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babyleostuff · 7 months

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roses and dahlias | choi seungcheol

summary | [requested by: @lifeisnotajuunice] the reader being a florist and friends with dk, so one day he brings the whole team to meet reader at their shop and scoups is instantly drawn in by them

genre | fluff

pairing | idol!seungcheol x florist!reader

word count | 2.2k

author's note | while writing this i've realized how little i know about flowers (i literally have no idea how half of these flowers are called in my native language)

Taking a last look at the bouquet you were holding, you hummed in approval, weaving in some final pieces of baby breath to add a soft touch that would stand out in comparison to the crimson red roses and gerbera daisies. “Whoever this bouquet is meant for must be a very lucky person,” you thought, gently putting the flowers in a vase and placing it next to the eight others that were supposed to be picked up in the afternoon.

“They are for your friend, right?” Nodding at your colleague, you wiped your hands on the apron you got from said friend, looking one last time at the bouquet, which now looked even prettier as it stood on the sunlit windowsill. “They are having some sort of party for the whole team, and they ordered nine compositions for the staff,” you explained, looking over at your co-worker.

“They look great, I’m sure they’ll love it.”

“To be honest, I don’t think they know much about flowers, so anything will be good for them,” you laughed, remembering how Seokmin gave you peonies thinking they were roses. You spent the next ten minutes explaining the differences between those two, surely boring your best friend to death.

In his defence, they are kind of similar.

“Will he pick up all of this by himself?”

“Oh, no, he and some of his bandmates are coming later in the afternoon,” you said, nervously chewing on your bottom lip. The fact that most of them would be coming over in a couple of hours, made you feel a lot more anxious than it should.

You and Seokmin have known each other for so many years now, yet you’ve never met all of his friends properly. But there was one specific person that you were the most nervous to meet.

Choi Seungcheol.

You always brushed it off as a silly little crush on a guy you’ve never even met, because no matter how delusional his fancams made you, that was the reality. The biggest interaction you’ve had was liking his Instagram photo, which you immediately regretted, and it’s not like he would pay much attention to you anyways. Still, you could feel your chest tighten at the thought of him actually meeting him.

The rest of the day was busy as always. You helped the customers with picking flowers, making sure to put your heart into every bouquet you made. You’ve always wondered what history would each of these bouquets hold after leaving your shop - because to you, it was merely a job to put together a beautiful piece, but for the receiving person, the flowers meant so much more than that.

Soon, the sun was setting, and people were rushing home to their loved ones, streets busy and loud. You proudly looked at the final order you put together, rolling your shoulders, hoping it would release some tension that accumulated throughout the day.

“We’re here,” suddenly a loud voice pulled you out of your thoughts, startling you a bit in the process. You quickly put away all of the sharp tools that could harm you by accident. “And who would that be?” you joked, not bothered to check who's just entered.

Two strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, and your back met a familiar chest.

“You weren’t at the concert last week,” Seokmin pouted, when you turned around to face him. “Well, I have my responsibilities you know,” you laughed at his disappointed expression. “Besides, I wasn’t able to buy the tickets.”

“You know you could’ve just called me,” he said, realising you from the hug, “I know, I know.”

That’s when you noticed a group of other people watching you. And not just any people.

“Right, I don’t think you’ve properly met before,” Seokmin said, putting an arm around your shoulder. “These are the only ones that bothered to help me, so they’re the best,” he said proudly, looking at his friends.

“Don’t let Soonyoung hear this, or he’ll get mad,” said Seungkwan, you believed. You also recognised the tallest, and the one with glasses next to him - Mingyu and Wonwoo. “And that’s Joshua, Chan and Seungcheol,” your friend pointed at the blond man standing furthest away from you.

You waved your hand at them awkwardly, clutching the cloth you were cleaning with tightly in your hand. They all seemed extremely nice, nothing but smiles on their faces, yet it was quite underwhelming meeting them all at once.

And it wasn’t even the whole band.

As your gaze drifted back to Seungcheol, the realisation that he was actually real hit you slowly, like - he really was standing right in front of you. And he was as perfect as a person could be.

“Don’t worry, we’ll just grab the flowers and leave,” he said, nodding in the direction of the bouquets. “Oh,” you managed to get out, trying not to sound disappointed, because of course, why would they stay any longer than needed. They were here only for the flowers.

