#and kept falling off when she tried and it just was horrible and i hated it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

generalllimaginesss · 4 months

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"I'm not letting you drive home in this condition” with Nico. I feel like he gives off protective energy. I’m imagining friends to lovers vibes. He falls first but they’re best friends. Maybe they met when he joined the Devils. Like randomly met somewhere and have been close ever since. And she has a really bad day at work. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. And she’s crying driving home and drives to his instead because she doesn’t want to be alone. Maybe he makes dinner (idk if this man can cook tbh) and then she’s still upset but tries to leave so he can get on with his night and he insists she stay because he doesn’t want her driving upset. And that’s when she realizes she’s in love with him. Like she drove to his place unannounced because she knew he was the only one who could comfort her and the only one she wanted to go to.

I’ve realized that I’m a sucker for Nico. He gives off golden retriever vibes and I feel like he would be such a nice person to be friends with. I hope you like it!!

••

You didn’t realize when you picked up your friends shift, now making you a double, that you would make very little money and the tables that you served were horrible. Not to mention your anxiety was at an all time high while you were waiting on a letter to tell you if you were accepted into the graduate program to your dream school. When all of these emotions combine, it makes for a shitty day.

Twelve hours after you clocked in, you were only up $150 dollars and finally were able to leave, your last table staying almost an hour after closing. There was dried sauces all over your uniform, your hair was disgusting, and you just felt heavy. With your emotions clouding your judgement, all you wanted to do was go to sleep.

As you made your way to your car that was parked behind the restaurant you worked at, a couple of notifications from your email caught your eye. The emails came from the two schools that you were betting your future on…

You decided it could hold off, the tears burning the corner of your eyes took priority, and you didn’t know if you could handle what the emails revealed.

While running your hands through your tangled mess of hair, tears freely fell, the product of being completely exhausted. The one person that kept flashing in your mind, however, was Nico. The devils played Anaheim and you weren’t able to keep up with the score, so you wanted to congratulate him on the win.

As much as you hated your job, you always reminded yourself that it was temporary, and most of all that without it you wouldn’t have Nico. The one person in the world that felt as lonely as you at one point on a rainy afternoon 6 years ago.

When Nico had first gotten to New Jersey, he didn’t feel close to anybody. Sure, he was the first overall draft pick. Sure, people loved him. But at the end of the day he felt like he had nobody. He felt like he had to keep this persona of “Mr. Tough Guy” up to prove himself.

He found himself all alone in the restaurant you work at, managing to snag you as a server. He must’ve sat at your table for hours, always finding something else to talk about every time you checked on him. He stayed until you got off and proposed the idea of going out to grab a drink or two, to which you happily obliged, finally hopeful that you found a friend.

Where Nico felt lonely in hockey, you felt lonely in school. Making friends in college was hard, especially when you’re from out of state and aren’t in Greek Life or in any extracurriculars. Your roommate and you had hardly had 10 conversations in the first year you lived together, so your studies became your main priority.

When Nico and you realized that you had a lot more in common than you thought, the friendship just developed naturally. When you were off work you supported him at his games. When he had a day off he helped you make flash cards and study. And on the rare chance that you both had nothing to do, movie nights were your thing.

Six years later and he was your very best friend. You told him everything. Every detail of your life was known by Nico and vice versa. You weren’t dependent on Nico for emotional support, but he was sweet to have around.

Tonight, however, was going to be one of those nights where you just needed somebody. You just needed Nico.

The tears cleared your eyes long enough for you to send Nico a quick text letting him know that you were headed to his apartment. He immediately responded with a thumbs up.

While you were driving, just about every depressing Olivia Rodrigo and Gracie Abram song played, reminding you of your relationship that had ended almost a month ago. You felt bad because Nico already had to deal with the mess you were then, and here you are again. Driving to his apartment, an emotional wreck and tired of the world.

You parked beside his car and walked up the flight of stairs that led to his door. You barely were able to knock when he opened the door and saw the state you were in. He could tell that you had been crying, probably only stopping when you parked, and that you needed somebody.

“Come here,” he held his arms opened in the doorway, enveloping you in the coziest embrace, the smell of his body wash lingering from his shower. Since he towered over you, he gently held your head against his chest and rested his head on yours, placing light pecks to the crown of your head.

He held you like that until you pulled away and made your way completely into his apartment, him closing and locking the door behind you.

He watched quietly as you made yourself at home, taking your shoes off and untucking your shirt from your pants. He chuckled to himself when he saw that you were wearing completely mismatched socks. He loved the quirky things that you did.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to congratulate you on the win,” your voice was nasally since you had been crying so hard and your nose was stopped up.

Nico smiled sadly, not wanting to make you feel worse, but aware he should probably tell you the truth.

“We lost, actually. Five to one.”

You groaned, disappointed in yourself that you didn’t bother to look up the score to make sure they won.

“I’m sorry. I worked a double and wasn’t able to watch. I just assumed with Anaheim’s record that you all would win.”

“Yeah, well, it just didn’t end up in our favor. They played pretty physical. You should go back and watch it,” He winked at you, a smile stretching from one corner of his mouth.

“But anyways, what’s wrong? I know you didn’t come here to just congratulate me on ‘winning,” he looked you up and down, taking note of the exhaustion that spewed from you.

“It just wasn’t a good day. I didn’t make money and then on the way over here music that reminded me of-” You tried to finish, but Nico immediately cut you off, reminding you of a relatively new rule that he had made.

“We don’t speak his name,” his eyebrows raised, warning you to not finish your sentence.

You sighed, “Ok, well you know who I’m referring to.”

Nico walked to his sofa, plopping down and patting the spot beside him , offering it to you. You happily obliged, tucking one leg underneath you and the other tucked into your chest.

“They emailed me back…the schools,” you announced, to which Nico instantly perked up.

“And? Did you get in?” A part of him wanted to see you live your dream, but he knew that with you getting into your dream school would mean you would be leaving New Jersey. More specifically, leaving him. The thought of not having you only 15 minutes away made him want to punch a wall. He had let himself fall for you, knowing that while New Jersey was home for him, it was merely a checkpoint for you. It was one step closer to you taking off in life.

“I didn’t look. I’m scared to,” You admitted, pulling out your phone and handing it to him.

“Please read it for me.”

He clicked on the email, his expression hard to read.

He didn’t want to read the news to you. He didn’t want to be the one that told you that you had been waitlisted by the two schools you were betting on, but he knew it was better for him to read it to you than you read it alone.

When you figured he had ample time to read both emails and he wasn’t telling you anything, a pit in your stomach began to take place. Tears quickly puddled, spilling over your bottom eyelid as if they were a never ending fountain.

“I didn’t get in, did I?” Your voice broke, in return breaking a little piece of Nico.

“Waitlisted by both, but that’s not a no,” He tried to make you feel better, but when your body started shaking and the tears turned into sobs, he knew you needed to be held. He obliged, wrapping his arm around your side, pulling you closer to him and rubbing your side soothingly.

You instinctively laid your head on his side, wanting to curl into him as closely as you could, as if he could protect you from everything that’s wrong in the world. Everything that felt like it was out to get you.

“Have you had anything to eat?” He knew as soon as he asked it that you wouldn’t want to eat. He also knew that if you had been working all day that you wouldn’t take the time to stop and eat.

He felt you shake your head side to side, confirming what he already knew.

“I was about to make a quick dinner. I was thinking breakfast? Maybe some pancakes, eggs and bacon?” He ran his fingers through your hair, deciding to take your ponytail holder out and place it on his wrist. You sighed, the relief from the tension of your ponytail helping you feel slightly better.

“Please,” you said, knowing he was going to ask you if you wanted some either way. No matter if you made it into your dream schools or not, you still had to eat.

Nico slowly peeled himself off the couch, finally realizing how exhausted he was. Back-to-back games finally catching up with him.

You followed him to the kitchen, claiming stake to one of the barstools, watching him as he began to prepare the food.

“I know you probably don’t know, but what’s your backup plan? Are you going to apply to other schools?” He asked, cracking eggs into a bowl with pancake mix.

“No. I’ll have to wait until next year. I’m stuck here for another year, Nico,” your voice was strained and scratchy, but he understood you.

“That’s not all bad is it? I mean I’m here,” he attempted to make you laugh, but it was to no avail.

“My roommate is moving back home and I literally have no one else who I think I could room with. We both planned on this being it for Jersey,” you laughed, not out of humor, but at the thought of how much has gone wrong in 12 hours.

“What about staying with me?” He asked the question before he could catch himself. Would you see straight through to his true feelings for you, or would you just think he was extending a friendly offer to one of his friends who needed a little help.

“Nico, why the hell would you want me to move in with you? Have you met me?” Your puffy eyes made eye contact with his sweet ones.

Oh, how absolutely clueless you were. It would have been cute had it not been his feelings for you in the mix.

“You’re not that bad. I’ve definitely had worse roommates.” He smiled as he flipped the pancakes on the griddle and placed the eggs in a pan on the stove to cook.

“I can’t accept your pity offer,” you reached across the counter for a paper towel to catch the snot that was creeping out of your nose.

“Don’t think of it as a pity offer. Think of it as…what’s that word for when it’s not a parasite, but both things benefit?” He looked to the ceiling as if it held the answer to his missing word.

You laughed, finding it cute that he sometimes can’t think of the right English word he’s looking for.

“Mutualism?” You pitch the word to him, to which he points to you enthusiastically.

“That! Think of it as that. I mean, I could use a little help around here,” he motioned to his apartment.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that. I’d have to think about it,” Your tears were becoming manageable with him trying to make you feel better. You’d internally think about everything that went wrong and tears would brim again, but when Nico talked it made it better.

“Well think about it,” he said, his bacon looking a tiny bit burnt as he transferred it from the pan to a dish to serve to you along with some scrambled eggs and a pancake.

You began to dig in to the food, Nico following close behind you as he fixed his plate and sat beside you. The two of you ate in silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but a peaceful silence. It allowed for you to think and for him to think about you. He wanted to feel sad about you not getting into the graduate program, but a whole extra year with you? He couldn’t be too upset.

The two of you finished eating and washed your dishes, putting them up, Nico returning to the living room on the sofa and you putting your shoes back on.

“What are you doing?” Nico asked, his eyebrows raised inquisitively as he watched you tie your shoes.

“I’ve got to go home,” you said as you stretched your back.

“I’m not letting you drive home in this condition,” He started, ready to pitch his case for you to stay the night.

“You’re tired, upset, and you don’t need to be by yourself right now. Stay with me,” His eyes were practically begging you, but his tone was stern, evident that he would not be budging.

“I have no clothes-”

“I have some t-shirts.”

“I need to wash my hair and I have no shampoo or conditioner.”

“Nina left some here, use hers,” Nico had a solution to all of your excuses, making you realize that there really wasn’t a reason why you couldn’t spend the night.

“Just stay,” His voice was barely above a whisper, wrapping itself around your heart as you caved into him.

“Fine,” you sighed.

He showed you where all of Nina’s products were and laid out one of his old t-shirts on the counter in the bathroom. It was long enough to be a dress on you, swallowing you whole.

He ran the water for you and left you in the bathroom by yourself, causing you to let out a few silent sobs before getting in the shower, letting the hot water wash away the things you have no control over. You tried to think about the positives. You had Nico for another year.

Nico. Nico Hischier that held up your table all of those years ago. Nico Hischier that helped you study for every stupid exam you had. Nico Hischier that always ran to you first after every home game. Your Nico. Your best friend. The one that always had an open shoulder for you to cry on and open arms when you needed a hug.

Did guys treat girls like this that they just loved as friends? You sure as hell had never had one like him.

While thinking about all that Nico has been there for, tears begin to fall. It hit you like a ton of bricks, the possibility that Nico could be more than a friend. Would he feel the same? Would these newly discovered feelings be the downfall of your friendship?

Just as quick as the feelings surfaced, you shut it down. Nico meant too much to you for you to lose him over selfish feelings. Everything was perfect with him and your stupid little crush would not ruin that.

While you continued to shower, Nico changed the sheets on his bed, putting on fresh ones from the dryer so that you would be warm when you got in. He decided he would take the couch.

The smile that he had hidden while consoling you appeared as he prepared his apartment for you for the night. He thought about the possibility that you might move in with him, relishing in the idea that he could see you everyday when he woke up and at night when he went to sleep. Never ending movie nights and having his best friend 24/7…what possibly could be better?

You being his girlfriend. Would that come in time? Did he need to tell you his feelings or keep them to himself?

He had always been able to conceal his feelings, the fear of losing you greater than the pain of only being your friend. That had worked out fine, but when you rounded the corner of the hallway into the living room with his shirt hanging right above your knees and a pair of his long socks bunched on your leg, his breath hitched.

He let his eyes take in everything about you. The way your hair curled at the nape of your neck from the water, the random bruises that decorated your legs from being clumsy, a few pimples that dusted your face, only visible when your makeup was not, the random bit of mascara that you hadn’t managed to wash off.

He wanted you. He wanted you forever. He wanted you as his wedding date, his girl at the games. He wanted to share holidays with you, exchange anniversary gifts and plan birthday parties with you.

Everything in life he wanted to do with you.

“I can’t do this anymore,” He announced as he walked over to your small frame.

You were confused, about to open your mouth to ask him what he meant, but as soon as you realized he was leaning down to kiss you, your eyes grew wide in shock. His kiss cleared up what he meant.

He cupped your face with his hands, each thumb resting on your cheekbones as he very slightly pulled you closer to him.

Your lips moved in synch, making up for years of him loving you.

He noticed that you had a chapped spot on your lip, but he didn’t mind. The taste of strawberries from your lipstick from earlier lingered, causing him to deepen the kiss, never wanting to forget that taste.

You pulled away, needing to breathe. His eyes were still the soft brown ones that you loved, but you could tell that they looked at you differently from how you thought they did. Just standing in a t shirt and socks, they made you feel like the prettiest girl in the world.

A smile pulled at your lips, causing him to follow, his dimple making an appearance on his face. His scruff itched your face, but you didn’t mind.

“I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that I’m upset you didn’t get into school because I’m not. Call me selfish or whatever, but I need you. You keep me grounded. I want you here with me. Move in here, find something to do while you wait to reapply. I just know there’s nobody else that I love the way I love you,” he ended his confession with a kiss to your forehead.

“Ok,” You whispered, not wanting the warmth of his body to ever be far from you.

“I love you, little lady. A lot more than you realize,” He smirked at the blush that spread across your cheeks, the rosy pink that highlighted your skin revealing the effect that this boy has on you.

He pulled you into him, hugging you as if you would be gone any second and he couldn’t let you go.

When he finally did let you go, you both hopped into his bed and began watching Harry Potter, starting with The Prisoner of Azkaban since he knew that was your favorite one.

You fell asleep first, your head resting on his chest as he scratched your back. When he noticed the soft snores escaping your mouth, he smiled to himself. This was how it was meant to be. You and him.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier imagine

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starkwlkr · 1 year

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Could you do one where Ruby is dating someone and she really likes him and Charles approves of him but Ruby finds out that he was only with her to get to her dad and she blames her dad for the fame and hates that he’s famous but they make up :)) Sorry it’s long i love your writing❤️

don’t fall in love | charles leclerc

ruby defender until i dieeeee‼️‼️

Ruby adored her boyfriend, Mason, with her whole heart. At just sixteen years old, Ruby had declared Mason the love of her life. Y/n thought that was a bit too early for her to even think that, but Ruby was convinced that she and Mason were going to end up married. She was blinded by love. She couldn’t tell that their relationship was always a one sided love, that Mason saw her as just Charles Leclerc’s daughter. Even her twelve year old brother, Mathéo, could see that Mason only cared about one thing and that was fame.

