#i think they fall asleep on each other all the time like this
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SOUR.
Art Donaldson x Reader (Patrick Zweig x Reader) | SORRY series | 4.2k words
it’s finally here by popular demand. Patrick has entered the plot. this is set before all of the prior chapters, two days before the Donaldson wedding. can be read as part of the SORRY SERIES (read more episodes of their lives here) or on its own. lemme know if you’d like to be on the taglist.
warnings: 18+. angst. it’s brutal angst. more than allusions to Patrick’s canonical use of hard drugs. rehab, allusion to an OD, mention of Art’s disordered eating patterns. they’re bad for each other in a good way. the Donaldsons have a friendly dog. coveting another man’s wife. discussion of niche sexual fantasies. making out. biting. tornados/extreme weather. running away from your problems.
“Art?”
“Nngh.”
“Artie, wake up.”
“‘M up. Fhhh… ‘m up. What’s the matter?” Art grumbled with half shut eyes. “Somethin’ wrong?” He whispered even though they were alone. It was nighttime which meant whispering to Art.
“I don’t like this storm.”
What a sign that storm should have been.
Art smirked. “We’re getting married in, like, three days and you’re worried about the weather?”
“There’s a tornado warning. Or watch. Whichever the worse one is. I saw it on the news.”
Art frowned. “You ever been through a tornado?”
“No.”
Art rolled over from his position in [Y/N]’s arms to face her nose to nose. “I have. A lot. Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. His arm slotted into the dip of her waist and pulled her closer. “Close ‘em for me. That’s it, that’s it.” He coaxed as she followed his directions.
“I don’t see what this has to do with—“
“Shh, listen,” they both got quiet. Rain pelted against the windows. Wind whistled. Branches cracked and crunched. Thunder boomed. [Y/N] could see the gleam of lightning even behind her eyelids. “Hear it?”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
“Yeah.”
“Great. Congrats. Your ears are workin’ best as they can,” Art teased to try and get his fiancé to crack a smile. “Now, which one’s the loudest? Which of the sounds?”
“You breathing.”
“I’m flattered. Which one outside?”
[Y/N] listened. “Right now? The rain, I think.”
“We’re in the clear for now. Let me know when the wind’s louder. Like that real, real crazy whooshing, whistling sound. When it starts whipping like that, we’ll go in the bathroom and lock the doors, yeah? Hell, we can head in now if it would make you feel better?”
“What if I fall asleep before the weather gets worse?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay awake,” Art yawned. “How about I get you up if I notice a disturbance. I gotta take care of my wife, right?”
“I’m not your wife.”
Art sighed. “…I know. I’m just practicing.”
Fortunately, no tornado ever touched down. And Art was still there when [Y/N] woke up.
It always amazed her that Art was still there everyday. For every nasty thing she said to him that she didn’t mean, every argument where she told him Patrick was right, every tennis match won or lost, every natural disaster, every tear shed. Art was there for all of it. He liked the bad moments as much as the good ones because it meant simply more time spent by [Y/N]’s side. He wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.
It was too much power, [Y/N] frequently thought, that she had over Art.
[Y/N] faced Art and brushed his strawberry blonde hair away from his forehead. Art often looked exhausted. He wore his tiredness on his face and shoulders. The exhaustion of constantly chasing, people-pleasing and being a professional athlete could destroy a kid. Art wore it like a Boy Scout badge. [Y/N] could watch him look relaxed forever. It was so rare he looked like that.
“Good morning, guard dog,” [Y/N] whispered. Art stirred. She could tell he was awake even though his eyes were shut due to that crease the reappeared between his eyebrows. It was never not there in his waking moments. Slowly, Art’s hand crept up and gently clutched [Y/N]’s wrist. Art used his grip to slide [Y/N]’s hand down his own drowsy face. He planted a kiss on her palm before tiredly looking at her. “Good morning.” She repeated to him.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” [Y/N] replied. Gray sunlight filtered through the window. “You ready for today?” She smirked.
“What’s today?”
“Patrick’s in town.”
Art dramatically threw his arm over his face and groaned. “I thought he was in tomorrow… Everything was so peaceful… And quiet,” Art mumbled into his elbow. He couldn’t keep a straight face for long and resolved into a soft laugh. “Whose babysitting?” He asked, peering his blue and brown eyes over his arm.
“I’m picking up the cake today, so I figured I could use his strength.”
Art sat up a bit. “You’re getting it today?”
“In the later afternoon, yeah. Why?”
“It’s gonna be, like, stale.”
[Y/N] glanced over at Art. “If we had gotten cupcakes like I wanted, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“You’re such a little jerk.” Art teased.
“Me!” [Y/N] gasped. “It doesn’t even matter because it’s not like you’re gonna eat it anyway because you don’t eat anything.”
“Little jerk!” Art said with his crooked smile widening. He leaned in, slotting an arm over her. “You heard me. You’re a little… troublemaking jerk.” Art’s nose almost pressed against hers.
“Oh yeah? Why are you marrying me then, hm?”
“…You’re pretty,” Art grinned almost timidly, bowing his head. His flat vocal timber sounded like the verbal equivalent of a blush. “Like, really, really pretty. Even if you suck.” Tenderly, Art leaned the rest of the way in to kiss [Y/N]. Once and then twice and then seven times. Maybe fourteen.
And they would have stayed like that all day.
They would have.
BANG BANG BANG.
Like gunshots.
Their lips parted and they held long eye contact. They paused. They sighed.
“Patrick.” They both said.
With a bend of his arms, the full weight of Art’s toned body collapsed on top of [Y/N]’s.
“Pretty baby!”
“No. ‘M pretending he’s not out there,” He laid flat on her, head on her chest. “Can’t go anywhere now.”
BANG BANG BANG on the front door again. Cheese, the couple’s Labrador mix barked at the sound from downstairs.
“Art!”
“Mhm-mm. Nope. Too bad. Sucks for Patrick.”
[Y/N] huffed. “You’re upsetting the dog.”
“He’s upsetting the dog,” Art started to laugh. “He showed up early. I’m just laying here. Hey, hey!” Art jeered as [Y/N] wiggled out from underneath him from backwards. She tried to inch away off the side of the bed. Her shoulders slumped against the carpet, while Art held her legs in place on the bed. [Y/N] dangled in a half on-half off sort of way. Her oversized Stanford t-shirt rolled up during the drama, exposing her breasts to Art. Unashamed, he stared.
[Y/N] twisted her foot into the side of Art’s face, causing a small cry of disgust from him. Just enough chaos for her to slip away. Without hesitation, she tossed the lightweight door open and skittered down the stairs with Art’s long gate keeping pace behind her. His arms reached out in an attempt to grab her. “He’s early! He can wait! He’s never been early in his whole fucking life!” Art laughed. Cheese jumped and barked at the hysteria.
The chase continued until [Y/N]’s hand hit the doorknob and chain. She unlocked it immediately. As [Y/N] ripped the door open, Art’s arm encircled her waist yanking her to the side with the force of his momentum, causing her to laugh with glee.
And on the other side of the door was Patrick Zweig.
Smiling impishly, Patrick took in the disheveled appearances of his two favorite people. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Nice boner.” Patrick smirked at Art, while he pulled [Y/N] into a side hug.
Art didn’t have a boner, or at least a proper one. But the comment was enough to get Art to look. He rolled his eyes and pulled Patrick in for a hug. Cheese ran over to the door for attention, when Art greeted Patrick.
Art closed the door. Patrick ducked down to greet the Labrador too. He liked Cheese, but wouldn’t necessarily choose to be around a dog in his free time the way that Art and [Y/N] did. Cheese really liked Patrick, much to his chagrin, so he pretended to be nice. While Patrick sat on the floor with the animal, he looked up at his best friends. “What’s with the clothes? You just get up?” Art with no shirt in just tube socks and boxers, and [Y/N] in Art’s old college shirt and underwear. They had all seen each other like this so many times growing up that no one particularly cared that the future Donaldsons looked so post coital. It was pretty normal. Patrick’s smirk sliced further across his unwashed face with the ghost of a laugh. “Were you guys fucking?” He said like a horny teenager.
[Y/N] laughed hard and kissed her lifelong best friend on top of the head on her way to make a pot of coffee in the kitchen. “No.” Art sighed in disappointment, flopping onto one of the barstools in the kitchen. This disappointment was either disappointment in Patrick for asking, or disappointment in the lack of sex due to Patrick’s arrival. It was Patrick’s fault either way.
When the dog got bored, Cheese wandered into the kitchen for nonexistent scraps. Patrick pulled up a chair next to Art and dropped his backpack on the floor. “How’s it going, man? You look good. Feeling ready?” He asked, leaning forward to tap Art across his bare knee.
Art nodded as if it say it’s a sure thing. “Thanks. We miss you. We appreciate you being here. It means a lot.”
“I appreciate you being here,” [Y/N] cut in. “Because you’re in my half of the wedding party.” She and Art were always in constant competition over who loved Patrick more. Art wanted him to be his best man. [Y/N] won out, though, having known him since the age of seven and Art only since age twelve.
“Ladies please. Not all at once.” Patrick said. He stood from his chair and wrapped his long arms around [Y/N] in a proper hug finally. Briefly, his chin rested on her head. He stopped before it went on too long.
“Good to see you, kid. How’s it going?” At two months older, [Y/N] had been calling Patrick ‘kid’ diminutively for almost two decades. It was cuter before he got so tall.
“I called you yesterday.” He replied dryly, stepping back to look at her. [Y/N] noted Patrick’s intimately familiar eyes. Too wide, pupils too dilated. Hm. He wore a long sleeved sweater and jeans. And dirty tennis shoes.
“You bring something nicer than this for Saturday?” She teased, pulling on one of his holey sleeves.
Art snorted at Patrick’s expense and cracked a smile. His freckled elbows leaned onto the counter. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here for two seconds, ‘n you’re already giving me tsuris?” Patrick quipped to [Y/N].
“Tsuris… Never thought I’d say it, but you sound like your mom, Patrick.” [Y/N] scoffed. Art snorted a laugh too.
Patrick frowned. “Guess I have to kill myself then.” He joked harshly to more laughter from the other two. M
“Yep. Have some coffee. Both of you. I’m going to put pants on.” [Y/N] turned away and moved to the stairs.
“Aw, do you have to?” Patrick called after her. [Y/N] tossed a middle finger up over her shoulder as she walked away. Art hissed at Patrick’s comment.
“Do you have to flirt with my wife?” Art sneered without malice.
Patrick smiled that boyish small, wicked, unassuming smile. “She’s not your wife yet.” He snapped back. Art smiled at him in return. The two held each other’s gaze adorned with sick grins for a moment before both of them dissolved into laughter. Everything was a competition, but it was only real if they brought it up.
Fast forward a few hours and Patrick and [Y/N] were in the car. Art had taken off for a haircut because his mom thought he looked like a messy little punk and wedding pictures were forever. [Y/N] drove because Patrick drove too fast and without mercy. He had a sports car once when he was in school and still spoke to his parents daily and had notably wrapped it around a telephone pole and walked out without nary a scratch. How’s that for nine lives?
[Y/N] had a sedan.
She and Patrick both held a cigarette out each of their respective windows as she drove.
“You should really quit, y’know.” She told Patrick.
He leaned over and blew smoke in her face. “Yeah, I’ll quit when you do.”
Patrick’s rude gesture didn’t bear acknowledging. “It’s different. You’re an athlete. I watch movies and review them for a living. It’s expected of me. You… you’re making your performance actively worse. You’re kneecapping yourself by choice.” [Y/N] explained.
“I’m good enough to take the hit.”
[Y/N] laughed and took a drag of her cigarette, asking it out the window. “And you’re arrogant enough to make that comment. Sometimes I look at you and you’re still thirteen. I swear to God. It’s fuckin’ funny,” she said. It was quiet for a moment. “Art, though. He doesn’t smoke anymore.”
“I don’t believe you,” Patrick replied immediately with a wild look in his eye. That was apparently a big surprise. “He’s totally lying to you. There’s no way—“
“Nope! Quit on his own too. He just decided he was done with it one day and got all pro-athlete about it.”
“Y-you’re wrong! You’re so wrong. He’s a liar. Last time I was in town, we—“
“No. No fucking way,” [Y/N] shook her head in manic disbelief. “When you came by to—“
“Mhm. Yep. On the patio. You didn’t notice?”
[Y/N] shook her head. “No sense of smell because of… I’m a smoker. I just… He’s such a shit.”
“A shit and a hypocrite!” They both laughed. When the glee dampened naturally and the cigarette butts were pitched out the window, Patrick looked over at [Y/N]. One good, long look. “You ready for Saturday?” Patrick asked because he was a masochist.
[Y/N] found herself often thinking back on this moment. Was this when it had gone wrong beyond repair?
[Y/N] sighed. She would only ever tell Patrick and maybe Art this. “Yes and no.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t say it like that. I have been ready to marry Art since I was, like, seventeen years old. It is unfathomable to me how much love I am capable of giving him, y’know? If he wanted the Mona Lisa, I’d be robbing the Louvre tomorrow. He’s it for me,” she said. Patrick faked a smile very convincingly and nodded for her to go on. “What I’m not looking forward to is everyone I know being in the same room at the same time. I don’t like other people except you and Art. And my editor. That’s about it.”
“You’re not at all worried about spending all that time married to someone?” Patrick tried to jab at her with his words while he scratched his right forearm.
“Not with Art.”
“Wow. That’s awfully grownup of you.”
“Yeah, well. I’m a grownup. With a smokin’ hot fiancé. And he actually cares if I live or die. Isn’t that crazy? My parents weren’t like that with each other. It’s… Am I allowed to say how grateful I am to you for bringing him home for break that one time, or is that stupid?”
“It’s kinda stupid,” he agreed teasingly. In reality, he wanted more than anything to put himself out of his misery. My fault, my fault, my fault. The words looped in Patrick’s head on constant repeat. He wanted to rip his skin off for so many different reasons. He couldn’t take it and he was trapped. Fuck.
Patrick scratched his right forearm again.
“Truth or dare?” Patrick slurred. He was twenty-one and drunk for [Y/N]’s birthday. She, Art and Patrick sat on the disgusting archaic carpet in Art’s dorm room.