You pointed at the windowsill where all of the vases were.

“You did them all by yourself?” Mingyu asked, his eyes wide with interest. “Yes, it’s all me,” you smiled at his fascinated gaze. It always made you feel so appreciated whenever people reacted that way at your work. It only assured you that you were great at what you were doing.

“Can I take a picture of them?” you nodded, giggling at how excited he seemed. “We’ll be here forever if he starts taking photos,” Wonwoo sighed, sliding his glasses further up his nose.

“But it really is a nice place,” Joshua said, patting Wonwoo on the shoulder. “Do you mind if we take some pictures?” he asked. Honestly speaking, even if you wanted to say “no”, you wouldn’t be able to. He looked so genuinely polite and nice.

You went back behind the counter to give the boys some freedom, yet your gaze couldn’t help but wonder toward Seungcheol. He was posing in front of a bunch of tulips and orchids, his blond hair standing out amongst the violet and burgundy flowers, making him look almost ethereal, as the setting sun was illuminating his face.

Seriously, you had to stop ogling him, even though you were sure he’d already noticed how you were staring at him. You caught him looking at you a couple of times in the span of the last ten minutes, but that couldn’t be true, it was silly for you to even think so.

The boys, on the other hand, looked like they had genuinely a lot of fun, trying to guess the different flowers’ names, and doing the silliest poses in front of the camera.

Busying yourself with cleaning, you searched around for the little stool you always used to reach the higher shelves, but it was nowhere to be seen. It’s almost like it magically disappeared when you needed it the most.

Giving up, you sighed, and got up on your tippy toes to put back all of the equipment. What you didn’t quite think about was the fact that the floral branch cutter was a lot heavier than you expected. You yelped in surprise when it suddenly started slipping out of your hands.

Right as you closed your eyes and prepared yourself to get your foot smashed by it, you felt a warm hand on your lower back, and another one holding the cutter, grabbing your own hand in the process. You slowly opened your eyes, just to be met with Seungcheol’s face.

“Are you okay?” He sounded worried, concern written all over his face. “Yes, I’m okay,” you said, although you were sure it came out more like a whisper. “It was too heavy, and it kind of slipped out.”

God, did you really have to embarrass yourself like that now?

“Are you sure everything is alright?” He asked again, as if he didn’t believe your words. You nodded, letting go of the cutter, as he reached for the shelf with ease. “Let me help you with the rest,” he said, looking at the rest of your stuff that was laying on the countertop.

“Why didn’t you ask for help, you could’ve gotten hurt,” he scolded you, his eyes looking straight into yours.

You didn’t know what to say. Why was he being so protective of you?

“Shut it, he’s just being nice,” you thought, brushing off the warm feeling settling in your stomach.

“I didn’t mean to sound rude before,” he suddenly said, fidgeting with his fingers. “I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of us. We’re kind of a lot,” he laughed, running a hand through his gorgeous hair.

His eyes had a certain softness to them, looking at you like you were something precious to him. But he looked at his members the same way, so it surely didn’t mean anything.

“It’s okay,” you managed to hold your voice steady. “I’m happy you got to take some photos. It looks like you’re having fun,” you smiled at him, trying to memorise every detail of his face before he’d be gone - his golden brown eyes, the way his long black eyelashes would flutter, and his smile, that made your knees weak.

“We do. It’s nice to do something like this after work,” he said, placing the last cutter on the shelf. “Is there anything else I could help you with?”

You looked around the shop. “No, I think that was it.”

“Okay,” it didn’t go unnoticed by you how he sounded almost upset. “I guess I’ll get back to the boys.”

It was impossible for you to know that Seungcheol was freaking out about this even more than you were.

He has seen you a couple of times before, when you were visiting Seokmin in the practice room, or at the backstage after a concert, yet he has never gotten a proper chance to talk to you, and introduce himself.

And Seungcheol was dying to do so.

He didn’t know when this crush started, probably around the time he noticed how his heart would beat a bit faster whenever he’d hear you laugh.

“I just wanted to say that all of the bouquets are amazing,” he said, the moment you came to terms with the fact that this was the end of your conversation. “They’re really beautiful.”

“Oh, thank you. I hope your staff members will love them as well.”