Growing up, Ruby’s every move was captured by the paparazzi. It was the downside of having a famous father. She learned to ignore it, but sometime it was just too much. Mason saw it as an opportunity to ‘make a name for himself’. He was counting down the days for when he went from ‘Ruby Leclerc’s boyfriend’ to ‘Mason, Charles Leclerc’s son in law’ or something like that. For him, it would be a dream to be part of the Leclerc family, so when he was finally invited to his first F1 race, he posted it all over social media.

It was during the British Grand Prix that Ruby finally found out the horrible truth.

She had picked out a cute outfit wanting to impress Mason. The boy didn’t bother giving her one compliment all day. She brushed it off thinking he was tired from the flight. Mason’s ‘tiredness’ was long gone once they entered the paddock. Photographers recognized Ruby and called her name out. Mason took the opportunity to put his arm around her shoulder and fake a smile.

“Where’s your dad?” Mason asked as they walked towards the Ferrari hospitality.

“I’m not sure. I think he’s in the garage.” Ruby replied.

“Let’s go say hi. I want to wish him good luck before the race.” Mason practically dragged Ruby towards the Ferrari garage.

Ruby said hello to the Ferrari engineers while Mason dragged her by her hand to where Charles was. He was talking with Y/n, who held Mathéo’s hand since he was shy when it came to race days.

“Papa!” Ruby greeted her father with a kiss on both cheeks.

“Hey, man. Good luck. I’m sure you’ll get your points today.” Mason said to Charles.

Charles liked Mason. He was responsible, nice and most of all, he was respectful to his little girl. Good qualities for Ruby’s first boyfriend.

Y/n had noticed that Ruby tried to talk with Charles, but Mason kept cutting her off. She was 50/50 on Mason. He seemed like a nice guy, but as Y/n got to know him better, his true colors started showing.

“Maman, can we got to the roof? I like it better there.” Mathéo asked.

“Of course, my beautiful boy. Ruby, want to join your brother and i on the roof?” Y/n asked her daughter.

“Uh, let me ask Mason if he wants to go.” Ruby replied, but she could barely get Mason’s attention. He was too busy talking about tyres with Charles. Ruby felt embarrassed. She couldn’t even get her own boyfriend’s attention.

“We’ll be on the roof,” Y/n said to Ruby. She turned to Charles, who definitely payed attention to his wife. “Good luck, love. I love you.” Y/n kissed Charles’ lips then kissed his cheek.

“Thank you, Mon amour. And where are you going, mon petit garçon?” (My little boy) Charles looked at his son. “Take care of your maman, okay?” He kissed Mathéo’s forehead. Mathéo nodded and hugged his father. Soon, the mom and son were on the way to the paddock roof.

“My mom and brother are going up to the roof. Would you like to go? It’s a great view. You get to see the pitstop-” Mason cut off Ruby.

“Can’t we stay in the garage?” Mason asked.

“We can, but-”

“Great. Hey, so what’s your next helmet design?” Mason went back to talking with Charles.

Ruby nodded. She looked around the garage she had been in a million times. Same team, same car, same tyres, same everything. At least she had Mason. (For now)

When the race started, she and Mason were handed their headsets. They watched as Charles had started on pole with Max right behind him.

Ruby had enough of racing. She had seen it on tv and in real life many times so she was a bit bored. Mason, on the other hand, was enjoying every second of it. When Charles almost made contact with Max, he shouted as if he was the team principal. Some Ferrari team members were even looking at him funny.

“It’s his first race.” Ruby whispered to them. She then looked at Mason. “Calm down. You’re getting weird looks.”

“Babe, it’s f1. You can’t calm down when f1 is involved.” Mason replied.

Ruby sighed. She took her headset off and walked to her father’s drivers room. She sat on the small bed and took out her phone. As she scrolled through instagram, she got a message from a school friend.

‘Isn’t this your boyfriend?’ They had sent a screenshots of Mason’s close friends list.

Team redbull? Secured paddock passes for life? Ruby had enough.

‘Ex-boyfriend. We broke up.’ She texted back.

‘Ok queen. Drag him’

And that’s exactly what Ruby did.

She knew Mason wouldn’t leave the garage mid race so she thought of the perfect way to get him out.

‘Hey, babe! Lewis Hamilton is outside! He says he wants to meet you.’

Lewis had retired from racing so using him was perfect. It didn’t take long for Mason to be right outside the garage wondering where Lewis Hamilton was.

“Hey, where’s Lewis? I want him to sign my phone case.” Mason said when he saw Ruby.

“He’s not here and he’s sure as hell not signing any of your shit.” Ruby glared.

“Okay we’ll I’m going back to watch the race.” Mason tried walking back into the garage, but Ruby stepped infront of him. “Babe, move. Your dad is still p1. We’ve got to support him.”

“You’re not going in. This is for the Ferrari family only, which you’re not apart of. Go see if that redbull girl will let you into their garage.”

Mason started laughing. “That’s what you’re mad about? Baby, I was joking! I’m a Ferrari fan all the way. Now, come on, let’s go watch your dad win.”

“No. You’re not welcome here or at any race ever again.” Ruby said. “Give me the pass and get out.”

“You don’t mean that, babe. You’re just tired from the flight. Take a nap and we’ll talk later.” Mason was about to put a hand on her shoulder, but she quickly punched his face. “What the fuck! Shit!” He held his bloody nose.

“I said get out!” Ruby yelled then ripped the paddock pass from his neck.

“You’re a fucking bitch anyways!” Mason yelled back as he walked away to the exit.

Ruby kept an eye on him until he actually left the paddock. She then noticed a few photographers and team members from Aston Martin and Alpine looking at her. “What?” She asked them harshly. They continued walking, afraid that Ruby might punch them next.

“Stupid boys.” She muttered as she walked to the paddock roof where she finally joined her mother and brother. She spent the rest of the race wishing she never let Mason make her fall in love. She hated herself for that.

“Papa! He won!” Mathéo jumped from his mother’s lap. “We need to see the ceremony! Let’s go!” The boy whined.

“You saw the ceremony last week, Mathéo! Nothing changed.” Ruby coldly said.

“Ruby Jules, apologize to your brother. Don’t be mad at him for being excited.” Y/n scolded the teen girl.

“What? It’s the truth. Dad is on the podium every race with uncle Max and uncle Carlos. It’s a stupid ceremony anyways with stupid trophies and stupid Ferrari.” Ruby mumbled. When she had enough, she got up and walked back down.

“She said stupid three times, maman.” Mathéo said.

“I know and don’t say that. You know grand-mère doesn’t like those kind of words.”

After the ceremony, Y/n had told Charles what had happened with Ruby so he told his wife he would talk to Ruby.

“It has to do with Mason so please don’t say anything . . . stupid.” Y/n whispered the last part since Mathéo was around and if she said it she would look like the world biggest hypocrite.

“Okay, I won’t. I’ll meet you at the teams hospitality.” Charles said and kissed his wife once more before leaving to find his daughter.

He was told by Fred that he saw Ruby enter his driver’s room so he headed towards the said room. He knocked three times before he opened the door. Charles saw Ruby sitting on a chair scrolling on her phone. She remained silent, clearly angry at everything.

“I saw you weren’t at the ceremony.” Charles said. “I didn’t see Mason either.”

“Mason can go to hell.”

“Okay, what did he do to my little girl?”

Ruby groaned. “He wouldn’t have done anything if it weren’t for you! Why did you have to be a f1 driver! You could’ve been an architect or a stay at home dad. Mason was only with me to get to you, dad. And not just Mason, so many people at school want to be ‘friends’ because of my last name. I should’ve taken mom’s last name.”

Charles watched as Ruby stormed out of the room, leaving the door open. He knew how being in the spotlight was for her. He tried to keep her away from the media, but it was impossible now that she was grown.

“Hey, Y/n is asking for you.” He heard an engineer tell him.

“Thank you.” He mumbled as he exited his driver’s room. He could feel a couple of stares from the team, but he ignored them. He spotted Y/n and Mathéo by his car since Charles had promised the boy he could sit in it. “She hates me. Again.” Charles told Y/n. “She said she’d rather have your last name than mine.”

“I’ll talk to her. Théo wants you.” Y/n sighed. She left Charles and Théo as she went to look for Ruby. An Alpine engineer had told her Ruby’s location, which was their teams hospitality. She entered and saw Ruby sitting by herself eating ice cream.

“Your father told me that you don’t like being a Leclerc.” Y/n sat beside Ruby.

“I didn’t mean it. I just . . . I just want something normal. Mason was only with me because of my famous dad.”

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. Boys are jerks, believe me.” Y/n comforted the girl.

“Even dad?”

“Sometimes.” Y/n lightly chuckled.

“Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to tell me not to tell him?”

“No, he knows.”

Ruby cracked a smile. “I feel like a jerk. I love being a Leclerc. I love my family, maman. What if dad hates me forever and then I can’t go back home and I have to live on the street?”

“You’re so dramatic, Ruby Jules, I can’t tell if you get that from me or your father.” Y/n said.

“Definitely both of you, but Charles is extremely dramatic.” She heard Pierre say as he placed a kiss on Ruby’s temple. “At least you don’t need a dna test for this one.”

“Why are you here?”

“You’re in the Alpine hospitality and you’re asking why I’m here?”

“Bye, Pierre!” Y/n practically pushed him away so she could continue her talk with Ruby. “Your father knows how much you love him and he would never put you on the street.”

“He might.”

“He won’t.”

“But he could.”

“He’s not.”

“But-”

“You kids are going to be the death of me,” Y/n rolled her eyes.

“Sorry, force of habit, you know how uncle Arthur and I are.” Ruby apologized. “I have to find dad.”

Eventually Ruby did apologize to Charles for saying she wished she wasn’t a Leclerc. In the end, the family agreed that Mason was an asshole and Charles even managed to ban him from any race from both f1 and f2. Nobody was mean to his kids and Mason had crossed the line.

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #anon #charles leclerc one shot #cl16 x reader #baby leclerc series #charles leclerc imagine

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kneelingshadowsalome · 6 months

Text

Ok but what if I had to continue this story about Knight!Ghost and Presumptuous maiden!reader

She can still feel his breath on her, but the huge body pinning her to the wall ceases to move.

"...What?"

It’s pure shock.

She’s dropped so quickly she has to take support from the stones behind her.

She wouldn’t have to: Simon grabs her by the arm and prevents her from falling forward and back towards that plated chest. His eyes search for hers, and she looks up at the knight who almost raped her – in the corridor of all places like she’s nothing but a common whore. But for the first time ever there’s genuine shock, even fear in his stare. The remnants of lust flicker back alive every now and then, but mostly he looks like she just hurled a powerful curse at him when she told him she’s a virgin.

"I'm sorry,” she tries. “I’ll–I’ll never do it again. I promise."

"Bloody fucking…"

He looks her up and down, the leather straps of his armour wailing from his still heaving chest. She should bolt, now, when Simon has taken a step away from her and is clearly puzzled and confused. But she can’t: those eyes rise to hold her captive again. And now, there’s anger in them.

"You should be whipped."

"For what...?"

Her chest is heaving, too. She never knew how low her voice could get when there's want in the air and in her veins.

"You attacked me, sir. I should have you whipped," she continues like an absolute fool.

"Don't test me, girl," he slurs behind bared teeth. She finally remembers how to shut up.

"Tsk."

Simon nudges his head towards the stairway leading to her quarters. Get out while you can, the gesture says, and she gathers the hem of her heavy woollen dress and flees.

She never believed her miserable begging would stop or sway him. Simon is bound by oath and honour, or then he doesn’t want his master’s wrath upon him. Her worth is between her legs; they both know it. Defiling the king’s daughter could lose him his head.

She climbs the stairs, slips into her room and bolts the door. It should probably be strange that she’s left aching by what just happened. It should make her wake up from her silly dreams, that the only thing stopping this man from raping her is other men, not her feelings and sensibilities.

It should be considered a doom, not fate, that she only wants him more.

…

Simon never participates in the tournaments, but this time, rumour has it that he’s planning to join.

In a distressed hurry, she makes preparations for the great day. There can be no other reason for him to joust other than the wish to win her favour back. His actions speak louder than any words, and just for the sake of that, she has kept her promise. She walks the halls as if the knight called Simon never even existed. She won’t look his way even when he has his back turned on her. She only dreams about him when the moon is full and there are no more candles burning in her lonely room.

But it’s hard.

It’s difficult, and it’s a horrible fate she has to suffer, because now it’s he who can’t keep his eyes off her. Now it’s Simon who has suddenly caught her scent, who is suddenly interested in dangerous, stupid sports such as jousting that could injure or kill a man. But he’s willing to do the thing he apparently hates most – along with the fevered attention of insufferable, flirtatious maidens – because he needs a token of her favour. She’s sure of it: that’s why she embroiders a tiny ‘S’ on her finest, most precious handkerchief.

The tournament day is as beautiful as can be. Her heart is about to rend itself out of her chest when Simon approaches her, riding across the field in his heaviest grey armour. He’s surrendering himself at her mercy, and at the mercy of other people’s ridicule, rumour and gossip by making it known that he thinks himself worthy of her blessing. She wonders if she’s the one being played now: she can’t decipher why he would refuse her one day, then fight to gain her favour the next.

He accepts her silken handkerchief with a blank expression, but his eyes betray the inner turmoil when he sees the embroidery. A plain, simple token would have sufficed – the adorned ‘S’ is a bit too much, it's a clear sign. It’s ten times more clear than her earlier games, ten times more blaring than her vivacious little flirt. She could've embroidered the sentence “If you come up to my room at nightfall, I will let you in,” on it and the meaning would've been just as obvious.

He tucks it under his breastplate and gives her a sideways look that is filled with both distaste and longing. Only Simon can speak entire sentences through his eyes. They say, “You’ve gone too far,” and “If I come out of this alive, you’ll get whipped, or fucked, or both.”

And one thing she never knew about Simon was that he could joust better than anyone. There’s one dead, three wounded and five humiliated by the time Simon is declared the winner of the tournament. Everyone understands now why he never joins these things: he will only rob the fun of other knights by toying with them.

Her chosen one accepts the king’s words and the crowd’s applause with a stern but slightly painful expression. Simon would rather be anywhere but here, but endures being the centre of attention for the rest of the afternoon like a good, patient dog. Then he disappears somewhere, done with being the sudden pet of the people. The next time she sees him is in the morning as she descends the stairs.

“Fawn.”

She flinches from the now familiar dark voice. He’s been waiting for her, and almost prowls forth from the shadows when she’s floating down the steps. There’s a good few feet between them, but she can feel the heat emanating from him. Simon is always blazing like the sun, and he's always tired, downright exhausted, encumbered by pain or something worse.

“Do you always forget your promises so quickly?”

She corrects her posture under his tall shadow; she should’ve known there would be consequences for that handkerchief.

"What crime have I committed now?"