“Uh, truth.” [Y/N] said too soberly to sober.
“Boring!” Art said, putting his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh.
Patrick took a long swing of his beer while he thought. “Okay, okay. What’s your weirdest sexual fantasy?” He asked.
“Ew.” [Y/N] wrinkled her nose.
Art thought the question was epic, but wasn’t going to facilitate his girl’s discomfort. “Hey, it’s her birthday, she doesn’t have to—“
“Um, no. I’ll do it. This is an actual dream I had. I think about it kinda all the time. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. It so dumb. So, it’s Art and I’m sitting at the kitchen table with coffee or something. And Art… sings me Happy Birthday like Marilyn Monroe did for JFK. And he’s dressed like Marilyn, but like a boy. No dress, but like the boy version of that look. Then we fuck. That’s weirder than you wanted. That was weird, right?” [Y/N] rambled.
Art leaned in closer to her. They were all drunk as skunks and he couldn’t help bite his lip. His arm pulled her closer to him. Art was handsy when drunk, they were all learning.
“Whose Jackie O?” Patrick asked.
“No Jackie O. And I’m not JFK. He’s just Marilyn. Gentlewomen prefer blondes.” [Y/N] had laughed so hard at that while she tangled her fingers in Art’s sandy hair.
The car ride to get cake and the drive back was the last proper conversation [Y/N] and Patrick had. The pair got home. Nothing seemed unusual to [Y/N] at all. They talked the whole time without any dry spells. The cake, in pieces to be assembled, was carefully toted in and placed way out of the way from disaster. Patrick took his bag to the bathroom, claiming he was going to shower.
[Y/N] shouted after him. “You know where the towels are!”
Patrick looked back over his shoulder at her with a smirk and closed the bathroom door behind him.
And he went out through the bathroom window.
[Y/N] had no idea he had gone until she heard his car start. For a minute, she thought it was the neighbors. She walked halfway down her hallway and saw the bathroom door open. No running shower water, no half nude Patrick shaving or something. She ran back down the hall and glanced out the kitchen window and watched his new white SUV whip out of the driveway.
[Y/N] stood there for several minutes. Staring and staring and staring after him. Not a single effort to move. The first thing she did was pick up her blue slidephone from beside the sink. She called Art, not Patrick. Patrick made his choice.
[Y/N] hadn’t realized she was crying when Art picked up on the other line.
“Honey? Honey, you there? You buttdial me?” Art said. [Y/N] thinks he said shit like that for several moments before she spoke. She just faced the window and stared for what felt like ages.
“Patrick’s gone.”
“Hm?”
“Patrick’s gone.”
“What do you mean he’s gone.”
“He climbed through the bathroom window and drove off. We-we didn’t have a fight. Or-or… He just left. Like it was nothing.”
“I’m on my way. Stay where you are.”
Art rushed back in his blue-black jeep wrangler. It ripped into the smooth driveway causing the tires to damn near squeal. When he got out of his car and bounded to the door, it was clear that about half of his hair had been cut instead of all of it. [Y/N] would have laughed in an ideal situation.
“Baby, hey, what happened?” Art said breathlessly as he unlocked the door. [Y/N] sat at the seldom used dining room table the two of them used to hold their junk mail, sitting straight up and looking through Art. Art was alarmed. She never sat at the table and rarely was her face so expressionless. She was always feeling, expressing, something. He couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, but her eyes were red.
“Patrick seems to have decided not to join us this weekend.” [Y/N] said clearly.
Art closed up the door behind him and walked over to [Y/N]. His scraggly hair and bewildered expression lessened into some devastated softness. He knelt, as he often did, in front of her and took her softer hands in his. “Can you tell me what happened?” Art asked quietly. He felt angry tears sting at the corner of his own traitorous eyes.
“We went out, got the cake, got smoothies, and came back. We… He didn’t say anything weird. Nothing happened.”
“Okay. And then?”
“No, I mean, nothing happened. Like, he was on his best behavior. Like, he was doing so well. He seemed okay. Really okay, y’know?” [Y/N]’s voice broke and finally betrayed her. She choked on her last words and the tears followed. Art’s right hand traveled up the side of [Y/N] face to rest there in comfort. “We talked about everything, like always. He was totally fine. I swear. Then we got home and he says I’m gonna take a shower, or something. And then I heard his car pull away. That’s it.”
“I’m gonna fucking murder him.” Art said, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. He stood from the floor and pulled his own phone out of his pocket. Art leaned against the table [Y/N] sat at. He called Patrick. Then he called him again. And another time. Up to what felt like twelve times or so. He left voicemail after voicemail.
“Hey, call me.”
“Hey, it’s Art. Call me.”
“Art again. Call me back. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m sorry about the last one. Patrick, call me. Are you coming home?”
“Hey, man. Fuck you. Fuck off.”
“I’m sorry about the last one too. I’m… Understandably, I’m kinda… Fucking pissed at you. I don’t need to talk to you like that, though. Are you okay? Are you safe? What happened? You can talk to me.”
“You’re an asshole. I wish you could see the look on [Y/N]’s face right now.”
“Don’t come back.”
Eventually, the voicemail box was full.
[Y/N] reached wordlessly for Art’s hand. She could feel his rare anger climbing. He got this ridiculous blush across his cheeks when he got angry and she could see it against the sunset’s glow. “Art?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened,” He said, turning his eyes to her. “I’m so sorry, hon.”
“It’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize, pretty baby.”
“Yeah, but he’s my best friend. He’s your best friend,” He ranted. “That was a dick move to leave like that. I’m sorry that happened to you. He’s a piece of shit.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“No! I do. I do mean that. For the last year, he’s treated us, especially you like trash. Do you not see how much more you deserve, [Y/N]? I don’t know what’s going on with him… Do you?”
“He’s…” [Y/N] looked down. “You think he’s using again?”
Art didn’t say anything, he just looked down. That was answer enough. [Y/N] buried her face in her hands with a shuddering sob. Art pulled her to her feet and into his chest. He buried his face in her hair, unable to hold his own tears back. Eventually, the pair landed on the sagging green couch. Art’s legs wrapped around [Y/N]’s middle. They kept the news on all night. In case he matched an accident description. They called hospitals and hunted for John Does that were over six feet with dark hair and stubble.
“What are we gonna do? He’s… He’s not coming back, is he?” [Y/N] whispered. Cheese rested his heavy beige head on her thigh. He obviously didn’t understand why Patrick had gone either.
“No, I don’t think he is,” Art replied, lips against her forehead. “I’m sorry.
Pathetically, [Y/N] raised her head to Art. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I did.”
“You didn’t do anything.” He said. [Y/N] forced Art to lean back against the couch and she laid her head on his chest. Cheese circled for a new position where he could be touching them both at the same time.
[Y/N] knew it was a little bit her fault. She leaned up and kissed Art on the corner of his lips. “It’s my fault.”
“Then it’s both of our faults. You can’t talk about yourself like that. You’re the only you I’ve got, babe.” Art huffed tiredly.
[Y/N] dug her hands into Art’s hair the way he liked. “Can I fix your haircut? Haircut’s a generous way to describe it.”
“Damn, I was actually trying out this new thing. You don’t think it’s cool?”
“Yeah, it’s big for guys who blindly answer their wife’s phone calls, I hear.” [Y/N] said weakly.
Wife was all Art heard and he melted.
“I have never known someone I love as much as you,” Art said. “I’m all in with you. You know that, right?”
“‘Course I do.” [Y/N] did know. She sunk her teeth into the freckled skin on Art’s right shoulder gently and he moaned. Over top of the spot, [Y/N] left a trail of kisses down Art’s bicep.
“I’m gonna call his mom.” He said once [Y/N]’s pace had slowed. Art’s stomach growled. When he got upset, he didn’t eat. [Y/N] told herself it was because he had forgotten to in stressful moments, but wondered if it was a punishment instead. She pretending she hadn’t heard the sound.
“They don’t talk.”
“I know. Just in case he turns up.”
Patrick did turn up. About ten hours later, wet and unconscious in the emergency room. Following a psych eval, Patrick went to a short stint in rehab. He had gone once prior at the age of twenty. Needless to say Patrick missed the wedding. It was too much money to up and cancel, according to Art’s piece of shit stepfather, Douglas. Patrick made no efforts to contact the Donaldsons since leaving, as he left or following rehab. Despite all of Art and [Y/N]’s tireless efforts to find him, all they had to show for it was his disconnected phone number and a crippling feeling of shame and loss. Patrick had vanished from their lives without giving either one of them a say.
Patrick was gone.
But Art was there for all of it.
TAGLIST:
@toxiclovergirl @basicallynotbreathing @miniemonie2001 @valentine333 @tremendoushorsepeachbanana-blog @athxnss @babyspice6 @diorrfairy @donaldsonsdarling @muthafuckingstargirl @avylanchce @shysstuff @soberbabes @ysuftmikey @pussy-f41ry
#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson x you#art donaldson#sorry series#challengers movie#challengers#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig
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headcanon collection: meeting & dating hockey player!frat!luke castellan
♫ - espresso by sabrina carpenter
· definitely had a meet-cute type situation
· at a frat party that silena had ditched you at, he wasn’t watching as he walked and your drink went flying all over yourself.
· he apologized profusely which you furrowed your brows at, expecting a frat boy to be an asshole.
“holy shit! i am so sorry, oh my god that is such a nice shirt too.”
· led you to his room as he turned around and you threw on one of his shirts
· you hung out in different groups so you never really saw him, to return his shirt
· one day though, out of pure luck he decided to try studying at the library, running into you as you were about to leave.
· which led to him admiring your room as you dug around in your clean clothes basket for his shirt.
“you cleaned it?” “well… yeah i just threw it in i didn’t… really think about it… sorry.” you mumble, “it’s okay.” he says, smiling.
· ever since then, you noticed him studying in public more often.
· airpods in as he hunches over a table, gaze flickering between his laptop and his paper, squinting every so often.
“what’s with the sudden public appearances?” “oh! i- uh, wanted to try something new?”
· it led to you both seeking each other out at the library, all you knew about each other were your names and the classes you studied for, you had no contact or attachments but you always sat together
· eventually he finally asked for your number and you started seeing each other outside of the library and actually getting to know each other
“hey do you maybe want to come to my game on friday?” a text from him reads out, to which you quickly reply “of course :)”
· it became regular, if one of you needed to study you both found yourselves at the library, and if he had a game you were sat front row wearing his colours
· your friends noticed your feelings before you did, you were always bringing up a story about him, or asking someone to accompany you to his game
· it was sickening
“i’m out with luke right now, i’m so sorry.” “that’s okay!”
· luke wasn’t much better
· except his friends didn’t know who you were
· at first they thought he was hooking up with someone, to which he quickly shut down (he didn’t want you to think that’s what he was telling people, because he wasn’t)
· but hearing them say this made it click in his head that even if you were hooking up, he’d want more with you.
“can i come over?” “always, why?” “i really need to talk to you.”
“he’s going to tell you he likes you!” silena predicted, jumping around your dorm, “no he won’t!”
· he did
· he was a mess at your doorstep, he wasn’t used to relationships, usually sticking to situationships but with you, he felt something entirely different
· he was breathing heavily as he spoke, taking his sweet time to say “i like you” and instead just blabbering out compliments and how he doesn’t want to ruin things.
· but when he stops for a breath to watch your confusion, he shuts up and spits it out.
“i really like you, i want to be able to bring you flowers, and kiss you when you get a good grade on something you thought you’d fail, i want to fall asleep with you in my arms watching movies.”
· silena who hid in the bathroom squealed, causing luke’s cheeks to turn pink.
“ignore her! i, um, i really like you too.”
· and his confession was right
· as soon as he finally asked you out for real (after he took you out to dinner.) he was all over you
· hands had to be brushing each other if he couldn’t hold it, or didn’t have his arm around your waist
· he sported a grin of awe when he watched you get excited over things
· picking you up and spinning you around when you said you aced a test
· you still studied together all the time, sometimes if its in your dorm you get a bit sidetracked (ykwim.)
· he couldn’t help but take every chance to kiss you, your lips slotted together so perfectly he cursed all the time he spent hanging out with you and admiring your lips instead of actually acting on his thoughts
“is that my cherry chapstick?” you ask after pecking his lips, “ummmm no?” he scoffs (it is)
· you still went to every game, wearing his jersey now instead of just the teams colours
· kissing him passionately everytime he ran off the ice, didn’t matter if he won or not, he was an incredible player and that’s basically what your kisses said to him, how proud you were.
“I LOVE YOU!”
it was your four months as you watched him run around his room frantically.
“oh my god i swear it’s here somewhere!”
“luke it’s fine, just come lie down with me again.” you ask in a soothing tone, it was like your voice had a spell in it that made it work, forgetting his worries and his legs dragging himself to the bed.
“aha!” he suddenly yelled, causing you to jump. he ran to one of his shelves and pulled out a small box hiding behind his books, “see! i told you i had a gift.”
“you’re ridiculous.” you giggled, sitting up as he handed you the box, urging you to open it.
the cover snapped off as your jaw dropped in awe. a necklace with the initial “L” laid in the box, “oh it’s beautiful luke.”
“hey and look.” you look up at his eyes, looking down at his neck as he pulls something out from under his sweater. a matching necklace with your initial.
“oh my god you’re so cute.” you giggled, taking the necklace out of the box, “put it on for me?”
you quickly shimmed so your back faced his chest, holding your hair out the way as he snapped it around your neck, he admired you in the mirror, his hands coming to rest on your waist and the back of you head rested on his shoulder.
he said your name softly to which you hummed in response, making eye contact with him through the mirror, fiddling with the new necklace.
“i love you.” your eyebrows raised in a soft shocked expression at the unfamiliar words, turning to look back at him.
“i love you too.”