“I’m sure they will,” Seungcheol said. “Who’s this one for?” he asked, pointing at the garden roses and dahlias. “It’s for a wedding.”

“It’s roses and?” “Dahlias. My favourite,” you said, staring at the flowers.

“Coups, could you come here for a second?” All of a sudden, Joshua’s voice echoed through the shop, making you eternally cry, because you knew that if Seunghceol would leave now, you’d never get to talk again.

“Um, I guess I’ll see what he wants,” and with that Seungcheol walked away, leaving you disappointed and frustrated.

“Someone here has got a little crush,” Mingyu approached you right after Seungcheol left, with a smirk on his face and a weirdly suspicious expression. “What do you mean? We were just talking,” you tried to sound as nonchalant as you could, because there is no way he could know about your crush.

“I have never seen him so smiley and giggly with anyone he has just met before. His eyes are basically heart shaped when he looks at you,” he said, leaning on the counter next to you, his smirk only widening. “Besides, he kept looking in your direction all the time.”

A “what?” slipped past your mouth, making Mingyu laugh. “Well, it looks like he’s not the only one who’s a bit in love,” you smacked him on his shoulder. “I’m not in love, and neither is he.”

“Sure. Let’s get back to that when you’re at HYBE visiting your boyfriend,” he winked and walked away, leaving you stunned and speechless.

“Okay guys, let’s wrap this up and get the bouquets which we really came here for,” said Seokmin, grabbing the first vase.

“Remember to keep the tulips in full sun and to put the magnolias in water first thing when you get home,” you said, carefully helping them with each bouquet. “Seokmin, don’t hold them so tightly, you’ll break them,” you scolded your friend.

“How come all of the gym rats came to help with something as delicate as flowers,” Seokmin wondered, shifting his grip on the flowers. “I’m not a gym rat,” Joshua said, earning a swat on the shoulder from Seungcheol.

Saying your final goodbyes, each of the boys left with a bouquet, chatting and evidently more happy than you were. You tried to find Seungcheol amongst them, to take one last look, but he was nowhere to be seen.

You hugged Seokmin as he was the last to leave. “Our leader must really like you,” he whispered to you quickly, running away with a laugh before you could reply.

Closing the shop after them, you returned to the counter only to be met with a single dahlia laying there with a piece of paper next to it.

“The flowers are really pretty, but I think you’re the prettiest.”

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife

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sluttywoozi · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 7: Exhibitionism + SKZ Felix

For 💫 and 🐥

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.1k

Pairing: Felix x Reader + Changbin + Hyunjin | Genre: smut

Warnings: exhibitionism, getting head in front of your besties, oral m. rec., subby felix, cum eating

Reader Notes: gn, felix cums on ur chest but i don't mention breasts

“Don’t be nervous. You wanted them to see, remember?” You remind Felix in a lilting tone, your hand firm on his cock and your lips brushing the head with every word.

“I did, I do, I’m just… shy,” he murmurs, his eyes caught on your mouth and his hands clutching his jeans. They’re gathered around his thighs, pushed down enough for Changbin and Hyunjin to see every move you make as you tease him to full hardness. It was awkward, getting set up, but you don’t regret it. Putting the boys on the couch and Felix in the middle of them lets everyone be comfortable, and it means they get a front row seat of you swallowing Felix’s dick.

It’s a win for everyone, except your knees, but you know Felix will spend the rest of the night worshiping you in thanks for this so you can deal. This was all his idea - he’s always been obsessed with your throat game and when you uncovered his exhibitionist streak, he brought up his friends watching you suck his dick.

You weren’t opposed, and the idea grew on you until you wanted it as much as he did. There’s just something about knowing his friends want you, knowing they wish it was your mouth on them, your hands, and knowing that they’ll never get it. Because Felix is yours, and you’re his, and neither of you are good at sharing.

This, though, you can share. You can let them see you wrap your lips around the head of Felix’s cock, let them see you take it deeper and deeper until you’re gagging around the length in your throat, let them see your eyes water and your mouth stretch and your throat work. They can watch as you come up gasping for air, as you drag your tongue along the veins twining around his dick, as you wrap a hand around the base of him and duck down to lick at his heavy balls.

Felix breathes deeply above you, little whimpers escaping him though you can see him trying to stay quiet, to hold his noises in.