Simon never expects it when she fights back. Long, pale lashes cover the brief bafflement in his eyes, then he reaches for something under his tunic. Her heart skips a beat – he has kept it against his skin, right over his heart, instead of under the plate where he tucked it at the joust.

"This belongs to you," he holds it between them like it’s nothing but a piece of dirty cotton he wants to get rid of. Or then he doesn’t want to stain it with his hands – who knows? This man is so full of contradictions she’s having a hard time getting to the bottom of his soul. She has all the time in the world to study different characters here in the castle, but Simon remains a tightly locked mystery.

"No,” she lifts her chin proudly. “It belongs to you."

His nostrils flare for a moment – a sign of anger or exhilaration; you’d need a powerful witch to tell.

“A knight should return the lady’s favour if he survives the joust,” he mutters, clearly trying to make an effort to speak finely to a fine lady.

“You don’t have to. I made it for you.”

He grunts with frustration, then shoves her gift back inside his tunic. Then he tilts his head. A strange, dark little smile rises on his lips.

"Fawn. Did your father ever beat you?"

It’s only morning, but Simon makes it feel like they’re having this conversation in the cold, damp dungeons. Her heart shudders at the foul words, and yet, she fights to maintain eye contact. She fights both tooth and nail to look straight into the abyss.

"No."

"I can tell."

Insolent bastard, is her first thought at such audacity, but two can play this game, is the second. She takes a slow step forward and rejoices silently when Simon struggles to remain still.

"If I was your wife…" she starts softly, "Would you beat me?"

His nostrils flare again as he looks for a trap where there is none. She’s standing before him without any shields, with no weapons, and he still can’t tell, the poor man.

"I don't beat women," he finally spits. Then he succumbs to the impulse to get away from her, although it looks like he’s struggling to do so, too. He has to wrench himself free, and it gives her more power to rise rooted: to meet his crude manners, the arrogance of a dog.

"You'd never be my wife," is the last thing he says, so quietly that it’s nothing but a mutter; a sullen whisper. The birds have fallen silent, or then she can’t hear them anymore. The golden light that pours from the narrow windows makes it suddenly seem like this morning could last an eternity.

"Why not?" She whispers back.

The moment shatters – her knight escapes like he’s the fragile little fawn now. The clatter of his armour makes it known how much of a hurry he’s in to get away from the golden light... And from her.

#not so dark as the first one but still kinda dark #medieval au #knight!ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader

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fag4dykestobin · 7 months

Text

yesterday, i wrote a little snippet of a steve coming out scene that had been living in my head for a bit, and i thought that that was it. and then i kept writing little snippets until this was nearly 3k words long <3 so. enjoy!!

Steve looks up at the popcorn ceiling, heart beating, beating, beating, nearly out of… his… chest. Steve doesn’t look at Robin, but… he… knows that Robin is looking at… her?

“Feel like we should be in the bathroom for this,” Steve croaks. Robin huffs out a laugh.

“We can move in there, if you want. My parent’s probably won’t need to use it, they’re in bed already.”

Steve shakes… her…? his. His(/her?) head. “No. I feel better in here.”

“Okay.” And then it’s quiet, between them, and it’s up to Steve to fill that silence. Awesome. Steve can do that. Well, Steve could do that, usually, but unfortunately there is something in Steve’s throat that is blocking everything and anything from coming out of it. Maybe Robin will just let him(/her?) sit here in silence forever, until they both fall asleep, and then when they wake up in the morning they can go along with their lives like there’s nothing building up in Steve’s soul, clawing and raging and desperate to come out.

Robin shifts, so that their feet, propped on the wall in front of them, are touching. It’s enough to get Steve going.

“You know when we were in the Russian base, and you said the thing about your life being one big error?”

Robin made a noise of affirmation.

“Were you talking about, like, being gay?”

Robin sits with the question for a few moments. “... Mostly,” is the answer she decides to go with. Steve waits for her to elaborate.

“I guess it was like, well. Some of it had to do with how we ended up in the Russian base, right? It didn’t feel real. Or like it was supposed to happen. But it also felt like just one more thing in my life that went wrong, and I kinda connect all the bad things that happen to me with me being a lesbian.” There’s a beat of silence. “Which I know isn’t really good. But I’ve been doing it for a while, so it’s hard to stop.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you feel like that? About being, um, half-gay?” The term they’ve landed on for Steve’s sexuality is kind of ridiculous, but neither of them could think of anything better for it. And it’s not like they really refer to it by name outside of hushed and rare conversations like this one.

“I guess?” Steve thinks on it a little. “Not really. Not like you, at least. It’s, like…” Steve lets himself(/herself?) brush against the problem in his(/her?) brain. Think about it for more than a fleeting moment.

Terror envelopes him(/her?)(cut that shit out pick one and stick to it). Steve tries to think through it, but it’s kind of hard to breathe.

“It’s more about, um. I don’t know. I… It feels stupid.” It feels wrong. It feels criminal.

“I won’t think you’re stupid,” Robin says, so earnestly, like she believes it. Oh, that’s horrible to think about her. Steve screws his eyes shut. Steve screws her eyes shut.

Pick one. (pick he.) And stick to it.

“Sometimes I… mmm. Sometimes I… Robin, if you—” Steve cuts himself off. This feels evil, what he’s about to say. Maybe more evil than what he is. “If I what?” Robin sounds concerned. Like, worried concerned. It makes Steve want to stop everything and wrap her up in a big hug and never talk about this again. Besides, what was Steve even going to say? Robin, if you hate me after this… what? What does he want her to do? Robin, if you hate me after what I say, please don’t.

If Robin hated Steve for this, he might just die.

“Steve? Are you okay?” Robin takes her legs down from the wall and sits up, leans over Steve, trying to get a good look at his face. Steve covers his eyes with his hands.

“I don’t know. I don’t— eugh.” Steve gulps in a big breath, “Robin, if you— hate me, um—”

“No! No no no no no! No! Steve, look at me! Right now!” Steve wants to, but that might make him actually cry. Steve digs her palms into her eyes. No. His palms, his eyes.

God.

“Steve, Evie, please. Please.” The nickname makes Steve’s eyes water. He swipes at them to make them go away, but they keep flowing. Okay, this is going a bit disastrously. The most important thing to do right now is keep his eyes closed and not look at Robin, or else he might shatter into a million little pieces.

“No, I— let me just— I don’t want you to—”

“I won’t hate you, ever. For anything. Are you okay?” Robin sounds miserably anxious. You can’t promise that, Steve wants to bite out. He swallows it. Steve has to trust Robin, because if she can’t, maybe she truly isn’t meant to be like this. Maybe Robin won’t hate him, maybe Robin will help him fix it.

“Sometimes I think about being a girl.”

The words sit heavy between them. Steve kind of wants to throw up about it.

“... Okay.” Robin says. She sounds a little breathless. Steve tries to imagine the look on her face, but can’t imagine it through the fuzz of terror. And like hell will he open his eyes.

“... Okay?” Steve croaks, after Robin fails to elaborate.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” She still has that breathless note in her voice, but it’s more like an aftermath-of-anxiety breathlessness than still-actively-anxious breathlessness.

Steve worries that he’s(.../she’s?) downplayed the problem here. Steve swallows, mouth dry, throat dry.

“No, I, I don’t just think about it, I like thinking about it. I like it when, um, the kids make fun of me by calling me, a, a mom, and I like when you or Max or El paints my nails, and I, I think about stealing your clothes sometimes and it makes me want to kill myself but I can’t, I can’t stop, I…” Steve is now hyperventilating.

Robin tackles Steve, and Steve’s horrible, traitorous mind wonders if she’ll wrap her hands around his(/her?) throat and kill her(/him?) rather than let him(her?) leave this room.

Steve opens her(/his?) mouth to, who knows, tell her that it’s okay? That he(/she?) understands? That she(/he?) loves her? But nothing comes out, and after a second, Steve realizes that it’s a hug. Obviously. And then Steve starts sobbing.

It takes a few minutes for Steve to stop losing… his? her? God, the thought of either makes Steve want to puke. It takes a few minutes for Steve to stop losing Steve’s mind. And Robin strokes Steve’s hair the whole time, and holds Steve the whole time, and whispers that it’s okay and that she loves Steve, the whole time. It kind of prolongs the sobbing, in a way, because Steve just can’t believe it. But Steve does eventually calm down.

“Steve,” Robin whispers.

Steve sniffles and swallows thickly. “Yeah?”

“It’s fine. You’re fine.”

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Well,” says Robin, and then she pauses, like she’s thinking. Steve lets her. There’s a headache brewing in Steve’s temple, and the silence is nice, in a way.

“Well,” Robin starts up again. “I don’t think you’re weird, or messed up, and I definitely don’t hate you. We’ve seen bad things and bad people. And you’re not bad.”

“Well, I… if I’m not bad, or weird, for this, I don’t know what I am.” Steve can hardly believe how well Robin is taking this. It really shouldn’t surprise Steve at all, because Robin is so, so good, but this is something that Steve hates, and they’re usually a united front on that, when it really matters.

So… maybe Robin is right.

Robin climbs off of Steve, lays down next to Steve again. But instead of propping her legs up on the wall, like Steve for some goddamn reason is still doing, she curls next to Steve, facing Steve. Looking at Steve. Still holding Steve’s hands.

“We’ll figure it out.” She squeezes. Steve squeezes right back, and keeps the grip tight.

“Okay.”

They sit in silence, and Steve just… breathes. Tries to will the headache away; not happening, ugh. Drops the legs from the wall. Steve plays with Robin’s fingers, not even trying to process what had happened yet. That can wait til later.

After a few minutes, Robin speaks up again. “Are you okay with questions? If not, that’s fine.” And Steve knows she means it. She will totally drop it for the night and let them settle down and watch a movie or three. But Steve doesn’t really want that right now. Steve wants to stay in this space where, at least for now, what Steve is feeling is fine, and alright. Steve’s never had that before, for this.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “They’re okay.” Maybe they can do the figuring out thing right now. Maybe all of Steve’s problems will be solved tonight. Wouldn’t that be a relief? Robin pulls her hands away, and Steve hears the rasping of her shirt material being rubbed together between her fingers.

“So… do you want to be a girl?” The question doesn’t sound harsh leaving Robin’s mouth, but the words are heavy. It makes alarm bells ring in Steve’s head, forbidden question! Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it! Years of routine repression make it hard for Steve to even consider the question, but Steve tries. Slowly and agonizingly, Steve thinks about it. It genuinely takes a few minutes, but Robin can clearly sense that Steve is thinking about it, so she doesn’t interrupt. Steve loves her so much.

“Kinda,” Steve whispers. “It’s… I don’t know. Really. It’s stupid.”

“Nuh-uh. No stupid stuff right now. Just say how you feel.”

“I kinda wanna be half-girl. Like how I’m half-gay.” It feels stupid. It feels evil. It feels way too indulgent. Even in a perfect world, it’s one or the other. Steve can’t, like, hog them both. They cancel each other out. Right?

“Uh-huh?” Robin is prompting Steve to go on. Oh God.

“Um. Like. I still… like the guy parts of me, you know? I still like being a guy.” That feels really important to emphasize. Steve feels kind of insane, talking like this, actually getting Steve’s thoughts out into the real world. But Robin is still listening, no judgment. It kind of makes Steve want to cry again, but that would make the headache worse so, no thanks. “But I… I like the girl parts, too. I like when you call me Evie, but I don’t want you to stop calling me Steve.”

Steve can feel Robin shift, like she’s nodding. “Okay,” she says again.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. You can… you can be a half-girl, half-guy.” And it sounds simple and a little obscene, when she says it. Maybe not obscene. Maybe more like tantalizing.

“I don’t know,” Steve whispers. “Is that, like… allowed?”

Steve finally turns to look at Robin. Her eyes are big and full of thought. It feels stupid, thinking like that, but there’s nothing else to describe it. Steve can see the thoughts dancing around in her pupils and irises and whatever else is in an eye. It’s so beautiful. Steve loves her so much.

“... I think that you can do whatever you want,” Robin whispers back. “And be whatever you want.”

Steve’s face crumples, just a little bit. Not enough that it means tears, but enough to bring the idea to mind. Steve pinches Steve’s nose. “It can’t be that simple, though.”

Robin tilts her head in a way that can only be described as birdlike. She hates when people compare her to birds, just because of her name, but it fits right now, in the secrecy of Steve’s brain. She looks serious and intent. “Why not?”

“Nobody has ever done this before. I think.”

“Nobody that we know of. We live in Hawkins, Steve, we know like, 500 people. There are probably people in New York, or Chicago, or whatever, that feel exactly like you.”

Steve can’t reconcile with that. It feels so lonely, being like this. It feels inherently lonely.

“And even if you are the only one in the world that feels like this… Well, that’s fine! You can be whoever you want! Especially around me.” Robin grabs Steve’s hands in her own. Her hands are always so cold. Steve loves to hold them and feel them warm up bit by bit. It’s grounding, especially right now.

“I don’t want you to hide yourself. Not from me. I hid for so long, around everyone else, and it was killing me.” Robin’s eyes bore into Steve’s. “And I didn’t know it was killing me, but looking back, it’s like, wow, I was going to die.” Her voice cracks, just a little bit, and Steve makes an involuntary noise. Holds her hands just a little tighter. The warmth is already equalizing between them. “And, I don’t know. I don’t want you to get there. Or, if… you’re there already, I don’t want you getting any further.”

Sometimes it astounds Steve, just how much Robin gets things. This isn’t one of those times, though. It feels deeply right, and deeply sad.

“Alright,” Steve says.

“You won’t hide this from me? After this?”

A shake of the head. “No.” And it sounds so easy, promising this. Maybe it can be easy. Steve hopes it will be easy.

“I love you,” Robin says, and she pulls Steve into a hug. Steve melts into it. Robin gives very bony and kinda twitchy hugs, minute movements every few seconds, and Steve loves them. Robin, a while ago, maybe a couple months after Starcourt, had expressed anxiety about her hugs being ‘godawful uncomfortable,’ her words, but Steve had denied that fiercely. Her hugs were God’s gift to mankind, and if everyone else hated it, fine. More for Steve.

“I love you too,” Steve says into her chest.

They lapse into silence again. Steve thinks about asking for some water, but that would mean one or both of them leaving this room, and all possible configurations seem worse than the lack of water, right now. Steve presses closer into Robin.

“Another question.”

“Yeah?”

“So, you like Steve and Evie, and you’re a girl and a guy. Do you like he and she?”

There’s the dreaded question. Steve can’t hold back a groan. “I don’t know,” Steve says into her chest. “I’ve kinda, thought about it a bit, but… both of them feel weird, by themselves. I guess I like both, but only when they’re next to each other. I can’t really decide on one.”

Robin hums in consideration. “I mean, we’re making all this up as we go. If they don’t feel right by themselves, then why do they have to be by themselves?”

Steve thinks about it. “It feels like they’re supposed to cancel each other out,” Steve says, voicing a thought from earlier.

“They clearly don’t, at least in your case.” Robin presses her cheek to the top of Steve’s head, flattening the hair there. “Don’t think about how things should be. Think about what you want.”

What Steve wants. Okay.

He thinks about he. She thinks about she. And how, apart, they really only feel like half of himself, but together, they feel like they tell the whole story and show the whole picture.

