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foxgloveprincess · 9 months

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Hello! So my big burning question for Attic Wives Anonymous is: how on earth did these men find each other?? 😆 Did one one them place a Craigslist ad looking for like-minded individuals? Did two or more of them bump into each other at the hardware store while shopping for supplies at it spiraled out from there? Did they all have previous connections? This whole series has been such a blast so far, but this is the thing I can't stop thinking about. 😄

Hi! 😄

I love your big, burning question about A.W.A. I’ve thought about it because initially, when stringing these separate fics together, it was just on a whim. How they all met might be revealed in the Meeting series, though I don’t know if each backstory will be explained in full. So, I’ll explain it in brief here. Sorry in advance since I’m about to get ramble-y.

It all started with Lloyd and Ari.

Lloyd, as we know, is a mercenary. He acquired his girl (in a way that will be revealed in his story) and then he met Ari. In this universe, I’ve decided that he’s a fixer. He’ll be hired at companies and other organizations (like his reader’s father’s company) to solve problems of various kinds. While hired to fix something that was Lloyd’s doing, they meet and because Lloyd’s shameless, he talks about his girl—which gives Ari his own ideas. He meets li’l dip not too long after.

So the ‘meetings’ start with Ari and Lloyd’s acquaintance, getting together for coffee to discuss needs and how to lure someone in (Lloyd actually really helped Ari perfect his tumblr girl persona 😆 cause he’s a sarcastic little shit). Cue finding the contractor cause Lloyd may have a mansion, but Ari needs some work done on his private cabin to make it conducive for his sweet baby bear.

And in their lines of work, they meet Mr. Freezy cause contract killer isn’t too far from mercenary and sometimes fixing means people have to disappear. So, he joins the circle—cause morally, he’s got no qualms. Freezy decides he wants a wifey for himself and takes his first girl, kitten (who, it turns out, does not have nine lives nor can she land on her feet when she falls).

All while Ari gets hired by the Drysdales to help clean up a little mess Ransom’s made before the media gets to it and disparages their ‘good family name’. And like the self-important, entitled asshole he is, he loves the idea of a girl sequestered away to cater just to him (mostly cause he doesn’t really grasp why these men want to take their girls). And he starts making his list. Too many names that he’s working his way through eliminating while the contractor works on making his attic in Ransom’s exact specifications.

Then they have to help clean up and cover up Mr. Freezy’s mess when kitten takes a long drop out the window. But he moves on fairly quickly to his princess and locks her away. This time, though, they all realize they’ll need to keep a better eye on their wifeys. They’re not gonna go down to Best Buy and grab some random cameras, they want the best of the best. Which leads them to Jake through a recommendation from their contractor. Now, Jake had already met his angel and started his pursuit of her, so he fit right in to the group and was happy to help bolster their security where it was needed.

So, there they were—either happy with their girls locked away or getting ready for them. The only thing is, they don’t have everyone in their network that they need. For one, when their wifey gets sick, they need a doctor. So they find one willing to work with them and make house calls.

They also need someone in law enforcement, who knows the ins and outs, can talk the talk, and can help sweep things under the rug. They stumble upon Andy Barber, a man who has a dark side to him lurking under his shining, righteous exterior. Freezy spots it right away and Lloyd approaches first, but it’s Ari who’s able to talk to Andy and dig deep into that darkness and drag it to the surface. Andy dives in with enthusiasm, spots his honey in a case file and has Freezy snatch her away (sight unseen)—which doesn’t turn out as happily ever after as he was hoping.

And so these six men, with their few accomplices (there might be more helpers in their networks, I just haven’t thought of them yet), have figured out what they want and how to keep it. The six meet at a set time every week or so at a centrally located community recreation center to discuss how things are going, any problems that arise, or best practices for whatever. They always clean up after themselves and everyone knows that no one bothers them, ever.

That’s just how I thought of it and how it all came together for me. This is a rough timeline with some wiggle room in when the guys actually joined. But they all came together through shared interest or necessity (which turned into shared interest). Hope this answers your question to your satisfaction. But, if not, I’m always happy to discuss my stories and answer questions to the best of my ability.

🗝️ Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist 🗝️

#✨rachel replies✨#with a goddamn essay #my brain just went *word vomit*#krirebr #attic wives anonymous #tw dark themes #18+#minors dni

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bloodboyx · 2 years

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I wonder how often beavis goes off on his own like in "the special one". Like, he and butthead are practically joined at the hip 24 goddamn 7 so like, what's up? Whys he suddenly out on his own at a wings place of all places harassing the poor worker by himself. There was no reason brought up for why he was alone, but I do think it's somewhat implied in a way I dont think the writers even meant to do

Beavis literally cannot be on his own ever, he never goes out without butthead, the only time he's done this before is in one of the comics, after being fed up with buttheads abuse towards him, and he goes off on his own before very quickly realizing that being on his own sucks and he comes home and pretends it never happened. Butthead is implied to have not noticed him leave but, I think otherwise but that's a different thing

But back to "the special one"

This fire is bossing him around just like butthead would, but in the opposite direction. Making him do good things and improving himself. And he uses butthead to motivate beavis, pointing out how abusive he is towards him and beavis agrees to this sentiment

I think they had a fight

That's why beavis is on his own

And whether or not the fire is even truly sentient or just a hallucination to beavis debatable

I'm placing my bets that "fire" is indeed just in beavis's head, just like the other voices from before. Except this time we actually get to see what beavis is seeing, as opposed to simply watching from an outside point of view

"Fire" was his own way of mentally working out how he felt being on his own and apart from butthead. He realized he needs butthead to tell him to do dumb things or else he'll do good things and become a wussy baby that goes to college and picks up litter

He needs butthead

#this is literal word vomit dont even take this seriously #first time im ever posting one of these rants instead of just shoving them into my notes to rot #my post #beavis and butthead #this post started as me just asking the question but then i just fully went in 💀#brain is fully rotted #also yes i know this episode was mainly to poke fun at past censorship

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palms-upturned · 1 year

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Needed to listen to some music while I did the dishes and for some reason picked “von” from the zankyou no terror soundtrack and jesus god. Experiencing emotions that don’t exist.

#meg talks #i don’t think i ever rewatched znt #i watched it back in like 2014 or 2015 the one time and the ending made me so sad i never revisited it #but god. i went back and watched the ferris wheel scene just now and it’s such a great scene on its own #but von just Makes It u know. yoko kanno you never fucking miss #i need to rewatch it just for the music. god.#but anyway i don’t think i rlly appreciated the ferris wheel scene as a youngun #i mean i must have to some degree bc it’s like the only scene from the whole show that i remember lmfao #but watching it this time… god… ‘’you don’t have to apologize anymore. it’s not your fault.’’#and the quiet way he just goes to work even tho he knows it won’t change anything… the love in that…#and how lisa’s fear just vanishes when she realizes what it means that someone loves her enough to die for her and doesn’t even blame her…#like just hearing that and feeling loved so completely made her no longer afraid to die bc it was all she ever wanted. god. jesus fucking ch #anyway it gave me some evil ideas about cunoesse and ruby of all things. no i won’t elaborate bc the context is all in my brain #but like imagine i wrote a sweeping epic about ruby klaasje and cunoesse all on the lam #and it was awesome and sad.#idk maybe if anyone wants to hear me word vomit in dms or smth i will but it’s too embarrassing to try to explain LDKSHSGDJ #anyway. the dishes did get done in case u were wondering. just very somberly

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sorikkung · 2 years

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I saw your masterlist and I was planning on binge read everything very soon, but something always comes up and I never recall on doing!!! But I will!

Have no idea about the tags, honestly. Our beloved app started with the amazing non delivering notifications shit again, so I have no idea if worked or not but that's that. Living on Tumblr is always a struggle.

I mean, I have all my life to wait for it... Just take your time and don't pressure yourself do finish if you didn't even started lol I bet that, when everything is organized in your head (and papers or whatever) it will come to you and you'll manage to write it amazingly like you always do! I trust you!

ahaha there's no rush, my masterlist isn't going anywhere!!

"everything is organized in your head or on papers whatever" babygirl i would not know organization if it stared me in the face but i appreciate the vote of confidence <3

#JDKDHDJD my masterdoc is over 5k words long and most of it is just word vomit #im TRYING to have it semi organised with like headers and shit i got glossaries and character profiles and world directories and shit #but then the actual content is like #'oh yeah and theres dragons. thats important'#'it went about as well as you can imagine telling a 12 year old you eat people could go'#the doc is called 'i have no self control' and one of the headers is named that where its just a bunch of random ideas #that i havent been fucked to put under an appropriate subheader #and then those 5k words dont even scratch the SURFACE of how much of it ive planned in my head via daydreaming at work #peer into my brain and you will see what insanity looks like HDKSHAHDJDHDJS

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lovverletters · 22 days

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ILLUSION˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

❝IN WHICH ㅡ Your husband seems to have change for the better. Although is it really him? Or somebody else masquerading as your husband ❞

A/N : Unofficial comeback hihi !! I made this in 3 hours please don't judge my word vomit

T/W : bad relationship, mentioned of murder, not edited, yandere theme, twist at the end

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[name] sighed for ninth time of the day, everything is going horribly for them.

Early this morning, they had accidentally burnt the breakfast they were cooking for you and their husband, Mauve. He did not take kindly to it and yelled at them before leaving for his work.

It only worsen as they had forgotten their lunch and had to work on an empty stomach while their less than pleasant boss chewed them up for their failing performances.

Then, their car broke down and had to be towed away while they went home on a cab with the world most unpleasant driver ever.

It felt as if the world was against them. Pinning them against the corner like a bully demanding for their lunch money.

Now, they sat at the dinner table staring at the food that's slowly growing colder as they waited for Mauve to come home. As the clock struck 10 and their husband was still not home, [name] sighed once more before cleaning up the table.

Despite their very best effort to avoid addressing the glaring issue of their crumbling marriage, [name] couldn't ignore it anymore.

Mauve and them hardly resembled a married couple, they don't spend time with each other due to clashing schedule and even if they were free, they'd much rather be alone than with each other. The two of them would bicker and argue over unnecessary stuff, don't even mention being physically intimate with each other. They're practically practicing abstinence.

[name] has been the only party making effort to keep the relationship going but Mauve was not doing the same.

It is clear as day that the spark and love they have had simply dried up.

" I should just divorce him at this point .. " [name] muttered before falling into a deep slumber.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

The next morning, they awoke to a delicious aroma coming from the kitchen. [name] sat up in surprise at the smell and walking to the source of the wonderful aroma.

To their surprise for the second time, they sees Mauve flipping pancakes in his suit and ties. Upon hearing their approaching footsteps, Mauve turned over and greetes them with a smile.

" Good morning honeybun, I made pancakes for breakfast. Come take a seat " He plated the freshly made pancakes and placing it on the table.

Huh? Honeybun? Where did that come from?

[name] were puzzled at Mauve's odd behaviour. He glanced at them worriedly when he realised they had not yet taken a seat and had been standing at the doorway with a gaping mouth.

" What's wrong honeybun? Why are you standing there like you've seen a ghost " Mauve placed a gentle hand on their shoulder.

" Whㅡ what's the special occasion, Mauve? " they dumbly said.

" Hm? Don't I always makes us breakfast everyday? " He said, albeit a bit confused.

[name] blinked. Once. Twice.

" No? I'd always do the cooking " They replied with an equally confused face.

Mauve went silent before rubbing the back of his neck nervously with a sheepish smile.

" Ah, I don't? I was just messing with you honeybun~ "

They squinted their eyes at their ' husband ', feeling suspicious of his change of behaviour. Just yesterday he was yelling at them for burning his toast and today he's done a complete 180.

" You don't usually call me petnames either. What is up with you today? " They sat down on the chair and begun cutting up the pancakes.

Mauve closed his mouth once again and stayed silent, [name] could almost hear the cogwheels in his brain turning to form a response. After a while, he finally spoke with a deep sigh.

" Look. [name], baby. I've realised all these years I've been a dick to you and not treating your right " His voice quivered.

" Yesterday, I had an epiphany of sort and I don't want to lose someone as amazing as you, [name]. Will you give me a second chance in loving you? " He held their hand in a gentle grasp, his eyes reflecting his sincerity.

[name] was at a loss for word. They genuinely didn't expect to hear that from their husband. They were ashamed of the tiny flame that sparked within them at his words.

They were conflicted, however after contemplating for some time in their head. They finally made up their mind. [name] placed their own hand atop of Mauve's and gave him a gentle smile.

" I honestly don't know what happened to you yesterday but .. I'm willing to give us a second try to make it work " They said softly.

A grin broke out on Mauve's faceㅡ something they had not seen in years. He then pull them into an embrace and littered kisses all over their faces.

" Thank you, baby. Thank you so much " He happiky hummed onto their skin.

[name] couldn't help but grew flustered at his onslaught of affection. They were not used to it but it wasn't unwelcomed. They slowly reciprocated Mauve's hug and buried their face onto his shoulder.

Finally, something's going right for them.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

He almost felt bad for fooling [name] on thinking that their pathetic excuse of a husband could ever change.

For someone as successful as Mauve was, he is incredibly stupid for neglecting the most amazing spouse a person could ever wish for. Honestly, he felt his blood boils seeing [name]'s astonished reaction to him performing simple husbandry dutiesㅡ it shows that the bastard never treats his spouse right.

It disgust him greatly to be Mauve's döppleganger, to share the same likeness as him. But without it, he wouldn't be able to intervene and replaces him.

Nonetheless, he'd already removed Mauve's out of the picture. If there's one thing he doesn't regret is watching the light slowly dimmed from Mauve's eyes as he kills him.

Now, he shall fulfill his position as [name]'s husband, 'Mauve'.

THE END˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

#tw: yandere #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #gender neutral reader #yandere male #yandere headcanons

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

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I was thinking and wondering about how 141 and könig would react if their s/o started breaking down whenever they dropped a plate or fucked up in some way like leaving something on the stove and their s/o completely breaks down. Apologizing and crying and saying “pls don’t be mad at me” stuff like that.