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#sienna’s fics#pjo x reader#luke castellan headcanons#luke castellan x you#luke castellan hockey au#luke castellan frat au#frat au#pjo headcanon#pjo au#headcanon collection#headcanons
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Genshin Cuddles HCs (Cyno, Tighnari, Xiao)
I am having a huge burst of creative energy. I should be going to bed but NO! I will think of cuddling with the genshin boys. This is going to be weird. Awake me takes no responsibility for what sleep deprived me does. Reader is assumed to be short because I am and this is a self insert, hehe; slight angst in Xiao's (I mean, it's Xiao)
A/N: Good gods, I really was tired when I did this. I had next to no formatting, a childish Authors note. To anyone who read this on my other blog, I am really, really sorry. I won't promise it won't happen again, so I'll apologize in advance for any future instances of sleepy posting.
I did my best to extent Tighnari's a little. Our fox-boy deserves more than a few sentences
Cyno x gn!reader, Tighnari x gn!reader, Xiao x gn!reader
Cyno
Mr. Serious Mahamatra is actually an amazing cuddler
He's a settled person so he's not going to fidget and squirm. He could probably cuddle for hours if you both had time.
Spooning is very much a favorite. Especially if you've had a long day, the two of you will lay in bed. He'll press himself against you back, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his lips into your hair. Even though he's one of the smaller Genshin guys, he's warm and radiates this steady, grounded energy. Being the little spoon makes you feel safe and cared for. More often than not you fall asleep when spooning.
On the other hand, when Cyno gets home after a long mission, you'll curl up on the couch with his head on your chest
After the darkness that permeates his job, your heartbeat represents light and life and goodness. He values the time spent listening to your heartbeat just as much as he values rules and justice. It's a balance he needs and he knows it.
Tighnari
You know how kittens will curl up in little piles, facing each other and all and it is really, really cute?
Yea, that's you and Tighnari
You'll kinda burrow into each other and he'll wrap his tail around your legs
He'll even yet you scratch his ears while he pets your hair. No sleeping really ever happens like this, but it's so relaxing you might as well have taken a nap
If you're cuddling because you had a really bad day, you two might spoon, or you'll sit on his lap while he holds you and lets you pet his tail.
If you happen to fall asleep while cuddling his tail like a stuffed animal, he's fine with it, but is glad there's no one around to take a picture because that would just be embarrassing.
Xiao
Xiao is probably so touch starved it's stupid
Once he starts getting physical affection and serious cuddles, he realizes that he actually really needs it not that you mind
Like Cyno the type of cuddles depends on the situation
He's not as into spooning, though it does happen especially late night when you're tired and ready to sleep. I think he really wants to be able to see your face and even in Teyvat physics don't really allow for that when spooning
Instead, when you're the one who needs comfort and touch, you snuggle up to his side and he wraps his arm around you. As usual he doesn't say much, but with Xiao, he really lets his actions speak for him
When he needs the comfort, he tends to want you on his lap where his can bury his face in the crook of your neck. He wraps his arms tight around you like he's scared to let you go.
It's all you can you to stroke his hair or gently rub his back. Just like his actions speak louder than words, your actions are more likely to reach him than platitudes, though you make sure to use your words as well. He really could use them
And sometimes you're just in the mood to cuddle at which point it depends on when and where. His head in your lap, yours in his, honestly, all he cares about is being able to see your face and be in contact with you
#I dunno I think I'd probably like cuddling Cyno the best#At least as long as he doesn't pull out his bad jokes#Cyno#cyno x reader#cyno x gn!reader#Cyno hcs#Cyno fluff#Tighnari#tighnari x reader#tighnari x gn!reader#Tighnari hcs#Tighnari fluff#Xiao#xiao x reader#xiao x gn reader#Xiao hcs#Xiao fluff#genshin impact#genshin impact hcs#genshin hcs#genshin fluff#teyvat talk
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(Once Bitten) Twice Shy
Chapter Five
Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.
Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader
Story Rating : R
Chapter Rating : R
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour including toy use. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.
Word Count : 5.6k (I am so sorry)
A/N : This was originally over 7k long so... at least I managed to get it down to under 6k. Tumblr is still only letting me tag five people at a time, so tags will be in comments again.
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR
MASTER LIST
Chapter Five
Minutes passed, your back against the door, barely breathing, the stuffed beagle clutched to your chest. Eyes closed, you tried to focus on any little sound that might tell you what he was doing, if he was even still out there. Part of you wanted to go to him, to carry on your conversation. To be near him. You’d seen a new side of him and it was enticing as it was frustrating; how could he be so aloof one minute and so sweet the next?
Your thoughts strayed to that night, to the way he’d kissed you and how his body had felt pressed against yours.
Tearing yourself from the door, you moved to your room, creating distance between yourself and temptation. But yet felt like a spring, coiling tighter and tighter with every little thought of him.
Surely he knew what he was doing to you, the effect he had every time he touched you and smiled that damned smile.
You barely knew him but he gave you butterflies. He stole your breath every time his dark eyes found yours.
Fuck.
You felt like a silly school girl with a crush on the teacher, knowing that it was wrong and nothing could happen. Only, something had already happened. Just the thought of it brought heat to your cheeks and that fluttering feeling to your stomach.
Locking your bedroom door, you let your attention drift to your nightstand. To the top drawer. Cautiously you pulled it open and peeked inside. Embarrassment swelled inside you, reminding you why you’d been trying so hard to ignore it.
It was as full as any other drawer in the room. No expense had been spared. Honestly, you weren’t even sure what half of the toys were for. Some you could guess but others were a little more confusing. All different shapes, colours and sizes. Some so large they looked downright painful.
Frustrated, you slammed the drawer shut.
You weren’t a virgin but you didn’t consider yourself experienced. Sex for you had been awkward fumbles with guys you’d grown up with, shameful moments that often ended in disappointment. Dates had been approved by your parents, and no one they approved of wanted sex unless it could be used to force an engagement.
But, now that you had the opportunity to experience new things, you didn’t even know where to start. Despite your age, you felt like a naive child.
Changing into your PJs you fell into bed, TV distracting you from thoughts of Billy and having dinner with him. When you finally settled to sleep, you pulled the stuff beagle to your chest again and realised that you could spell the faintest hint of his cologne on it. And, all you could think about as you drifted off, was how it would feel to fall asleep in his arms.
Panic gripped you the moment you woke, a thousand anxious thoughts about the evening to come filling your head. You didn’t know what you were going to wear or how you’d manage to make it through an evening without saying anything stupid.
You tried to read over breakfast but you couldn’t concentrate. The tension inside you, the desire that you didn’t know how to suppress, seemed to wind tighter and tighter until you couldn’t sit still.
Taking a cold shower didn’t help either. Instead, the cold water reminded you of his touch and, suddenly, it felt like his hands were all over your body, touching you and caressing you in ways that drove you crazy.
Returning to your bedroom wrapped in a towel, you threw yourself onto the bed, the frustration boiling over.
He’d suggested talking, getting to know each other, but how were you going to do that when you couldn’t focus? How could you have dinner with him when all you could think about was him kissing you?
You realised there was only one thing you could do.
Closing your eyes, you fumbled with the top drawer of the nightstand, reaching in and pulling out the first toy your hand fell on. You took a few deep breaths before looking at it; blue silicone with a slight curve, not big enough to be intimidating but it still made your cheeks warm. A little button at the base caused it to vibrate.
Oh fuck.
You took a few more deep breaths, knowing you had to at least try. Parting your legs, you slipped the still-vibrating toy between your thighs.
Your breath hitched at the first little touch. The second touch was firmer, pressing the tip against your clit. Oh. It felt good, better than any pleasure your fingers were capable of creating. Biting your lip, you tried to keep from moaning, as the pleasure quickly started to mount inside you. You turned it off, knowing you needed more, you needed everything.
Gingerly, you reached between your thighs, feeling how wet you were before guiding the toy to your entrance. A low, gasped moan escaped you as you began to slowly slip it inside you.
Letting your head fall back on the pillow, you tried not to think too much about what you were doing, instead finding your mind drifting somewhere far more dangerous. To thoughts of him. And the more you thought about Billy, the better it felt. Soon enough, your eyes were closed and you were imagining him on top of you; the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress and his dark eyes fixed on you as he fucked you. You were certain that he’d know exactly what he was doing, that a night with him would be better than anything you’d experienced before.
“Billy,” you moaned softly, remembering the kiss, remembering the way he’d made you feel wanted. It became harder to hold back the sounds that were desperate to escape you as you descended further into the fantasy, moving the toy a little faster.
Your free hand reached for the first thing it could find, bringing the stuffed beagle to your lips to stifle your moans. Suddenly all you could smell was his cologne and it was almost enough to push you over the edge.
Finally, you turned the vibrator back on and came almost immediately.
“Mr Russo,” you keened softly into the stuffed toy, every gasped breath filling your nostrils with his scent.
Your cheeks burned with shame the moment it was over, but you kept the toy inside you, imagining him as the sort of man who’d take his time before pulling out, making sure you were finished.
Suffice to say, you were mortified once you’d dropped the toy to the floor and your heart rate had started to slow.
It didn’t feel right, in fact it felt awful, like you’d used him for your pleasure without permission. But, you finally felt better. The tension was gone. You could finally relax and spend the rest of the day finishing The Picture of Dorian Gray, hoping it would give you and Billy something to talk about.
You drew blood early, getting it out of the way so you could spend an obscene amount of time obsessing over what to wear. Eventually, you settled on a casual little black dress that wasn’t over the top, but made it look like you’d made an effort. After tying back your hair, you put on some natural looking make-up, hoping it would give you a little more confidence.
And, when you finally stepped out into the penthouse, you could have sworn you saw his breath catch.
Billy was dressed more casual than you’d ever seen him, wearing a red sweater and dark jeans. A look that definitely worked for him. He watched from the sofa as you made your way towards him.
“You look lovely,” he said and your heart stuttered.
Glancing down at yourself, you bit your lip, feeling like it was too much. “We usually only have take out on special occasions back home, so...” you shrugged.
“I feel a little under-dressed,” he joked.
“You always look nice,” you remarked before realising what you’d actually said. “I mean... you always dress very nicely.”
“My tailor will be glad to hear you say that,” he smiled as you sat. “The food should be here soon. I hope you don’t mind that I ordered the fixed menu.”
“That’s fine.” If anything it made it easier; you wouldn’t have to worry about the food list.
“Wine?” He offered and you nodded eagerly, despite not being much of a drinker. “Is Riesling okay?” You weren’t sure so you nodded again.
The bottle and glasses were already on the table, in fact his was already half-empty. He filled a glass and you leaned to take it from him, your fingers brushing against his and, for a second, he didn’t let go.
“You smell nice,” he muttered, his gaze lingering as your cheeks warmed. You hadn’t put on perfume, so you assumed it must be your vanilla body wash. “How’s your hand?” He asked a moment later with a touch more reluctance.
Holding it up, you showed him the gauze bandaid across your palm. “It’s fine. Nearly healed.”
Billy nodded, his guilt obvious. But, thankfully, he didn’t say anything else on the matter.
“I finished Dorian Gray,” you told him, stopping an awkward silence from falling.
“Oh? And what did you think in the end?” He asked, crossing his legs so he could turn more towards you.
“I’m not sure yet. It was a lot to take in.” You shrugged. “He did some horrible things; especially to Sybil and poor Basil, but some of it wasn’t all that bad? And then when he tried to change, Henry made him feel bad about it.” You took a breath, feeling the weight of his scrutiny on you. “I get that it’s a cautionary tale about excess and hedonism, but I don’t think anyone should be punished for trying to enjoy themselves...”
“It was a different time,” Billy offered, still completely focused on you. “Dorian’s hedonism damaged almost everyone unlucky enough to fall under his spell.”
“I know, I just...” you let out a huff, not sure how to articulate what you wanted to say. “I think if he’d been given the opportunity, he could’ve changed for the better.”
“That’s very optimistic of you.”
He said optimistic but you were certain that he meant naive.
“I still don’t understand why you like it.”
“Well, it’s -” he was cut short by the sound of a buzzer before the elevator doors slid open. “Saved by the bell,” he remarked, grinning as he got to his feet to go collect the food from the doorman and tip him.
While Billy got the food, you made your way to the dining table, taking your glasses and the bottle with you. Places were already set and you felt butterflies in your stomach when you noticed the candles. Realistically, he was probably just trying to make things nice but, in your mind, all you could think about was how it seemed intimate.
You took a seat and a long sip of wine while Billy unpacked the food, almost covering the whole table. The smell was enough to make your stomach grumble. Once everything was on the table, Billy dimmed the lights with his phone and lit the candles.
“Dig in,” he told you, starting to fill his own plate.
You started with the things you knew you liked, taking a little and starting to eat, but it wasn’t long before you found your attention drifting to him, watching through your lashes. You watched him eat, watched the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, the way he licked his lips.
“What?” He asked, fighting back a grin. Your gaze dropped to your place and your cheeks started to burn. “It’s okay, you can ask.”
“What’s it like? When you eat, I mean,” you asked softly, knowing it really wasn’t any of your business.
“Same as when you do,” Billy offered without seeming to care, “only flavours are muted and it never makes me feel full.”
“Oh,” you looked up and instantly felt bad.
“What’s that look for?
“What look?”
“You get this look sometimes, like something I’ve said has made you sad. Like you feel sorry for me.”
“It’s not that,” you tried to explain, “I just... I can’t imagine not being able to enjoy things like food and sunsets.”
“It’s not that I can't enjoy them,” he shrugged again, “I just enjoy them less than I did when I was human.”
“Do you miss being human?” You asked before realising how inappropriate it was. You shook your head. “I’m sorry, that was rude, I shouldn’t’ve -”
“No, it’s fine,” he answered, reaching for his glass and taking a long, slow drink. “I do miss it. This - this wasn’t something I chose.”
There was nothing you could say to that. There were questions, yes, but you weren’t entitled to the answers and you didn’t want to risk ruining the evening by asking them. Awkwardly, you reached for your glass and took a drink.
“There’s that look again,” he remarked with a soft smile, “don’t worry, I’ve had enough time to come to terms with what I am now.”
The small talk continued over food, mostly about the food, until you felt like you couldn’t eat another bit. Sinking back in your chair, you closed your eyes and let out a slow exhale. When you looked at Billy again you found him grinning at you as he reached across to top up your glass.
“I didn’t order any dessert but if you’re still hungry I could -”
“Don’t you dare,” you laughed. “But thank you, this was really nice.”