Steve can’t help but think about those optical illusions Dustin had shown her a while back. The one with the two faces. If you concentrated, you see whichever one you wanted at will. And they seemed so opposed, yet so intertwined, and you couldn’t have one face without the other. Maybe he’s an optical illusion. It’s better than being evil.

“Okay. Yeah. Both are good.” Steve can feel Robin smile into her hair.

“Do you want me to use them both?”

Steve feels a flash of panic. “Um— augh. Not… not around other people, um, but—”

Robin squeezes him closer. “Oh, God, obviously!” she says, and Steve is so grateful that they’re on the same page, like, 90% of the time, and that this falls into that 90%. “I can sneak them into conversations between us. Pronouns don’t really pop up in conversations between two people, but maybe if we got a cat or a goldfish or a turtle I could talk to it about you in front of you. Or is that weird? Hm. It might be weird.”

Steve can’t help the smile dawning on her face. Maybe everything will be okay. “It’s kinda weird. But we should do it anyway.”

Robin laughs, and Steve still has his face buried in her chest, so he can feel it. “Yeah,” she says fondly. “I guess that hasn’t stopped us before.”

#steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin #trans steve harrington #genderqueer steve harrington #bigender steve harrington #stranger things #little by little. everyone will believe in my vision of bigender steve #and okay this wasn't really 'edited' or whatever the kids are saying these days but thats fine i'm still proud of this :)#i just love them so much <3 steve and robin figuring things out...#do not know how to write them without having a sappy ending its kinda just inherent in the stobin of it all #anyway ENJOYYYY me and my girlfriend are gonna go out and have a date day :)#quincy.txt #my fics

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buckleyx · 1 year

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hi, babes! i was wondering if you could possibly write a Buck imagine where the reader has awful parents, and is just comforting ? sorry if not! i’m also sorry if you’ve already gotten this request, my asks don’t send a lot - 🪐

FIX THE FAMILY E.B

the gif i used is not mine! all credit goes to the owner!

Author’s note: Hiya love! Sorry it took a while but here u go :)) I hope it's a bit what you had in mind. I love soft buck :(

Evan Buckley x gender!neutral reader

Summary: Your sister started a project to 'fix the family' and you're not sure how to feel about it.

Warnings: mentions of bad parenting + bad upbringing and toxic family relationships but comforting buck <33

masterlist

"Not again." You sighed, cursing under your breath as you saw your screen lid up. A blue text message covered the happy lock screen picture of you and Buck. You didn't even have to guess to know who it was from. Your sister had been bugging you all night about a family dinner. You had already politely declined 3 times but she kept pushing. You didn't blame her, your upbringing was a complete different story then hers.

She still had contact with your parents, even visits them every few weeks and she made an unofficial promise to 'try and fix the family.' As much how you despised the idea you couldn't fully blame her for trying. She was the youngest and the most successful and very clear the favorite.

You love LA, your life is here now and you don't feel the need to fix anything. You are happy where you are. You build something here, something personal and safe and your not ready to see it all fall apart again.

"Everything alright?" Buck asked, his head peaking through the door. You sighed, gently throwing your phone on the countertop. Buck's brows knitted together as he slowly made his way over to you. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Without saying a word, you tiredly leaned your head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, giving a soft kiss against your temple. "I don't know." You sighed. "It's my parents."

Buck knew you didn't have a fantastic relationship with them but the topic didn't come out often. Just like his parents. You had talked about your shared struggles but you both didn't like unnecessary mentioning it since it was such a heavy subject to touch for the both of you. You both just didn't wanna push anything. But when it did, when the topic came up in conversation, you both were as supportive as ever. Buck especially, you couldn't ask for anyone better in your life then him.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He comforted, brushing his fingers against your cheek. "It's fine." You brushed off. "My sister just thinks she can magically fix the family. I'm surprised they even let her try."

"Maybe they don't know."

"Yeah probably. I haven't seen them in so long. Why now? Why suddenly does she wants to change things now?"

"Have you asked her?"

"No not yet." You admitted, playing with his hair. "Last time I talked to them was Christmas eve."

Buck thought back at the memory and gave you a kind sympathetic smile as he recalled how the evening ended. It was a messy day full of nasty remarks and bitchy comments. First they didn't approve of your job, then of your boyfriend and then they felt the need to break everything else in your life apart. The list could go on forever. It was just horrible. Your brows knitted together as you tried your best to block out the memory. A sigh left buck's lips, he hated seeing you like this. He hated that he couldn't do more to help you. "They treated you afwul, y/n. It's okay not to forgive them."

"I know."

"I didn't forgive my parents." He admitted. "And I honestly don't think I ever will."

"If you want to contact them again, wait until your ready and when you truly want it for yourself. Not because someone forced you to. The same happend to me, I wasn't ready and it turned out into a big big mess." You fell quiet for a second, Buck was right but you had to take a moment to let the thoughts in your mind process everything. You went over every scenario about how that reunion could go before confirming that it wasn't time yet. You weren't ready. And that's okay. Maybe you'll never be ready and that's okay too.

You brushed away some of Buck's hair that had fallen in his face, your hand rested on his cheek before you leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. "Thank you." You said softly before giving him another kiss. The buckley gave you kind smile. "Come on. I'll make you some dinner. It It will help you clear your head."

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spaceagesparkledust · 2 months

Text

Random Doctor Who hcs: Sleep (Doctor edition!)

Does 9 sleep? Like. Like does he actually sleep???

The answer is no.

“I don’t need to sleep I’m Time Lord.” he says with bags under his eyes.

Gets nightmares pretty often when he does sleep.

Will take short little nod offs in the console room.

Sleeps/relaxes in his leather jacket and jeans. Rose thinks this is so weird and gets on him for it all the time. She winds up buying him a soft jumper on some planet they stop at. He shows up in sweatpants and the jumper one day and rose and Jack just stare at him for a hot minute because he looks so wrong. “He looks so naked.” Nine gets so offended about it (they’re trying to say he looks fine but yeah they're laughing a bit). “You just look so…normal.” “Oi!” “No, no it’s not bad. S’ different.”

He actually learns how to relax a bit. He considers it a bit domestic, a lot domestic actually, and he looks so unintimidating in sweatpants but……maybe.

Ten. Oh Ten.

Dude got a pair of pajamas on his first day of being alive and has kept them ever since. They’re his favorite. He loves them so much that Rose has to take TenToo to go find a pair like them.

Stays up with Rose talking about the most random things. Rose listens as long as she is able before she falls asleep. Her favorite lullaby :)

Like 9, he’d rather be tinkering with the Tardis than sleeping so he mostly does that. But he has taken up reading. Twilight’s getting wild.

Has thought about asking to sleep with Rose. As in next to Rose. on the same bed. He immediately talked himself out of it.

Martha has to make him sleep. “You just got possessed by a sun go to bed!”

Generally sleeps less while Martha’s on board.

Gets bored and walks into Donna’s room to talk to her while Donna’s trying to go to bed. She indulges him sometimes but other times she just wants to go to bed.

Has fallen asleep during movie nights with Donna and has denied it.

Sleepovers with Donna.

Cuddles :)

Incredibly sleep deprived throughout the whole mess that is post-journey’s end. Like emotionally sleep deprived. Desperately in need of a nap.

11 HATES sleeping. Hates it. If he’s sleeping, he’s going to be still, and if he’s going to be still, he’ll start thinking and we can’t have that. So he just…doesn’t.

To keep himself occupied while traveling without Amy and Rory he tried going to sleep. It was a very bad, no good, horrible experience for him and he decided he just simply would never do that again. Hasn’t been in his room since.

Will nod off from time to time but will not go to bed. Rory gets a bit concerned but maybe this is normal for time lords. Who’s he to say?

Trying to put him to bed is like working with a fussy toddler. You will have to cajole and shove and push and bribe him and it will not work. Just give up.

Thinks pajamas look nice but has no need for them because he doesn’t sleep.

The experience with the Dream Lord was enough for him thanks.

12? Doesn’t sleep. Sleep is for the weak.

Absolutely falls asleep standing up.

Tries an energy drink once. Gets addicted. Is banned from energy drinks from now on.

He and Clara pull the worst all-nighters you’ve ever seen. Its fun for them.

Doesn’t own pajamas but he does own a really corny t-shirt Clara bought him that he would wear if he did sleep. But he doesn’t. So.

Fourteen NEEDS a nap. Desperately.

Is incredibly tired but has so much trouble going to sleep its unreal.

Will stay up stargazing or tinkering with things in the house that don’t need to be tinkered with. Takes apart every appliance in the house until Donna and Sylvia yell at him to stop.

Sleeps in an actual bed in an actual house because Donna made him. She was not about to have him sleep in the TARDIS.

Rose makes him a blanket fort in the living room.

She stuffs it full of stuffed animals and puts up fairy lights. “It’s bigger on the inside.”

It’s incredibly comfortable but unfortunately for every other member of the house it takes up a good chunk of space. (Rose and the Doctor do catch everyone getting a lot of use out of it though)

Lives in hand-me down pajamas until he can get his own but secretly loves the hand-me down pajamas

#i haven't met 13 yet #doctor who #doctor who headcanons #tenth doctor #ninth doctor #eleventh doctor #twelfth doctor #fourteenth doctor #timepetals #ninerose #tenrose

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annab-nana · 11 months

Note

“Hiding/hoping not to be caught kiss” w tom 🤲🏼

he so would do this, that cheeky guy

warnings: not proofread

❀ masterlist ❀

tom hated to say it, but it was true. he was horrible at secrets. he just could not keep it under wraps, too excited to tell someone about whatever it was. you didn't mind it as you were always the one he told everything to. every movie spoiler known to him has hit your ears at least once.

it was only an issue when you were the one he was keeping the surprise from.

you'd offhandedly mentioned that you had never had a surprise party. naturally, tom made it his mission to make sure you had one. you'd just gotten a promotion at your job and your birthday was in a few days, so tonight was the night tom picked to throw the party.

you were supposed to be out for most of the day, but the rain kind of put a damper on your plans so you came home early, earlier than tom had expected. as soon as he heard the front door open, he popped his head out into the hallway, expecting sam or harry, but seeing you.

"heyyy, baby," he greeted, stepping back in the kitchen to set something down before walking over to you, "i thought you were going to be out with mia all day."

"i was, but," you paused as you shucked off your shoes and rid yourself of your raincoat, "the rain happened and she got a text from chris saying that he thought micah was starting to get sick and you know how much she worries about that boy."

"yeah," tom agreed while leaning against the wall a little too stiffly.

"so we're probably just gonna push off our girl's day to next week." you tried to make your way further inside, but tom moved to stand up fully sort of in your way. there was something about the way he was looking at you that was unusual, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

a small smile tugged at his lips. "come here," he whispered softly, arms open for you to walk into. your hands clasped together at the small of his back before his gentle lips came to meet yours. thinking this was just a small greeting kiss, you pulled away and tried to move further down the hall. tom, however, groaned dramatically and held you tighter. "don't leave me just yet."

you couldn't fight off your growing grin and pressed a kiss to his lips once more. he pushed it further in passion, letting his hands cup your cheeks and hold you close. while walking backward, he kept his face on yours and hoped you wouldn't look over into the kitchen.

and you wouldn't have too, if he wasn't too clumsy and tripped over his own feet, falling backward and taking you with him.

"are you okay?" you asked as a smile pulled at your lips when you pulled your head up from his chest to look at him.

before he could respond, he saw your head tilting to the side in the direction of the kitchen and sprung to action.

"you know what?" he prefaced, your eyes meeting his again, "my head does kinda hurt."

the corners of your mouth turned down into a frown. "wanna go lay down?"

"yeah."

getting off of him so he could stand up, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye, something shiny, and went to look at it. tom's lips on yours stopped you though.

"what," his mouth connecting with yours paused your query, "has gotten," another kiss, "into you to-today?"

"nothing," he muttered against your lips, "can't i just love you?"

"why do i feel like you're hiding something from me?"

he closed his eyes in minor defeat before resting his forehead on yours. "you are impossible to surprise, you know that?"

your light chuckle sounded in the air. "no sweetheart, i think you are impossible at keeping things in." he dropped his head to your shoulder and groaned dramatically. "look, i can go wherever you need me to so you can keep doing whatever you're doing so secretively," you emphasized to mess with him, "and i promise i'll be the most shocked and surprised girl you've ever seen when i come back, okay?"

tom lifted his head to meet your eyes. "you don't have to."

"i want to."

"but you already know that i'm surprising you."

you dropped your jaw in faux shock. "you're surprising me?"

"stop," he whined with a giggle.

"what? i have to get my practice in for the real surprise."

remember to support writers & reblog :)

turn on notifications for @annab-library to be notified when i post something new!

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurbs #blurbs #oatmilkholland #❀ alice ❀#winter wonderland sleepover ✧*:･ﾟ

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

Note

I can’t stop thinking about billy knight in a flatshare situation or something and he’s just like utterly besotted with his flatmate

he lingers in the living room while she’s cooking in the attached kitchen but panics when she sits next to him on the couch

learns what her favourite snacks are and buys a couple extra when he can and leaves them in the fridge but never asks her to eat with him - he’s too insecure and scared to despite how many times she’s invited him and they’ve had a lovely time

Idk maybe I’m getting too specific it doesn’t need those details I’m just trying to give you the vibe of lovesick but shy billy and I’d just love it if you’d write a little drabble based on this situation bc I literally think about it multiple times a week and that’s about how often I think about your fics

you're SO RIGHT FOR THIS!!!

word count: 2k

warnings: smut (handjob, implied more), premature ejaculation, fluff, pining, anxiety, awkward boners

He was trying so hard to not be weird and creepy. But it was sort of difficult, because it turns out when Billy has a massive crush on a girl that he is physically forced to be around almost all the time... he gets super weird and creepy.

Staring, and then looking away quickly when caught— which only makes it more obvious that he was staring; peering into your room when the door is left cracked to see what you're doing; stammering or not responding at all when you speak to him, because he's so afraid to say the wrong thing. He was acting like a total fucking weirdo, and he hated himself for it, but he couldn't stop— he was always thinking about you, and it was like he could never relax because you were always here, in his apartment, always doing adorable and sweet things that made his heart skip.

You cooked for him. He could barely remember the last time someone cooked for him and he knew it wasn't this good— your food warmed his chest literally and figuratively, and he had to resist the urge to say something horribly inappropriate about what a good housewife you'd make when he saw you serving up plates of curry with an apron on.

You cleaned for him. Even when he begged you not to, you ended up doing his laundry and tidying his room. He was mortified imagining that you might've found one of the old shirts he used to clean up after he jerked off every night, but if you had, you didn't say anything. Instead, you said that you liked cleaning his room for him because acts of service was your 'love language'. And then you just walked away like he wasn't in the middle of a crisis wondering if that meant you loved him?! Surely you didn't mean that, he was just your quiet roommate, he barely knew you and you barely knew him.

You said nice things. Things he had no idea to respond to— like that, but some more simple and subtle. You pouted when he got a haircut saying that you liked how he kept it long; and he instantly promised to never cut it again, and regretted it when you giggled... that was definitely coming on too strong. "I still like it like this," you promised, stepping closer, and gently pulling on the strands by his ears as he tried not to move a muscle in case you would stop touching him. "Easier to see your curls when it's shorter, at least, so that's nice."

When you left, he reached up and touched his own hair where you had, wishing he'd had the courage to touch your hand a moment before.