Or reader accidentally says “ok” I’m a kinda of snippy voice and they genuinely didn’t hear reader, and say “what?” And reader responds with “yes sir” or some shit like that as a trauma response? Srry if this is confusing lol

If this makes you uncomfortable pls ignore

Hey there! I can do this, no problem.

141 + König Reacting To Reader Having A Breakdown From Past Trauma

Warnings: mentions of past trauma, abuse, crying, feelings of unworthiness, swearing - ENDS IN FLUFF!!!

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

Simon Ghost Riley-

Nothing was going your way today. You spilled coffee on yourself first thing this morning, stepped in a muddy puddle with your brand new shoes, and your boss was in a horrible mood, and you were his target.

You made it home later that night, and it took everything in you not to break down. Simon would be home soon, and you knew he'd be hungry, so you mustered what energy you could to head to the kitchen and start cooking.

"Hey babe, I'm home." You heard Simon's voice call from the front door.

"Hey, dinner is ready." You turned a bit too quickly to greet your husband, and the plate of food in your hands slid from your grasp, smashing to the floor.

You both stood there for a moment, staring at the mess on the floor, before you let out a choked sob.

Simon quickly threw his gear to the floor and carefully made his way around the broken shards to you. "Baby, what's wrong? It's okay. We can clean it."

"Please don't be mad at me, Simon." You sobbed into his chest. "I didn't mean to it, it slipped."

Simon's eyes widened as he looked down at you, grasping your cheeks in his hands softly. "Sweetheart, why would I be mad at you? It was an accident."

"Because I broke the plate! And you were probably hungry, and now dinner is ruined, and I'm a terrible spouse." Your brain was going a mile a minute as the word vomit continued to pour out. "I'm so sorry, Simon. I'll be better."

Simon pulled you back into his chest as he tore through the thoughts in his head. Why were you so upset? It was just a plate. You two could order takeout? What kind of person would be mad over....oh. A lightbulb went off in Simon's head as he looked down at you.

"Y/N, sweetheart, look at me."

You slowly peeled your head from his chest as you looked up at him, your eyes puffy and red from crying.

Simon rubbed his thumbs along your cheeks gently before he spoke. "I'm not him. And you are a wonderful spouse. I couldn't have asked for anyone better to be by my side every day. I don't give a damn if you dropped a plate. We are all human, kid."

You let out another sob, your bottom lip quivering as you took in his words. It was known, Simon was a man of few words, but he always, always knew what to say to help you in the moment.

"I love you, Y/N, always. I'm always going to be here for you, and I promise you, I'm never going to get mad about trivial shit like this. You're okay."

Simon stayed holding you for some time, rubbing soothing circles in your back as you started to calm down. "Why don't we order some takeout, yeah? My treat."

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

You and Johnny had just finished up dinner, and he was currently finishing up the dishes as you got the show you two were binging ready on the TV.

"Do you want any popcorn or anything babe?" He asked as he placed the last dish in the cupboard.

"Nah, only you and a buttload of cuddles." You said, turning to him with a warm smile.

Johnny leaned back, admiring you, as his hands rested on the stove behind him.

"FUCK!" He cried out, as there was a searing pain emitting from his hand. "Is the stove still on?"

You jumped up from your spot on the couch, alarmed at Johnny's cry of pain, and you went white as you realized you'd forgotten to turn the stove off after cooking dinner.

"Oh my God, Johnny. I'm so sorry." You mumbled, your heart beginning to race as you made your way over to your boyfriend slowly.

"Shite, that fucking hurts." Johnny waived his hand in the air, trying to shake away some of the pain, not realizing his quick movements had you hunched down in the corner, your arms over your head defensively.

"Y/N?" He asked, the pain in his hand long forgotten. "Baby, did you..did you think I was going to hit you?"

"I...I... I'm sorry, Johnny. I didn't mean to, I forgot I thought I turned it off." You cried out, tears now falling down your cheeks, your hands shaking violently.

"Did that..did that fucker hurt you?" Johnny began to put the pieces together in his brain. Before him, you were in a relationship with a man who liked to hurt you whenever you made a mistake.

You gave a small nod, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to prevent a small sob from escaping. Johnny slowly moved to sit on the floor next to to, and grabbed your hands gently.

"Y/N, I will never, and I mean never lay a finger on you like that. Any man who does has no right to be called a man. I am so sorry you went through that." Johnny rubbed soothing circles into your wrists as his eyes stared lovingly into yours. "Don't worry about the stove being left on. It happens. I do shit like that all the time. Plus, I've gotten way worse burns than this, this is child's play."

You let out a soft chuckle as you exhaled deeply. "I love you, Johnny. Thank you. Let me at least grab the burn cream for you."

"I love you too, babe." He have you a warm smile as you walked over to the medicine cabinet and watched as you fumbled with the contents.

Johnny made a silent promise to himself that day, that if he ever saw your ex, he'd teach him a lesson of his own.

John Price-

"Hey, have you seen my white dress shirt? It's not in my closet." John asked, as he rummaged through your shared room. He had a gala tonight he was supposed to attend, and he couldn't find his favorite white shirt.

"Oh! I washed it, I knew you wanted to wear it, let me go grab it from the dryer." You called back, making your way to your laundry room.

You rummaged through the dryer, trying to find his shirt, and your heart dropped when you saw it. You pulled it out, revealing a giant ink stain on the front, and looked over to find a pen that had gone through the dryer along with it.

Your hand flew to your mouth as you let out a muffled sob. "No, no, no."

"Were you able to find it? I appriciate you washing-" John's voice was cut short as he took in the scene in front of him. "Is that my shirt?"

"John...I... I didn't know that it was..there was a pen." You started rambling, your voice trembling with each word.

John took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he took in your state. "It's alright, love."

"No! No you're mad, I fucked up and now you're mad. I'm so sorry. I didn't know there was a pen, and..and.. please don't hate me." You sobbed, falling to your knees, your hands flying to your face.

John felt his heart shatter as he watched you crumble to the floor. He was very aware of the past you had with your family, a family that allowed for very few mistakes, and one that would punish you for any said mistakes.

"Y/N. Baby. It's okay." John crouched down beside you, pulling you into his lap. "I've got you, it's alright."

You choked out a sob as you threw your face into his chest, staining his shirt with your tears. "No, no, it's not. This was your favorite shirt and I fucked it up."

"Love, I was the one who left that pen in my pants. It's my fault, not yours. I promise you, honey, I'm not mad." He rubbed at your arms soothingly as he pressed kisses to your forehead.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as you continued to clutch onto your husband's arms. "I should've looked, still. I'll buy you a new one."

"Aye, screw the shirt. I'm kind of glad it's ruined. I didn't want to go to that silly dress up party anyway. I'd much rather stay here with you."

"Really?" You asked, wiping away your tears.

"Really. I don't need some to be at some party with stuffy stuck-up pricks when I can be here with my pretty little partner. I'm gonna go order us some takeout. What do you say we get our pjs on and watch a movie, yeah?"

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

"Hey, babe. Can you keep me alive in this game for like 5 minutes? I have to go run to the bathroom, I can't pause it." Kyle called out.

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'm not very good at those kinds of games but I can try." You gave him a sheepish smile as you walked over to him.

"It should be super easy. Just walk anywhere, but where the guys with red bars over their heads are. Those are the enemies." Kyle said, before placing a kiss on your head. "I'll be super quick, I promise."

You swallowed thickly as Kyle walked away, your hands shaking slightly as you held onto the controller.

You managed to do pretty well at first, avoiding all of the enemies that were wandering around you. Luck, however, was not on your side for long.

An enemy came out of nowhere as you were pacing back and forth in one of the corners of the map and managed to kill you with one hit.

"Thanks for watching it, babe. I hate how I can't save my progress in -" Kyle stopped mid sentence as he saw the "YOU DIED" message flicker across the TV screen.

"Kyle, I'm so sorry. He...he came out of nowhere, and I.. it was one hit, and there wasn't anything I could do." You started to hyperventilate, your breathing increasing rapidly as tears brimmed in the corner of your eyes. "I was doing well, and I didn't see him I.. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, hey, it's okay!" Kyle was quick to come over to you, taking the controller from your hands. "I'm not mad, baby."

"But you losy your progress and I fucked up, and now you hate me." Your thoughts were racing through your head faster than you could process, and you threw your face into your hands as you let out a sob.

"Y/N. Baby. I promise you, I couldn't ever hate you. It's a stupid video game. It's okay. You're safe. You're with me, not him." Kyle gently pulled you into his lap as he began to press kisses to your hair. "It's okay, sweetheart. Besides, it gives me a chance to go back and loot better shit anyway."

You looked up to him through your bleary eyes, and gave a wobbly smile. "I don't deserve you, Kyle Garrick."

"Bugger off with that, love. If anyone doesn't deserve anyone, it's me who doesn't deserve you."

König-

You and König were cleaning up in the weapons/gear locker at the end of a brutal mission. The two of you moved in slow motion around the room, removing your gear and laying down your weapons to be cleaned.

"Maus, can you help me get this vest off? I can't seem to get the buckle." Königs voice shook you from your thoughts, and you turned to help your lover.

The strap of the vest seemed to be stuck, so you gave it a little tug. You evidently had put too much pressure, and it caused you to tear a hole in the fabric, leaving the strap useless.

Your mouth flew open, and you quickly ran over to grab one of the sewing kits on the table. You returned to him, and immediately started to thread at the fabric.

"Hey, hey, it's fine. It's just a tear. We can look at it later." König said, trying to grab at your frenzied hands.

"NO! No, I have to fix it!" You shoved him away as you continued to stitch at the torn fabric of his vest. "I have to fix it."

König watched helplessly as tears began to stream down your face, unable to do anything to console you.

He knew of your past boyfriend and how weak he made you feel. Any mistake you made would end with you being on the end of either physical, or mental abuse, and it made Königs blood boil thinking that anyone could harm someone like you.

"Maus." His voice was firm, catching your attention immediately. "Stop, please."

Your bottom lip wobbled, a whimper barely escaping your lips as you looked up at him. "But I ruined it."

"I don't care about the vest, schatz, it's military issued I can get another." He said gently, as he pulled your hands away from the vest. "I just need you to be okay."

"I'm..okay. Please don't me mad at me." You cried softly, looking back to the vest.

"I couldn't ever be mad at you for something like this. I'm not, and will not ever be like him, okay? You're alright, I promise you." His hands dropped yours and landed on the back of your neck, as he turned your head back to him.

"Tell me you're okay." He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"I'm okay." You repeated, your eyes fluttering shut.

"Tell me you're safe." Another kiss was pressed to your cheek.

"I'm safe."

"Tell me you're loved." A kiss was placed to your forehead.

"I am loved." You repeated once more as a final kiss was placed to your lips. König had started this "mantra" of sorts one of the very first panic attacks you had with him, and it had become a comfort for you ever since. He was always the best at calming you down.

"You are so beautiful, Maus. I love you so much. Let's get the rest of this gear off and go to sleep, alright? I've got you."

And he did, he always had you. He'd never, in his life, ever let you feel like you were anything less than wonderful.

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

A/N: thanks for reading!

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doobea · 9 months

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I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK - RIN ITOSHI

synopsis: You're a famous online smut author, married to an international superstar athlete, and everyone around you thinks you have the perfect sex life. What they don't realize is Rin sleeps in the guest room and you're still very much a virgin.

contents: fem!reader, explicit content, they do basically everything BUT seggs (oral male and female receiving, sexting, fingering), extreme word vomit and narration in the beginning, characters are all in their mid/late-20s, romcom, honestly they're figuring themselves out, mdni word count: 4K a/n: honestly, idk why the word count keeps increasing everytime but i tried to make this as fluffy and emotional as possible?? please have respectful eyes and thoughts when reading :3c - again if u wanna be added to the taglist just comment below hehe

三 : Baby, my room is the G spot -> prev. -> next.

You've spent the past few weeks mulling over your "passion project"; spending the majority of your days writing till late as three in the morning, back slouched and brain caffeinated, convincing yourself that each paragraph written was perfect. But recently you've found yourself hating every word, every sentence, and every character development point that you've produced. If it wasn't for the fact that you've poured over 30,000 words into the novel you would've scrapped everything and started over. Something felt off.

You groan, kicking your legs underneath your office desk and slumping over in your chair. The words on the screen didn't even look like words anymore. You can't count how many times you've rewritten the same paragraph. Writer's block is killing you and you blame it on your husband.

It's been exactly three days since the dressing room incident and, unlike grown adults, you both decided it was best to sweep it under the rug. There was a small window of opportunity to speak about it but it didn't help that minutes later the store manager put two and two together and implemented a lifetime ban against you and Rin. Needless to say, the drive home was dead silent. But at least you received the clothes for free!

Of course, a million questions ran through your head, trying to piece together what even caused Rin to do that. The most far you've gotten with him was limited to heavy make-out sessions, and even those are a rare occurrence. Your not-so-obvious plan of trying to seduce him worked (it was Shidou's idea), so why do you feel like you're back to square one?

The messaging app on your laptop hops up and down before its jarring ringtone blasts through the speakers. You click 'accept' when you see the names of your familiar penpals pop in the middle of the screen and enter the call seeing eerie smiles coming from everyone.

"So," Bachira sings, eyes gleaming with intensity, "how did it go?"

So much for “hello”.

A soft blush creeps its way to your cheeks and it doesn't go unnoticed by your friends. A chorus of 'oohs' and 'aahs' follow suit and you feel even more naked than you were days ago.

"It went well, like super well." You meekly recall the explicit events that occurred in the dressing room, stumbling over the details as you remember your husband's careful movements against your skin and lower regions.

The four men sit up straight, whispering to each other with wide eyes 'See? I told you so!' and Shidou proudly puffs out his chest at his genius plotting.

"But," And this is where everyone stops in their tracks and tenses, "we still slept in separate beds afterwards."

Betrayal and disgust are written on their faces.

Hell breaks loose as the men raise their voices at the same time, a series of fake cries and spurs of curse words that you haven't heard before leak from the device. You hastily connect your Bluetooth headphones to your laptop to hopefully drown out the sounds since Rin is still very much at home - just in the other room.

"Guys," Your voice strains, "everything will be okay." The reassurance is more for yourself than for anyone else on the call.