“Glad you enjoyed it,” he told you as he refilled your glasses. “I want you to enjoy your time here. I know things got off to a strange start, but I want you to be comfortable here.”
“I am - I mean, I’m trying to be,” you struggled to explain. “I’m still getting used to it, but being able to go out with Karen really helped.”
“She enjoyed meeting you. She found you very interesting,” Billy answered, an indecipherable smile on his lips. “I find you interesting too.”
The comment caused your head to pound a little harder in your chest and your thighs to press together. The lump in your throat kept you from responding. A moment later, he changed the subject.
“Let’s go sit on the sofa,” pushing his chair away from the table. You nodded, pushing back your chair and standing, hesitating when you looked at the mess on the table. “Don’t worry, the maid will deal with it.”
“Maid?” There was a maid?
“She usually comes around 4am,” he answered, waving his hand towards the sofa, indicating that you should go while he got tonight’s blood from the kitchen.
Wine glass in hand, you sat on the sofa, staring out at the twinkling lights of the city and, again, you couldn’t help but think how intimate it all felt. Billy soon joined you, leaving some space between you, but not much - even less when you folded your legs beneath you and turned towards him.
“So,” he started with a smile, “what do you want to know?”
What followed was a long conversation about Billy, finding out what you could. He’d been a vampire for fifteen years; in his human life he’d been a Marine and, now, he ran a private security firm that mostly catered to vampire clientele. He was born and raised in New York but had no family. And he was wealthy enough that he simply laughed when you asked about the credit card in your name.
Then, he turned the spotlight on you.
You explained that you were from the Midwest, a little middle-of-nowhere town, and that your family were part of an insular, conservative community. You’d spent the last few years helping homeschool some of the local children, but you’d decided you’d wanted a change. You’d wanted to see the world and experience new things. He didn’t ask why you’d taken the job, and you didn’t offer the information, instead you tried to make it seem like everything was simple and happy in your life.
All the while, his eyes stayed fixed on you, as he sipped your blood.
“Does it unsettle you?” He asked suddenly. “Seeing me drink your blood?”
“N-no,” you tried to speak around the lump in your throat, “I don’t mind.”
“But you have questions?”
“Some?” You answered and Billy gave a nod, indicating you could ask if you wanted. “The other day, when you mentioned it was still warm, is that...” you couldn’t bring yourself to finish.
“It’s better, yes,” his voice dropped to a low whisper, tongue running over his lips. “It’s like drinking from the source.”
“And is that...” Again, you couldn’t finish, feeling breathless just at the thought.
“I don’t bite. You never have to worry about that.” But the way he was looking at you said something else entirely.
“Good,” you finally manage to take a breath, “I don’t want to be bitten... or turned...”
Billy simply nodded.
“What can you taste when you drink my blood?” You asked, remembering what he’d said about knowing you hadn’t been sleeping or eating. “You said you can tell certain things from it?”
“Hormonal changes can affect how it tastes,” he offered.
“That’s why you want me to keep healthy and eat right?”
“Yes, it makes your blood taste better, but it’s also because I don’t want you getting sick. I’m not entirely heartless,” he smiled.
Silence fell and Billy took another drink. The care he took not to waste a single drop had your heart beating faster and, this time, when he noticed you watching, you didn’t look away. You couldn’t look away. Maybe the wine had helped lower your inhibitions, or maybe you were starting to feel more comfortable with him. Whatever it was, the moment didn’t end until he’d finished the whole glass.
Billy licked his lips again, and you noticed his gaze drop to the neckline of your dress as you took deeper breaths trying to calm your racing heartbeat, causing your breasts to awkwardly rise and fall. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and your eyes dropped to the empty glass in his hand, now resting on his lap and - fuck, your eyes snapped back up awkwardly, the moment you noticed the way his pants were tented. He was hard.
“I, uh -” you started, getting to your feet, “- I need a glass of water.”
You didn’t wait for a response before heading to the kitchen, giving him space to deal with whatever that was. Your heart was still pounding uncomfortable, your hands shaking as you found a clean glass and started to run the cold tap. Filling it, you took a slow drink, hoping to drown the butterflies in your stomach.
You didn’t hear him move, didn’t realise he was right behind you until his hand came to rest on the edge of the counter beside yours, his cold thumb brushing over your pinkie. Your breath caught as his shadow swallowed yours on the wall, and your cheeks continued to burn. Desire and embarrassment warred inside you, but Billy didn’t speak until you did.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing without your consent,” he answered softly, against your ear.
He inhaled slowly, his nose inches from your hair. Then came that low, restrained groan. He sounded like a caged animal, desperate to be released, and you realised you were the one holding the keys.
For a second, you remained frozen, knowing that he was giving you a choice. It was a bad idea to complicate things between you, but some part of you wanted this, wanted him. Suddenly all you could think about were the fantasies you’d played out with the vibrator that morning.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stepped back, pressing yourself against him.
His hand twitched, his thumb covering your pinkie, holding it.
“Say yes,” he near-demanded, wanting your unequivocal consent, his lips ghosting your ear with every word. “I need you to say you want this.”
“Yes,” you breathed, “I want this.”
A split-second later, his hand was on your stomach, pulling you back against him, letting you feel the hard press of his cock against your lower back. His lips moved to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin in a way that made your heart race faster. And you quickly realised how much Billy liked that.
“That’s right, little hummingbird,” he groaned, moving his hand to palm your breasts over your dress. “Fuck, you’ve been driving me crazy all night.”
All you could offer was a whimper in response, breath catching as his hand started to slip down your body, reaching beneath your dress. Cold fingers trailed up your bare thighs, causing a shiver of delight to run up your spine and for heat to pool between your thighs.
His knee pressed gently between yours, urging your legs apart, letting his hand move higher. You bit your lip and tried to stifle a moan when you felt his fingertips against the wet fabric of your panties, but holding back anything became impossible the moment his cold fingers slipped inside. His touch was light to begin with, teasing, fingers stirring between your folds, drawing a gasp from you. A low growl vibrated through his chest as he coated his fingers in your arousal, his touches getting more pronounced the wetter you got.
Your head fell back against his shoulder as his lips and fingers continued their assault on your senses. You didn’t even notice his hand move from the counter until you felt his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling gently to turn your face enough so he could kiss you. His tongue against the seam of your lips was almost enough to distract you from his finger slowly easing its way between your walls. You whimpered and moaned against his lips, letting his tongue slip into your mouth, keeping you in the kiss until every inch of his finger was buried inside of you.
“Fuck, hummingbird,” he groaned, a dangerous glint in his eyes and a grin on his lips. You moaned as his finger flexed inside you, slowly starting to withdraw before pushing in again. “Don’t come. That’s the only rule you have to follow right now; don’t come until I say you can. Can you do that?”
“I -” you could barely think to answer.
“If you can’t, I’ll stop,” he warned, his finger stilling and causing you to keen at the loss of sensation.
“Yes,” you moaned.
Your relief was palpable the moment he started to move again. The fingers in your hair, tugging softly so his lips could return to your neck. It didn’t feel real. It felt amazing in a way you couldn’t comprehend. Your heart raced faster when you felt him start to press a second, cold finger inside you, and you realised you were gripping his thigh. Hard.
“You’re so wet for me,” he groaned against your neck. “Practically dripping all over my hand,”
The words alone were enough to cause you to clench around his fingers, letting you feel them more acutely as they started to move a little faster, fucking you to the knuckle each and every time.
“Billy, please...” you pleaded, not sure you could take much more.
“Not yet,” he groaned, his lips against your ear, nipping and sucking at the lobe in a way that made everything so much harder for you. “It’ll feel so good if you just wait.”
You wanted to wait, to play his game, but how could you when it already felt so good? You felt yourself on the precipice, every muscle tensing, your slick walls tightening and gripping his fingers. Your eyes closed tight and you almost felt ashamed of yourself, like you were going to ruin the moment because you couldn’t control yourself.
His fingers stilled again just before you could go over the edge.
“Not yet,” he told you, voice calm but commanding. “Just breathe. Let me be in control.”
You managed a weak nod before he pulled you back into another kiss, fingers staying perfectly still for a few moments, not moving again until he felt you start to relax. This time his fingers moved in shallow thrusts, bending inside you, pressing against your soft inner walls like he was searching for something.
Your whole body shuddered when he found it and you saw stars.
“Does that feel good?” He asked and you nodded, unable to do anything but moan when his fingertips brushed against the same spot. “That’s it, little hummingbird, sing for me.”
More moans slipped from your lips, each more desperate than the last, your fingers digging into his thigh through his jeans.
“Billy, I-I need to...” you begged, words fracturing into another cry of pleasure.
“Do you need to come?”
“Y-yes!”
“Say it,” his commanding voice sending a thrill down your spine and right to your core.
“I-I need to come,” you pleaded, feeling more brazen than you had in your whole life. You’d never been the sort to beg to come, but the thought of it thrilled you almost as much as his fingers inside of you.
“Then come for me.”
Your reaction was instantaneous, so much so that you had to wonder if it was because you’d needed to come or simply because he’d demanded it. Your body started to tremble and shake, your walls clenching around his fingers as they continued to move inside you, and the sounds you were making - if you hadn’t felt completely out of your mind, you would have been embarrassed by the desperate noises.
As you came you barely noticed his hand slip from your hair to press against your chest, resting over your racing heart. Your head turned and his lips quickly claimed yours, swallowing down your moans, his fingers still dragging out your orgasm until your legs felt so weak you weren’t sure you’d be able to stand without his arms around you.
Without warning, Billy's hand slipped from between your legs and he swept you off your feet, carrying you back to the sofa. He sat back with you on his lap, holding you close, your body trembling so much that you worried it would never stop. It felt like he’d broken something inside of you and your body didn’t know how to process all the pleasure he’d created.
Being on his lap didn’t help, but it would have been a lie to say you hated the feeling of his arm wrapped possessively around you and his hand resting on your bare thigh. You curled against him, your head on his chest as you slowly caught your breath.
Billy’s lips pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head as you finally started to sill.
“Are we going to -”
“Not tonight,” he answered, not needing you to finish the question. “I’m not going to rush you.”
Even though he was still hard, he didn’t want anything else. You weren’t sure if it was a rejection or if he really didn’t want to rush you, but it left you feeling even more uncertain.
When you found the nerve to lift your head, he gave you a gentle smile, his fingers squeezing your thigh tenderly.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.
Any conversation felt like it would be for your benefit rather than his. Billy seemed perfectly comfortable with what had just happened.
“Thank you,” you told him softly.
“For what?” Both confused and amused by the comment.
“For - for asking first,” your voice broke a little.
His gaze darkened, an unasked question on his lips. He was angry, not at you but at what the comment implied. Thankfully, he didn’t ask, didn’t push for an explanation you didn’t want to offer.
“You always have a choice here,” he reminded you. “You can always say no to this. I’ll never hold it against you.”
You stayed silent for a beat. “What if I don’t want to say no?”
“Then I’ll make sure you enjoy your time here with me.”
“But that’s all it’ll be?”
“Yes,” he answered, “I won’t pretend I can offer you more than that.”
“Okay, good. I-I don’t want anything serious.” The comment earned a strange smirk from him. “What?”
“I just didn’t expect you to want anything so casual. You’re constantly surprising me.”
“I -” you paused, biting your lip, “- I want to have fun. I want to experience the things I’ve been missing out on.”
“That’s something I’d be more than happy to help with, hummingbird,” he told you, smiling that cocky smile, making you want to melt.
“I’ve never...” you trailed off and saw his eyebrow raise, “I mean I’ve never done anything like... friends with benefits?”
“I thought I was paying you for your blood, not your friendship?” He smirked, recalling the terrible comment you’d made when you’d been angry with him. Then he shrugged. “It’s simple; we hang out and, if you want me to touch you, I’ll touch you. We’re just two adults having fun with an equal say in what happens.”
“Even when you give me rules to follow?” A shiver running up your spine as you remember the way he’d commanded and you’d obeyed.
“I told you, I like to be in control. But if it doesn’t work for you, there are no consequences.” He fell silent for a moment, the smirk on his lips seeming to grow. “Unless you want consequences.”
All you could do was nod, not daring to ask what kind of consequences he might have in mind.
“I have a rule too,” you dared to say.
“Oh?”
“You can’t lie to me.”
Clearly he hadn’t been expecting that but he quickly conceded. “That’s fair. As long as you follow my rule, I’ll follow yours - even when you’re in bed with your vibrator.”
Your heart almost stopped and your cheeks started to burn with embarrassment.
“How did you -” you could barely get the words out, completely mortified.
“You moaned my name,” Billy continued, not in the least bit embarrassed. He’d heard you across the penthouse. “All I could think about over dinner was how wet you must have been and the way you moaned when you came.” His hand moved to your cheek, making sure your gaze didn’t drop in embarrassment. “It’s been a long time since I’ve jerked off, but listening to you had me coming all over my hand.”
Biting your lip, embarrassment and shame filled you, but Billy still wouldn’t let you look away. His thumb grazed your lip and left you speechless.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he told you, “those toys are yours to use whenever you need to, as long as you remember that your orgasms are mine now.”
You weren’t used to anyone being so candid but, you had to concede, it was exactly what made Billy the best person to help you experience new things. He knew what he was doing and he wasn’t shy about what he wanted.
“I’m not embarrassed,” an obvious lie that Billy decided not to call you on. “Things like that just aren’t exactly acceptable where I’m from.”
“Was that your first time pleasuring yourself - or was it your first time using a vibrator?” He asked, sounding like he was enquiring about something utterly mundane.
“Using a vibrator,” you answered, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.
“Well, you never have to feel ashamed of doing anything that makes you feel good while you’re here,” he told you with enviable confidence.
“Like Dorian Gray?” You offered with the smallest of smiles.
Billy let out a huff of laughter. “Does that make me your Lord Henry?”
“Only if you plan on leading me astray,” you answered back.
“Oh, little hummingbird,” he smiled, leaning towards you, “you’ve got no idea.” Before you could answer, his lips were on yours again.
Minutes ticked by with his lips on yours, enjoying everything about the moment, about him. When he finally pulled away, you let out a content sigh, smiling as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“So, this rule of yours... I take it you have a question, something you want me to answer honestly?”