He was trying so hard not to imagine the worst when you were out all night: the worst was that something bad had happened to you, that you were hurt or sick or dead. That the police would be here in the morning to ask when he last saw you because they found your car in a lake or something. The second worst was that you'd met someone at the pub and spent the night at his flat. Billy rubbed his eyes as he tried not to imagine it, but his mind forced him to see it over and over; you laughing and moaning in the arms of some bloke that's everything he isn't, falling into bed and not even thinking for a second about your weird roommate with the obvious crush on you.

You came home the next morning with your stilettos hanging off your fingers, and he wondered if he should ask about it or pretend he didn't even notice. "We had such a good time!" you told him first. "I wish you would've come out with us, my mates would've loved to meet you."

"S-sorry," Billy mumbled, "jus' not the type for clubbing, I guess."

"Don't blame you, my ears are still ringing," you laughed. "And we stayed out a little too late and all the cabs were taken, I had to crash at Gemma's place."

He was way too relieved to hear that, smiling to himself. "Glad you had fun, though."

"Will you come next time?" you pleaded. "There's so many pretty girls at the club, bet you could meet someone you like."

His heart twisted as you winked at him playfully. "O-oh, m'not... I don't know how to talk to pretty girls."

"If you let me dress you up, you won't have to talk," you promised, stepping a little too close but he was too scared to move away. "I mean, I hope this doesn't come off the wrong way, but you'd look really great in a nice button-up that fits you right."

As his throat tightened, his eyes darting all over your face, he found himself asking the question he'd meant to think internally out loud: "What's the wrong way for that to come off?"

He figured you would say that you weren't trying to sound like you were flirting with him. "I'm trying not to insult your clothes," you giggled. "You should get some new stuff, is all— I do your laundry, you know, half of your shirts are stained and your socks have holes."

His face heated up as you stared at him with a smirk. "R-right, yeah... I think I have a button-up. Never wear it, though."

"Let me see it!" you pleaded.

"I-it's in the closet, I'll get it," he offered, starting to turn already— relieved and distraught to get out of your personal space.

"No, try it on for me," you clarified. "Wanna see you in it. And jeans!"

His heart pounded, but he nodded, "O-okay..."

His fingers were shaking so badly, he had trouble getting the buttons through the holes; but he managed to get dressed just in time for you to burst in as he was buttoning up the last one. "Are you ready yet?" you frowned.

"You're already in here," he noticed.

"Oh, you look so good," you beamed as you dashed up to him and put your hands on his chest. Good god, woman, are you trying to kill me?!

"Thanks," he mumbled. "It's kinda wrinkled..."

"Well, that's fixable," you replied. "Here, you should wear it with the sleeves rolled up."

He felt so helpless to you, so melted by your touch, and all he could do was hold his arms out as you unbuttoned the cuffs and rolled up his sleeves for him; your fingers kept touching higher and higher up his arm, and pathetic as it was, he was already getting a semi from it.

"Oh," you groaned in a way that burned himself into his mind instantly, holding onto both his elbows as you admired your work. "Yeah, this looks great. But I'm a sucker for a rolled-up sleeve."

"Really?" he mumbled.

"If you wore this out, you'd definitely get some phone numbers," you insisted. "Especially if you did your hair a bit..."

You reached up to card your fingers through his hair, and he watched you as he wondered if this was a dream or something— you were calling him handsome, weren't you? Or was it just flattery?

"So you'll come with us this weekend, right?" you assumed. It was hard to say no to you when you were looking at him like that... but he still did, sort of.

"I— I dunno," he mumbled awkwardly.

You puffed out your cheeks in annoyance. "Don't you wanna meet a nice girl, have a little fun?"

"It sounds scummy when you say it like that," he protested. "I'm not a player or anything."

You snorted. "Billy, nobody's at risk of thinking that."

He winced and looked down at the ground.

"N-no! I mean, because you're sweet," you added, and for a second he saw on your face the same nervousness he felt in himself. "Not because you couldn't— you know you could get as many girls as you wanted."

"Don't say that," he frowned.

"What? Of course you could," you shook your head, "you've got such a handsome face, and if you just unbuttoned these—"

You opened the top two buttons of his shirt, pulling it open to expose his chest and the beginnings of some hair there.

"Yeah, that's sexy," you announced proudly.

He thought he was going to fucking pass out. And, he realised with an appropriate margin of terror, he was hard as a rock.

Maybe if he'd managed to keep a straight face, you wouldn't have noticed. But you asked what was wrong, and then you looked down, and you saw the bulge in his jeans as clear as day. "O-oh, Billy," you mumbled.

"S-sorry," he choked out as he pulled away, wondering where he could hide forever— and you were already in his room! He had nowhere to go!

"No, wait," you pleaded as he turned towards the closet and shrunk a bit, "c'mon, it's not a big deal. I mean— okay, it's a big deal, but can we talk about it? Like, is this just one of those random things, or...?

"S'the way you touched me," he admitted, staring down at the floor. "Nobody's— haven't been touched in a while."

He shut his eyes tight, but he heard movement, so he opened them— and you were standing right in front of him. "Do you want me to touch you?" you asked softly.

"I— er," he stalled.

"If you want me to," you continued, "I will."

"Yes," he answered quickly, "yes, please— you can— yeah, touch me however you want."

You ran your hand over his chest first, then down his stomach; when you just barely ran the tips of your fingers over his cock through the jeans, he jolted. His hips rocked in search of more friction, more pressure, from your hand, and his mouth let out a whimper-y sigh. Smiling up at him, you pressed firmer against the bulge under his fly. "How long has it been?" you asked sweetly.

"Y-years, maybe, I dunno," he mumbled— he couldn't remember anything from before this moment anyways.

"Oh, sweetheart," you cooed pityingly. "That's not right. I figured you didn't have any trouble, you're so cute..."

He whined through his teeth. "Y-you're so pretty, so fucking pretty," he rushed out quickly. "God, can I kiss you?"

Instead of answering, you smiled and leaned forward to kiss him yourself. He grabbed your face right away, overwhelmed by the softness of your lips, the sweetness of your tongue, the way your hand explored more confidently over his erection.

And then you rubbed your palm on him as your fingers slid down to cup his balls, at the same time you playfully bit his bottom lip. Turns out, that was all he could take; with a groan into your mouth, he came in his jeans.

Your eyes went wide as you felt his cock flexing, watched his face that went slack and turned bright red as his sticky come started to stain the denim and ruin his boxers. "Billy!" you exclaimed in shock, biting your lip as you looked at him.

He whined and tightened his face up, dropping his head onto your shoulder and holding on tightly to your waist. "M'sorry, so fuckin' sorry, couldn't help it," he rushed out, "you're just so—"

"That's so hot," you groaned, holding on tightly to his shirt as you stared up at him with the most hungry look in your eyes. "You just came in your jeans, over me? Oh my god that's hot. Fuck."

He was totally speechless. What was there to say? Clearly this was some hallucination or fantasy come to life or something, and at this point, he was just happy to let it happen.

"I changed my mind," you grinned, "you shouldn't come to the club with my mates and I— all the girls will want you, Billy, and I can't have that. I'm keeping you all for myself."

That's all I ever wanted, he thought.

"My bed's bigger," you smiled up at him as you pet his exposed chest again, eyes getting a little glassy, "we should go there."

You took his hand and guided him across the apartment— him and his cock that had managed to find renewed interest in this even after just coming so quickly. "What... what are we gonna do there?" he asked sheepishly, convinced what he was imagining was too good to be true.

"Clean up that mess you made," you promised with a wink, "and then make a new one."

#billy knight x reader #billy knight fluff #billy knight fic

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headkiss · 1 year

Note

Hey!! how are u? Could i request a steve x shy! reader fic where she’s just having an anxiety filled day but doesn’t say anything cause she doesn’t want to burden steve and it ends up leading to an anxiety attack and steve comforts her through it?

hiiii thank u sm for requesting!!! i wrote this with what i know personally, but i know anxiety isn’t the same for everyone so feel free to request other scenarios, too <33 | 0.8k, hurt/comfort, tw anxiety and panic attack

It’s been a horrible, horrible day.

Every noise has been getting to you, every thought much louder than usual. It’s as if every little thing is slipping through your barriers, worming their way into your mind. You hate it.

The worst part is that it’s Steve’s day off and it’s meant to be a great day. Of course, you can’t control that it isn’t, but you feel guilty either way.

It started in the morning, waking up far too early, before the sun had even risen and unable to fall back asleep. You stayed in bed only to keep Steve’s arms wrapped around you. Then, an email from your boss talking about some changes being made. Far too many at once for your liking.

Everything kept piling up until, eventually, it boiled over.

You’re on the couch with Steve when it happens. You’re not even sure what’s playing anymore because it’s been muted, overtaken by the volume of your mind. Still, you don’t say a word about it to Steve.

He can tell something is wrong, but he knows that you sometimes take time with these things. That you have to process before bringing anything up. He still worries. You’re far quieter than usual and even now, as he has an arm curled around your shoulders to pull you close, you’re tense.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He asks.

Had he known that’s what would’ve been the tipping point, he would’ve kept his mouth shut.

Your hands shake and your head spins because where do you even start? What isn’t wrong? You feel awful for thinking this way, especially when you have the world’s best boyfriend right next to you but that’s the thing about anxiety. You can’t control it no matter how hard you try.

Breathing gets harder, and you make your escape as fast as possible. “Um. I'm going to the bathroom.”

You spring up from the couch and go to the bathroom. The door slamming behind you makes you wince. Your hands bury themselves in your hair, pulling at the roof only to feel something, anything other than the panic coursing through you.

Steve’s not far behind, though. Because he knows you and he knows exactly what’s happening even though you haven’t told him anything. He tries to calm himself down to be able to help you properly, he just hates seeing you this way.

Seeing anyone he loves in pain is awful, but it’s much worse when it comes to you. Because he doesn’t just love you, he’s in love with you, and it’s different—the way he feels about you.

You barely hear him knock on the door over the roaring in your ears, his worried “baby? I’m coming in,” muffled.

It’s getting harder to breathe, your chest tight. He opens the door even though you don’t reply, eager to get to you and help talk you down. He’s learned what helps, what makes you feel better, and he learned fast.

“Hey, hey, hey,” his hands reach for yours, easing them from your hair, some strands come away with them. He holds them tight in his grasp, grounding you. “You’re okay. Breathe with me.”

He takes a deep breath in, then out. You try your best to follow but it proves to be more difficult than it seems. He takes your hands and places them against his chest so you can feel it expand with each breath, feel his heartbeat.

“Good, you’re doing so good,” he keeps his hands resting atop yours, then runs them up and down your arms comfortingly. “That’s it. Again. In, out.”

After what feels like hours but might have only been minutes, it gets easier; following his rhythm. The sound of your heart racing in your ears fades away, slowing down. You lean forward and rest your head against Steve’s chest, he kisses the top of your hair.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing you say.

“None of that,” he tilts your chin up with his finger so you look at him, gentle as ever. “Never apologize, you hear me?”

“It’s just, today was supposed to be nice and- and relaxing, and I ruined it.”

“No, you didn’t. Still got lots of time in the day, okay? Are you tired?”

He knows the answer is yes. You usually are after what just happened, but he lets you say it for yourself. He’ll do whatever you want to make you feel better, anything at all.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Wanna nap?”

Another nod.

He holds you extra close when you’re in bed, one arm being used as your pillow—he doesn’t care if it goes numb, as long as you’re comfortable—and the other wrapped around your waist.

“Thank you for helping me, Steve.”

“I’m always here, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I do.”

And really, you do. He never lets you forget it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington request #steve harrington requests #steve harrington story #steve x reader #steve harrington blurb #steve stranger things #stranger things steve #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #stevie blurbs

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scarisd3ad · 10 months

Text

Betty

Masterlist

Taglist

Pairing - glenn Rhee x fem!reader and Glenn Rhee x Maggie Greene

Warnings - mentions of cheating, cursing

‘The worst thing that I’ve ever did was what I did to you’

August - betty - cardigan

"You had sex with Maggie?" her heart broke into a million pieces; she didn't expect the person she loved so dearly to break her heart. his mouth fell open as he stuttered "y-y/n-" she didn't let him finish his sentence, she slams the rv door closed and turns around with tears falling down her cheeks.

"shit" Glenn muttered as he got up and ran after her. by the time he was outside it seemed like she was miles away. once he got to her, he grabbed her wrist "y/n honey I-I didn't mean for you to find out like that." at this point tears as streaming down her cheeks as she tried pulling her wrist out of his grip, but he wouldn't let go. "Fuck you, Glenn let go" she cried as she still tried pulling away. "no! we need to talk y/n" there was no talking needed she knew everything she needed to know.

"I don't want to talk to you!" he felt really bad, he really did. he hated seeing her hurt. he hated the fact that he hurt her. they had now caught the attention of almost everyone in the group. y/n was still trying to pull away from Glenns tight grip. "We need to talk!" she shook her head as tears kept falling "I told you I don't wanna!"

"What the hell's goin' on over here?" rick asked as he walked up with Shane following. y/n's still trying to pull away when Shane said "come on man let go of her" Glenn reluctantly let go as he whispered "y/n come on talk to me" as y/n swiftly turned around walking towards her and Glenns shared tent. she hated the fact that she'd either have to sleep outside or next to him. "y/n come on- I-I'm sorry."

"What the hell did you do?" Shane asked with brows furrowed as they watched y/n storm off. "Fucked up...I fucked up" Glenn whispered as he turned around to see Maggie stood on her father's porch. she rolled her eyes as they made eye contact.

Glenn gives y/n time to cool down he doesn't want to piss her off even more. he sits in dales rv contemplating what he's going to do to get y/n back. the worst thing that he had ever did was this, hurting her. would she let him talk to him, would she even trust him?

y/n sat in her and Glenns shared tent, the only way anyone could identify that she was there was because of the quiet sobs coming from the tent. she hated him, how could he do that to her. after 7 years he just threw it all away. she could handle this type of heartbreak, he had been her first love, her first real boyfriend, she felt like she had wasted her entire life.

to say Maggie felt horrible was an understatement. she had torn two people apart on accident. she didn't know that what she told herself over and over again to try and make herself feel better, but it didn't work. she needed to talk to y/n and explain what had happened. Maggie felt heartbroken too, but it wasn't the same, and she knew it wasn't the same because he wasn't hers to lose.

when Maggie went over to y/n and Glenns tent y/n was still inside the tent crying. "Hey? y/n?" Maggie called out. y/n didn't want to talk to anyone, she just wanted to sit with her emotions, but she reluctantly pulled herself together and muttered an almost inaudible "what?" through sniffles. if Maggie wasn't so close to the tent, she wouldn't have even heard y/ns quiet words.

"I wanted to just say I'm sorry." y/n was tired of sorry, a sorry wasn't going to fix what was already broken. "He um....I asked him if he had a girlfriend before I even offered and he said he didn't." he lied, she really didn't understand did he really just not love her anymore? did he hate her so much that he thought it would be fun to fuck with me like this? her now knowing that he lied crushed her heart again. "oh" y/n mumbled as she begun to crawl out of the tent. "And I wouldn't have even offered if I knew you were together."

y/n stood up facing Maggie with her arms crossed over her chest, her cheeks tear stained, and her eyes red. "I-I we were together for 7 years." y/n whispers, "I love him so much...I don't know why he would do this to me" she cries as fresh tears start to fall down her cheeks.