“Let them hear you, Lix,” you tell him, dipping your tongue into the divot at the tip of his cock. “Let me hear you.”

He groans loudly, indulgently, like he was just waiting for your permission to let loose his sounds, and you reward him by swallowing half his dick in one go. You look up at him before allowing your eyes to drift over to Changbin first, then Hyunjin, both of their mouths open as they watch you bob on Felix’s cock.

Changbin’s eyes are heavy lidded, his dick hard and his hands clutching his knees, and Hyunjin doesn’t look much more composed, his plump lips bitten red and his hair messy from the fingers he keeps running through it. Their attention on you just makes you work harder, one hand jerking off the few inches you can’t fit and the other cupping his balls. When you stretch a finger out to rub over his perineum, he moans so deeply you can almost feel it vibrating in your chest like it came from you instead.

He never lasts long once you start getting handsy and you suspect he’ll cum even easier with his friends around, so you pull away from him and take your top off, knowing how much he loves to cum all over your chest and then lick it up. You don’t always allow it, mainly because you crave the taste of him on your tongue, but this is a special occasion and you suppose you can just kiss him after if you really need a taste that bad.

His eyes light up as soon as the shirt clears your head, the removal of it a signal to him that you won’t be swallowing tonight. He beams down at you, one of his hands leaving his side to curl around your face and bring you up into a kiss.

“Thank you,” he whispers, letting you return to your place between his knees and watching as you open wide and feed his cock into your mouth. It disappears inch by inch until your throat is full and your eyes are burning, and when you look up at Felix with your lips stretched around the base of him, his face crumples in pleasure.

“Close, close, close,” he gasps, making you come up for air and start to move your hand on him, a slick slapping sound filling the room as you push him higher and higher. His legs shake, his eyes roll back in his head, and you know you’ve got him.

Changbin and Hyunjin lean in and watch, enraptured, as you jerk Felix off with a rough touch, your grip tight and your pace relentless. Hot cum shoots out of the tip of his cock, singeing your skin and making you gasp out, “That’s right, baby boy, cum for me.”

And he’s such a good listener, your sweet Felix, that he just keeps cumming. It seems never ending, globs of white covering your chest and dripping down as he whines your name, his head thrown back and his voice shot.

By the time it’s over, your hands are cramping and your chest feels sticky, but you’ve never loved Felix more. How could you not when he picks his heavy head up and immediately reaches for you, pulling you into his lap and starting to mindlessly lick at the cum covering your skin. He doesn’t pay any mind to his friends, they could have disappeared for all he cared, and they take his lack of awareness as their signal to leave.

They both breathe out a thank you and retreat to their own rooms, and you bite back the smirk that arises when you think about what exactly they’ll be doing and who exactly they’ll be thinking of.

Your focus returns to Felix when he turns and presses his cheek to your chest, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you even closer. You sigh contentedly, letting your head rest on his as you rub his back with one hand and pet his hair with the other. He’ll be asleep soon, and you won’t be able to move, so you whisper a soft, “Love you,” and wait to hear it back before letting your eyes fall shut and settling in for the night.

Kinktober Masterlist

Taglist: @aaniag @shuabby1994 @gyuwoncheol @aestheticsluut @bahng-chrizz @princessjazzyjazz @8queenc8 @soonhoonietrash @carat-deobi-writes @chans-wife @scuzmunkie @hipsdofangirl @onlyoneofdeeznutz @charmante-mp3 @honestlydopetree @hyneyedfiz @ngengngeng @plskillme22 @5xiang @onedumbho3 @tigerhoshi25 @ener-energy @heavenly-mobo @kingleysworld @iammisstora @jadeblackwoll @gyuhanniescarat @horanghater @shuadotcom @crookedwolfruins @pegdenki @burningupp-replies @flickhurstyles @yearnoclock @yoonguurt @itza-meee @riiley @xxtingz @wonuqrtz @dkswife @onlyyjeonghan @northerngalxy @ikooca @replay-by-shinee @weebotakuboy @ellesmoon @tomodachiii @kyeominara @lissiesykes @thepoopdokyeomtouched @mixling-blog @jadeblackwoll @luvkpopp @tunaasan @sliceofwoozi @valentxi @bangantokchy @jacixbliss @98-0603 @jeanjacketjesus @leechanswhore @s00buwu @porridgesblog @taesungx @yunjinified @booshui