You were quiet for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Have you ever done this before, with someone living here like me?”
“No, not like this,” he answered instantly, and it was good enough for you.
As he pulled you close again, you found yourself yawning, exhaustion catching up with you. Billy checked his watch.
“Looks like I’ve kept you up past your bedtime,” he joked, sitting forward and helping you to your feet. “We can continue getting to know each other tomorrow night, if you’d like.”
You nodded, barely even noticing that the pair of you were moving until you found yourself at the door to your rooms. His weight shifted from left to right, and you knew without looking that he was still hard. Your fingers tangled with his sweater at his waist and, for a few seconds, you just looked at him. Billy gave you a smile before pressing his lips to your forehead.
“Goodnight, little hummingbird. And remember, I’ll know if you break the rules.”
Biting your lip again, you nodded, and finally pulled yourself away from him and slipped through the door.
End Note : I never know what to say after the spicier chapters so... hope you enjoyed this and it lives up to expectations. Thanks so much for all the genuinely lovely comments and feedback over last four weeks, I'm loving how much people seem to be enjoying this story!! Hope you all have a great weekend!
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt. (Note: Tumblr is currently being stupid and only letting me tag five people at a time, so I'll be tagging people in the comments. Sorry if you get tagged twice!!)
Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17 @sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim @countryday @weepingwitchofthewest @broadwaybabe18 @bunnygirlwriter876 @oliviaewl @rosey1981
#billy russo#billy russo x reader#billy russo fanfic#billy russo x female reader#the punisher#billy russo imagine#(ob)ts ff
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*not-really-a-spoiler spoiler alert for TSC but it’s really all conjecture*
Jean and Jeremy clearly have mutual attraction, but I’m not sure how Jean’s recovery is going to progress and what’s going to go down on Jeremy’s side of things in TSC2. But if it goes in a way where they become a thing, I’d imagine their first kiss like this:
Jeremy and Jean’s first kiss is not passionate nor surprising. I think it’d just be like taking a sigh of relief.
It’s relief for Jean because he finally found the right person at the right time. He found someone who wasn’t a savior (because Jean would’ve made USC work with or without Jeremy’s help), just did what Jean needed without keeping track. Jeremy is what he didn’t know he needed.
It’s a relief for Jeremy because Jean never offers to carry some of the weight on Jeremy’s shoulders. He just shoves Jeremy aside and carries it with him in silence. Jeremy initially thinks Jean is just filling his role as his partner, but starts catching the differences between how Jean describes past Raven partners and how he treats Jeremy. Starts noticing that this isn’t transactional. Jean is what Jeremy didn’t know he could have.
Jeremy knew he’d run out of steam in giving Jean what he thought Jean needed after the summer was over and he had to live at home again. He stops giving. But Jean doesn’t. Jean took a lot in the beginning because he was relearning how to be human and accepting himself as one. But Jean is a quick learner and Jeremy feels stranded. Jeremy feels like he hasn’t given enough and the fact he can’t give more has him thinking he’s failed. Jean doesn’t even blink when Jeremy starts fading. He’s not one to stop and coddle Jeremy, he keeps going because neither of them can afford to stop but carries Jeremy with him.
Jeremy doesn’t think he deserves Jean. Jean is trying to relearn what he does and doesn’t deserve. But one thing is clear: they both deserve the respite they’ve found in each other. It’s a relief for them both that they’re able to express how much they care for each other in this way.
Their kiss happens when they’re alone in the living room. Jeremy rests his head in Jean’s lap while Jean fiddles with his curls. Somewhere along the way they found warmth in small touches like this. It isn’t Jean who kisses Jeremy. It isn’t Jeremy who kisses Jean. They both just lean in slow but unhesitant and follow through.
They both know they could take this somewhere, that it would be safe and easy and lovely to get lost in each other, but they’re just tired. It’s enough to just stay in this moment. They fall asleep like that and don’t wake til the early hours of the morning.
Jeremy wakes up first but manages to not startle Jean into waking as he gets up. It’s the weekend so he’s staying the night in his and Jean’s bedroom. He pushes their beds together, but doesn’t mess with the sheets. He goes to collect Jean and they don’t say a word as they both trudge their way to bed. Jean treats the beds as if they were always this way and climbs under his own sheets, watching as Jeremy climbs into his own before closing his eyes. They fall asleep in minutes. Jean still somehow wakes up with his hand in Jeremy’s curls though.
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Sev with a ver nerdy reader. Very loser vibes with glasses and all. Could you write about how they meet and get together? How their relationship would be and what would other think or do about such a contrast couple?? Xxx love youuuuu
aweee i fucking love this
men and minors dni
singed is a mad genius, you'd never deny that. but mad geniuses tend to get caught up in the whirlwind of their revolutionary thoughts and creations, and they leave behind important things like, you know, numbers. or studies. or a general respect for the scientific method.
so while singed spends his days tinkering in his lab, you spend your days sitting beside him, trying to decipher his discoveries into a language people who aren't mad geniuses can understand.
this is just to say: you're a glorified lab assistant.
you don't know how you caught sevika's eye. you're polar opposites.
sevika fights for a living, she can command a room with a single look, and she's got women swooning for her everywhere she goes. you scribble calculations in a basement for a living, sometimes you and singed are so focused that you don't even speak to each other for days at a time, and you're aware that your glasses, frumpy clothes, and lack of awareness when it comes to style don't exactly make you sexy.
but... somehow, you've enchanted her.
you first met a few months ago, when singed brought you along to a meeting with silco to have you help demonstrate a new varient of shimmer.
typically, singed takes these meetings alone. he likes to keep his science life and his shady dealings as separate as possible-- plus, he knows how nervous you get. but, the new variant required at least two pair of hands to properly prepare, and you were kind of hoping to meet silco's elusive kid-genius foster daughter. singed sings her praises on the daily.
jinx, unfortunately, didn't show up, but sevika did. and you nearly shat yourself, because the woman didn't take her sharp gaze off you for the entire demonstration.
afterwards, when you were packing up in the empty office as singed and silco chatted in the bar downstairs, sevika tracked you down. "hey."
you screamed as you turned around, dropping a vial of shimmer on the ground. she chuckled. "f-fuck sorry." she said, holding her hands up. "didn't mean to sneak up on you."
you pushed your glasses up your nose and just shrugged. "'s okay. i-i'm just jumpy." you whispered.
"you're cute." she'd said.
and then, because you've never been able to be normal about anything in your life, you passed out.
so, the start of your and sevika's relationship was a bit tumultuous. she had to spell it out for you, many times, that she finds you endlessly endearing and adorable.
"during that first meeting. singed read something off his notes but didn't understand, so you explained it to him. just you rambling a bunch of nerd shit, but you made it sound so simple, and you had this sweet sparkle in your eye-- i dunno." she shrugs, then pushes your glasses up your nose for you.
you guys actually balance each other out really well. sevika encourages you to have a bit more of a backbone, you help her see the softer side of things.
she's obsessed with your constant nerdy ramblings. she learns so much from you. she can point to anything and ask you about it, and you'll have an answer.
she'd also never admit it to anyone, but she loves your fantasy books. the nerdier and more complex the better. sometimes, she'll have you read whatever book you're reading outloud, and more times than not, she falls asleep within ten minutes to the sound of your voice.
she's constantly pushing your glasses back up your nose for you. if she notices a smudge, she'll gently take them off your face, clean them with the hem of her shirt, then push them back on your face.
she's obsessed with eating you out while you read or work. she likes to watch you struggle to maintain your focus-- which is usually so laser sharp.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676
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Hiii
Could we get a oneshot about the group(reader is a part of it) having a sleepover after escaping the phantom realm? (throw in some aiden x reader. I am absolutely feral for that boy)
Take as much time as needed! (since you should probably write about the other characters a little more-)
-🤍anon
Sleepy kisses
Aiden Clark x reader
genre: fluff
warnings: swearing, bad grammar
A/N: sorry for the wait!! hope you didn’t lose hope and that I wouldn’t write your request haha
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“Come on guys the movie is about to start!” Taylor yells as everyone settles down on the coach, you and Aiden on a large bean bag his parents owned. Wow that boy is rich. You were watching some random horror movie Aiden saw on tik tok so of course, you had to watch it. It was one of those disturbing movies so you guys didn’t get much food, just in case. Aidens hands were on your thighs which were in his lap, your head on his shoulder.
Everything was going smoothly, you were slowly getting lulled to sleep by the movie (which was surprising since most of the group was actually awake and disgusted) until the power went out. Some cursed, some screamed.. it was a funny sight. You groaned, covering your ears. “Alright whatever, I’m not fucking tired yet, let’s tell funny stories.” Everyone perks up and get up, lighting up a candle in the middle of the living room on the coffee table. It didn’t really light up the room that much but you could at least see something. Tyler grumbled, saying something about Aiden being indecisive and that he wanted to sleep just a second ago. “Okay, who wants to go first?” Aiden asks and everyones stays silent. You all look at each other and then at Aiden. “I see none of us wanna do this so.. how about truth or dare?” You speak up, the rest of the group along with Aiden agreeing.
Worst.decision.ever. Tyler ended up with a full face of make up, Ashlyn had to do some crazy ass yoga move with Taylor, Logan had to eat a spoon full of cinnamon, Aiden jumped from the second floor of their house onto the bean bag (which is slightly torn now) and then there was you, waiting for your turn which you were glad nobody was currently thinking about. “Alright, whose turn is it?” Tyler asks, eyeing you, Taylor and Ben, since you guys were the one that didn’t go just yet. He smirks at you and you shake your head no. “Y/N~ Truth or dare?” He asks and you shrug. “Dare I guess.” You look over at Aiden who looked like he was about to pass out from exhaustion which was a rare sight. “Those energy drink are catching up to his sleep schedule.” You think to yourself and look back at Tyler. “I dare you..” He starts and thinks about a good dare, silence engulfing the room for about few minutes. “Okay I got one, I dare you to kiss Aiden.” He smirks and you look over at Aiden who quickly sat up, eagerly waiting for your kiss. Your face reddens slightly, noticing Ash and Taylor taking out their phones that blinded you since they had flash on. You lean towards Aiden who cupped your cheek, your lips meeting in a quick, but sweet kiss.
Everyone cheers, a few whistles from Tyler, backed up by laughter. Your face reddens but you just laugh it off with the rest of the group. After a few more rounds, you all decided to actually go to sleep since it was almost 2am. You rested your head on Aidens chest, wrapping your arms around his stomach. His nose was nuzzled in your cheek, both of you comfortable in your positions. Your eyes start to feel heavy, slowly starting to loose consciousness when you feel a kiss on your cheek. You smile softly, turning around to face Aiden and cup his cheek, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. Before you could pull away, he weakly pulls you back into a longer kiss. You finally pull away for breath, smiling at each other like two love sick idiots. You finally feel yourself falling asleep, your whole world turning black.
You wake up in the morning to the sound of people talking, opening your eyes you see almost everyone awake. You sit up, walking to your backpack with your stuff and grab fresh clothes and things you need to freshen up, walking to the bathroom to do thise things. You think anout last night, wondering what you and Aiden were. You thought it would be best to ask him today, you you will later when you are alone. You get out of the bathroom, waving everyone goodbye since most of them needed to go home first before going out again. You sit down next to Aiden who almost instantly put his arm around you, kissing you on the cheek. “Good morning my love~” He says and you smile at him lovingly, but then cup his cheeks to make him look at you. “Alright, I need to ask you something cuz I haven’t been sleeping comfortably tonight.” “Well it looked like you were pretty comfortable last ni—” You shut him up with a playful smack on the chest and glare. “Alright, alright im listening.” He says, playing with your fingers. You suddenly get a burst of nervousness, but try your best to shrug it off. “Well.. this will be a bit of an odd question but.. what exactly.. are we?” You ask, making him snap his eyes at you. He looks a bit confused but sighs. “I guess I need to say it don’t I..” He says and you nod; “That would be nice of you.” He chuckles at your bitterness, holding onto your hands; “Y/N.. I love you to the moon and even farther.. I couldn’t imagine life without you. So.. Will you.. be my.. s/o?” He asks awkwardly and you nod eagerly. “Yes! A hundred times yes!” You say enthusiastically and lean in for a kiss, a more sweet one than the one you had last night. Those were some sleepy kisses.
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#school bus graveyard#school bus graveyard x reader#sbg#sbg x reader#school bus graveyard fanfiction#aiden clark x y/n#aiden sbg x reader#sbg aiden clark#aiden clark sbg#sbg aiden#school bus graveyard aiden#aiden clark#aiden clark x reader#aiden sbg#sbg fanfic#sbg webtoon#sbg (webtoon)#sbg requests#school bus graveyard x y/n#school bus graveyard requests
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May i request dante, vergil and nero with a gn!reader who is depressed and has negative thoughts about themselves? (You can ignore it if you feel uncomfortable with it though ^^❤️)
I'm not uncomfortable with it at all! Very comfortable, actually. In fact, I had planned to do this for some time now. Enjoy!
Sparda Boys x Depressed!Reader headcannons
¤ Dante ¤
-Dante's a man who's experienced with depression. He's been very depressed many times throughout his life, to the point that he once considered suicide.
-He knows you're in pain and wants to do his best to help you, so he introduced the coping mechanism he's most familiar with: alcohol.
-You two drink until you're both heavily drunk, then you cuddle on the couch, revealing your deepest secrets to each other. Though it's likely you won't remember much of what you said, Dante will.
-The next morning, he addresses everything you're depressed about, including your low self esteem. He reassures you, telling you you're not worthless, that you're an amazing, strong person, and that he's always going to love you.
-"Look, I know how ya feel, I really do, but you don't need to feel down. Ya know why? Cause you're a badass, capable of pushin' through anything. You can get through this no problem--and I'm gonna be here for you the entire time. I love ya, baby."
-After that, it's loving kisses and warm cuddles all the way until you fall asleep, and then more hugs and kisses until morning.
■ Vergil ■
-Vergil understands your pain, remembering a time when he once thought darkly of himself because of the death of his mother.
-Vergil then decides to do something he'd never do normally: initiate physical affection.
-He scoops you into his arms and holds you, without saying a word. He tightly clasps you to his chest, running his fingers through your hair while rubbing circles into your back.