Glenn watches from afar, he was going to talk to y/n when he saw Maggie and her talking. he just wanted to squeeze y/n so tight and tell her he loved her, because he really did. he loved her so much and never wanted her to think the opposite, but obviously she thinks that now. he wanted to make it up to her, show her how much he loved her, but he didn't think she'd let him.

"y/n?" he took a few steps forward toward the two girls. "i'll let you guys talk" maggie said as she quickly walked away. glenn walks closer and tries to take y/ns hands in his "y/n hon-" but she quickly cuts him off as she slaps his hands away "dont touch me" her words were full of hate, her words stab him right in the heart. it breaks his heart knowing that he's made the girl that once had nothing but love for him hate him. "y/n- im sorry please im sorry" he's begging for her to take him back but she wont, atleast right now. a sorry isnt going to make her trust him again.

"im leaving, ill find some where else to sleep" she whispers, he shakes his head as he tries once again to touch her but she steps back. 'you-you dont have to sleep here" she shakes her head "i dont want to" the tent was full of too many memories. memories of the sleepless nights where he'd hold her and press sweet kisses to her neck and shoulders, memories of all the love she once had for him.

y/n doesn't even talk about Glenn for the next few days. the only time his name is even mentioned in her head is at night when she curls up and lets herself cry. Glenn hates himself; he hates that he hurt her. he needs to talk to her, he needs to win her back, but he doesn't even know how to do it. he spent the few days after the day y/n had found out fantasying about how he'd explain everything, and she'd kiss him and forgive him. he knows that that might not happen though, y/n wouldn't even look at him.

at night he'd fall asleep and dream of her forgiving him and taking him back. he dreamed of her soft hands on his face, and her soft lips against his, he dreamed of being able to hold her in his arms again, he dreamed of her being his again.

when he finally had the balls to go to dales rv, where she had been staying for the past couple of day, it was late. the sun was setting, and everyone was getting ready to go to bed. dale and Andrea were on top of the rv still keeping watch as he walked up to the rv. dale wasn't going to step in unless he heard screaming, but he was sure that wouldn't happen. Glenn makes sure to knock on the door before walking in. y/n is sat at the table with her elbows propped up against it. "What do you want?" she asks. he slowly walks toward her "I-I want to talk" she rolls her eyes but ends up muttering a quiet "fine" and scooting over so he could sit next to her. he smiles and takes a seat next to her. he missed her so much, even though it had only been a few days he just missed everything about her.

"y/n I'm so sorry" he whispered; she nods in response. she can tell he's sorry, and she knows what he's going to ask. he's going to ask her to give him another chance, but she doesn't think she can trust him again. "why'd you do it?" she asked, he's a little taken aback by the question, he doesn't even know how to answer it because he doesn't know why he did it. "I-I don't know." he whispered. he knows his answer is pathetic, he can't even make an excuse for himself. she scoffed and turned away from him. he decided just to go for it what's the worst that could happen? "y/n honey please give me one more chance I miss you so much" he whispers as he grabs her arm. she turns toward him, and Glenns heart fills with hope. she takes her hand and places it to his cheek before pressing her lips to his. Glenn is about to cry because he didn't think he'd ever get to kiss her again, but y/n just wanted one last kiss. one last kiss before she lets go of him forever. she pulls away just as he kisses back. his brows furrowed together as y/n said "Glenn I-I can't, I don't trust you anymore."

his breath gets caught in his throat, and tears form in his water line. she didn't trust him, that was the only thing going through his mind. she really didn't trust him anymore, but can he blame her? he caused this and he knows it. "y/n- no please I didn't mean to hurt you" he pleaded his grip around her arm tightening. "Glenn, I love you I really do but I can't trust that you won't hurt me again." but she loved him, she said she loved him. if she loved him, why couldn't she take him back, Glenn didn't understand. his brows furrowed together as a tear fell down his cheek. "b-but I won't." he whispered. she feels like she's punishing herself more than she's punishing him, but she's already made up her mind and didn't want him to have the expectation of him being able to take advantage of the fact that she had a soft spot for him. she hated seeing him cry but he needed to know that just because she still loved him doesn't mean the relationship would even work anymore.

"Glenn, I can't give us another chance, but we can be friends."

#fanfics #x reader #glenn rhee x reader #glenn Rhee #glenn Rhee x fem!reader #glenn Rhee x female!reader #glenn rhee x maggie greene #female!reader #fem!reader #f!reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead season 2 #twd #maggie greene #Spotify

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tomkaulitzssgirl · 8 months

Text

You are safe with me | Bill Kaulitz x Male Reader

requested by: @billsjum6ie

(bill in the story is in his 2008 era)

warnings: bullying, su!cide incitement

14 september. a date that you wished never came. school had started again and for you it was tragic.

you didn’t really like anyone there, not even your teachers. everyone was fake, talked behind each others backs and the teachers couldn’t even do their job right.

it was pointless for you. it was a waste of time and energy. you always thought that what didn’t feed your mind was pointless and everything in this school was.

you sighed as you continued to dress infront of the mirror, putting on a grey hoodie and black baggy jeans. you paired it with black converse and a grey beanie, even if it was still september it was already cold outside.

your backpack was already done, so you put it on your shoulder and after saying bye to your mom, you left. the bus arrived on point as usual and took you to your worst nightmare.

as you stood infront of the building, you kept analysing the crowd of students, some older, some younger. many were in groups, just talking, others were smoking, no one really seemed to see you.

you were kind of a loner, your only friend went to another school so you were all by yourself.

the day was also about to start with the subject you hated the most: math.

when the bell rang, everyone ran inside, besides you, you took your own sweet time to walk into that hell hole.

you were the last one of the students to walk into it, the teacher had to come. you sat down quietly at the end of the class, taking out a piece of paper and a pen starting to draw.

soon the lesson began and no one was really paying attention. you thought your teacher was crazy to make you study on the first day of school.

getting bored, you huffed, raising your hand.

“yes?” the teachers acknowledge you, placing her hand on her hips.

“could i go to the bathroom, please?” you asked putting on your sweetest face. she sighed and nodded, “be quick!”

you got up, rolling your eyes without the woman seeing you, before walking out of the classroom.

you looked at the floor, your hands in your pockets and your head in your thoughts, that soon were interrupted by someone screaming.

“give us your fucking money!” a guy with a booming voice yelled, before you heard something hit a locker.

“i don’t have any!” another voice yelled, you could tell they were crying by the way it sounded and trembled.

“you don’t have any? you’re fucking rich!” this time it wasn’t the first voice talking, but another one.

you walked some more and hid behind a wall, only your head showing a bit, so you could see what was going on.

“leave me the fuck alone!” a thin, tall guy yelled. his hair was black and long to his shoulders. he was trying hard to push the other guys away but to not use since they were stronger than him.

when you focused your eyes on him, you realised it was your crush. bill. bill kaulitz.

you guys went out a couple of times but never decided what you were.

gaining some courage, you stepped out of your hiding place, ready to protect him. “hey! get away from him! i’ll call the principal!”

they acted like they didn’t hear you, so you stepped closer to them.

“you’re such a girl! you even wear make up! what man does that?” they laughed at him, taking his sunglasses off his face, revealing a dark make up.

“i’m talking to you! go away!” you tried to take the sunglasses out of their hands but they pushed you on the ground.

at the sight of you falling down they laughed even more before throwing the sunglasses on the ground and stepping on them.

“why don’t you kill yourself? no one likes you anyway. your parents divorced cause they couldn’t stand your weird ass.”

at this point you couldn’t handle the sight anymore. the guy slowly broke down on the floor.

“hey! i said leave him alone!” you yelled louder, pushing the one who said those horrible things against the wall. you were certainly scared but also fed up with their bullshit.

“who are you? his little boyfriend?” he finally acknowledged you, pushing you back.

you did the same thing again, before punching him in his dirty, ugly face. his little friend didn’t do anything, he just stood there watching.

bill took this chance to run away to the bathroom and before they could’ve done something to you, the bell rang.

“this isn’t over.” he said holding his black eye before they ran away.

you let out a shaky breath, your heart beating fast, not knowing you had that in you.

without thinking about it twice, you ran to the bathroom, wanting to check up on the boy.

you found him gripping the edge of the sink, his head down as he let out heavy breaths. he looked like he was having a panic attack.

you walked closer to him, stretching your arm to touch his shoulder but he abruptly stepped back, his eyes wide and full of tears.

“no! don’t touch me!” he screamed while trembling, before sliding down the wall and sitting down with his head between his hands.

you crouched down infront of him, gulping down the knot in your throat and fighting back tears. you hated seeing people like this. especially this poor, sweet boy.

“i’m not gonna hurt you.” you almost whispered as you slowly took his hand, your heart fluttering because he let you grab it, “listen, you’re safe here with me, they’re not gonna hurt you again. trust me, i will protect you.”

bill relaxed against your touch and listening to your words, “i-i…i don’t know how to thank you.” he almost whispered, tears still streaming down his face.

you wiped them away with your thumbs, a soft smile on your face, “it’s okay, you don’t have to.”

he smiled, bringing you into a hug. you closed your eyes while you took in his scent, stroking his back. “i’m here now.”

when you broke away, he let out an embarrassed laugh, before sighing.

“why don’t we get out of here? maybe we can go to my house if you’re comfortable with it, eat something, watch a movie…” you wanted him to have a good day after this horrible morning.

he nodded frantically, “yes please.” he almost pleaded getting up from the floor. you got up after him and you were shocked when he took your hand, leading you out of the school.

arrived at your house, you were both just having fun. you were sitting down on your bed, eating some pancakes that you had cooked just for him as an horror movie played in the back. you discovered he liked them a lot.

“guess what number i’m thinking!” you said taking a bite out of your pancake.

“mmmh, six?” bill laughed before drinking some water.

“close! seven.” you smiled turning your gaze to the tv.

suddenly, you felt him leaning against your shoulder with his head, a small smile plastered on his lips.

“thank you for everything.” he softly said, closing his eyes. you looked at him biting your lower lip.

you had to say it. it was now or never.

“i-i…” you stuttered, your heart stopping when you saw him staring at you, “i-i…love you.”

bill’s eyes widened, he sat up straight, before grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you all of a sudden.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, closing your eyes and savouring his taste.

when you guys broke away, you both were out of breath. “i love you too.” he smiled placing his forehead against yours, giving you another small kiss.

“can we sleep a bit? i’m tired. i wanna forget everything about this morning.” he said laying down on his his hip, facing you. you nodded, putting your arm around his waist. he did the same, closing his eyes.

you were out of words, you were laying down with your crush, kissed him and revealed your feelings. you dreamt about this day since you met him.

slowly, you fell asleep, dreaming of you and bill living happily together.

#tokio hotel #tokiohotel #bill kaulitz #fandom #writing #masterlist #fanfic #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz tokio hotel

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holylottie · 3 months

Text

aching bones, aching teeth [06]

masterlist [socials and TW's]

PAIRING — Lottie Matthews x fem!reader

CHAPTER SINOPSIS — Lottie always gets more than she can have.

NOTE — english is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you might find. Please read the tw's first! Thank you for reading :)

1996

You stood still at the lake. Shauna tried to take you back to the cabin but to no avail, you couldn't bring yourself to move, to think.

You cursed god, got mad at the divine and, consequently, got mad at Lottie. How could she allow such a thing, how could she not know?

Your clothes were wet as you kept yourself sitting on the holy lake — as holy as a sin could be — crying, sobbing loudly. You couldn't scream, your sobs weren't filled with sounds, but they were filled with a new-found hurt: you just entered a new life, a life without Laura, without her sweet words and thoughtful prayers. You didn't hear Natalie arriving, but you felt her steady hands on your shoulders, she pulled you up, holding you with a tight grip while silent.

You didn't bother to speak.

She helped you change your soaked clothes and she made you lay down on the floor, next to an almost sleep Lottie. You two stared at each other, sharing a pain no one else in the cabin could understand.

Lottie reaches out for your hand — you give it to her —, holding your lamb plushie on the other.

Sleep comes slowly, a calm slumber.

But when you wake up, you are terrified.

However, you embrace the tears and make a friendship with the fear, you did not mind the nightmare. There, Laura was alive.

— All okay, Tiq? — Shauna stared at you, from across the room, giving you a gentle tiny smile.

You knew she only meant to be nice, but to someone even consider the possibility of you answering yes, it was devastating, horrifying. Nothing would ever be okay.

You nod, anyway, getting up and putting your mattress on top of Charlotte.

It’s way later than when you normally wake up, but you suppose the girls gave you all a break since the last events. Your stomach is aching for food, and you have to hold onto the walls to not fall when you start to walk.

Shauna and you went outside, and she looked at the leaves you had bring to the girls, their taste was horrible, and there weren’t many of them, but it was better than sleeping on an empty stomach.

— I don’t think I would ever say that, but I do miss cutting meat.

You giggle at Shauna’s remark, your eyes drifting off to Jackie, sitting a few steps away from you two. Shauna’s eyes were on her too.

— Do you think this will end someday?

— Everything does eventually, Tiq. In a good or bad way… everything ends.

— You're harvesting then?!

Like a sinner, a nômade living on the consequences of Adam and Eve.

You hear Mari’s voice and your whole body gets on alert. You get up from your kneeling position, poorly trying to hide the little strawberry patch with your own legs.

She pulled you by the collar of your shirt, her face so close to yours that you could almost see the anger in her irises.

— it’s not for you.

You simply say, filled with hate too, angry at her for finding out,angry at her for being angry at you.

— Oh, yeah for who’s it then For your teen crush, yn?

Her voice is so bitter that your ears hurt. You hated arguments, you hated people arguing, especially at you.

— What makes Lottie more deserving of it than any of us?

You stare at her, and then you laugh.

Silly stupid little Mari.

How could one’s own mind be so deeply wrong? How could one’s own mind compare themselves with something as big and holy as a god?

— When they grow, they will be mine and Akilah’s too.

As she said that, she left.

You felt the urge to step on all your work, to dig your fingers deep on the dirt and take all those seeds elsewhere.

Of course you felt sad, everyone was thinking you all would die — and everyone was pretending to not care about the imminent death and only worry about the stupid ball. You weren’t mad because there was a ball, you were mad because everyone was suddenly losing hope.

For you, the absence of hope was a death of the soul. Soon, the body would go too.

What was the point of life if you didn’t hope for things to get better? You wanted to cry, but who were you to deny an opportunity to dance with Lottie? To deny an opportunity to dance at all?

If there was one thing Lottie liked, it was watching the moon. She would sit by the window and concentrate so hard that she could almost hear it saying goodnight.

She didn't hear you arrive, you didn't announce yourself, but a snap of your mouth did.

You smiled ungraciously and waved softly at her. Your furred ears costume had little ribbons on it, Lottie saw it as a sign: you were a gift from the wild to her.

— Why does your mom call you bambi? — you approached, leaning on the tree next to the girl and looking in the same direction as her.

— It's because I jump around when I'm excited. — Lottie smiled, looking at you; You were different, lighter. Maybe it was the mood of the upcoming party, nobody felt pressured to be someone different in the dark lights and upcoming death.

— What should I call you then? My deer? — you laughed, playing on the pun of dear and deer.