"I just wanna know what your husband is thinking." Chigiri presses his lips together in a tight line.

"He's bold enough to finger fuck you in a dressing room but doesn't have the balls to just sleep in the same bedroom?" Shidou scoffs.

Hiori raises a hand to interject while wearing an uneasy expression, "You ever think there's something that happened in his past that's causing him to avoid certain amounts of intimacy?"

You draw in a deep breath before shaking your head, "Honestly, I'm not sure if there's much on his past and we've always danced around the topic." More like Rin would always try and excuse himself from the conversation during the few times that it did happen. You've assumed the number of partners is probably more than the average person, given the fact that he's a popular athlete and gives off 'male lead' energy in a drama.

"Here's a wild thought to consider!" Bachira shares his screen, and the contents of a poorly drawn-out graphic bearing the colorful words 'TOP THINGS TO DO TO SEDUCE A VIRGIN' pops up. There is a step-by-step guide with weirdly in-depth descriptions for each point. The points labeled 'force them to share a bed' and 'lingerie' were scribbled out while being accompanied by a sad face.

"What am I looking at exactly?" You blank at the screen, ignoring the suppressed giggling fits coming from Shidou and Chigiri in the background.

Hiori clears his throat, "We were all thinking that maybe your husband is also a virgin." The jarring statement causes you to choke on your saliva but he continues on, "It's clear that he cares about you from what you've told us, and maybe the dressing room incident caused him to have some sort of confidence in his performance? We believe he's just shy and is waiting for you to initiate the process."

Chigiri nods in agreement, "And given that he's avoidant talking about his past relationships, it could mean he just doesn't have any partners and assumes that you probably had plenty."

"But why would he even assume that?"

"Because," Shidou launches himself close to the camera, "you're literally a smut master. You don't think he's looked up your shit even once?"

You open your mouth, trying to fish the right words to respond, and nothing comes out. You find your legs bouncing rapidly against the hardwood floor and gnaw at the bit of flesh in your mouth, a sudden surge of a mix of anxiety and excitement bursting through your veins. "This—I don't think makes sense." Except, you think, it does. It 100% does make sense and you want to hit yourself on the head for not catching it earlier.

Bachira lets out a long whimsical sigh and zooms in to the top of the graphic, enhancing the words 'SEND HIM NUDES, "You can start with this and," he scrolls down to the next bullet point, "follow up with my favorite foreplay: sexting!"

Subconsciously, you find yourself reaching for the phone, staring hard at the background photo of you and Rin on one of your earlier date nights. The photo had poor lighting quality due to the only source being his small apartment TV at the time. The two of you were seated against the couch cushions on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest and his arm awkwardly wrapped around your shoulder. It was your first couple's photo together after a long movie marathon. A shitty but precious photo nonetheless. You find yourself thinking, maybe the third time is the charm?

Rin shuts his laptop after another hour-long session with Anri, feeling everything but relaxed. He didn't go into much detail on what happened, fearing both judgment from his therapist and recognition of the lack of communication skills - so he lies. He didn't care if Anri was able to sense it, Rin knows he's a bad liar, but he also knows that he probably shouldn't be venting with a distracted mind.

He tosses his headphones to his side and lays down on the bed, limbs sprawling out in all directions to try and release some of the tension in his body. Ever since what occurred three days ago, he's been struggling to act like his usual self. His kicks have been sloppy, rushed, and just filled god awful accuracy. The meals that he tried to cook himself right afterward always end up tasting burnt for being on the stove a minute too long. And you? Rin remembers you asking if you had wanted to talk about it shortly after but he was quick to decline. A bit too quickly. He knows he should've started the conversation but restless thoughts of insecurity clouded his judgment.

What if you secretly hated it? What if you faked your orgasm? Will anything that he'll do live up to your prior experiences?

He shudders at the thoughts before snapping back up from the mattress. Rin needs to relieve this stress build-up by doing the only thing he knows best and starts packing his gym bag for the training grounds.

When he pokes his head out, he vaguely overhears muffled voices along with your fingers rapidly typing away at your keyboard, and exhales. You're still busy in your weekly meeting and that means he can have plenty of alone time if he doesn't bump into his teammates during after-hours. Rin quickly fills up his water bottle, throwing in a couple of ice cubes, then dips.

Luck is finally on his side as Rin steps onto the open turf field with no one in sight. He lets out a deep sigh, throws down his bag, and dives deep into his routine work. His mind goes numb an hour in after scoring against the dummy goalie for the nth time, his accuracy returning at a steady pace, and finally decides to take a quick water break. Just as he finishes relacing his cleats, a familiar buzzing sound catches his ears, glancing down to see your text.

my love "are you alone right now?"

He pauses and stares. For some reason, he feels like this is a test and hesitates an answer. Are you in a bad mood? Are you asking to have a long-winded phone call over the incident? Rin's shaky fingers hover over the phone's keyboard and, before he has the chance to say anything, you send over the next message.

The first thing he sees is 'IMAGE RECIEVED' and the second thing he sees is a pair of breasts. Your breasts. It's a faceless photo but he recognizes the white lacey outfit from the boutique. You had one of your arms pressed under your breasts to elevate them for extra volume and your thighs were spread open just enough for your folds to slip through. Rising temperatures and aches soon force their way down to his stomach and growing length.

Even though Rin knew he was alone, he snaps his neck side to side just to make sure before replying.

Rin "looks nice"

He immediately regrets it. It's not like he plays nonchalance very well, either way. Rin is fast to recall back to the erotic novels he's read and pulls together a message that is more fitting and elegant in his eyes.

Rin "do you want me to come back?"

You're quick to respond back and he grimaces.

my love "no."

But you continue to his surprise.

my love "but if you're alone do you mind touching yourself?"

Rin inhales a sharp breath and palms his evident aching length through his shorts, it's burning to the touch. He's confident that there aren't any cameras that are still on, there was no point if everyone else went home for the day, right? Rin finds a comfortable corner in the arena and presses his back flush against the cold wall, pulling out the camera app on his phone. He adjusts the position so that his lower abs are in frame and tug down his waistband enough for his head to poke out, already wet and raging red from precum, and snaps the picture over.

my love "oh wow wait you're at practice rn?" Rin "don't worry too much, im the only one here" "do you want to see more?"

There's a moment in pause and Rin thinks maybe he's overstepped his place as he watches the text bubbles reappear and disappear soon after the other. But soon you return with his message with more than what he can bite.

my love "dont finish just yet! come back when you're done with training and let's have a talk." ATTACHMENT: 1 IMAGE

And it's a photo of your ass.

On instinct, his fingers brush over his sensitive head and he bites down his lips to contain a threatening moan from escaping. As much as Rin would love to pleasure himself shamefully on work grounds, curiosity, and some sense of morals, crawl back to his senses.

Rin "be back in 15"

With a quick toss of his water bottle and ruffling for his car keys, RIn has never driven home at lightning speed till now.

You find yourself pacing back and forth in your bedroom, heart hammering against your chest as you fiddle with the lace hanging from your bodysuit as a failed attempt to calm your nerves. A part of you wants to thank your friends for their suggestions and another part of you wants to hide underneath covers because you still can't process that this might be finally happening.

Sounds of keys jingling by the front door halts your movements and you could hear your husband frantically tossing his shoes and bag on the floor - an uncharacteristic trait for someone neat like Rin. Before you get the chance of covering up in any way, the athlete rushes into your room, seemingly a bit out of breath. His usual teal eyes now have a familiar dark overcast over them, similar to how he looked in the dressing room days ago.

You press your thighs together, shyly averting your gaze from the male, and cough, "I think we both need to confess something so I'll go first. I want us to explore more intimately but I want you to know that you're going to be my first for essentially everything." You make an anguished noise, flush, and look away. Rin doesn’t press it, but the silence falls over, and it's a heavy one.

You hear him let out a small, but audible, gasp of sorts. Then some shuffling. Then a soft plop. You look up and Rin is sitting on your bed, patting the spot next to him and shooting you a gentle smile. Pressure that you didn't even realize you had is released from your body as you sit down, immediately reaching out to interlace your fingers with his. You sink your head against his broad shoulder.

"You're my first for everything too," Rin admits followed by a hushed sigh, his cheeks tinted red, and it looks like he's going to either laugh or cry, you can't tell but, from the moonlight shining through the windows, you can at least see that he isn't terrified. "So let's take care of each other, okay?" And gives your hand a tight squeeze.

Rin reaches over and tugs you to straddle in his lap. It's not awkward, almost easy, and you follow the eager voices chanting in your head as you lean back between your husband's firm thighs. Arms loop around his neck and your eyes lock, meeting his dark and seemingly naive ones. There is enough natural light flowing in that you can count each individual eyelash, notice the small movements in his pupils as he searches for permission, how his lips tweak from both nervousness and hunger, and that his skin is essentially flawless.

You take the initiative and the kisses that you leave on his collarbones are enthusiastic, needy, and messy - more displaced saliva than anything else. But neither of you cares enough. Rin lets out the slightest of moans and his hands find their way to your thighs, thumbs pressing down hard that leaves you wondering if there's a chance for bruises tomorrow.

His grip on you tightens when your lips hover over his flushed ears. You decide to play with this discovery and drag your teeth over his right ear lobe, almost moaning in response to the noise that escaped from Rin's mouth.

"I didn't realize that you have sensitive ears." You continue to playfully nibble his lobes, managing another groan from the male.

"Don't push it." Rin breathes out before pressing one of his thumbs against your covered folds, humming in contentment when he realizes that it's completely soaked. As he circles around your heat, he hears his name slipping through your plumped lips, a distinctive whine that makes his cock twitch. "Let me try something real quick."

He sets you aside and gets up, desperately tossing his sweat-covered t-shirt and unbearable sweats from his warming skin. All clothes from his body are stripped and forgotten on the bedroom floor as he stands fully exposed and watches your flustered figure with nothing but instincts taking over.

Rin lays fully down on the mattress and motions you to climb on top, ass facing him. If your face wasn't red before, it sure is red now after putting the indications together. "Come here, let me make you feel good." His voice is coated with needy intoxication and you obediently follow his commands.

You carefully hover your lower half over his face and lay face to face with his twitching head, mind racing as you try and figure out how exactly are you going to fit him in your mouth. It should be a crime to be this dangerously attractive and pair it with something so big. Before you get the chance to grasp his length, your body jolts and a shriek escapes your lips. Looking over your shoulder, you see Rin spreading your warmth apart with a smirk etched onto his face.

"Relax," is all he says, pulling down your thighs, and your mesh-covered mound meets with his impatient tongue flicking and drinking your soiled leakage.

You let your mind blissfully go blank and struggle to not grind your hips against his nose. Your ragged breathing hangs over his leaking tip and it twitches angrily in response. Finding your strength, you curl your hand around his throbbing erection, giving it a few experimental strokes, immediately taken aback by how firm a penis can be.

"A bit looser, love." Rin hisses out between your legs, his mouth now covered in a mixture of your fluids and his drool. He's fighting a war in his head, debating whether to stop to look at your cute attempt to swallow him whole or continue to ravage your dripping folds. The second option sounds infinitely more appealing, he thinks.

You mumble out a drunken apology and adjust your grip. After a few strokes and vibrations of him groaning against your lower half, you finally find the courage to consume his impressive size. Your lips wrap itself around his head and Rin is doing everything that he can to not shove the entirety of his cock down your hot, welcoming tunnel. The combination of your crazed moans and juices are like honey in his throat and it drives him insane. The swirling from your tongue around his tip and your bobbing head movements send his hands to grasp each side of your ass, he whines and kneads against the soft fat.

"Fuck," Rin knows he shouldn't buck his hips into you, especially since you look like you're still struggling with his length, but it feels too good for it to go unnoticed. "Don't stop, do that again."

You let out a hum against his head in response, sending static shock to his legs, and repeat the process again. Rin chooses not to hold back his moans, not when you're both figuring out each other's bodies for the first time, and he allows the heavy fog in his vision to swallow him whole. His fingers dig deep into the flesh of your ass and grinds your hips back and forth on his mouth, making sure that your hood rubs against the tip of his nose for added pleasure. A minute passes and Rin feels the pressure building faster than he can even warn you.

"Baby, I—" He gasps out, the knot quickly comes undone in his stomach and unintentionally releases in multiple spurts into your mouth. Rin feels you choke in response, and knows that the load is way more than what he usually produces. His head rolls deep into the pillow and cries out a moan when you attempt to swallow with his overly sensitive cock still between your lips.

You pop his wet length from your now sore jaw and laugh weakly, "So that's what semen tastes like."

Rin grunts and proceeds to flip your body onto the bed, earning a loud yelp from you, "Still need to finish you off." He slips between your legs, resting his mouth on top of your wet mound, and sucks off the remaining slick through the mesh fabric. You almost clamp your thighs together from the sensitivity but his arms stop your actions.

Your hands grab at the bedsheets, knuckles turning white from the obvious burning sensation slowly building up in your stomach as his mouth makes its way over to focus solely on your itching nub. You feel him tugging the fabric to the side and you immediately release a loud mew, curling your back against the mattress when his fingers feel their way inside your mushy entrance and pumping in all the right angles from before.

Encouraged by your response, he speeds up his pace and feels your tightness form as you writhe under his touch. Rin soon notices that your body has gotten too tense, knowing the struggle that you've caught yourself in as tears threaten to escape from your eyes. He pauses his fingers inside and coos, "I want you to look at me as you cum. Can you cum for me?"

You say nothing but your insides couldn't help but to pulse against his fingers after hearing his daring words. He takes that as approval and resumes his speed, mouth latching back to its original position but this time his half-lidded eyes don't falter from yours. Hands fly to tear skin at the broad shoulders beneath as you breathe out his name in ecstasy. Soon you're scrambling against him, lifting your hips from the wet mattress over his fingertips and face, wanting more, and Rin realizes that you're stumbling through a messy, hard-fought orgasm that he's completely responsible for causing. The juices spilling from your sobbing canal leaves him fuzzy and ransacked as he struggles to consume them.

He gets up, wipes his slick-covered mouth, and watches your chest heave from a mix of exhaustion and pleasure, "I'll be right back."