-After a little while you start confessing your worries to him, breaking down in tears in the process. Vergil holds you and listens to it all, wishing there was more he could do for you. Then an idea pops into his head: He would motivate you.
-"Do not allow yourself to be troubled by such trivial matters. There's no reason to think negatively about yourself when there is nothing negative about you. If others are to blame for your current mood, then give me their names and addresses and I will deal with them myself."
-His words really were motivating, and made you feel better very quickly. When you tried to get off him, he held you down, letting out a small grumble in the process. It seems you're going to be trapped in his arms for a while--better make the most of it.
□ Nero □
-Nero's been through his fair share of emotional crap, so it's safe to say he relates to what you're going through.
-He won't be giving you a pep talk anytime soon, but he will give you as many hugs as you want, as well as listen to anything you might want to get off your chest.
-He doesn't want you to feel like you're worthless or unimportant, or anything negative like that, so he'll be sure to pepper your face with kisses the entire time you talk to him.
-If you start to cry, he'll internally panic because he isn't the best at comforting others verbally, so he'll just squeeze you really right until you stop crying, regardless of whether it's because you're cheered up now or he's crushing your ribs.
-"Alright, I'm not the best at this, so I might sound mean, but you got nothin' to worry about, ok? You're feeling depressed for a stupid reason. I think you're awesome, and you should too. Now c'mere and lemme hold ya."
-And that's just what he does for the rest of the night, snuggling you in an effort to make you feel better.
#Dmc#Dmc5#devil may cry 5#devil may cry#Dante dmc#Vergil dmc#Nero dmc#Dmc dante#Dmc vergil#Dmc Nero#Dmc5 dante#Dmc5 vergil#Dmc5 Nero#Devil may cry dante#Devil may cry vergil#Devil may cry Nero#Devil may cry 5 dante#Devil may cry 5 vergil#Devil may cry 5 Nero#dante x reader#vergil x reader#nero x reader#dmc dante x reader#dmc vergil x reader#dmc nero x reader#devil may cry dante x reader#devil may cry vergil x reader#devil may cry nero x reader#Headcannons#dmc x reader headcannons
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Scorched Dissonance (Chapter 1)
Newt x (Fem)Reader
Synopsis: "Y/N. Group B. Subject B3. 'The Abandoned'." is left behind with Aris in the complex, their supposed "rescuers", put them in. Later, they find a group in a situation similar to their own, Group A. Together they must undergo "Phase Two" of the trials. Through it all, Y/N finds herself getting increasingly closer to a certain boy in Group A, Newt.
Devotion rises and tension follows. With the outside world in shambles, can one still find warmth?
Word Count: 6k
Important Authors Note: Since I've finally finished this long ass fanfic on AO3, I'm going to post the first chapter here and idk maybe bring in some readers looking for something new :)
So if you enjoy, my AO3 is @lamolaine
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The thing about being trapped in a labyrinth for all your known life, is that you never truly leave. You can run away from those walls and never turn back, but mentally you're still there. Trapped and always dwelling over the next escape route.
It's been almost 24 hours since we escaped the maze, though it feels like ages ago. Not one moment passes where I don't think of those we lost. Rachel, Elise, Caroline, too many in such little time. The knot in my chest hasn't left since we escaped that maze. Thinking about that place and the people that were in it, makes every second feel like an eternity. Was there anything I could've done to prevent the casualties? What waits in store for us now since we escaped? So far, life outside the maze still feels like a big puzzle. One we have to solve in order to prosper.
I have these thoughts while I lay on my top bunk staring at the tiled ceiling. Sleep didn't visit me for long last night. I found it difficult to silence my mind for even one second. I can't be left with my own thoughts any longer, it only drags me further into a spiral.
Finally, I sit up, hoping to find another in a similar situation to my own- awake and unable to fall back asleep- but my heart sinks as I look around the bunk room. No one is in their bunk, in fact, there is no other in the room with me. Empty Beds encompany the bunk room, left un-tightly.
I quickly jump down from my bunk, panic begins to seep into my chest. Where could they have gone? Last I checked we were all locked in the bunkroom last night. How did I not hear all of them leave?
I could be overreacting, maybe they were directed to breakfast and wanted me to sleep in. I rush to the door, and though I anticipate it being locked, it opens swiftly. As I open the door I am met with more emptiness and silence. Not a single person in sight. I look around the empty complex, there is nothing where the cafeteria tables used to sit. All furniture was stripped from the common room. I rush down the halls, quickly checking all the doors in the complex. Door after door, locked. But there is one door I have yet to check and I can't believe I didn't think of checking it first.
I frantically head to Aris's room. Since he was the only boy in the group, the people who rescued us felt it was best he got his own room.
To my absolute shock, his door was unlocked. I swing it open, making it slam straight into the wall. Aris shoots up at the noise. His face kniited with confusion. Selfish as it is, a wave of relief overcomes me as I realize I'm not completely alone in this predicament.
"Aris!" I exclaim with a breath of relief, as I rush to his bed. His room mirrors the girls' bunk room exactly. About 14 bunk beds encompass the room and a single desk accompanies each bunk set. He lies on the bottom bunk directly across the door.
"Y/N?" He says, confusion laced in his tone. I stand at the foot of his bed, hands resting on the footboard.
"Everyone is gone. I can't find them anywhere. I searched every room I could and checked every door. I don't know what to do or how to get out. Almost every room is locked. We don't-" I babble frantically.
"Wait, slow down... I'm not even fully awake yet." he mumbles while rubbing his eyes, "What's happening?"
Impatiently I continue, "Aris, everyone is gone. I searched all I could of the building and no one else was there... We've been left behind." I explain. He sits for a moment, staring into my eyes, I assume processing what I told him.
He gets up, breaking eye contact, without saying a word. "What are you doing?" I question, eyeing him with discomposure.
"I'm going to see for myself." He states as he heads for the door, but stops and turns to look at me, "Not that I don't believe you or anything but you know... this is a weird wake-up call". I slightly roll my eyes at his statement, not out of annoyance but of restlessness. He puts his hand on the door knob and tries to open it but it doesn't budge. He tries again more aggressively, using his whole body this time. "The hell?" he mumbles. He turns around, meeting me with a questioning gaze.
"Let me try." I state, moving in front of him to try for myself. I twist the knob and the door doesn't budge. I begin to slam my body into it with frustration. Over and over but its no use. I give up and put my hands on my hips, "well shit..." I breathe, it's taking everything in me to not completely freak out.
"There has to be another way out. I'll look for vents or maybe find a way to break the steel bars on the windows," Aris says while he quickly makes his way around the room. I stand and watch Aris scatter around the room.
How did the door lock? If it was automatic I shouldn't have been able to get inside the room in the first place. Someone had to have locked it from the outside, but who? And how did I not see them? I join Aris on the search for another exit.
﹏
Nothing has been making sense. Aris and I searched the room for what must have been hours. Re-checking areas, making sure we didn't miss anything. We found absolutely nothing.
Now Aris paces the center of the room arms crossed, while I sit on the top bunk of his bed with my feet dangling over the edge. I've decided there is nothing to make sense of. Eventually, one of three things will happen. One, the people who rescued us will realize we did not come along and come back to us. Two, WCKD finds our location and takes us back. Or three, Aris and I die of starvation. The longer I sit here, outcome number three seems to be the most likely, since we don't have any food in the whole complex. We do have water, fortunately, thanks to the bathroom that is connected to the bunkrooms.
I look out the window and estimate its around late afternoon. We've been stuck in this dull bunkroom for only a afternoon and I already feel myself losing my mind. In the maze it was different. We were trapped but at least we had tasks to keep our minds distracted, in here we have nothing but each other and if I'm being honest Aris and I were never that close. He came up in the maze only 3 days before we escaped, so we didn't really get a chance to bond. At least not in the way he and Rachel did. They had an instant connection, I still don't quite understand, considering the little time they had together. But I can relate to his loss.
Caroline was my closest companion in the maze. We came up in the box at the same time as the first group of girls. We gravitated toward each other. Eventually becoming best friends. She was sweet, kind, caring, and the most selfless person I believe I've ever known. Although her selflessness was the exact thing that lead her to her demise. And I can't bare it.
"Hey Aris," I start, Instantly bringing him out of his pacing. "I'm sorry about Rachel." My sudden apology seems to catch him off guard, but he quickly recovers and sits down on his bed underneath the one I currently sit on.
"Thanks." He pauses, and for a moment I think he doesn't want to speak further, til he continues, "You don't have to apologize, its not your fault but my own."
I frown at his words, "Don't say that, you know she wouldn't want you to think that." I pause unsure of what to say, I never felt I was the best with words. "If it weren't for her who knows when we would have escaped that maze--"
"Yeah but that's the thing..." Aris interrupted, "she didn't have to die, it was me who was in front of that gun, I was supposed to-" He chokes on his words and begins to break down. I jump down from my bunk and sit down next to him, squeezing his shoulder.
"That's not true, no one was supposed to die." I consult, "Even if it were true, here you are now. What happened, happened. She chose to make that sacrifice and now its up to you to choose what to make of that." We sit there for a moment, Aris slows his breathing a bit, taking in what I said. I decided I should probably leave him be and get some sleep. I stand and start to head to my bunk until Aris speaks.
"I'm sorry about Caroline, I know you and her were close", I freeze at the thought of her for a moment, till I muster a soft 'thank you' and head up to my bed. I feel relieved that Aris doesn't try to consult further. I don't think I'd be able to talk about her. Her smile, her laugh, her voice. I hope that one day I will be able to think of these details with fondness and gratuity rather than grief.
﹏
I wake to the sound of Aris shuffling in his bed. Sleep came surprisingly easy last night.
I find myself becoming somewhat motivated to take a shower, since I don't have much else to do. I get down from my bed and check the door once more and twist the knob... still locked. As I turn around, I notice Aris is awake. He looks at me and shrugs his shoulders, insinuating he was thinking the same thing I was thinking. It was worth a shot.
"I'm getting in the shower, do you have any spare clothing in here?" I ask, he yawns groggily, seemingly still waking himself up.
"Yeah uh- check the drawers in the corner over there" He points to the east corner of the room. I scour through the drawer and pick out a pair of grey sweatpants and a white long sleeve.
I take my time in the shower, cherishing the feeling of the hot water traveling down my back. A feeling I felt deprived of in the maze. I've showered a total of 3 times since arriving here and it's almost been 2 days. I still feel like I haven't scrubbed the feeling of the glade off my body. It lingers on my skin and I fear it will always be there– part of me.
I dress myself in my sweats and my sports bra. While I dry my hair, I believe to hear conversation outside the bathroom. Is Aris talking to himself? But the voices are different. They can't be coming from one person. They range in distance.
I try to listen more closely, still standing in front of the mirror. I can barely make out what is being said but the voices get closer.
"Who is in there?" a voice asks accusingly.
"Hey man I wouldn't open that door if I were you" I hear, what I believe to be Aris's voice, point out.
"Why? You hiding something?" the voice asks, suddenly the bathroom door swings open. An Asian boy around my age makes eye contact with me, his eyes widen and he closes the door in a flash. I feel myself too stunned to move. Who the hell was that? Snapping myself out of my thoughts I hear others question what was behind the door.
"It's... a girl." The boy announces. I hear the room burst into conversation. I immediately put on my shirt and open the door. I'm immediately hit with a strong overt smell, a smell that wasn't present before my shower. I can't help but cringe as I hit the open air.
The smell becomes the least of my worries as I look around the room.
Conversation stops and a group of boys are gathered in Aris and I's room. They all look at me with a mix of confusion and awe, like they haven't ever seen a girl before. I set my gaze on Aris who still sits on his bed, seemingly still shocked by the whole situation.
I look back at the group of boys once again, "Who the hell are you guys?" I ask with clear confusion in my tone. My eyes catch a certain blonde, who stares back in curiosity. A wave of familiarity hits me, like a slap in the face.
"We were just asking your buddy here the same thing." I shift my gaze to a boy with brown hair and blue eyes, Whose tone was overcome with frustration.
I look to Aris, who rolls his eyes keeping eye contact with the brown hair kid.
"Look man," Aris says "I'm not telling you who we are until you tell us who you all are."
The blonde with deep brown eyes speaks up, a thick accent lacing his words. "Don't bloody mess around. There are lot more of us than there are of you, so tell us who you both are."
Aris looks like he is about to snap. Just before he erupts I cut him off, "I'm Y/N," I greet and motion to my bunkmate, " that's Aris."
Aris speaks up again, "Anything else you wanna know?" He says in a mocking tone. The brown hair kid looks as if he is about to punch Aris, but he continues to question.
"How did you get here? And what happened to the girl that slept here last night?" Aris and I share a questioning look with each other. Who even are these guys? And What is this guy on about? What girl? He can't possibly mean me.
"What girl? I'm the only girl who slept here last night and its been that way for the past 24 hours" I announce.
The brown hair kid points to the door out into the common area. "There's a sign right out there that says this is her room. Teresa...Agnes. No mention of two shanks named Y/N and Aris."
Something in Aris switches, he seems to have finally ground himself a bit, his expression becoming more neutral. "Look man, I don't know what you're talking about. They put us in here 2 days ago, we slept in this bunk"- he gestures to the bunk he sits on– "I woke up about 15 minutes ago and have never heard the name Teresa Agnes in my life."
The group looks to me as if expecting me to confirm Aris's explanation, I do so with a nod. The brown-haired kid and the blonde, share a look. Like they are having a silent conversation.
"So who put you both in here the other night?" the blonde asks.
"We don't really know. A bunch of people with guns rescued us and put us here." I try to explain, leaving out the rest of the group. I didn't feel like explaining that whole situation when I didn't quite understand it myself.
"Rescued you from what?" the brown hair kid asks.
I answer bluntly, "The maze."
The group looks at us in disbelief. Some with their mouths agape, I certainly don't feel like explaining the whole maze concept to them.
"We have a lot to talk about." the brown hair kid says.
"What do you mean?" Aris looks at him in confusion, I mirror his expression.
"The Maze, The Grievers, WICKED, you name it." He responds.
Now it was Aris and I turn to have our mouths agape. "You're lying," Aris accuses, his voice dropped to a whisper, his face now pale.
