Random Simp Book (one shots, imagines, etc.)

Trust: Armo x Reader

A/N: reader insert of a little bit of Villain, you're also a Rockborn, also more fuckboy armo hehe, very self indulgent because almost everyone here doesn't even know who he is

Warnings: swearing, kissing

Word count: 1070

The three of you - Dekka, Armo, and you crash in a suite at Caesars Palace resort after a lady called Wilkes decided to help. The moonlight oozes through a crack in the curtain, and you rub your eyes furiously, wishing your hyperactive brain would just chill and shut down because you know you'll need all the sleep you can get. You roll over, away from the window, and your eyes fall on Armo's broad back, rising and falling gently, his skin looking way too tantalizing than it should be.

Huffing, you grit your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut. No, you tell yourself. Don't think about him. Because if you do; if you let yourself want him; you'll end losing the friendship between the two of you, he'll fuck you over and... You realised this ages ago, yet it still hurts in times like this, when you look at him and he's suddenly perfect, suddenly all you ever wanted. But you refuse to let yourself believe this, refuse to make your relationship anything more than friends. Sure, best friends, but nothing else.

You roll until you lie on your back, staring up at the gaudily decorated ceiling, fisting the sheets in your hands, wondering if you'll get any sleep tonight. Definitely not if you carry on thinking about Armo like you are now.

'Hey, Y/N.'

You jump somewhere near a foot above your bed and you're halfway through unconsciously morphing before your brain identifies the whisper as belonging to Armo. De - morphing, you untangle your legs from the sheets and glare over at him.

'What? You scared the hell out of me!' You hiss.
'I can tell,' he answers, then chuckles infuriatingly under his breath. 'Can't sleep?'
'No,' you pout.

'C'mere.' He lifts up the blanket, gifting you with a glimpse of a muscled body wearing nothing but boxers, painted a tempting silver in the semi light. A tingle runs up your spine, and you know you shouldn't, shouldn't tempt yourself any more than you already are by being his friend, but you find yourself slipping out from your sheets and tucking yourself under his outstretched arm. Sure, you've cuddled like this before, but never with him - or you - as undressed as this.

Armo wraps a powerful arm around your waist, and you close your eyes and bury your face into his chest, one palm flat against his heart, your legs tangled together, just like always, except now you can feel almost every inch of his smooth, warm skin against yours. You bite down on your lip, stifling something close to a mewl when one of his large hands rubs down your spine, then back up, thumb accidentally catching on your bra strap.

'Sorry,' he murmurs, breath ruffling your hair, and you close your eyes, lashes brushing his chest.
'I - it's okay,' you force out, and you know then that he hears the shake in your voice, feels your tightly clenched fist behind his back. You grit your teeth, waiting for his reaction, but he's silent, thoughtful, for a moment, before he speaks, gently pulling away so he can see your face, but you hide it in the pillow.

'Hey, I can feel, you're panicking.' He taps his chest. 'Heart racing. And you're breathing about twice the normal speed.' He gently strokes the side of your face. 'Look at me, please.'
You shake your head. 'No.'
'Why're you panicking?'
You look up at him. 'Why'd you think? I know you know, Armo.' Your voice cracks.
'Now you're afraid?' He says, not quite sure of his statement, so adding a questioning tone to it.

Your lower lip trembles. 'I...' You force yourself to breathe slowly. 'Now you know how I feel, Armo, and now I'm scared that you'll... you'll leave me - ' You abruptly cut yourself off, shaking  your head. 'I'm sorry, I - I - '
Armo's blue eyes blaze like fire. 'No,' he says lowly. 'No. I won't leave you. You're - you're different from them.'
'Different from all the other girls you've fucked over, huh?'
He looks down, and for once, there's something like shame in his eyes. 'I... I've never wanted to hurt you, Y/N. I'd never...'
'I trust you with my life, Armo,' you answer. 'But I - I don't know if I should trust you with my heart.'
He looks at you with profound sadness in his eyes. 'I know.'
His voice cracks, and it breaks your heart. You grab his shoulder, dimly feeling the muscles shifting beneath the skin. 'I - I want to trust you.'
He nods. 'I want you to trust me, too.'

And suddenly, you're done. Done with being scared. Done with skirting around Armo like he's a minefield. Done with trying to kill your emotions for him. So you hook an arm around his neck and you kiss him. He goes rigid, tense, until he relaxes and wraps his arms tightly around you, one hand running down your spine and pressing into the small of your back, holding you to him. You push your hands into his hair, silver in the moonlight, and hook a leg around his waist, melting into him as his tongue slips into your mouth. Choking out his name against his soft lips, your hands ball into fists in his hair, your body arching up of it's own accord -

'First things first, that is absolutely disgusting. Like, the talking was okay, because I couldn't hear what you guys were saying, but then someone made their move and the sound effects are disgusting. Secondly, I'm guessing you thought I was asleep, and making out with me sleeping and unaware is also disgusting, let alone with me awake. And before you interrupt, it would be nice if Y/N could walk tomorrow.'

Armo sits up, but you hide under the covers, blushing, guilty that you forgot Dekka was even in the room.

' - sorry,' you hear Armo say. 'We'll shut up now.' He manhandles you out from under the covers and you give Dekka a sheepish grin before burrowing back under.
'God knows how you're even fitting on that bed with Armo in it as well,' she mutters.
He smiles his sweet, goofy grin and encircles you in his arms, pulling you close against his chest and burying his face in your hair, murmuring something you almost don't hear.

'Even if you don't trust me with your heart, I'll always trust you with mine.'