Your vision is blurry, to say the least, but you make out the subtle lighting turning on in the background, the sounds of a faucet running, and then the touch of your gentle husband as he makes brief dabs with a towel against your nether regions. You groan at the contact.

"Does it hurt?"

You shake your head, voice barely there, "Just a bit sore, it was really intense."

A chuckle rolls off his lips that send flutters to your already pounding chest. Rin feels his lips twist into a smile that matches yours, unable to fight off the feelings of warm affection that bloom deep in him as you stare deep into his gaze. He bends down, planting a chaste kiss on your sweat-ridden forehead while undoing the strings of the laced bodysuit. "I'm sorry, let's get you out of this thing and clean up, okay?"

You run your body under the rush of the warm water in the shower, cheeks flushed and mind still processing the fresh events. A negative creeping thought gnaws against your skull, saying that maybe he'll sleep in his room again but that dissipates when you hear him entering the bathroom. You see your naked husband looking at the ground through the translucent curtains, almost in a shy manner, completely forgetting the fact that he dominated you just moments ago, and whispers, "Do you mind if I join you?"

It's your turn to laugh this time, "The shower you mean? Yea, you can."

"Mhm," He brushes the curtains away and steps behind you, hands grabbing your waist and pulling your bodies closer, "I meant for the night."

Suddenly, you find yourself smiling wide, it was infectious and silly, like you had just won a prize at the carnival fair. You melt against his chest and peer up into his sharp teal eyes, "Thought you'd never ask."

TAGLIST

@wtfsaekyuny , @jukey , @broeagleblog , @freakingdinonuggies , @damutaaa , @idk-bro-gay , @saharei , @yesurmajesty , @vvi-site , @saeswifeeeeee , @marilover69 , @izayumi-chan , @whostakara , @talleythesimp , @short-black-diamond ,@certaindreampost , @solellmn , @crnnbrry-blog , @itoshiexx , @punkhazardlaw , @jinedia , @mandapanda16 , @erintaro , @tamimemo , @comet-kun , @shinha , @milktkags , @benignnotions , @dinosaursraur , @karmatiz , @vernorexiaaa , @iloveblogging2 , @peachcobblerinmymumsbasement , @keiitsune , @talleythereader , @redqueensmutt, @blissblossom

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #doobea writing #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock smut #itoshi rin smut #rin itoshi smut #bllk smut #i can make your bed rock - rin itoshi #guys seggs is gonna be in the final chap who is excited #not me bc im the one who has to write it but #im feeding yall - a whole army #so i can take some pride in that

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justmystyles · 3 months

Text

The Morning After

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 2,583

trigger warning: vomiting

summary: the morning after Harry's 30th birthday, you're hungover and Harry reminds you of your drunken actions from the night before, leading to a conversation you never expected.

a/n: i missed Harry's birthday, but I got this idea for a morning after fic, so here we are. i've been writing a few things behind the scenes, and I know i've said a few times that I was going to try to come back, but this time i mean it. i'm working on a couple of one shots, and a new series that i'm very excited about, so hopefully you'll hear more from me soon!

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You open your eyes and immediately groan in pain as they meet the sunlight shining into your bedroom. You quickly shut them and pull your pillow over your face. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t go too hard last night, but Harry kept wanting to do shots, and who were you to deny the birthday boy?

It was your best friend, Harry’s 30th birthday party, and he spared no expense. The room was packed with his closest family and friends, including a long list of famous faces. There was loud music, dancing, tons of food, and of course, alcohol. As with most parties, Harry barely let you out of his sight, and any time a tray of shots went past him he’d grab one for each of you. You lost count after a while, and truthfully, you aren’t really sure how you ended up at home and in your bed. You assumed Harry had something to do with it. You rarely got drunk, but when you did Harry was always very protective and caring, even if he was two sheets to the wind himself.

The ringing of your doorbell, followed by the incessant knocking at your door feel like a thousand nails being hammered into your head. You groan, but know it isn’t going to stop until you answer the door. You throw your legs over the side of your bed and sit still for a moment, working up the energy to stand and walk to the front door. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a full glass of water and a couple of aspirin, sitting on top of the note:

For the lightweight in my life.

A small smile plays on your lips at the note, combined with the thoughtfulness of your best friend. You take the pills and drink the entire glass of water before standing and making your way to the front door. You are immediately met with Harry’s infuriatingly handsome face, a wide grin plastered across it as if last night never happened.

“Took you long enough.” He says in a bright, teasing tone. You immediately bring your hand to your forehead, the voice that usually causes butterflies in your stomach piercing right through your brain. “Rough night?” He asks knowingly.

You flip him off before stepping aside to let him in. “How can you possibly be this okay right now?” You ask in disbelief as you shuffle to the couch, collapsing onto your back and resting your arm across your eyes. “I’m not just okay, I’m great!” He lifts your feet up and sits on the couch, placing your legs down in his lap. “I’ve been up for hours, went on a nice run, got some shopping done. It’s been quite a productive day.”

You pull the pillow out from under your head and throw it at him. He catches it with ease and chuckles at your meek sign of aggression.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before you finally speak up. “I’m not going to be a fun hang today, just so you know.”

Harry chuckles and shakes his head. “You never are, why would today be any different?” He jokes. You move your arm away from your eyes and look up at him, narrowing your gaze.

He lets out a loud laugh and holds his hands up defensively. “Just kidding! You know you’re my favorite.” He leans over and boops your nose. A sign of affection the two of you often share.

You smirk and shake your head as it falls back on the couch. “Did you have fun last night?”

“So much fun, the party was amazing!” Harry beams. “I got to see so many people that I hadn’t seen in a while. But you know what my favorite part was?”

You groan in reply, signaling for him to continue, your eyes closed to block the sunlight.

He turns to look at your face, his expression and tone softening. “At the end of the night, when we were saying goodbye to everyone and you kissed me…”

It feels as though time stands still. The nausea and pain from the hangover immediately replaced by panic and shock. You sit up straight and look at him with a furrowed brow. “Kissed… like kissed kissed?”

He grins and nods. “A proper kiss, tongue and everything.”

Your face immediately turns a bright shade of crimson and your eyes go wide. You’d had more than friendly feelings for Harry for a while, but you were certain those feelings would never be returned. He always introduced you to his superstar, super skinny girlfriends, so you always felt your thick thighs and big stomach were far from his type. You’d much rather spend your life hiding your feelings and having him in your life as a friend than to tell him how you feel and end up losing him because those feelings weren’t returned.

“Harry, I am so sorry… I was drunk… I don’t even remember it happening… I…” You panic and begin to ramble out an apology.

“Hey hey hey,” he interrupts you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was glad that you kissed me. It was nice, I felt… wanted.”

You scoff slightly. “You’re one of the most wanted men in the world, you don’t need a sloppy drunk kiss for that.”

“But I liked feeling wanted by you. You didn’t want Harry Styles, famous pop star. You wanted me, just regular Harry.”

“Just regular Harry is my favorite person.” You say in a soft, caring tone.

“I know he is, that’s why I enjoyed that kiss so much. And it got me wondering…” He trails off, thinking of the best way to bring up what he wants to say. “They often say people are their most honest selves when they’re drunk, so I was wondering if that kiss meant anything to you? Like if maybe you were thinking of me as more than just a friend…”

Your hangover mixed with the anxiety of being called out for your secret feelings causes your nausea to return. You immediately start stuttering. “What? I… you’re my best friend! We aren’t… I don’t…”

Harry reaches out, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Shhh, it’s okay. We’re always going to be best friends, I promise.” He assures you, his eyes staring deep into yours. “Do you want to know what I wished for last night when I blew out my candles?”

You shake your head slowly, your mind racing and your stomach churning too much to actually be able to form words.

“The same thing I’ve wished for every birthday since you came into my life. For you to see me as more than your best friend, for you to want me even half as much as I want you.”

Your breath hitches at his words, you study his expression and see love, adoration, vulnerability in his eyes. Before you can respond, you feel the nausea taking over. You push out of Harry’s arms and run to the bathroom, You drop to your knees just in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

Harry is right behind you, kneeling down next to you, pulling your hair back with one hand, and rubbing your back in soothing circles with the other. “Shh, you’re okay Y/N, just let it out. You’ll feel so much better when it’s over.”

When you’re finally finished throwing up you shift so that you;re sitting on the floor, your back resting against the wall. Harry grabs a washcloth and runs it under the water before bringing it to you and dabbing it on your forehead. “You know, you could have just said no. It doesn’t do great things for one’s self esteem to have a girl vomit the moment you declare your love for her.” He says with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

You let out a small, weak chuckle. “Harry, I…” You whisper.

“It’s just a joke, love. Let’s not talk about it right now, let me just take care of you, yeah?” He says kindly, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as you nod in reply. “Good girl, now what do you need?”

“Toothbrush…”

He nods, and places a kiss on your forehead before standing up and getting your toothbrush, he puts a bead of toothpaste on it and kneels back down handing it to you. “Go easy, you don’t want to start anything back up.”

You look at him gratefully as you begin brushing your teeth. He watches on, as he strokes your hair to comfort you.

“Is it weird that I think you look cute when you’re sick?” He asks, looking at you fondly.

You let out a soft chuckle and shake your head as you continue to brush your teeth.

His smile grows at the sound of your laugh. “I love that laugh, I’m glad I was able to get it out of you even when you’re feeling like this.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “I hate that you don’t feel good, but I love being able to take care of you. Especially when you’re so vulnerable like this, it shows how much you trust me, and that means everything to me.”

You look up at him as you brush your teeth, hoping your expression conveys all of the love and gratitude in your heart at that moment. You slowly stand up and make your way to the sink, where you spit and rinse.

Harry is quick to get up and stand beside you, he takes in your blotchy complexion and messy hair, and it’s clear that you’ve still got a long way to go before you’re back to normal. “Still not feeling so great?”

You shake your head. “I told you I wasn’t going to be a good hang…”

Harry chuckles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m having a blast! C’mon, let’s get you back to bed.” He moves to put his arms around you as if he’s going to try to lift you.

“Harry, what are you doing?” You step back from his arms.

“I’m carrying you to bed.” He says, confused. He thought it was pretty clear what he was doing.

“I can walk, it’s fine. Nobody wins if you try to carry me.”

He furrows his brow and tilts his head. “What do you mean, nobody wins?”

You sigh, hating that you have to spell it out for him. “You’re not going to be able to lift me. You’re going to feel bad because you were wrong, and I won’t even be able to gloat about being right because I’ll feel bad about being fat.”

“Hey,” Harry says sternly. “I told you never to say that about yourself.” You had always been self-deprecating, and Harry hated it. He wished you could see yourself the way he did, because he saw you as absolutely perfect and beautiful.

You look down, embarrassed about the slip of the tongue. You had stopped saying it in front of Harry, but you hadn’t stopped believing it, so in your weakened state, you had let it slip my mistake.

Harry slides a finger under your chin and lifts your gaze. “How about this? Let me try, if I can’t carry you to bed, I’ll clean up your whole apartment while you sleep. If I can, you have to cuddle in bed with me all day. Deal?”

You roll your eyes and sigh, knowing he’s not going to let this go. “Fine.”

Harry grins triumphantly and scoops you up with ease, carrying you bridal style down the hall and to your room, where he places you gently on the bed. He tucks you in before moving to the other side and slipping in next to you. “Told you so.” He says smugly.

“Nobody’s ever been able to do that before.” You say in awe.

He smiles and pulls you into him, laying your head on his chest. “I bet I can name three more things nobody else can do for you…” He kisses the top of your head.

“Try me,” you mumble as you snuggle closer to him.

“I can make you laugh when you’re at your worst, I can calm you down when you’re spiraling, and I can make you turn that adorable shade of red when I get flirty with you.” He chuckles.

You sigh and nod your head against his chest, agreeing to all three statements.

He squeezes you a little tighter, one hand coming up to stroke your hair. “And you do all those things for me. That’s why I think we’d be so amazing together. We bring out the best in each other, and provide comfort and support at our worst. I can’t think of anything more important in a relationship.”

I hum thoughtfully, tears welling in my eyes at his words. He’s right, of course you’ve seen it all along, but the fact that he sees it too is overwhelming. I tilt my head and lock eyes with him.

When he sees your watery eyes, his expression drops. “Oh, Y/N I’m sorry if I said too much. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to, I promise. Just don’t cry, okay?” He reaches down to cup your cheek, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.

You shake your head rapidly. “No no no, I just… I never thought I’d hear you say this kind of stuff to me. I agree with you completely.”

Harry’s breath hitches at your words, a wide grin spreads across his face. “Yeah?” You grin back and nod your head. “So you’d be willing to give us a shot… as more than friends?”

“Definitely.” You say without hesitation.

He smiles softly and strokes your cheek with his thumb. “I really want to kiss you, but I’m afraid you’ll throw up again, and my ego can’t take it.” He says lightheartedly.

You giggle softly. “I get it. It’s okay, I feel too gross to kiss anyone right now anyway.”

“What can I do for you right now?”

“Um… I actually think I want to take a shower, but I can do that on my own.”

Harry arches a brow and smirks slyly at you. “You sure I can’t help you?”

You chuckle and slap his chest playfully. “Positive, you perv.”

“Fine, fine… how about this? While you shower, I’ll make you some breakfast, to help your tummy.” He runs his fingers through your hair, wanting nothing more than to take care of you.

You smile and blush. “You don’t have to do that…”

“You’re my girl,” he pauses, letting the gravity of his words sink in, you both smile dreamily at each other. “It’s my job to take care of you.”

“Your girl…” You sigh.

He smiles as he stares down at your dreamy expression. “You alright?”

“Yeah… actually, I’m suddenly feeling much better.”

Harry chuckles, kissing you on the forehead. “Good, well you go shower and I’ll make you a nice breakfast, we’ll get you back to normal in no time.

You roll out of bed and make your way to the door. You throw one more glance over your shoulder, smiling softly at Harry. When your eyes meet, he blows you a kiss. In that moment, he can’t help but think that thirty could be his best year yet.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem! reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles x fem!reader

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love-bitesx · 10 months

Note

im word vomiting my headcanon list and id love to hear what you think!