The blonde speaks up, "Thomas is right, We need to talk. Sounds like we've come from similar places."
"You all came from a maze too? When did you escape?" I ask my curiosity getting the best of me. They could very well be lying to gain our trust, but something tells me they are telling the truth. It would make sense, they all seem to be around our age, which seems to be WICKED's target subject group.
"We escaped yesterday, brought here last night," Thomas, as the blonde called him, explains. Then he turns to his group, "Before we explain all that, we need to find Teresa. She must be in some other room."
"Isn't one." I remark.
Thomas looks back at me in question, "What do you mean?"
"Ran this whole complex the other day. There's that big common area,"-- I gesture outside the door– "this room, your dorm room, and some seriously locked up doors that have been chained up by our rescuers" I emphasize my sarcasm on rescuers, given that they are responsible for trapping us here.
Thomas furrows his brows, disappointed at my statement. I feel myself empathize with him a bit, "Although you could check again, It's been a bit since Aris and I left this room. We've been locked up in here since yesterday morning, so who knows maybe something has opened up." I mention, in hopes that maybe it will lift his spirits. But to no avail, he looks more disappointed and confused.
"But what about last night? Where'd the food come from? Did anyone notice other rooms? A kitchen, anything?" Thomas looks around looking for an answer but everyone stays silent, knowing the answer. Thomas's mention of food makes me notice the pit in my stomach. How come they ate last night and Aris and I didn't hear a thing? When was the last time I ate?
"Maybe there's a hidden door?" The Asian kid proclaims, "We can run the building again and look, but we need to do one thing at a time. We need to–"
"No!" Thomas interrupts "We have all day to talk to those two shanks, we need to find Teresa now! What if she's in trouble?" Thomas gives the room a look of disappointment and storms out the room in search of the girl named Teresa.
The group watches Thomas leave then their gazes shift to Aris and me.
"Sorry about him, he and Teresa were close. He's just... a little stressed." the blonde explains.
"A little..." Aris mumbles as I elbow him.
"It 's fine, I get it." I say as I turn to the blonde, "Now that we introduced ourselves, mind if you tell us who you all are?"
"Right, sorry. I'm Newt" he gestures to his other friends insinuating for them to introduce themselves.
"Minho. And uh- sorry about the bathroom thing," he awkwardly adds.
I laugh at his sudden change in demeanor, "It's fine, really. Just maybe knock next time." He lets out an abash laugh.
The others continue to introduce themselves and I try my best to memorize all their names, though I was never good with names. It took me all the 3 years we were in the maze to remember everyone's name, including the greenies.
﹏
There wasn't much room for everyone to sit with all the bunk beds scattered. So we all moved the beds against the wall, making the room more spacious and less crowded. Once everyone was settled in their spots, Thomas had finally come back from his hiatus. He entered the room, a look of obvious defeat on his face.
Minho pats a spot on the floor next to him, "They tried to tell ya, dude. Have a seat and let's talk." Without responding Thomas takes a seat.
"All right, let's get started on the bloody storytellin' so we can get to the real problem --finding something to eat." Newt says.
"Amen." I agree, holding my abdomen. The pit in my stomach has turned into an aching knot.
"Good that." Minho says turning to me and Aris, "Now you two. Talk. Tell us everything."
Aris shakes his head, "No way. You guys go first." They stare daggers at each other, my eyes shift from Minho's to Aris's, watching the tension grow.
"Yeah?" Minho responds sharply, "How about we all just take turns beating the living klunk out of your shuck face? Then we'll ask you to talk again."
"Minho," Newt says sternly. "There's no reason–"
Minho Interrupts, "Please, for all we know these two shanks could be with the creators. Somebody with WICKED, here to spy on us. They could have killed those people out there, they are–"
"Wait-wait, slow down. What people?" I ask. How could they not mention this?
"Don't be like that! You've had to have known about those people out there. I mean do you not smell them?" Minho emphasizes loudly.
That's where that smell is coming from...
"Yes I have noticed that smell," I exasperate, "I first noticed it went I walked out of that bathroom." I point to the bathroom door, "So if I'm being honest I genuinely thought that smell... came in with all of you." I hold back a smile and notice Minho growing with frustration.
Newt holds back a laugh but quickly composes himself with a cough, "Minho...relax, I doubt those two are capable of killing those people out there"
"Thank you!" Aris says
"But," Newt cuts Aris off, "He's got a point. Just tell us what you meant about coming from the buggin' maze. That's where we escaped from, and we obviously haven't met you."
Aris rolls his eyes in defeat. I decided I should probably be the one to talk about our maze. "I think its safe to say we came from two separate mazes. It wouldn't surprise me if WCKD had made more than one maze. I mean those greedy little bastards can't get enough of torturing kids." I pause for confirmation on my theory. I hear murmurs of agreement and take it as a sign to continue. "So, I was thrown in this gigantic maze made of huge stone walls– but before that, my memory was erased. I couldn't remember anything about my life before. I just knew my name." I look to Aris to see if he wants to add anything, and he intervenes for me.
"It was a Glade full of girls, making me the only boy. We escaped a few days ago with a group and were placed here. Until yesterday morning when the group vanished leaving me and Y/N here stranded." Aris explains as I nod in support. "What's this stuff about you being in a maze too?" He adds.
"It's the same shucking experiment" Minho murmurs, bewildered.
"It was the same for us, except we were a glade full of boys and one girl." Newt adds.
"Did things start going haywire when the girl showed up? And the person before the girl?" I ask.
"Yes! Things started to change fast" Newt says.
I notice Thomas turns to Aris. Finally joining the conversation. "Did they call you the trigger"? He questions Aris. Aris quickly nodded with wide eyes. "And could you..." Thomas began but hesitated for a moment, "Could you speak to one of those girls inside your mind? You know, like telepathically?" Aris's eyes widen further at Thomas's words, his skin impossibly turns another shade paler. They take a moment both staring at each other, seconds pass. Newt, Minho, and I all share a look of confusion and discomfort.
"What is going on?" Newt asks, now looking between the two of them. "Why're you guys looking at each other like you just fell in love?"
I laugh at his remark, "Seriously, you both look like you're about to share a kiss." I add.
The rest of the group and I share a laugh while Aris and Thomas come back to reality.
"He can do it too." Thomas answers.
"Do what?" one of the group members asked. I think I recall him calling himself Frypan.
"What do you think? He's a freak like Thomas, they can talk in each other's heads." Minho pronounces.
"Serious?" Newt asks glaring at Thomas, who shakes his head in confirmation, dumbfounded he found someone with a similar ability. "Can you?" Newt questions, turning to me.
"Nope." I answer blatantly. I knew Aris and Rachel used to share the same ability, so if Thomas's maze was just like ours maybe he shared that ability with someone as well. Maybe that's who Teresa is.
"Doesn't matter who can do it and who can't. Why did your group leave you behind? You traitors or something?" Minho probes.
"We don't really know why, they just kind of disappeared." I answer, and the group eyes me in disbelief. "Look, I know it's hard to believe but it's true. Why would we lie about being abandoned by our group? It embarrassing to admit if anything."
The group stays silent. Some seem to be contemplating our honesty while others attempt to put pieces together.
Aris pips up, "Listen, we are just as confused as all of you. We got separated, then you sticks showed up."
"Sticks?" Minho smirks.
"Never mind, it's not important. Just stupid slang they used in our maze." Aris rolls his eyes. The boys share a slight smile with one another. Realizing both our mazes created their own vocabulary. Shank. A word I hope isn't too derogatory, as they have been calling us this since they first arrived.
Suddenly Frypan gestures to Aris, "What's that on your neck, man?"
I look to Aris and to my surprise there seems to be some sort of lettering on his skin, peaking out of his t-shirt.
"What?" Aris responds, his eyes widening. "Is it a bug?" He frantically grabs his t-shirt and attempts to look at his neck.
I let out a small chuckle, "No you stick," I say moving his t-shirt aside without thinking. Then I see what it is, my heart skips a beat. "It's...it's a tattoo?" I mutter.
"What? When- How did that even get there?" He asks. I stare at it, he definitely didn't have that before. Someone would have noticed.
"What does it say?" Minho questions
I begin to read off the tattoo, "Property of WICKED. Group B. Subject B1... The Partner."
Aris whips his head around, "Wha- what does that even mean?" He mutters.
"Are you really insinuating that tattoo just appeared out of the blue? Overnight? Without you knowing..." Thomas challenges.
"I swear man I had no idea that was there!" Aris counters fearfully, his hands in the air and eyes darting around the room.
"Aris...no offense but you have a crazy low pain tolerance." I say, recalling his time in the maze. In the little time he was there he would often visit me at the HealTec hut complaining about some innocuous splinter or ingrown toenail he got from the running shoes. I continue, "How would you not notice a whole tattoo being plastered on your neck and back?" Aris looks at me, giving me a look that so clearly asks, 'Whose side are you on?' I shrug in indifference.
"Speak for yourself." Minho pipes up, "I think you have one too." He points to my neck.
I freeze. There is no way I wouldn't notice, "I'm sorry?" I mutter.
Aris turns me around so my back faces him. "Holy shit...he's right."
"What? What does it say?" I question holding up the back of my t-shirt.
I can feel Aris grow nervous, making me feel even more unsettled. It can't be that bad.
Newt leans in and reads it aloud for him, "Property of WICKED. Group B. Subject B3. The Abandoned."
"Oh well... that's sweet of them." I say sarcastically, pulling my shirt back down. "Aris, you were left behind too, how come yours says 'The partner'?" I turn to face him. The room has grown into slight whispers.
"How am I supposed to know?" Aris responds, clearly taken aback by the current situation.
"Maybe its referring to something else." Minho suggests impatiently, "But you two can't possibly think we are going to believe you two just miraculously woke up with tattoos."
Aris and I look at each other, an explanation escaping us both. Not quite sure how to get these guys to believe us. Until I look over to Minho, my eyes catching a certain ink mark peaking out from his shirt neckline. One similar to Aris and I's.
"Um...you have a-uh" I gesture to my own neck in reference to his.
"What? You run out of excuses?" Minho continues to question.
Newt looks to Minho, his eyes widen as they land on the ink stain, "No you shank! She is referring to your neck! You have a tattoo too!" He lifts his friends' shirt.
"What?" Minho questions, looking over his neck at Newt. "Do we all have shucking tattoos?"
With Minho's comment, the room bursts with conversation. Each boy looks to their buddy and reads out their tattoos.
Newt reads out Minho's, "Property of WICKED. Group A, Subject A7. The Leader."
"What? Dude." Minho quickly turns to Thomas, "You're kiddin' me, man." Thomas shrugs his shoulders and turns around silently asking Minho to read his off. I almost want to laugh at the whole situation. One moment they are accusing us of lying and the next the whole group is scattering to find out what their own tattoos read.
Newt turns to me, "You mind?" he questions, gesturing to his tattoo. I hesitate, slightly caught off guard.
"Uh- Not at all." I reply, lifting the side of his shirt. "You're subject A5 and they called you the Glue." I release his shirt as he turns to look at me.
"The Glue?" he inquires furrowing his brows.
I shrug, "Way better than 'The Abandoned'." I joke, trying to make light of the situation.
He smiles and lets out a breathy laugh, "I suppose so." I suddenly overhear Thomas pestering Minho about his tattoo.
"What? What does it say?" Thomas catechizes, but Minho just stares. Presumably unable to speak. Thomas turns his head towards the group, "Can someone tell me what this shucking says?"
Aris scoots over to look, his face immediately mimicking Minho's expression. "Uh... It-" he clears his throat, "It says... Property of WICKED. Group A, Subject A2... To be killed by Group B." He looks anxiously over at Thomas who is staring straight ahead as if he couldn't decide if he should be fearful or confused by his title.
Before anyone could say anything, an alarm sounded, blasting through the entire complex. A familiar alarm, I've heard it before. The recognition flashes in my mind just long enough for me to grasp where I've heard it. The newbie alarm, although this time it's more distinct and prominent. I assume it's due to the more confined space the alarm sound is traveling through.
Everyone seems to be thinking the same thing. Their faces crossed with familiarity, cupping their ears for protection.
Newt is the first to shout over the noise, "It's the bloody Greenie alarm!"
"I know!" hollers Thomas, "Why's it ringing?"
The others shrug. Frypan heads for the door but Thomas pushes himself infront of him. "Wait!" he intergects.
"What?"
"I don't know," Thomas replies, "It's an alarm. Maybe something really bad is happening!"
Frypan looks at him quizzically, "Uh yeah, and maybe we need to get out of here!" Without waiting for a reply Frypan pushes past Thomas and tries for the door. The door doesn't budge. He puts his weight into it, shoulder first. No dice.
Thomas is next to try. Body square with the knob ,he aggressively fumbles with it. Until he stops and turns to face the room...knob in hand.
"Fantastic," I mutter under my breath, though not loud enough to be heard over the alarm.
"You broke the Shuck handle!" Minho barks. Thomas slaps the door with the palm of his hand out of frustration. For a moment everyone is still, waiting for the alarm to stop.
As if the group's prayers were answered, the alarm stops. And silence has its own sound once again.
Newt breaks the silence, "Don't tell me we are going to get bloody greenies in this place."
"Where is the box in this shuck place?" Minho mutters sarcastically.
The door creaks open and everyone's heads turn toward the sound. The common room is pitch black, and the lights outside are turned off.
I turn to Aris, "Looks like we aren't grounded in our rooms anymore." I smirk. He chuckles in slight relief. I look at the group A boys and none of them have moved.
"You first." Minho gestures to Frypan.
"No way dude, what if somethings out there."
I let out a deep breath and shuffled my way through the crowd of boys, "Bicker all you want, I'm out." I say as I exit the room into the dark common area. "You guys know where the light switch is?" I examine, skimming my hands gently across the wall.
"Should be to your left!" Minho answers following behind me.
"Oh, I feel it!" I switch the lights on. The sudden brightness sends my eyes into fluorescent shock.
"Why did they even turn the lights off in the first place? Or even better, who turned them off?" Thomas sweats.
Minho looks back at Thomas, a mocking smirk painted on his face. "Why do you even bother asking questions, dude? Nothing has ever made sense."