Lottie Matthews always knew what to say, making cheeky comments and being the outgoing type, but you took all her words, she could never finish a sentence, let alone a seductive one.

Ignoring the way her heart was skipping a beat at being called "mine", she followed what was comfortable: concentrating on the joke.

She liked hearing it. She didn't know if it was her instinct as an only child who was born without having to share, but the idea of being the only one to whom you felt comfortable enough to open up so much made her chest fill with pride.

She tried to push aside her selfish thoughts of keeping what you said to herself.

— Have you ever read Sarah Ruhl? In one of her short stories, she tells about a great American surgeon called Halsted. He was married to a nurse whom he loved very much. One day Halsted noticed that his wife's hands were red when she came back from surgery. — you were so enthusiastic, explaining everything with such joy, how could she remember and know so many general and random facts? How could Lottie pay attention to her costume when all she could do was stare at your lips? — And then he invented rubber gloves. For her. Sarah said it was one of medicine's great love stories, talking about how the difference is made out of love.

Lottie stared at her, smiling and vaguely remembering reading something about the construction of love. She knew that her feelings for you were big enough to make her invent something as good as gloves. Even if at the moment it was something as small as a party.

— Do you think everyone is going to have a love story this good? Or does the universe choose a few lucky people at random, Lotts? — you thought out loud, then laughed mockingly and denied it, asking her to let it go. Lottie smiled, handing you a box.

You had to hold back tears when you opened it and saw a tiara made out of leaves and flowers. You smiled happily.

You couldn't form words, so you just hugged her tightly.

— Your antlers are a bit too big — you laughed.

And Lottie felt the inspiration of a scientist.

2021

You loved gardening.

Everything you did in the mud, came back in some way. All your efforts would eventually lead to something, it didn’t had any subjectivity on it, it was simple and clear: plant it, take care of it and receive it.

You had a notebook to note every single one of your seeds and gardening cares, some tips and even pictures of your most beloved ones. However, your favorite of it all was, without a doubt, your strawberry patch.

It was so incredibly taken care of, strawberries as red as blood, leaves as green as hope. You would sit there, putting water, take off bugs with delicate fingers and eat a fruit straight from the patch.

— I never liked strawberries too much, most of them don’t taste like anything.

Laura said, playing with one of the ladybugs.

Or, rather, Laura’s ghost said. Today, she felt adventurous, following you outside of your house. Her clothes dripped water, and her neck was burned by flames. It was an unusual sight — that was already usual to you.

— You can’t know they all taste like that if you don’t eat all of them.

— That’s stupid — she giggles, shaking her head — you don’t need to know everything to hate it.

You smiled, taking off your gloves and smiling at her.

— I was never able to see the crickets; I used to get so deeply upset about it… — You confessed, your face holding a nostalgic smile; It was a strange action in Laura’s point of view: you were so young, what could you have in the past to be longed for? — Until one day a cricket got into my room and I ran away… I’m afraid that once a person truly sees something, she will wish to go back and never see anything at all. like you, with a strawberry.

You shake your head, it was funny, confess sins to a ghost.

There was a whole life in those woods, hungry and harvest, misery and tragedy and hope, and there was birth and death.

And it's hard because you can't kill the person you were in that lifetime, but you also can't still be her. So there's just this ghost of yourself lurking over your shoulder, despising your every move, watching you sin.

— And guess what, Laura: tomorrow when I wake up, I'll have a wonderful day, and when I put my head on my pillow to sleep, I'll think again: how much happier I would've been if I had been doing this at seventeen.

When on the stage, you felt a flower fall on your feet, you got down and picked it up, recognizing it as a white lily.

You didn’t see her right away, but you felt it.

Your soul was being pulled toward hers and then your eyes went to find her, looking non-stop for someone who would make your breath stop.

Twenty five years later, and you would still recognize her blind. You would still acknowledge her presence even if all your senses were compromised, for you would only be you if there was the flame of your love for lottie inside your body.

You just hoped that the you’s of other universe’s had a more kind life to love her.

1996

The doomsday ball

You’ve never felt happier as you did when Lottie asked you to go as her date to the ball. Finally, the rainbow before the thunderstorm.

Your mother said that there were five hells — and that one of them was destined only for people like you, but you didn't care about that anymore. If hell were as warm as Charlotte's embrace, you would walk through the gates with a smile on her face.

You had always had many doubts about the Bible.

You read the verses, imagining yourself in the places of angels and heroes — even though the position of sinners, and those who sought mercy, always seemed more real to you (as if you had been born with your hands in prayer and your knees already scraped).

You looked at the saints, seeing them deprive themselves of their desires to finally find the way to God. You thought about what you wanted — Charlotte — and saw no difference between your desire and your destiny.

You smile, seeing everyone so pretty and happy, like things were supposed to be since the beginning. You take a deep breath, going to take a sip of your drink as you watch Van e Tai give a kiss.

A whole new world seems to show up in front of you.

A world of possibilities and wishes, of love and care.

A world where there were no sins, only passion.

— C'mon, dance with me! — Lottie’s arms were moving like tentacles, like a snake calling you to sin.

Eager to please, you bit the apple. Your movements were too graceful for a party, you didn't know how to move without rules to follow, without an established pattern to be guided to.

One of Lottie's hands went to your left cheek, caressing it slightly while the other was holding a makeshift cigarette Natalie had made — you wondered what would burn more: the flame she was smoking or her touch.

— You're just such a pretty little lamb, aren't you?

Lottie’s tone was condescending, but she had a playful, even flirtatious smile for you — the look of a predator who knows how to tear every piece of his prey apart.

Lottie leans closer, her nose almost touching her lover's one. You could feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. Lottie pulls your body to her.

— I just can't hide how I feel... I want you so much. I've never wanted someone as much as you, darling... — she presses her lips together as she goes in to whisper something in your ear — Your heart is so sweet...

Lottie gets even closer, her voice barely audible:

— I want to taste it.

And the closer she gets, the far away she seems. You don't know why, but the booze might have made your thoughts and vision unclear.

You smile, giggling happily, your hips moving to the music playing inside your head.

Lottie’s mouth gets close, close to your chest and, having access to your skin by the cut of your dress, she licks your chest. Gently, at first, then eagerly, hungrily. Her mouth leaves hicks on your skin, you feel the blood being pulled and released and then you feel the first bite. Her teeth penetrate your skin.

You cry out, but it's a muffed one, not out of pain, but out of relief. You get out of breath, your shaking hands going to her hair, caressing it.

While you felt your meat being taken away from you, while Lottie took what always had belonged to her, your mind was feverishing with thoughts, screaming confessions:

I cannot confess anymore, it is not enough, I need to devour my sins, to let them perish from where they came from.

Biting my tongue, I wish to bite my hand.

I want the marks, I need the flaws and claws and teeth teeth teeth

Lottie takes a step away, her eyes watery from the pleasure she had felt, her fingertips aching to touch you, her teeth aching for more.

Her mouth was completely bloody, with your red ink falling down her chin.

— You are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen.

You felt the urge to kiss Travis too, only to be able to feel Lottie's lips, but then Shauna kissed him and suddenly the thought made you sick.

Your head was dizzy, you missed Laura.

You sit out the ground of the cabin, not able to recognize faces or things, you can hear voices but none of them is clear. So you stay still, trying to understand why your vision was so blurred.

When your eyes truly open, you are alone. A deep fear settles onto your chest, and you start to breathe heavily, your lips quivering and bloody tears rolling down your face. You put your tongue out, tasting their salt flavor.

You did not pray that night, but you had a serious personal conversation with Jesus. You hoped he had good days, good enough to show him that life isn't just about dying for other people's sins.

#yellowjackets #itmighthavebeenlibrary #aching bones aching teeth #reader insert #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #lottie matthews x you #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #cannibalism as a metaphor for love

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paradisepoisoned · 1 year

Text

I'm drunk, and work is consuming my life, so I give you the Death Note tattoo AU no one asked for.

-L was a world-famous tattoo artist, but no one really knows what he looks like except his clients and disgruntled employees, but his work is well recognized. Moved to New York to open his own tattoo shop but he's kinda a mystery in the industry and he's one of those owners that doesn't really show up to his own business anymore he rarely tattoos and when he does its only things he wants to do. Will fuck off to Cambodia for a month or something and then randomly show up to collect money and sleep there for a week.

-L has only ever took two apprentices and they were Mello and Near. He took them on at the same time and it was a complete disaster. L refuses to take on an apprentice ever again

-Near specializes in sacred geometry, mandalas, and all that tedious crazy shit. Line work is impeccable. I feel like he'd be great at lettering and that fine line bullshit that everyone else hates. No one takes him seriously as an artist cause he looks like he's fucking twelve. He has amazing work but is absolutely horrible with clients due to his non existent social skills.

-Mello is the black and gray guy. He's one of those guys who just whips out a 23 mag and goes to town and bangs out a half sleeve in a few hours. I can see him doing crazy horror shit and those big crazy religious pieces like praying hands statues and all that good shit. He doesn't do color and doesn't like anything with a lot of linework. Looks scary but kinda a softie.

-Near is great at linework. Mello is great at shading. They compete and fight on a regular basis. They have an ongoing silent war stealing each other's supplies,clients, etc. (They're secretly in love tho, deal with it)

-Matt definitely the anime bruh I could see him doing some super colorful new school anime type shit he's a street shop kinda guy at heart tho hell do the dirty jobs no one else wants to do and he's FAST he can bang out your little infinity symbol butterfly feather clusterfuck matching finger tattoo with your 13 friends no problem. He wears goggles while tattooinglmaoaoa idk why, but he also gives me big piercer energy, lol

-I'm sorry but I can't leave out Linda. I feel like she's the color girl. Specializes in cover ups and botanical tattoos but shes well rounded and can take mostly anything that walks in. Probably the most organized artist out of all of them and keeps the shop from falling apart on a daily basis. I feel like L also trusts her to be the one to manage the shop while he's not there since the others are all completely unhinged, lol. Shop mom 100%

-Matt and Mello hit the bar at least once a week after work and talk shit till 4am

-B Specializes in trash polka fucking fight me on it.

-B and L apprenticed together and were working together when L opened his own shop but B kinda went down a dark path and him and L drifted apart and now have beef so B is the artist no one talks about (except Mello cause I feel B woulda played a big part in his apprenticeship)

-B also kinda legitimately tried to burn the whole shop down before he left soooooo...

-L has kept B's room open for years, hoping he gets his shit together one day and comes back.

#death note #death note headcanons #tattoo au #wammys boys #wammys house #wammys kids #Mello #mihael keehl #nate river #meronia #mello x near #Near #Matt #mail jeevas #Linda #L #BB #Beyond birthday #headcanon

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yandere-fics · 8 months

Note

109 and 29 for Abigail, just the perfect amount of angst idk

109. “I know she’s cute. BUT SHE’S MINE! TOUCH HER AND I’LL KILL YOU!!”

29. “Stop giving me that look! Stop looking at me as if I’m a monster!”

(Per the usual, sentence structure is changed to fit the characters personality. Abigail doesn't scream alot, she's more of the hiss in your ear type of woman. Hope this was the kind of angst you were hoping for. I didn't expect to write so much for this but it just kept coming to me.)

Abigail utterly adored you, her little lover, so cute. As the knight who had pledged her loyalty to you, she felt the need to show you off. Such a romantic story, the knight set to be the Duke of one of the most prominent duchies in the kingdom, and the cute lady she had pledged herself to who would one day be her Duchess. It only made sense to show you off at parties so everyone would know of your love story.

It was hard to control her temper though when people constantly approached you. Perhaps they assumed you were only her lover and not someone she took seriously, befriending the lover of the future Duke Parley so when the relationship ends, they may be able to woe you. It certainly couldn't hurt to marry someone who had such a powerful connection, and you were easy to love so the court swarmed you like disgusting maggots.

"Dame Parley, where in the world did you find such an enchanting creature?" The woman standing before her, swirling a glass of wine was not at all subtle with her leering. How shameless could she be to show your current lover that she wanted to seduce you away.

Baroness Rudia, far below your status, even if you were single it would be a sham for you to go with her. Not even worth Abigail requesting a duel, not that a mere Baroness could afford a luxury knight that could face Abigail in a duel. There wasn't a knight in the kingdom who would likely take Abigail on in a duel, no matter how much they liked their master.

"Lady Rudia, I am well aware that my partner is quite cute," She looked around the ballroom quickly making sure you weren't within hearing range. You always hated when she threatened the flies that surrounded you. "But Lady Y/N is mine and if you lay a filthy hand on her, I will have to end your pathetic life."

The Baroness looked taken aback as she tried to think of a response, something that would allow her to leave the ballroom alive and maybe with a shred of dignity.

"Don't think I warned you from the good of my heart, I merely felt bad for all the people in your house who would suffer if the head were to fall. Be gone Lady Rudia, my sweetheart is coming over and I don't want your presence to taint her happiness." Abigail spoke first, sparing the Baroness from further embarrassment as she scuttled off.

You knew something was off when Baroness Rudia, who had been so kind to you earlier, ran from the ballroom in near tears. You couldn't understand why Abigail was always so rude to the people who were so kind to you. You understand she had a high status but it didn't mean she had to treat those lower so horribly. You knew better than to cause a scene in public so you held your tongue until you were in the carriage later that night.

"Abby? Why did Baroness Rudia run from the ballroom tonight? Surely you're not letting your temper get the best of you again." Perhaps a bit confrontational but Abigail did this often and it did make you reconsider your relationship to her.

When you had first began to date her you assumed people were merely exaggerating when they described Dame Parley as a beast, not even human. Trained to kill with precision, without even picking up a sword, she could decimate her enemies. The product of centuries of the Parley house trying to train the best swordsmen.

"Don't give me that look, Sweetheart. You look at me as if I'm some kind of monster." She didn't like when you challenged her behavior, you were supposed to be docile towards her, never snippy, only her sweet lover.

"You wouldn't want me to misunderstand your words would you? Sweetheart?" She was warning you to apologize for the tone you'd taken with her. Something you refused to back down from. All your nice friends were being chased away and you wouldn't allow that.

"You didn't answer my question, Lady Parley. Why do all my friends keep running away in tears whenever they speak to you?" The chuckle that came out of her was bone-chilling. Making you feel it would have been best to just cow to her whims.

"Y/N, is this how you would like to spend our night? I'd prefer to return to my manor with my lover on my arm, instead of having to discipline her for disobedience. I'm sure you'd prefer that as well." She stood and leaned over you, putting her hands on the back of the carriage seat behind you, seemingly undaunted by how the carriage joustled.

"Yes I'd like that very much." You hated how you always gave in so quickly.

"Then say the words I want to hear, Sweetheart." She took your chin in one of her hands, forcing you to look into her eyes.

"I don't think you're a monster Abby. There's no way I'd ever think that." Even if you did there was no way you could tell her at this point, not with how intimidating she could be.