*hobie gifting things that he finds to his partner like a crow. i can imagine they'd just randomly turn up, either on a desk or like they'll just find it in their bag or pocket, or that he'd just walk of and just hand it to them with no word *hobie fell for his partner hard, though he kept it pretty well hidden from everyone except pav starts calling his 'loverboy', eventually the nickname catches on to the point his future partner starts using it as well(either b/c they like it and thay're oblivious or they know exactly whats going on and are teasing him about it) *loves playful banter *nicknames for daaaaaays with his partner *hobie getting serious with a partner would be him gifting them something important, first thoughts are either a guitar pick of his or one of his favorite rings (its the most worn one he has, a simple metal one that you can literally feel the love thats gone into it. somehow it fits his partners finger perfectly)

i may be back with more, until then i salute you!

i agree with ur hc’s so much!! this is how i hc & tend to write hobie so, 100%! pls don’t hesitate if u think of anymore hehe

i’d love to expand! ~

- giving you gifts, to him, is like the ideal expression of love.

- because basically all of them are stolen, it’s a combination of his favourite things; stealing from big corporations, and seeing the beaming, heart-warming smile on your face when you open your bag and see a tiny trinket wrapped in newspaper.

- everytime you would come home, you’d find a new little addition to the house somewhere – notably: necklaces, rings, tiny ceramic statues or wooden decorations, pens, music (cd’s, vinyls, etc.) – especially if he’s been to camden market that day, his pockets would be full for you.

- when he started to fall for you, he low-key thought he was coming down with the flu.

- whenever you were around, his heart would flutter, his head dizzy and palms sweating – he considered getting medicine, until pavitr pointed something out.

- “how are you, loverboy?”

- “eh? you talking to me, pav?”

- “of course, hobie! little loverboy”

- “did you hit your head, bro?”

- pavitr would explain that he’d noticed hobie’s eyes glued to you whenever you spoke, hanging onto every word like gospel, and the way he flustered when you touched him, how he’d do anything in his power to be in your personal space.

- “shit.”

- “no! this is a good thing, my friend! love is the most bea—”

- “shit.”

- days went past of hobie avoiding you, he’d never been in love before, and it was scary to him

- his brain was only thinking of you, and he hated that he liked it. he hated that he wished for every thought to be of you.

- and he hated that he could see your body deflate when he avoided you, hated that your eyes looked sad when he turned away

- he hated that he liked loving you

- until, you caught him on his own one day, he was minding his business, relaxing on his lonesome whilst the others hung out in different dimensions.

- “hey, loverboy”

- a deer in headlights wouldn’t even come close to the shock on his face

- “loverboy?”

- loverboy? you were calling him loverboy?

- “yeah, loverboy, that’s you, isn’t it?”

- in all fairness, you were completely oblivious to the reason behind it – pav had simply just started calling him it when hobie wasn’t around, and it stuck

- “i-i guess so”

- clearing his throat, he willed his confidence back to the surface

- “you can call me anything you want, sweetheart”

- it wasn’t long before you were together, a gentle, but spontaneous kiss after a particularly dangerous mission one day sealing the deal between you both

- he was obsessed with you

- now he could be obvious about his feelings, he took that and ran with it

- his arm was essentially glued to your side, or over your shoulders, or anywhere where he could pull you in close to him

- he’d grab you by the belt buckles, dragging you towards him and welcoming you with a soft peck on the lips

- even in public, almost especially in public

- always have his hands in your back pockets, he says he hates the cliché-ness of it but he likes that he can hold you close whilst respecting your personal space – and he can feel your ass, but he doesn’t admit that outloud

- THE NICKNAMES.

- THE. NICKNAMES.

- this man is born and bred british, and over here we use nicknames more than actual names

- darling, sweetheart, love, lovely, all of those AND more are natural to him, anyway

- but he adds a special little “my” before them all now, now that you actually are his, and so “my darling”, “my love”, etc. are like a second name to you

- in bed, the nicknames would be even better, but i’ll leave that to your imagination…

- when things started getting a little serious, you’d been dating for months, all your friends and colleagues knew about him, your family as well (if you decide to tell them)

- you’re relaxing in hobie’s dimension, laying on his bed with your head on his shoulder, reading a book whilst he strums at his guitar softly. he’s humming a song you don’t recognise, but the sound of his deep melody was enough to lull you.

- “hey, love?”

- you hum in response

- “i wanna give you something.”

- sitting you up, he’d lay his guitar down and face you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to him

- “what are you—”

- he’d fiddle with his own hands for a second, before twisting his favourite ring off his index finger

- “here.”

- “hobie, are you—”

- “i’m not proposing, don’t worry. weddings are just a social nuisance that give us one more way to control each other. no. this is better.”

- you tilt your head and watch him, as he slides his ring onto your middle finger

- “it’s just a promise.”

- “a promise?”

- “a promise that i love you, and that i’m yours, innit.”

- “oh, hobie.”

- you cry a tiny bit

- and he hugs you tightly, kissing your forehead

- that’s when he knew it was serious with you, not only because of how he was so obsessed with you, and his heart melted at your touch, but because when he saw you with the ring on, his ring, his person, it just felt right. he didn’t ever wanna see you without it, or without him.

- “hey, hobie, did you mean what you said about marriage? you don’t wanna marry me one day?”

- “hey, i said i hate weddings. nothing about marriage. not if we do it our own way, you know?”

i love him so much. also pls stick around, couple of one shots & fics will be out this week!!! sorry they’re taking ages hehe

#hobie brown x you #hobie brown #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x reader #atsv hobie #hobie x y/n #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie spiderverse #hobie my beloved #hobie #spiderpunk #spider punk #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #across the spiderverse #pavitr prabhakar #love bitesx

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dilatorywriting · 1 year

Text

Pity Party

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: 'I'm going to do it,' you thought triumphantly. 'I'm going to invite Malleus Draconia to the next Unbirthday Party as my date.' And naturally, the Universe in all its infinite omnipotence, went 'lol bet.'

A/N: A very fun commission for the lovely @toast-tales

“Heartslaybul is having another one of their Unbirthday Parties this Friday,” you said, a bit stilted but enthusiastic nevertheless. “And I was thinking—well, it was just a thought! But! Maybe it’d be nice if we, y’know, went together?” You finished, looking up from beneath your lashes at the looming figure before you.

The Gargoyle, naturally, did not respond. A sound rejection if ever there was one.

But! That attempt had sounded really good, hadn’t it? Totally natural and everything! Not a single stutter, fainting episode, or bought of nervous vomiting to be seen!

“Okay,” you muttered, pacing back and forth as you diligently fought the urge to ring your hands. “Okay, okay, okay. I can do this. It’s just, like, two sentences—Three? Was that three?—Doesn’t matter! Focus! It’s not that hard!”

You circled and circled around the alcove. It was a familiar little corner, for all that you’d only ever seen it in the dark of the evening. This was where you’d meet up with Malleus for your nighttime rendezvous. Normally you didn’t bother popping by for at least another hour, but you needed all the practice you could get. And while, yes, the stone carvings overhead were hardly the best conversational partners, it was easier to practice your totally smooth pickup skills on their emotionless faces than, like, Grim. Or God forbid, Ace and Deuce.

It was only Malleus, you reassured yourself yet again—your kindly, awkward, fey friend with the social awareness of a two-centuries-old potato. It was one thing to know, or at least assume, that he’d be sweet enough to take your offer in stride. It was another entirely to imagine the Briar Prince’s blank ass face saying something genuinely well-intentioned but harsh like ‘that doesn’t sound like a particularly riveting way to spend my afternoon,’ and immediately crushing your soul into itty bitty bite-sized pieces. It was an all too easy scene to picture, as you’d done at least a hundred times since your heart had set itself on its intentions.

You just—maybe just a bit more time. Yes. One more round of practice (perhaps two), and then you’d be ready. Like the Overblots, or whatever. Those hardly phased you at all anymore! It only took repetitive, mind rending, exposure therapy. That would do it. You just needed the teeniest bit more time to—

“Ah—Child of Man. I wasn’t expecting to see you here so earl—”

You jolted back with a truly heinous squawk and wheeled gracelessly into the stone pillar at your rear. You weren’t exactly a force of nature or anything, but the column hadn’t looked all that stable to begin with. So your frantic flailing took its toll, and the great, rock, beam creaked and fell. The Gargoyle perched atop it (the very one you’d been propositioning for the past half hour or so) crashed to the ground with an echoing BOOM and a cloud of debris fit to choke an elephant.

The poor thing lay in the dirt in pieces, its regal countenance split right down the middle. And Malleus Draconia, noted aficionado of all things carved from stone, looked two steps away from having an actual aneurism. So you hurriedly buried your invitation back in the depths of your brain and quickly went about carrying out the inanimate-object-equivalent of CPR.

“I think I have some super glue back in Ramshackle,” you offered. Even though you knew well enough that he could probably wave his hand and undo the entire thing. But it was the thought that counted, right?

“Supered Glue?” Malleus parroted, his neon eyes darting back and forth between you and the shattered gargoyle like you’d just offered him some mystical panacea. You nodded along and scuttled off in the direction of your dilapidated dorm.

‘Tomorrow,’ you promised yourself, as you rifled through your miscellaneous utilities drawer, tossing around rolls of tape and wads of too-thin elastic bands. ‘Tomorrow I’ll ask him.’

The next morning, you sat in Potion’s Class with the tacky remnants of last night’s nonsense dried along your fingertips. You sneezed and something ground unpleasantly behind your ear. You reached up to pluck a stray bit of gravel from your hair and flicked it aside.

Normally you tried to give Crewel’s lectures the entirety of your focus, primarily because you respected the man and wanted him to like you. And also, y’know, from the very rational standpoint of not wanting to lose your eyebrows or dignity when an incorrectly brewed potion exploded in your face. But today you were stuck in the clouds, replaying scenario after scenario and wondering what your next step in the whole ‘Ask The Crowned Prince of An Entire Nation Out to Lunch’ situation should be.

Your neck was itching again, and you scrubbed around mindlessly before pulling out another bit of gargoyle debris and tossing it. It bounced harmlessly off Jack’s shoulder.

“Did you get all that?” Your beastman friend asked, beginning the tedious process of organizing your group workstation for the day.

“Oh? Yes. Of course,” you nodded, not having heard a single word of what was going on. You grabbed your little instructions pamphlet for the day and made your way towards your own stool.

Jack turned and narrowed his yellow eyes at you in a way that clearly let you know that that superhuman schnoz of his had sniffed out your bullshit a mile away, but you generally had a better track record than the rest of the first years, so thankfully he let it slide.

Without further ado, you went about heating, and mixing, and tempering. And by the end, the pair of you had a lovely, silver, concoction that popped and fizzled like cola. Professor Crewel paused in his rounds of the rows to stare into your cauldron with an impassive sort of look that could have meant anything from ‘Content’ to ‘Outright Murder.’ Your eyes hastily flickered around the room, but everyone else’s potions looked liked Mercury Sprite too, so you couldn’t have been in too much trouble. You dipped the testing spoon into one of the bubbliest bits and brought it to your mouth to take a teeny sip. It tasted alright, and you smacked your lips as you tried to identify the flavor.

“Well?” The professor droned, crossing his arms over his chest in a fashion that looked entirely unimpressed. “How is it?”

You opened your mouth to reply and nothing came out but static. Literal static. Like you were some overloaded, old, plug—spitting sparks and whiny, high-pitched, nonsense that was most definitely an indication of some sort of fire risk.

Crewel hummed in that self-satisfied sort of way of his—the sort that was only mastered by those who were in the habit of being proven right during every, single, catastrophe.

“The Tickled Tongue recipe is fairly straightforward, you see,” he explained, stepping closer with a languid swishswish of his large overcoat. “It’s difficult to alter without any remarkable change or err. However,” he droned, “it is incredibly similar to the Stone Tongued Elixir. Do you know what the one, unique, ingredient in that brew is in comparison to our assigned project today, Prefect?”

You sighed fuzz.

“Stone,” he said, reaching out to pluck another bit of gravel from your hair.

Crewel brushed his hands against his vest and you debated if it’d be worth it to try jumping out of the window and escape while you still had at least some face.

“I’ve been kind enough to look the other way when you break curfew so that you may continue your… nightly excursions with a certain upperclassman,” he droned, and that open window was looking even more tempting. “But please at least give me the courtesy of cleaning up the evidence before attending my class in the mornings, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to say, but it just sounded like a busted landline.

“Hello, Child of Man,” Malleus beamed, his lips curling pleasantly at the corners. His usual trio were flanking his hind, all watching with varying degrees of interest that ranged from sharp curiosity (Lilia) to outright hostility (Sebek). “Would you care to accompany me for lunch?”

You opened your mouth and all that came out was the fucking AOL dial tone.

Lilia doubled over laughing and Malleus tilted his head at you like a dog listening to a whistle tone.

“Pardon?” He blinked.

“BZZZZZZ,” you said, miserable, and Lilia just laughed harder.

‘Two days left,’ you reminded yourself miserably. You had just under forty-eight wretched hours to not only complete your initial Date Objective, but also somehow do that whole thing while making up for the ego-crushing failures of your first two failures.

There was a Spelldrive match after classes today—another attempt for Leona to try and get one up on Malleus’s ‘Hall of Fame Worthy’ record before the pair of them aged out of the competition. And maybe that would be perfect! That was always sort of a Thing in teen movies, right? The big, heart wrenching, confession delivered on the field of whatever sport was in season. The fated couple lit all prettily beneath the glaring overhead lights and artfully drenched in a very timely shower of rain. This whole situation was practically writing itself.

So you tucked yourself into a warm, cozy, sweater fit for the breezy day and inevitable aesthetic downpour, and went to sit out in the stands. Which was your first mistake, because the match was being held on Savanaclaw’s practice field. So immediately you could feel sweat pooling along your lower back and along your brow as the magical, overhead, sunshine did its best to seer the flesh right off your bones. Malleus moved to step out onto the field and you went to wave at him enthusiastically, only to catch sight of the giant pit stains steeped into your stupid sweater. The dark spots opened up like the gaping maw on a beast, determined to derive its entire sustenance from your embarrassment alone. You clamped your arms back down to your sides and immediately began questioning the universe at large. Were you a murderer in a past life? Someone who scammed old ladies out of their pensions? What other reason could there be for the entire fucking cosmos to just perpetually go ‘hey, how about we make things worse.’