"And it probably never will," Newt adds with a sigh, as he enters the newly lit room with his hands on his hips.
I look around the common room. it's probably been 24 hours since I've left that bunk room, but I can't help but reminisce about the first time I had entered the common area. The day my group escaped the maze. Most were skeptical about our rescue but grateful for the food and showers nonetheless. It was the first smile I had seen on my friends' faces in a while.
I look at the others, they all seem to be taken back. Something obviously bothers all of them.
Before I can question, Thomas whispers, "Impossible." He walks further into the common room near the east hall. "It's impossible, not enough time has passed for someone to get the bodies out. And no way people came into this buggin' room, we would have heard them!"
I remember the bodies Minho mentioned before. I notice the putrid smell that once encompassed the air is gone. Completely. No trace that there were ever bodies in the room in the first place. I stay silent. Not sure how to respond to the circumstances. I could question them further. Ask if they are sure they saw what they described. But bodies or no bodies, there is nothing in this room now. The questions I have wouldn't get us anywhere.
Minho inquires further. "You're right. We were in that bunkroom for what? Twenty minutes? No way anyone could have moved all those bodies that quickly. Plus, this place is chained up from the inside."
"Not to mention get rid of the smell."Thomas builds.
"Well, you shanks are right smart." Frypan says through a huff. "But take a look around. They're gone. So whatever you think, somehow they got rid of them."
Other group members have migrated to their own bunkroom. A boy whose name I don't recall comes out of the other room, "The beds are made and the drawers are stocked with fresh clothes and new shoes!" He cheers and enters back into the room.
"New watches as well!" Another boy shouts from the room.
I notice for the first time that there aren't that many boys in the group. They must have lost a lot of people in their maze. If they started out with 50 boys in their maze as mine did girls, then they must have lost a lot of people. For this, I can only sympathize further with the group. We are only kids, after all, we shouldn't be experiencing such tremendous loss at our age.
My stomach growls, pulling me out of my thoughts. I realize I haven't eaten since the night we first arrived in this complex, making me slightly lightheaded. I ask Aris to help me in my search for a trace of food or at least supplies to prep our own. Praying that something has opened up since I last checked the complex doors.
We agree to split up, I search the north side, and he searches the south.
We meet up after 15 minutes of testing every door in the complex. Neither of us found a thing. I'm worried if we will ever be given another meal. According to the bodies Minho and his group found, our saviors are supposedly dead after all. Or maybe we were never rescued in the first place. For all we know this could all be WCKD's doing once again. Maybe our next big challenge is to find an exit from this complex and defend ourselves in the mysterious outside world. Whatever is going on, whatever lies in store for us, I'm finally free of that maze
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the high school ask fucking SPOKE to me (https://www.tumblr.com/gabessquishytum/748116722128715776/hob-was-proudly-the-school-slut-before-he-and) mostly because there’s something so sad but also sweet about the idea of all these people trying to shame Hob for his previous promiscuous ways and him being so nervous about Dream dumping him for it, but Dream just being like “?? We weren’t together at the time, so as long as it was safe and consensual why would I care? I trust you to be loyal to me now because you said you would be, why would your past affect that?” And anyone who comes to Dream about Hob’s sexual past with the intent of trying to make him think less of Hob gets Dream’s fist in their face instead. Hob didn’t realize how much he wanted someone to stand up for him until Dream does and it heals something he didn’t even know was cracked.
(Also cue Hob “we’ll mark me down as emotional and horny”)
-🦇
You're so right! It really is very sweet (and Dream is totally in the right for being reasonable about Hob’s past and defending him in the present).
Like imagine if Hob’s promiscuity was actually his way of coping with stress, or maybe some other undiagnosed issues? Hypersexuality is something that's almost never spoken about but it can be a reaction to trauma, a way of exerting some control. Maybe on one level Hob really does love sex, but he's also using it to just cope with his life. He's absolutely not ashamed of what he used to do, but he recognises that it wasn't super healthy. He's at peace with all that. But being shamed and bullied for it really doesn't help, and sometimes he starts to worry that Dream does think less of him.
So it's a relief when Dream completely ices out anyone who talks about Hob is a derisive way. Dream can take down the gossips and the bullies so quickly, it's almost scary. A few barbed words or even a well timed slap, quickly teach a lesson to anyone who wants to make snide remarks. Dream trusts Hob with his heart and he's not about to let anyone cast doubt over that.
And yes, Hob always really did love sex, but he loves it now on a different level. He loves sneaking off with Dream to just tangle up together in each other's arms, no rushing, no expectations, just the love they have for each other expressed in physical form. In many ways Hob is hornier than ever, but it's all just for Dream. He's happy to be Dream’s slut (and yes, he would like to hear Dream call him that affectionately some day, because he's pretty sure it will fix him). He'd be equally happy just holding hands and falling asleep together. As long as Dream wants him? He'll be right there.
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their asses are NOT studying
#asoryuu#the great ace attorney#tgaa#ace attorney#artists on tumblr#i think they fall asleep on each other all the time like this#no homo tho#ryunosuke naruhodo#kazuma asogi
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matthias wiping away theo’s tears 🧎
#river dipping#ts4#ts4 edit#theodore doe#matthias evanoff#a burning house to live in#echthroi#I KNEW I WOULD FALL ASLEEP.............. is it really even a nap if it's four hours long... atp i just went to bed djfknjd#anyway ❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹#originally the final pose between theo as an adult and matthias was just them reaching out to each other but when i was testing the pose#i was just staring at it like this is such a static pose... so i sat there for a good five minutes just trying to think of something else#and when i realized matthias wouldn't be able to just stand across from theo and watch him cry without touching him i started vibrating out#of my skin like . he would need to reach out wipe at theo's face and kiss his eyelids and let theo hide his face in his neck and cry it out#when theo cries it's........#ugh.#he keeps that brave face going for a long time and his eyes might water and tears might spill out some but he stays quiet normally#but if matthias is there.......... if he speaks to theo in that way he does..... if he touches theo....... god it just all comes out#like he cries similar to how he laughs (hence WHY when he genuinely laughs there are times he starts to cry*)#(*refer back to question 89 in the 100 questionnaire w/ theo for more on this ☝️🤓)#it just all spills out when matthias touches him and it's startling coming from someone as reserved as theo yk? it shakes his whole body#he rubs at his eyes with his fists and shakes his head and he apologizes repeatedly and looks down like he's expecting to be hit.......#which. is bc he was actually hit for crying as a child. his father would make him look in the mirror while it would happen...#so theo doesn't look up when he cries generally speaking...#but theo feels safe with matthias. and matthias doesn't ask him to stop apologizing or to calm down. he just lets theo work it out himself#and he gathers theo up into his arms and he holds him. rubs his back. brushes his hands through theo's hair. tells theo he's there.#yeah........... well. glad i've made myself sad first thing after waking up fdvjnkfdhfgnh that's just the mattodore experience baby#ANYWAY. i should take pics of the extra pose i made for this of theo crying into matthias's neck.#you can't see his expression bc he's clutching incredibly close and his face is obscured. but yeah... it's open sobbing atp... lays down#theo theo theo... baby baby baby......#but ok... think i'm gonna eat and then start getting to my activity and also!! reblog some posts i drafted from when i couldn't really type
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a friend who'd wait :)
#im posting this very late because i was sort of weary of how it came out and ended up messing w it until it was like 4am oops.#and i have plans tmrw so... oh well! i did my best and ill put it out while i can!#and i tried to make the scene match barnard's colors lol#finn's ocs#finn's art#i know i said id do more sillay stuff with the simpler screentone only style but i had a couple more of these in me#and this is the first piece im making thats like an actual part of the story too rather than just setting stuff for fun#i wanna write something to go with it too but for now ill just sort of briefly explain the context in the tags here:#barnard has a pretty bad case of OCD and his compulsions have made it difficult to make friends in the past#he was never outright bullied or anything but people just didnt really have the patience to deal with it#he has compulsions that include stuff like walking through doors until it feels right and needing things to be perfectly aligned#which in group settings has lead to people having to wait for him to finish his rituals and join them#they might find it tolerable at first but eventually they grow impatient and hes just... not invited to stuff anymore#but juno is a newer member of the guild who ends up frequenting the same library. hes also kinda a little weird#and they dont become fast friends or anything but just sort of naturally spend time in the same place#though they never plan meetups they eventually fall into a routine. around the same time theyd just both be at the library#and read next to each other. and maybe talk a bit. and eventually they end up walking back to the guildhall together#since theyre going to the same place after all. and juno always waits for barnard outside the door#eventually barnard asks if this bothers him. juno kinda just tells him 'of course it does' without any malice or anything. just a statement#barnard is surprised and apologizes and juno says not to. but the next day juno doesnt show up at the usual time.#barnard assumes hes committed somekinda more by bringing it up. he ends up staying there late reading to get his mind off it & not ruminate#but when he leaves juno is in fact still waiting for him down the hall (see pic) having collected a bunch of books literally abt ocd#he fell asleep bc barnard stayed later than expected. and hes an eepy guy generally. and also one very bad at expressing himself#but now barnard gets that juno's 'of course it [bothers me]' had the implication of 'but its worth it' which no friend has previously done.#and from the interaction juno was also able to understand that this isn't something barnard just does for the hell of it so. he studies.#and checks a bunch of stuff out because he thinks it could help his friend too (theres ocd workbooks and such- i remember working w them)#and thats the point where they became more ''friends'' than ''pleasant library acquaintances''#from there on they also do get into juno's problems. whole other bag of worms. but this specific scene is more about bernard from his pov#sorry about when i said briefly explain. i lied </3#but compared to the whole sequence im picturing its brief so shhh
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okay facing consequences of my actions
#I thought I’d gotten away with it this time#okay it’s 3am and I may have discovered something that completely ruins me#everyone is asleep so I can’t tell if this is me being sleep deprived or not!#so I need to sleep now but I haven’t cleaned my code up or written my answers#I do Not have time#if I don’t sleep now I’m gonna be having a bad time tomorrow morning and I am significantly less productive rn than I could be#with other people around I kinda need that y#so I should go to bed. but also. this code needs cleaning. but also. even if I fall asleep now I’m only getting like 5 hours MAX#I need a good few hours tomorrow morning to have a shot at doing this properly#so it would be more useful to sleep now and wake up as early as possible than keep going tonight bc I’m not going to finish tonight#okay. fuck. I hate this#if I could think straight I’d be able to fix this easy which is probably a good reason to sleep#it’s just an annoying logical problem that I gotta follow through bc currently I’m stuck between three possibilities and there might be more#I have these two rasters and I gotta calculate the area overlap#the first method counts the number of presence points in each (probably) and then counts the number in overlap raster w manually set values#the second counts total predicted points and points where they’re predicted to be alone and does a calculation with that for each species#that one with all points from both species + pseudoabsence. vs method 3 which does that with just individual species coordinates#method 1&2 are now homologous now I JUST caught the logical error but method 3 is what he gave us#but actually he might have fucked up in not including pseudoabsence#i don’t know if method 3 works for two different species either honestly#it gives me results I like much more (my overlap is 100% for one of the species and that shoooouldnt rlly happen even if it’s possible) but#I think it might actually just be wrong because it can’t account for#wait so the line is taking the prediction for all coordinates for each species for each species’ initial coordinates. and not pseudoabsence#and that set of predictions for each species coordinate set is then taken and yeah it’s no longer comparable you can’t count each alone#not with two different species bc you need an overlapping dataset to do that OKAY I have solved that logical problem my initial method works#which is annoying bc the result sucks but whatever I checked the rasters and it’s actually identical so#okay now I’ve figured that out. twenty minutes later. sleep I think it’ll help most#luke.txt
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I need more social interaction. Human contact. Need to feel more normal about it. Is that too much to ask
#bro I can’t feel like that every time I see two people interact with each other#I got asked if I could move my car because they needed to cut the trees next to it#and then I said sure and got to look for my keys and the tallest told the other one ‘there are you happy now?’ but not the passive#agressive way you know it was like teasing and bumped their shoulders (is that how you say it?) and idk i was like aww that’s cute#doesn’t make sense does it#doesn’t help that I had a strange dream with someone who looked just like one of them right this morning#I’m pretty sure it’s because I woke up this morning and heard people and thought that’s probably them and then went back to sleep#but how long does it even take to completely fall asleep and dream and all#anyway I later had to get out of bed in a rush I’m not even sure I’m fully awake yet#splashed my face with cold water many times but I think I also need coffee ☕️ r something#I did not mean for that coffee emoji to be there wtf
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 216
Adjective: Pink
Noun: Peach
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Pink: of a color intermediate between red and white, as of coral or salmon; (of wine) rosé; (informal) (often derogatory) having or showing left-wing tendencies; of or associated with gay people
Peach: a round stone fruit with juicy yellow flesh and downy pinkish-yellow skin; a pinkish-yellow color like that of a peach; the Chinese tree that bears peaches; (informal) an exceptionally good or attractive person or thing
#sorry for being late again#at this point i dont know if i need to say why cos its almost always the same reason: accidentally falling asleep#which is the case this time#as for what happened today i met with our executive director for quite a few reasons#but pretty much the main one was for me to talk to her about how my supervisor has been treating me as of late#(specifically the past couple of months but especially this past week)#cos making me cry once and nearly making me cry another time right as im about to head to court for a hearing with a client is fucked up#and not at all how we should be treating each other (especially supervisors to their subordinates) at a domestic violence agency#and it seems like my supervisor is being so passive aggressive and outright mean to me because my coworker got fired#(shes shown favouritism toward that coworker)#(and im worried she thinks i got him fired when i was only one of many people to bring up to our executive director)#(the ways in which he was harming clients and doing things that are prohibited in our employee handbook)#but my conversation with our executive director went extremely well and made me feel validated and heard and safe/comfy#when it comes to the prompt i know it seems a little redundant or too straightforward#but there is something about it that strikes me as it being mystical or almost cottagecore in a way#it is very aesthetically pleasing to me and the feeling i get from it is nice#i just have absolutely no idea what to write about still#so im hoping something comes to me in due time#thanks for reading#writing#writer#creative writing#writing prompt#writeblr#trying to be a writeblr at least
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