#yandere oc #yandere lesbian #yandere x reader #yandere asks #yandere x y/n #yandere scenarios #my oc abigail

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dearhargrove · 2 years

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oh, hiii! since i'm loving everything you wrote with billy and requests are open i would like to request a one shot with the reader being comforted by him as a boyfriend about her inexperience. like the reader still being a virgin, never drank alcohol, never smoked and trying not to be naive but couldn't help it, maybe neurodivergent coded. she tries to impress billy at first and pretends she's like an average teenager but he knows and she confesses in an angst way. thank you! ♡

Closer and closer

Summary Getting closer to Billy meant feeling more and more bothered by how little you knew about whatever lifestyle he had going on. So, you pretend to know what it was like to drink regularly, smoke and, well, sleep with someone.

word count 2783

tags/warnings implied sexual content, hickeys, drinking

notes saw the request. Wrote it. Felt good about it. Re read. Still felt good. Posted it ;)! This feels ungrateful to say but I haven't been getting as many notes, so iwas a little unmotivated to do anything haha. Enjoy this <3

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You sigh as you listen to your best friend try to explain what it's like to be wasted, but failing horribly to bring her point across. She sighs and falls on her back dramatically, "(y/n), seriously, just get drunk once. It's not a big deal, we get something and I'll take care of you!"

Shaking your head you put the pen you've been playing with aside and focus on her, "I don't want to. I just want to know what it's like so I can… you know." She knew and she hated it. In her opinion you should either just actually do what you were pretending to be doing or drop him.

"If he's stuck with you for so long without making any moves just tell him. That boy's got a crush on you, or something," you blush and throw a pillow against her head. "That's not true and you know it!" You're burning up from embarrassment - why would she even ask that? It's obvious he would grow bored of you sooner or later, you'd just rather it be later which was also the reason behind your pretense.

Besides everyone's belief he could be nice if he wanted to, it just took him trust and feeling safe - which most people didn't get the chance to know. When he found you waiting inside your car to bring your friend home after she was done partying he found it amusing at first, waiting to make fun of you because who waits inside their car while there's a party going on? It had turned into you timidly lecturing him about his alcohol intake and him flustering you in turn.

"C'mon, stop being so naive. He never sticks with someone, why with you?" The jealousy and confusion was obvious in her voice and it was kind of hurtful that she didn't expect you to be able to keep in contact with someone like him, but then again you could understand her point.

"All I know is that he's nice. To me, at least," you add while playing with your fingers. "You've been saying that all month and yet he never talks to you outside of you meeting up." That shuts you up because he really didn't. In school or whenever you met coincidentally he'd ignore you. Grace gets up and brushes off her pants, checking her pink wrist watch. "Shit, I gotta go. See you in school tomorrow!" She gathers her jacket and is out of your room in a split second, leaving you with your thoughts.

Should you do as she said? Get drunk and maybe even sleep with someone?

When you and Billy met up the next time it was awkward. All you thought about were Grace's words; when would he stop spending time with you? There was nothing he got from being with you like this.

"You listening, doll?" He asks with a small smile, pointing the singular fry he was holding in your direction. You smile a little and shake your head, then nodding to ensure you were paying attention.

But he stops talking and pushes the food to the side of the table, leaning his chin on his propped up arm.

"What's on your mind?" He sounds unlikely concerned but kept his cool facade, wanting to know what was going on, and it got you; how could you resist when he looked at you like that?

"It's nothing," you decline and reach for some fries in nervousness. He watches you carefully before huffing and leaning back, crossing his arms, "What? You tired of me?"

Your head shoots up and you vehemently deny it, where did he get that? "No! No… uh, I'm just distracted, I guess." He smiles a little at your loud disagreement, "Good. Wouldn't have let go of you anyway," he adds absentmindedly before inquiring further, "What's on your mind? Must be important enough to distract you from me."

You chuckle and hit his arm, why was he so arrogant and why did you like it when he was? "It's just, Grace said some things yesterday and I can't get them out of my head," you admit.

He nods, "I never liked her," his voice is dismissive and he drops his arms from where they were crossed to brush a hand through his hair, he scoffs, "She's really intrusive."

On one hand you want to defend her, she wasn't intrusive, just curious. But on the other hand you knew he was right, after all you'd seen her dozen attempts at getting in his pants yourself, so you stay quiet. "Listen, I don't care she's your friend and shit, you know who's good for you, but if she said something that stays on your mind, it better be something positive. Wouldn't want you upset on a date with me, huh?" He always jokes about your meetups being dates and it's got you shy with a capital S.

"No- that's not," you stop yourself and rub your hands over your face before breathing in, "I don't know. She made some comments about our, uh, acquaintance and it just stuck with me," you explain.

"What 'comments'? If it's about me I'd like to know, princess." His voice was a little demanding, but demanding enough for you to look up and make nervous eye contact with him. One raise of his eyebrow and you're talking, "She just questioned why you stick with me. That's all."

His reaction was different from what you expected; you thought he'd laugh about it and shrug it off, but instead he frowned. "Well, tell her I'm sticking around you because you're not as basic as she is and neither are you intrusive. As she is," you're a little shocked but also relieved because that was a good sign, right? To you, it sounded like he didn't plan on giving this up soon.

After that, the conversation died down into something more relaxed and the exchange was easy, just as it always was.

Looking at the glass bottle in front of you made you nervous - you'd bought it out of spite just to show Grace that you could be like everyone else! But now you're unsure. You were alone because your parents were on a trip to visit long distance relatives, leaving you alone for the week.

You had a stare down with the bottle when the doorbell rang, echoing through the house. Confused, you get up, going to look who it is.

Seeing Billy standing on your front door step was what you had been least expecting. Between his lips sat one of his Marlboros, halfway through already. "Evening, doll," he muses, his hand in the pockets of his jean jacket. "Uh, good evening?" You hesitated and then stepped aside, guessing he wanted to be let in.

You were a little embarrassed when the realization settled in that you were in your pajamas, a discarded old t-shirt with some sweatpants that definitely had holes in it.

Your face was hot but you ignored it, "Uh, what are you doing here?"

"Can I not visit my best friend?" He jokes and looks for an ashtray, only to find none. He watches you play with a string on the shirt and laughs a little, god were you cute.

"Let's get to your room," it was mostly out of curiosity of what it looked like but in the back of his head he was also afraid one of your parents would come home unexpectedly and catch him here.

You stood still for a second, "But… I didn't clean." At this he laughs out loud just to realize you were dead serious when you stay silent. "I really don't mind, princess," he very much knew how much you loved when he called you any pet names, so he did at any chance (apart from the fact he loved doing it, because what else would he call you?).

When he came into your room you waited at the door for a second before seeing something that made your eyes go wide. He turns to whatever you're staring at and bristles, vodka? You? He was utterly confused as you definitely had never touched alcohol before. He knew very well you were pretending with whatever you said about experience, but he enjoyed when you tried explaining something you hadn't experienced yourself.

"Who left this here?" He asks as he swiftly scoops it up and looks at you, waiting. "Uhm, no one." You try not to appear as nervous as you truly were, it'd ruin everything you had lied about so far.

With a barely audible whine you rush to excuse its presence, "Grace is coming over in a minute and I wanted to drink something with her." You're a little proud because it wasn't that bad of an excuse, was it?

"Love, I know you're lying. What's this doing here?" His posture was intimidating and you felt like you were being scolded, it was kind of scary. But at the same time your head was exploding because 'love' was new. And you liked it. A lot.

"I'm not lying," you defend yourself, knowing it was useless. He just sighs and sits on your bed, motioning for you to come close. You hesitantly do so, his hands settling on your waist after laying the bottle aside, the skin where his hands lay was tingling and warm. Was this what heaven was like?

He looks at you, and to others - that don't know him - it may have seemed indifferent. But you saw that wasn't what it was, he was… disappointed? Definitely nothing good, at least.

"I know you were pretending with everything, just tell me why you got this?" He asked, and God, why did his voice have to be so… luring? You caved in immediately, though you tried keeping yourself from it. "Well I wanted to know what I was talking about and Grace couldn't explain it… So I thought this would be the best to do."

He looks somewhat upset as he reaches up to lay a hand on your cheek. He was unnaturally sweet, but you still saw the rough edges of him with the way he struggled keeping his hands a light touch.

"Don't do it just because others want you to or make you feel like you have to, yeah? Being drunk is not all that, anyway." He says and you pout just a little, "Then why do you drink so much?"

He chuckles and takes his hand away again, "Because sometimes that's the best way to forget," he doesn't elaborate and you can feel he doesn't want to, so you stay quiet.

"Will you stay friends with me?" It was implied when he said he'd seen through you anyway but you wanted to make sure. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm nothing special. I've never done anything that you constantly do and I'm all naive and… I don't know. There's nothing you could talk about with me."

He stands up again and you flinch a little, would he leave now? Would he tell everyone and make fun of you? You don't dare look up so you keep your eyes on the now messy bed sheets from where he sat.

But he reaches out and places a hand under your chin, making you look up just in time to see him lean forward. The kiss is awkward but satisfying - awkward because you have no idea what you're doing and satisfying because he leads you as best as he can (and because you are kissing Billy Hargrove right now, what bad was there?).

When you part he smiles a little, "Don't do what you don't want to. But if you really want to get drunk I'll take care of you, yeah?"

After that night you start dating, and although there's a lot he has to explain and show you he doesn't seem to mind. In school you behave like you don't know each other - you hadn't wanted to be thrust into his social circles, enjoying the quiet atmosphere surrounding you.

The unseen winks and smirks were only between the two of you, his never ending flirting keeping you entertained all throughout the day.

Today evening is a pep rally, and since he played on the basketball team you came to watch. Grace was positively surprised, she had always wanted you two to go, just to fawn over all of the guys or get drunk with someone after the game (though that was just her).

Now, you have your own boy to appreciate all you want. You suppress your smile when he sends a wink to you, your best friend freaking out, claiming it was aimed at her. You just smile happily.

When the game is over, your school's team had won, with many points ahead of the other one. Billy loudly whooped and took his shirt off, something that made you shy but also a little jealous (which you hadn't experienced before). Him and the team celebrated a few minutes and you waited outside meanwhile. Grace had left a few minutes ago when she found someone to leave with.

You didn't really expect Billy to come home with you today as he was probably out partying with his team, but just in case you waited a little. And to your surprise he approached you - with his shirt on - and a big grin on his face.

"Saw me on the field, babe? Isn't your boyfriend so handsome?" You huff but hug him back when he wraps his arms around you. He smelled fresh, having showered right when he had the chance.

"Get in the car, your super amazing boyfriend needs appreciation and that fancy hair thing you do," he demands. It looked and sounded like he was pouting, and mentally he most definitely was, but to the outside he was still intimidating.

Grumbling about his spoiled behavior you got in as well.

When you arrived and got out most of it turned into a blur. Not only were you tired (it was nearing 11:30 after all), but also things got a bit… heated.

You were sitting in his lap while he kissed down your neck, sucking some hickeys here and there. You were enjoying it but were also worried when he found out you were completely inexperienced when it got to this.

Would he be turned off? Well, obviously, right? He'd have to explain everything and it would ruin the mood..! Would he leave you and get off by himself? Because you couldn't do it?

He must've noticed how stiff you were so he parted and placed soft pecks on your cheeks before cocking his head to the side, "What's wrong?"

You look to the side in embarrassment, disappointed in yourself. "I, uh… don't know how to..? I've never…"

You expect him to make fun of you or whatever, but instead he smiles warmly and turns your head back to him. "And? We don't have to do it right now. But I can show you if you want to. I'm probably the best example for this, hm?" He smugly says and you giggle, hitting his shoulder.

"Who knows if you are," You tease and his gaze darkens. He lurches the few inches still between you forward and leans his forehead against yours. "Allow me to show you, baby."

Throughout it he's awfully careful, always asking how you felt, if it was good, etcetera. You enjoyed every second, but your favorite was definitely being cuddled up against him after. You were both naked, except for your underwear, so his body heat warmed you up a lot.

"You were right." He lifts his head and sends you a tired, confused look. "You're the best example." When he gets it he rolls his eyes amusedly, before laying his head back down. You put your hand in his hair and slowly massage his scalp, happy you had him in your life.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #dacre montgomery x reader #dacre x reader #dacre montgomery

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alanna-artroid · 4 months

Text

Jackbox Headcanons!

I felt like sharing some headcanons today. Just a few ideas I have for some of the hosts. I'll label each appropriately.

Master Mentalist:

He's skilled in various forms of magic. Hypnosis is just his favorite/specialty.

Rarely, if ever, raises his voice. He always speaks in a calm tone. Even if he's angry, which is also a rare occurrence, he'll still never raise his voice at someone. If HE'S mad at you, you've REALLY messed up.

Knows hundreds of ways to help people relax/get a good night's sleep. Good teas, soothing music, relaxed muscles, the works. It's easier to hypnotize people when they're relaxed. Helps get them into a trance.

That being said, he's TERRIBLE at going to sleep himself. He has tired eyes for a reason. It's not that he can't go to sleep, he just refuses to sleep at a decent time. The boy will stay up all night if you let him.

He enjoys hypnotizing the other hosts, just to see how they're affected by hypnosis. (With their permission, of course) Some of them are fighters, taking a considerable amount of time. Others soak it up like a sponge, rapidly falling into a trance.

As his (distant) cousin, he knows Schmitty very well. MM has been busy running his show, but they've kept in touch over the years. When Schmitty recommended him to Jackbox, he was on board with the idea.

Speaking of Schmitty, MM ADORES the Quips. They're just too cute! Likewise, the Quips really like him too. (Then again, the Quips like everybody) They really like playing in his magic hat.

He's easily startled by loud noises. It's one of the few times his voice is raised. He'll let out a loud yelp or squeal when he flinches. He no likey.

Jerri Rig

Is very logical in her approach to things. You HAVE to be when dealing with time-travel tech.

Can make all sorts of gadgets and gizmos out of anything. She DID turn a fridge into a time-travel device.

Secretly gets really excited about things. She tries to hide it as if she doesn't care, but you can see it in her smile.

Slightly cybernetic. The big box on her head DOES come off, but she prefers to keep it attached. Patches up a HORRIBLE head injury she suffered a long time ago. Let's just say there's a reason the box only has one eye.

Has a love-hate relationship with Master Mentalist. She often tries to find scientific explanations for his magic and is frustrated when this doesn't work. He finds it amusing. <3

Plays mini golf in her spare time. That's how she got the idea to use LOW scores for Time Jinx.

Acts sassy but actually really cares about people. She knows all the Time Jinx players personally since they're all time travelers.

Likes to listen to music while she works. Usually, remixes and electronic music.

Dictionary Keeper

Half angel, half devil. Mostly takes after her angelic side but can whip out her devilish features if needed.

Lives in a library in the clouds. More specifically, there's an apartment-esque part of the library she lives in. Her area has all the living essentials. A cute kitchen, a cozy bedroom, even the bathroom is pretty.

The ULTIMATE book nerd. She's read SO many books and is always eager to get more for the library.

Super friendly. She'll happily welcome anyone into the library. When she worked on Pack 6, she quickly befriended the other hosts. Even [REDACTED] was no match for her overwhelming sweetness! (They're dating.)

Finds words in the strangest possible places. In her sock drawer, in her hair, on her balcony, anywhere!

She's learning how to play the piano. This is shown in the credits song, which she performs herself.

Uses Dixie as a nickname, as Dictionary Keeper is a bit of a mouthful.

#jackbox #jackbox games #redacted #adorable #headcanon #master mentalist #hypnotorious #jerri rig #time jinx #dictionarium #dixie #dictionary keeper #jackbox party pack #headcanons #jackbox headcanons

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