The game was probably going well or something, but you were swimming in so much swampy body heat at this point that you were starting to get dizzy.

With a sigh, you pulled the cute, wool, deathtrap over your head and tossed it aside—ruffling your sweat sticky hair for good measure to try and get some airflow going. It wasn’t the most dignified look or whatever, sitting there in only the thin cotton undershirt of your uniform and half drowned in your own secretions, but at least you weren’t in imminent danger of dying of heat stroke anymore. You leaned back on your elbows with another much more contented sigh and gave yourself a moment to let the last of that hot nausea settle.

“Oi! You horned bastard! Watch where you’re—”

There was a swirl of spitting green sparks and you looked back out onto the field just in time to get absolutely decimated by a Spelldrive disc to the face.

“He really didn’t mean it,” Lilia said, but he was laughing so hard into his fist that it was hard to make out anything beyond merry gurgling. “In fact, he’s really very upset about the whole thing.”

You stared blankly at the off-white walls of the infirmary, wondering how it was possible for one person’s luck to be this bad.

“Where is he?” you asked. Your tongue felt thick and sluggish.

“I don’t think he would appreciate me saying that he was off hiding—pouting, even,” the fey tutted, floating up to sit cross-legged at your eyelevel. “But I don’t believe there’s a much more accurate way of putting it.”

“Why would he be hiding?” you trudged forward again, mouth still entirely uncooperative. “I wanted to ask him something,” you admitted, chronically dejected and acutely brain damaged.

“Did you now?” Lilia grinned, something mischievous and far too knowing lighting his wine-red eyes.

You nodded. You could feel the tug of the bandages around your forehead.

“Well, I’ll ask that you be patient with him,” he sighed fondly, reaching out to pat your cheek. “For all his years, our Prince is still a bit stunted.”

“Oh, please! He’s six and a half feet tall!” you complained.

Lilia laughed again, doubling over in the air and doing a full roll about—like a pill bug.

“Oh, dear,” he snickered, wiping a tear from his eye as he straightened back out to lounge upside down by one of the rafters. “You do deserve each other.”

This was it. The final countdown. Friday.

The Unbirthday Party was this afternoon, and with God and the Heavens as your witness, you would be dragging Malleus Draconia there with you if it was the last thing you did.

‘The hardest part is supposed to be the rejection,’ you thought bitterly. ‘Not that crap leading up to it. This is bullshit. I want a refund.’

But no, if the Universe was going to be so cruel to you, then you were just going to have to be needlessly paranoid and prepared in advance. You set aside two spare sets of clothing and an umbrella. You packed an entire feast’s worth of provisions in case a fucking hole decided to open up in the ground or something and trap you in a cave for a week. You scribbled a little ‘Would you please go with me to the Unbirthday Party today’ on not one, or two, but three separate notes. Each in a different pocket. And laminated. And, perhaps most daring of all, you walked up to Ace and Deuce that morning with a stiff upper lip and an even stiffer spine.

“I’m going to ask Tsunotarou to come to the Unbirthday Party today,” you told them, fighting the urge to twist your hands into your jacket sleeves.

“What?” Ace choked, just as Deuce stepped in to clobber him over the back of the head and tell you very sweetly that he was sure that the House Warden would appreciate that very much.

“You must like him a lot,” your blue haired friend said, polite but clearly also at least a little unnerved.

“Yeah,” you sighed miserably, thinking of each and every horrible failure as the world at large fought your stupid affections at every turn. “I guess I do.”

So you went about your day like a soldier trudging through a warzone—always at the ready for something unknowable to fuck you over yet again. You looked twice around every corner, always let someone else walk through a doorway first, immediately spritzed Azul in the face with a spray bottle when he tried to start a conversation. It wasn’t paranoia when you knew the universe was out to get you.

The school day was coming to an end and so far you’d managed to avoid any catastrophes. When you caught sight Malleus off in the distance, you had to fight down the sudden swell of dueling panic and hope that blocked off your throat. You made eye contact with the fey prince from across the near empty corridor and he seemed to straighten. You took a deep breath and took one step forward, then another.

“Tsunotarou!” you called cheerfully. “I was wondering if you—”

“FIRE!” Crowley wailed, careening around the corner with all the urgency of someone who very much genuinely cared about the safety of their school and all its inhabitants. Which was outright ridiculous. His glowing, golden, eyes locked on you like you’d been the target of this caterwauling all along, and you wanted to scream. “Ah! My most darling and favorite of Prefects! You have to help! There’s a fire in—”

“No,” you snarled, like some great monster of old. And you watched the Headmaster pale beneath his bird mask. You reached out to pat his shoulder with a pleasantly threatening thump. thump. thump. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to sort it out on your own, sir. Have a lovely afternoon!”

And before you could chicken out, or something else could happen—like a tornado ripping the entire school up at its base and flinging you into Oz—you rushed forward and latched onto Malleus’s sleeve with a wide, panicked, sort of look in your eyes. Hisown eyes went round and wide, but he didn’t pull away, so step one complete.

“Please come to Heartslaybul’s Unbirthday Party with me!” You entreated. “As my date! With me! Together!” you word vomited, clutching at his sleeve even tighter.

“Oh,” Malleus breathed—those sharp, reptilian, pupils of his jumping into something soft and huge that swallowed the green of his irises in a sea of black. A pale, rose, pink crept along the tips of his pointed ears and you could feel your own cheeks blazing like a bonfire.

“Yup,” you nodded lamely, realizing you were still clutching his hand like a starving leper.

“Lilia had mentioned that you might…” he trailed off, gaze sliding to your fingers tangled beside his. “I hadn’t thought that—well…” He cleared his throat and stood to his full height with a puff that almost looked prideful. “Nevertheless,” he grinned, almost shy, and offered you his arm. “Shall we?”

You were going to die. Keel over. That would be the cosmos’s final strike against you. But though your heart beat like a rapid drum in your chest, you didn’t actually collapse in cardiac arrest. Your blood felt warm, but not with fever. It was… You’d actually done it!

You fought the urge to squeal and instead ducked excitedly against Malleus’s side with a secret little fist bump. His arm wound snuggly through yours and you were still too high on the thrill of victory to even consider being embarrassed about it.

“It may surprise you to know,” he said as you walked together towards the Queen of Heart’s Dormitory. “That I actually was attempting to ask something similar of you for this past week as well.”

“Really?” you gaped.

He nodded. “But it seemed as though fate itself was conspiring against me. The first evening went poorly, and then the next day you’d been cursed into silence. And you even ended up injured during one of my attempts.”

“The Spelldrive disc?” you blinked.

“Unfortunately,” Malleus sighed, leading you towards the familiar rose gardens. Which were lovely as always, and perfectly well painted for the afternoon’s festivities, and—

And… also on fire.

“Well what do you know…” you mumbled as you watched a furious Riddle chase a screeching Ace through the flaming fields. Trey had his head in his hands. Cater was filming the whole thing with an artful smear of ash drawn across his cheek.

Malleus made a low rumble of discontentment and you immediately swung the pair of you around to start heading back towards the Mirror Chamber.

“Not to worry!” you beamed, pointedly jostling the full picnic lunch in your bag. Sure, it hadn’t ended up being a gaping hole that had dragged you straight into the bowels of the abyss, but hey. Hellfire was hellfire. “I came prepared.”

“So did I,” Malleus smirked, the points of his canines peaking out of his lower lip. He twisted his fingers and the pair of you were surrounded in puffs of floating, sparkling, green lights.

And despite the Universe technically, yet again, having come out on top and flipped you and your date the proverbial middle finger, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be too upset at all.

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus x Yuu #My Writing #Commission #Pity Party

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lilu-the-almighty · 6 months

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I know we all think the blue is radiation. And that is an extremely strong theory and I will not be surprised at all if that is it. But idk it might be my science brain but I don't quite think that is right. Like sure radiation does some of the things mentioned in the story so far, but it mainly effects generationally (if it doesn't just kill you outright). And this whole "lightning" thing seems very strange if the answer is radiation. If it WAS radiation, I feel like Aabria would be leaning into it's effects on the kids?

And maybe she IS doing that. maybe that is what her plan is with Viola's kids. Cause if that is true oh boy guys that is going to FUCK ME UP.

And again this is DND, not a lab report, many of the effects of "the blue" very well may just be for storytelling purposes and I am the last person who is going to dog-pile anyone for stretching reality for a good story. Honestly that would be so cool if this is radiation and that is what she is doing.

But if you held a gun to my head at This Point, October 18 2023, right after I finished watching episode 3, I would say that it is not radiation. Or at the very least not JUST radiation. I think it is something different. I think this big laboratory(?) was a sight for some government experiment and the blue is something of its own. Some horrifying chemical weapon, or new way to harness radiation, or even something that effects stoats directly. Some experiment using stoats as test subjects that went horribly wrong.

Maybe THAT is why the guy in the hazmat suit was reaching specifically for Thorn. Maybe he was trying to clear any of the escaped stoats from the facility? Maybe they had orders to cull every stoat population in the area in hopes to stop the spread of whatever was on those test subjects? Maybe the test subjects are the stoats who are in the "human warren" now.

I am fully just stream of consciousness word vomiting right now, but this campaign is so fucking good. I am on the edge of my seat waiting for next Wednesday.

#burrow's end #burrows end #D20 #dimension 20 #stupendous stoats #episode 3 #burrow's end spoilers

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ssahotchnerr · 11 days

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OMG OKAY, AN IDEA INSPIRED BY AN OUTFIT (or two) I FOUND ON PINTEREST!! (I'd like them, but you can't on anon)

Okay, so, you've been dating Aaron for a little while, long enough that you guys live together and Jack would like, love you.

Jack would have a lot of friends at school, and all the mom's would be really close and friendly and would hang out for the sake of having their kids hang out, and they'd sort of be friends in a sense. So, one day, (I don't have the logistics figured out, so bare with me.) you'd have been talking to one of the moms about a way to kind of insert yourself into the school a little more and make more friends so that it's less awkward when he wants to hang out with his friends. And, the mom would suggest you host a garden party. So, you'd throw a garden party with all the mom's and their kids and Aaron would just be the most supportive person ever because he knows how stresses you are. Like you'd be planning this for weeks and you'd spend hours setting up. He'd go to the grocery store with you and help you pick out good foods. And he'd help you pick out decorations and hang them all up. And he'd make sure everything was as perfect as you'd want it to be. And ofc he'd be there during the party and talking to the mom's about how sweet you are and about you in general.

Anyway, sorry about the word vomit that thought has just been rotting in my brain. 🫶

STOP <3333333 fem!reader

when you first bring up the party to him, you're a bit nervous. you're afraid he'll think it's dumb or unnecessary (which you know isn't plausible because he would never) - he's fully on board, soo supportive and immediately off the bat says, "let me know what i can do to help🥹" and gives you suchhh a sweet kiss 🥹🥰🥰🥰

all the prep <333 you're scouring pinterest for ideas constantly - food, decor most importantly, outfit planning, fun activities for the kids. hehe you do this in bed at night, with aaron resting his head on your shoulder. he's watching you scroll, adding input, answering your questions: "is this cute?" "what do you think about this???" and eventually he has to pry your phone out of your hand, place it on his nightstand, so you go to sleep 😭🫶🏻

and week of the party, he's the most helpful assistant <333 as the two of you are grocery shopping, he's in charge of the list, reading off to you what you need as you grab it off the shelves. aaron also helps put together little party favors, helps you make name tags for the tables, and simply does anything you ask of him. he knows how important it is to you that it goes smoothly 🥺 hehe i also like to think at this point, you, aaron and jack have moved out of his apartment to a house with a backyard - where the party will be taking place - so he's on landscaping duty. making sure the grass is mowed and neat, no leaves or sticks are laying around, and even jack helps!!! hehe you planted some pretty, colorful flowers for the occasion as it is garden themed, and jack helped with that 🥹 aaron also wakes up early with you the day of, to begin the prep and setting up. omg imagine him putting together the balloon arrangement you picked out 🥹<333 he would get SO frustrated LMAO but in the end it turns out perfectly 🥰🥰🥰

and since you're so stressed out about it going well, about the other moms liking you and making friends, if the weather is going to cooperate (you were in tears a few days before the party, the forecast predicted rain😭) and aaron clearly knows how stressed you are, he makes sure you take breaks, provides reassurances and helps you get your mind off it frequently <3 hehe he uses the excuse that he needs attention 🥺🤨🫵🏻 and how can you say no to him 🥰

and during the party, aaron's making sure you're enjoying yourself - this is your party. so he takes care of everything - if something is needed, he grabs it or resolves it himself, makes sure the plates of food are always replenished, cleans up. you went through allllll the trouble of putting this together, so you're going to be a part of it and not solely on hostess duty <333

aaron's even outfit-coordinated with you 🤭 his button-up of the day matches the color of your sundress <333 jack's shirt too!!!

AND AHHH HE LOVESSSS gushing about you to the other moms 🥰 he has the most sickly sweet smile on his face the whole time. about how sweet you are, how attentive and loving you are to jack, how lucky he is, how you complete their family perfectly <333 he of course compliments you on the party you put together too 🥹 "isn't it amazing? she did the most amazing job." 😭💞💓

and throughout, he keeps going to your side, pulling you close at the waist, kissing your temple 🥹🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭😭😭😭 and simply keeps an arm around you as often as possible <333 either listening or adding to the conversation you're partaking in <3

after everyone's left and the two of you are cleaning up - jack fell asleep on the couch, all the excitement wore him out 😭 - 🥹 aaron's keeps saying how proud of yourself you should be; the party turned out better than he could've ever imagined, the moms all loved you, he's proud of you, etc <3333 hehe he even throws in the teasing comment that now they're all going to be asking you when the next party is 🥹🥰

#🍭anon #AHHHHHHHHHH #THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds drabble

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zoropookie · 1 month

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HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter sixteen — doxxing is okay sometimes 💋

The entire drive back to your house, Scaramouche wondered why he was always put into compromising situations. It wasn't the late hour, or the otherwise deserted roads other than the usual few vehicles being dime a dozen.

No...it was that he was chauffeuring the only person he didn't want to be within a ten foot pole radius from. Softly, your laughter was still emitting from your lips as your head lolled back and forth.

His eyebrows knitted together in frustration, grip tightening on the steering wheel. He was annoyed, but knowing this was the quietest that he'll ever see you was more comforting than not being perceived.

Texts from his phone illuminating a section under his arm as his eyes kept flicking back and forth, he knew it was Ei bothering him again. Her poking and prodding the gnawing that he always felt being around her.

Pulling into your driveway, he brought his car in enough to quickly get you out. Tohma quickly headed into eye view to hurry towards the other side of the door. "Thank you so much. I don't know what I'd do if they weren't able to get home."

He sighed in response, turning off the engine. "Is that all?"

"Yeah...(Y/N)?" Tohma paused, his gaze lingered on you. "They're completely out."

"Keen observation." Scaramouche sarcastically quipped.

Tohma looked at the other before hesitantly rounding you up, careful not to jostle you as he helped your limp body out of the car. Your body soon enough became less languid, eyes slowly opening.

You mumbled something unintelligible in response, your words slurred. "Scaramouche," You made out, blinking blearily before you felt a certain rage overcome your body again. "Where is he?!"

Your steps were unsteady as you leaned against Tohma for leverage, but you were also thrashing to turn and find the person you were screaming at through Twitter earlier.

"(Y/N)...take it easy-!" His words were drowned out by your fervent rage, your gaze was wild as you scanned the surroundings, only to see the very person you were talking about.

"YOU." Your voice rose to a shout, staggering towards him. "Had some nerve coming to my house!" You shouted, tears welling in your eyes as your vision went in and out, "My friends hate me because of you! I will fucking see to it that you are destroyed by my very hands!" You screamed, causing Tohma to panic.

"I'm really sorry! Thank you...again-! (Y/N), please stop." Tohma struggled out. He felt like he was on the verge of a brain aneurysm any second now.

He lunged towards you to hold you back from attacking Scaramouche, but as soon as you did that, you were about to speak again. And then you regurgitated, your body convulsed until you were retching violently, doubling over.

"Oh my god," Tohma mouthed silently, his body frozen.

It was a sight to behold - Scaramouche's dark clothes were colored in a murky brown shade of vomit. But instead of what Tohma thought he was going to do, it was the complete opposite. He didn't recoil in horror, he didn't scream or curse, he simply just stood there, expression unreadable.

He was probably so pissed off that he forgot that he was initially having a horrible day.

"Okay! Okay!!" Tohma said in between two deep breaths, holding you in between his arms even tighter despite your struggling. "Scaramouche. Please let me help you clean up before you leave."

“No.” He replied with a sudden urgency that seethed through his teeth, flicking some of the chunks of sick off of his fingers. “Absolutely not. I’m going home.”

“I’m saying this with all due respect despite everything you’ve done. You can’t go home looking like that, I won’t let you.”

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo @justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @melpomenelurks @keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi @kyon-cherri @1lellykins @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles @kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @pichulakkjkk @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3 @alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith @kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan @yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123 @strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway @agaygothicmushroom @levianamor (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

#zoropookie #hhab #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin #genshin impact #genshin smau #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin x yn #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you

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ggrapeejuicee · 4 months

Text

Right Person. Wrong Time

harry styles angst

summary: Harry’s fame puts you in danger, and he can’t let himself be the reason you get hurt

word count: 1.1k

— — —

Harry was half way through a residency as Madison Square Garden. The whole world loved him. He’d been crowned the new king of pop.

You’d left the show half way through to grab some food, and ended up wandering to take in the pretty lights of the city.

He’d barely spoken to you this morning, leaving the hotel room barely uttering a goodbye. He didn’t tell you his plans for after the show or what time he’d be back at. The past few days he’d been distant. It was unlike him considering how close you’d been for the past few months.

Apart from rehearsals and performing you’d been practically inseparable since you started dating, but now it sort of felt like he was slipping away.

He got back to the hotel room after midnight, you had reruns of an old sitcom from your childhood playing on the TV while you had been waiting for him.

“You’re late tonight.” You smile at him as he comes through the door.

“Yeah.” He says gruffly.

“You okay?” You ask, “You’re usually in a more talkative mood.”

“Been a long day.” He shrugged.

“Yeah I get it. I just feel like we haven’t spent much time together recently.”

“Yeah, because I’m working.” He snapped, “I’ve had a show like every day.”

“No, I know that-”

“Well clearly not.”

“I was just trying to be nice, no need to go all moody on me.” You roll your eyes.

“You just don’t understand what it’s like for me.”

“I don’t understand?” You scoffed, “Harry I’ve given up everything for you. I cancelled the lease on my apartment, I quit my job, I left my fiancée. Just so I could come with you on this damn tour.”

“I didn’t fucking ask you to do any of that.” He said angrily, “You done all of that on your own, don’t fucking blame that on me.”

“Stop yelling at me.”

“Then stop being a fuckin’ brat.”

You shook your head, not believing what was happening right now.

“I told you that this wasn’t going to work out, right from the beginning. I told you we should’ve just left it in Miami, but you wanted to keep it going.”

“We both wanted to keep it going, you were just too much of a coward to commit yourself to it. You can’t commit, Harry, to anything.”

He slammed his fist against the wall, knuckles turning red with the force he hit the plasterboard. His face was red with anger. With a combination of his drunken state and the heat of this argument, this was one of the worst tempers you’d ever seen from him.

“I commit. I commit every single day. To this job, this life.”

“But you can’t commit to me?” You shout, tears welling up in your eyes, “I’m just asking for a little respect here.”

“This just isn’t working out.” He said.

You’d tried to stay strong throughout this, but as soon as those words left his lips you couldn’t help but to start crying. Tears flowed down your cheeks and sobs escaped your mouth.

Harry just stood and watched.

He stood emotionless, watching you break down in front of him, every emotion you were feeling was caused by him and he looked as if he didn’t care.

“I think you should go back to Miami. Coming on the rest of the tour isn’t a good idea.”

You felt sick. You felt like you were going to vomit everywhere. A mixture of different thoughts flooded your brain.

Where would you go? You had no apartment.

How would you get a flight? You had no money.

Harry had made a promise to you that he’d take care of you while he was on the road, and now he’s here breaking that promise in a million different ways.

“You’re an asshole.”

“You should’ve listened to me before. This wouldn’t be happening right now.”

“So what went wrong, huh? You bored of me? You found someone else? Or has the alcohol just made you honest for the first time since I’ve known you.”

“God, I’ve not found someone else. There is no one else can’t you fucking see that?”

“Then why are you doing this? Why are you hurting me for no reason.” It was hard to breathe through the crying. It had already been a long day, but coming home to this had made it so much worse, “You’re standing there watching me get myself into such a state and you look like you couldn’t care less.“

“There’s always a reason.” He shouts, “Always a fucking reason.”

“Then you need to tell me. Help me understand why you’re just giving up on this. On us.”

Your heart was beating out your chest. This man, in the few months you had been together, had become your whole life. And now you were loosing him for what seemed like forever.

“If something happened to you I’d never forgive myself.”

“Nothings going to happen, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Those photographers yesterday were just the start. Ever since people found out about us, your whole safety has been jeopardised. I will not let anything happen to you because of me.”

“Harry-”

“No.” He interrupts, “You wanted an explanation so let me talk.”

“As long as you’re with me you’re not safe. People will stalk you and invade on your privacy for as long as I’m in the public eye. This isn’t the life either of us want for you.”

“I don’t give a shit about all of that, I just want you.”

“I can’t let you give up all your privacy just for me. That’s not fair.”

“This should be my decision, Harry.” You argue.

He shakes his head.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me, instead of putting on the whole asshole act.”

“I needed you to listen. I still need you to listen.”

“I am listening.”

“Well you’re not hearing me properly then. We need to be over. We can’t keep this,” He gestures between you both, “up, because it means you’re not safe.”

“Then up the security, get me a bodyguard.”

He shakes his head, and for the first time since this conversation began you could see sadness in his eyes.

“You and I both know that you don’t want a bodyguard following you around for the rest of your life.”

He reaches for your hand, placing his lips against the back of it softly.

“I’ll sort out a flight and somewhere for you to stay, don’t worry about that. This isn’t what I want to happen, it’s what needs to happen. And if somehow, somewhere in the future we’re brought back together then we will be. Just… Not right now.”

Deep down you knew he was right. The insane photographer trying to get in your cab the other night was a step too far, and no doubt something like that could happen again on a bigger more dangerous scale.

But you didn’t want to loose him.

Right person. Wrong time.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #fanfic #harry styles fanfic #angst #harry styles angst #angsty fanfic #fanfiction #one direction

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retrobutterflies · 2 years

Text

Velvet Kisses | e.m.

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Your shitty job has you turning to your almost-boyfriend for help, making both of you admit the full extent of your feelings.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Slight Angst, Major Fluff, Semi-Established Relationship, A creepy man but nothing happens

A/N: This is my brain vomit.

There were few jobs in Hawkins that were desirable. Last year you worked at the 5 & 10 and your boss didn't understand that you couldn't work shifts before 3pm because of school so he fired you for showing up late to shifts you explicitly stated you couldn't work. Over the summer you were a camp counselor and had dealt with enough crying kids and kickballs to the face last you a lifetime. And your job at the minimart lasted all of three days before the former employee who you were replacing had come back begging for their job.

But working at the gas station had to be one of the better jobs you've had. It required little brain power, the most taxing job being wresting with the cash register that seemed like it was a hundred years old. Your boss was a kind man, paying you generously and forcing his son to drive you home at the end of your night shifts. And he even let you leave early if it was a particularly slow day.

That being said, you had never encountered so many walks of life as you had at your evening night shifts at Hawkins Oil. Young kids trying to see if you'd let them buy beer, raiding the snack aisle, and asking you strange probing questions like 'Have you ever been to Skull Rock?' Older patrons frequenting the back freezers and packs of cigarette lining the wall behind you. Some people asked for strangely specific amounts of gas to be put on their pumps and others counted their change down to the last cent as if you were planning on jipping them a nickel.

The worst, however, was the creepy men whose eyes lit up at a young girl working the night shifts. They would lean in close enough so you could smell the tobacco on their breath as they asked for a lighter or gum or whatever was behind the counter so you had to interact with them. And they would purposely brush your hand as they paid, making sure to ask you questions as you hurried through the sale as if it would prolong the conversation.

Your boss made sure to never have you working alone. Either him or his son would accompany you, staring down any strange man that tried anything. It was the reason you felt safe enough to work there. And you had never had any problems until today.

"I just need to leave ten minutes early. I'll do all the inventory and clean up. All you have to do is lock up once your shift is over." The owner's son Mikey was hard to say no to. His green eyes and swooping hair made him a complete sight for sore eyes and his continuous begging throughout the day about how important this date was tonight and how he couldn't be late or he'd never find true love made you acquiesce faster than you'd like to admit. And you wanted him to be happy you just didn't want to finish your shift alone.

"All the inventory?" you questioned as if you hadn't already made up your mind. His eyes lit up as he shook his head up and down.

"All of it. And you can leave ten minutes early on Monday," he added. You smiled. You were already going to say yes but you weren't going to argue with leaving early.

"Okay, fine. But you better fall in love," you said as he jumped up, scrambling to finish the inventory count so he could leave in twenty minutes.

"I'll tell this story at our wedding," he said, his grin highlighting his sharp cheekbones. You let out a laugh.

Twenty minutes came and went and soon enough Mikey was zipping out of there, his "See you next week!" fading until all you heard was the muted buzzing of the overhead fluorescent lights. You busied yourself with doodling on the discarded receipts, pen swirling in random patterns as you waited for the minutes to tick by. The ringing of the bell on the door had your eyes flickering up as a man wandered in. You didn't think much of it at first, continuing your aimless drawing as he meandered to the back freezer. But then he made his way up to the counter, making you jump as you noticed his proximity.

"That all?" you asked, straightening up as he placed the coke can on the counter.

"A pack of reds, too," he said after a moments hesitation. You nodded, turning behind you to grab the pack of Marlboro cigarettes. When you turned back, you couldn't help but notice the uncomfortable way his eyes lingered on you.

"That'll be $3.81." He nodded, pulled a five from his wallet, and slid it over the counter.

"You can keep the change," he said. You nodded, averting your eyes down to the cash register as you loaded in the bill. When he didn't leave, you glanced up at him feeling an uneasy prickling in the back of your neck at his stare.

"Do you need anything else, sir?" you asked. Maybe he was just tired. It was late and the sun had long set now, the only light illuminating the parking lot coming from the store.

"What time do you guys close?" he asked. It was an innocent question. Many people had asked you before and you didn't bat an eye. But there was something about this time, about him asking with his oddly piercing gaze that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Ten." It was quiet for a moment, neither of you saying anything else before he nodded, gave you a smile, and headed out the door. You watched him walk into the parking lot. He turned around halfway, eyes staring back at you. He smiled, again, and you felt your gut twist more. Then he walked to his car.

You waited with bated breath, waited for him to start the ignition and pull out of the lot. But the seconds ticked by and he wasn't leaving. You counted to sixty, then sixty again. Still the car sat motionless, shrouded in the darkness of the corner of the parking lot that the storefront didn't illuminate. Why wasn't he leaving? Why was he just sitting there?

You looked up at the clock, watching the big hand tick to ten o'clock on the dot. A sudden rush of dread flushed through you. Mikey had been your ride. In his excitement, neither of you remembered that he was supposed to drive you home. Your home which sat on the other side of town. Even if you wanted to walk it would take you nearly an hour. And looking at the car quiet and unmoving in the empty parking lot made the idea of walking a fool's mission.

You hopped up quickly, heading to the door to flip the lock. Even closer up you couldn't see the driver's seat of the car. If you hadn't watched the man get into it you would've believed it was abandoned.

"Shit," you muttered.

You walked back to the counter, grabbing for the phone as your eyes kept glancing back at the car as if it was finally going to leave. You called your house phone close to seven times. You knew your parents were staying with your grandparents but your good for nothing sister was supposed to be home. She wasn't even supposed to have plans tonight so why wasn't she answering.

You felt near hysterical as the phone went unanswered for the eighth time. You slammed the phone down, sending every curse under the sun to your lousy useless car-wrecking sister who was the whole reason you didn't have a car in the first place.

The car was still there and you still didn't have any way to get home. But like hell were you sleeping in this place. You gnawed on your lip, weighing your options before his face popped into your head.

Eddie Munson. You squeezed your eyes shut, wracking your brain to try and remember the combination of numbers of his landline. You had called him two days ago. It was written on a pink post-it note taped on your mirror. You stared at it every time you did your makeup. Grabbing the pen, you flipped over an un-doodled receipt and quickly wrote down the numbers you remembered. Four . . . nine . . . three . . . Come on.

You and Eddie had started seeing each other maybe three weeks ago. You weren't exclusive and you had only gone on a handful of dates but you did call each other often. You knew his number was somewhere in your brain you just had to pry it out.

Minutes passed by and your hope was dwindling exponentially until like a light bulb the number appeared in your brain. You quickly scribbled it down before you forgot and picked up the phone, punching the numbers in.

The phone rang and you nervously tapped the pen in your hand on the counter as you waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?" You had never been happier to hear his gruff rumbly voice.

"Eddie!" you breathed, smile over taking your face. You heard movement on the other end before he responded.

"Hi Sweetheart. I was wondering if you'd call," he commented. You could hear the smile in his voice, imagining him leaning onto his counter, phone pressed to his cheek.

"I was gonna, when I got home. But I'm still at work," you said. He let out a hum.

"Still working? Did you miss me that much?" he let out a soft chuckle. You would've laughed if you weren't so on edge.

"You wish," you replied, a smile working it way onto your lips. Just the sound of Eddie's voice had your anxious nerves settling a bit. "Um, are you doing anything right now?"

"Burning some Spaghettio's. Was gonna play a little guitar but," he cleared his throat as if he was suddenly nervous. You heard movement again, "Was kinda waiting for your call. Didn't wanna miss it."

The thought of Eddie loitering around the kitchen, eyes watching the land line waiting for your call had your stomach doing somersaults. You had had a crush on Eddie for the better part of a year, hopelessly pining from a distance as your social groups were miles a part. He was always so vibrant and engaging and it was hard to miss him around school. His big brown eyes, wild hair, and general disregard for societal standards had you roped in immediately but the thought of him liking you was still a foreign concept.

When he had admitted that he had been crushing on you for years before you finally started talking because of a group project, you nearly called him out on what you thought was a blatant lie. And he was adamant that the minute he saw you, sparkling eyes and witty tongue, he was sold. But your relationship was still new, unlabelled and fresh that you struggled with what was appropriate to say or do. Was it too early to be calling him every night? Could you admit you missed him when he was away?

Sometimes, however, Eddie would say something so indulgently sweet that it took your breath away for a minute and had you bursting at the seems with affection.

"Eddie," you knew your eyes were rounding, bottom lip pushing out as you felt your chest squeeze in adoration, "That was really cute. I was looking forward to calling you all day." Your admission had him humming contentedly, his wide smile so evident in his tone.

"Yeah? I kinda wish I could've called you yesterday but duty calls or whatever bullshit," he sighed, referring to his band practice that seemed to go into the late hours of the night despite Gareth's mother's disproval.

"It's okay. I know you're a busy man," you said, tracing the side of the phone as you pictured Eddie's smile.

"Not too busy for you," he let out a sheepish laugh before adding, "You could probably convince me to cancel any plan I had. Just to see you."

You felt your heart flutter.

"Stop being cute. You're distracting me. I need to ask a favor," you said.

"Ask away. The answer is already yes," he replied, voice rumbling happily over the static. He was going to make you pass away.

"Do you think you could pick me up from work? My sister isn't answering," you admitted, voice growing softer. Your eyes flickered back to the parking lot, watching the car that still sat motionless.

"I thought that Mikey kid was your ride?" he asked. If he picked up on your unease he didn't comment on it.

"He was. We kinda forgot and he left early for a date," you explained. He hummed again and you heard movement and the jangling of keys making your stomach uncoil.

"You know, I could be your ride home from now on. So you don't have to rely on loverboy," his tone was slightly sharper as he referenced your coworker.

"He's usually reliable. He got caught up in the excitement–"

"And ditched you," he interjected, huffing at his annoyance.

"He didn't mean to. I'm not mad at him," you reassured.

"Right, no, s'okay. He works tomorrow though, right?"

"Eddie," you warned but he let out a laugh.

"I'm only kidding. Partially. I'm on my way, though, so hang tight, okay? I'll be there in like ten minutes max."

You let out a breath, nodding though he couldn't see you. When you said your goodbyes you tried to visualize what Eddie was doing to distract yourself from the foreboding silence of the empty store; door swinging shut, car beeping, keys ratting, ignition starting.

True to his word, not even seven minutes later Eddie's truck was peeling into the parking lot. You had never been so happy to see his wonky rusted old truck. You hopped up, grabbing your bag and hurrying to the door. The keys jangled loudly as you locked up behind you. As you turned around, you were distracted from Eddie's wide smile as the lights from that godforsaken car suddenly turned on. You froze, watching the red car pull out, pause, and then drive out of the parking lot.

You knew he had been waiting for you. Waiting to see when you were leaving, how you were getting home, but to see it be proven made you feel a little lightheaded. Your eyes met Eddie's as he glanced over his shoulder at the retreating headlights in the distance.

"Who was that? Not that sorry punk Mikey," Eddie asked as you hopped into the passenger seat, dropping your bag to your feet.

"No, he–" you took a sudden shuttering breath that had Eddie's mood dropping significantly, "He was a customer. And he was being weird and he's been sitting in his car for the past half hour probably waiting for me to leave."

You had never seen Eddie this angry. His joking tone before about being mad at Mikey suddenly transforming into hot anger at the idea that he had left you alone for some creep to stalk you like you were his prey.

"I'm picking you up from now on, okay? You tell that son of a bitch if he does anything other than grovel at your feet for forgiveness I'm paying him a visit," he seethed, hand flexing so his rings glinted in the muted lighting.

You turned in your seat to face him, cheek resting against the headrest as you gazed up at him. His eyes were hard, jaw clenched tight and brows furrowed. You reached out a hand to cup his cheek, thumb stroking the high of his cheekbone until his face relaxed. He turned to meet your eyes, his own softening at the look you were giving him.

"I'm okay. I have a baseball bat tucked under the counter as a last minute resort," you assured, voice soft and melodic as he leaned into your palm. His hand reached out to grab your free one, linking your fingers together and squeezing.

"I don't like you being scared," he admitted.

"My fear turns to rage pretty quickly under pressure," you hoped some humor would lighten the mood and he managed to crack a small smile at your comment.

"You'll call me if you ever need anything, right?"

"Of course," you said. His eyes trailed from your abused your bottom lip from worrying it between your teeth to the tension set in your jaw.

His free hand moved up to caress yours, holding it tighter to his cheek as his other softly stroked your palm.

"I'll never let anything bad happen to you, you know that, right?" he said, eyes burning into yours, tone soft but firm. You felt a swell of emotion in your chest. You nodded but he seemed adamant to continue, like you didn't grasp the seriousness of his words.

"I don't care if it's a paper cut or a spider or if the president himself was bothering you, I'll handle it. You call me and I'm there," he pressed, leaning in closer so you could smell his smoky cologne.

You nodded again but your throat suddenly felt tight and your eyes were prickling with moisture. He clocked the tears instantly and he was leaning in, lips pressing to your forehead, hand moving to the back of your neck, weaving his fingers into the hair at the base of your head. He massaged it gently, lips trailing kisses down your temple, to your cheeks, on your nose, and finally to your lips. You didn't realize tears had fallen until he was swiping them away with his thumb.

Your free hand clenched the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as he pressed soft, comforting, sweet kisses on your face. His hand scratched your head, fingertips swirling in hypnotic circles until he was pulling back and stroking the hair out of your face. His lips found yours again, pillowy soft and warm as if they were forcing you to relax. The tension slowly eased from your body until your head felt light and your mind gooey.

All at once you wanted to say those three sacred words. You wanted to spill all of your feelings and emotions and tell him you loved him until the sun came up. You wanted to drown in him, kiss him until you didn't know your own name anymore. And you wanted him to know you were completely and utterly sold on him. He had ruined anyone else for you.

"You wanna come to mine?" he asked, his voice close to a whisper, breath fanning over your face as you wilted at the loss of his lips. You nodded, still unsure if you could form proper words, your head spinning with thoughts of him kissing you over and over again.

The drive was quick, his right hand sandwiched between both of yours as you watched the trees whir past the window. He gave you a few sideways glances, feeling his anger at your air headed coworker swirling in his stomach. But every brush of you fingers over his tense knuckles had him deflating until he was solely focused on you and your perfume and your pretty glassy eyes.

You had been in Eddie's room multiple times but most of them were to work on that school project. Only one other time had you been here after you had both admitted your feelings. And suddenly stepping into the muted lighting, eyes trailing over the myriad of band posters, piles of records and cassettes, a mountain of laundry, and his messy unmade bed had a wave of nervousness washing over you. Eddie sheepishly pulled his comforter up, haphazardly pushing a few shirts and a few books to the ground, clearing the space.

"You want a change of clothes?" he asked, pausing his movements to look at you. You blinked at him, bag already discarded by the door and nodded. You probably looked great in the polo shirt and plain jeans that your boss had you and Mikey wear for "professionalism" even though it was a gas station.

You could tell the Metallica shirt he had handed you was old because it was soft and well-worn, a few holes decorating the collar. You pulled it over your head, the material caressing your sides. You pulled on the boxers after, an unused pair he said bought in the wrong size and left to reside in the bottom of his drawer. You timidly pushed out the bathroom door, glancing down the dark hallway to where Eddie's uncle was snoring loudly on the couch before heading back to Eddie's room.

Only the bedside lamp was on now casting sleepy shadows around the room. Eddie was resting against the headboard of his bed, legs laid out, his own sleep shirt adorning his torso, rings discarded on the bedside table. His eyes found your form as you shut the door behind you, trailing up and down your clothes, his clothes, draped over your body. He had never seen anyone look so good in a T-shirt before and frankly he didn't think he ever would again. You were otherworldly to him.

Hesitantly, you crawled onto the bed, mattress dipping under your knees as you got closer. His arms instantly encircled around you, pulling you flush against him giving you no time to hesitate. You melted into him, his scent overwhelming you and his warmth fighting back the chill of the room. He pulled the duvet over the both of you, shuffling you down until you were laying before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"I was talking to Steve," he said breaking the silence, his voice rumbling into your neck making tingles run up your spine. Your arms wrapped around his torso, cheek pressing against his forehead, eyes fluttering shut as you waited for him to continue.

"He likes to give dating advice. Mostly unsolicited," he murmured, the vibrations tickling your skin. His hand trailed up your side until it found the side of your love handle peaking out from your shirt. His fingers grazed it, swirling around the velvety skin making you squirm slightly at the tickling sensation. You felt his grin.

"It's mostly all crap. All of his experience is from his shitty douchebag days. Probably why he goes on such shit dates." He pressed a kiss to your throat, his other arm tightening around your back to pull you impossibly closer. You felt your mind go gooey again at his affection.

"He did say though that," he paused and you felt him take a steadying breath, "if I waited any longer to ask you to be my girlfriend that you'd think I didn't like you anymore."

It took you a moment to move the thoughts around in your molasses mind before you processed his words.

"Which is ridiculous because even Dustin Henderson has known I've been in love with you for years," he added, fingers dipping under your shirt to draw shapes on the ridges of your ribs.

"What?" you whispered, eyes opening. His movements paused as if he himself just realized what he said. You felt him tense, hand pressing flat against your side as he let out a sigh. You pulled away from him slightly. You could tell the instant the rejection settled in his mind, his body growing tenser as he pulled back to meet your eyes. His eyes were dark, filled with hurt and worry. He tried to pull back more but your tight grip prevented him.

"You love me?" He was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering between both of yours weighing his options. You shuffled closer, grabbing his hand and placing it on your waist again, a silent command to keep drawing shapes. He softened, shifting closer as he shoved his insecurities to the back of his mind.

"If," he started, brown eyes flickering around your face, gaging every micro expression to make sure you weren't uncomfortable with his words, "If it doesn't scare you away, then yes."

He leaned in closer, breath fanning over your face, minty and cool. "If it does, then I have no idea what you're talking about." His hand squeezed your side making you let out a laugh, squirming again as a smile overtook your face. He stopped, eyes hooded as he gazed at you and your pretty smile and your warm eyes.

"Can you say it?" your voice was small, smile loosening until you were staring at him with big, vulnerable eyes. He knew then that you weren't scared. You weren't dismayed by his feelings. By the glint in your doe eyes and the way you melted at his affection, he knew you felt the same way.

"You need to answer my question first," he decided. Your brows pulled together slightly as you tried to remember what he was referring to. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your pouted lips as if he couldn't help himself. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

You felt your face flush and your pulse spike. You nodded, pressing closer hoping he would kiss you again.

"With words, baby," he insisted, hovering his lips over yours, hand moving up to stroke the swell of your cheek.

"Yes," you breathed, feeling like you might never stop blushing.

He finally leaned in and pressed a searing kiss to your lips.

"I love you," he said, hand stroking your hair back so he could kiss you deeply again and again and again, repeating the phrase between kisses like he couldn't get tired of saying it.

"I love you, too," you managed to say before he was covering your lips again, greedy for your attention.

You felt dizzy at the intensity, love drunk on Eddie and his velvet kisses and sugary words. You didn't care that it had only been three weeks and that an English project that you both barely managed to get a C on had been the catalyst. You had loved Eddie for a year and he had loved you for more and you'd be damned if you waited any longer to tell him you loved him over and over and over again.

Link to my masterlist :)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x y/n

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