#felix x reader #kvanity #felix smut #lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #lee felix imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #kpop smut #✨em's kinktober✨#yongbok x reader #yongbok smut

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yanderambling · 1 year

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Ohh my goodness, can we get more of crimelord and puppy-like reader, with time jump when the reader is receptive and soaking willingly in crimelord' love and loving them back? 🥰🥰🥰 (A huge time jump i suppose haha) Maybe reader even licks/kisses the once-wounded hand? Wagging their tail? Cuddling crimelord to sleep? Nuzzling? Omg now I have hyperfixation

ahh i’m so glad you enjoyed!! thanks for this prompt, i had so much fun with it! i hope you like this one too <3 (it kinda got away from me a bit lol)

pairing: Crimelord!Yan(gn) x Puppy Hybrid!Reader(gn)

words: ~1.4k

if you'd like to read the original post, you can find it here!

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, referenced past abuse, implied ptsd

As soon as you start warming up to them in any given area, Monty pushes a little more. They always move at your pace, but they just want to get as close to you as possible- they’re gentle but damn persistent.

Earning your trust instantly became their top priority, all their ill business delegated to their inner circle, and they don’t regret it a bit. They revel in watching you relax into your new life, and they take every setback in stride, meeting you with nothing but gentleness and endless praise. It’s infinitely gratifying to see you accept comfort and affection, and they give it to you in abundance.

You can be sure that they'll be petting you whenever they have a free hand, nothing calms yet excites them like the slide of your fur through their fingers, and they can’t get over the domesticity of simply sitting down and running their hands over you like it’s the most natural thing in the world (it is, for them at least). If you start getting closer, cuddling, crawling into their lap, they won’t be functional for the next few hours at least- the proximity alone is enough to make them fear hyperventilation, but the thought that you’re seeking them out for comfort (or even just some kind of entertainment in this giant, empty house) makes them dig their nails into their skin to make sure they don't float outside of their body. Sometimes you feel their grip tighten the slightest bit around the back your neck, their arms pull you a little closer, but when you look up they only meet you with a barely stifled manic grin.

Monty would also love to feed you by hand, they’ll do it for every meal if you let them. Once you’re more comfortable, they’d get a little less careful, letting their fingers slip into your mouth from time to time. The feeling of your teeth and tongue against their skin, so gentle now from when they first felt it, leaves them weak-kneed and lightheaded (if you suck on them even a little, they might just faint).

If you were to express remorse over their scarred hand, it would melt their heart, but they would discourage any guilt you might feel. They actually delight in bearing your mark (if you hurt any of their staff while you were still adjusting, they're lucky if all they left their service with was a scar- they weren’t worthy of even the illusion of your claim). Still, they would never stop you from licking them, they'll always take your “kisses” however you’ll give them (your tongue against their skin feels like the caress of an angel, a pureness they can feel cleansing them within, each motion a sacrament).

The first time you wagged your tail when they entered a room, Monty had to check their camera feeds to be sure it even happened. They had walked downstairs in the morning and greeted you in the living room, where you were most mornings you woke early, when they heard the soft, telltale thud thud of a tail against the couch. Sure enough, when they rounded the corner, there you were- a hesitantly friendly grin on your face as the end of you tail tapped a steady rhythm on the cushion. They nearly choked on the emotions that clenched their chest in that moment, and they felt newly rejuvenated in their quest to earn your love trust. Every time you show that same excitement at their presence from then on, it's all they can do not to melt into a puddle at your feet- and it only gets harder as you grow more comfortable.

They would love to give you a collar. They’d give you options, endless varieties of materials and colors and styles for you to try on- you’d probably have to make a whole day of it. They still feel their pulse pick up whenever they look at the proof of your bond, which you so proudly display (to their staff and the few shopkeeps in their pocket that have been sworn to secrecy to provide essential services, and to let you leave the estate on occasion). They often like to just hook their fingers through it and let their knuckles rest against your neck, a sort of subtle claim that settles some primal part of them, if only slightly.

Monty is a pretty big person, and remarkably strong, so you can bet they’ll be picking you up and carrying you around whenever you’ll let them (once they can stop their arms from going weak and shaky every time they feel your body against their chest). They take immense pleasure in scooping you up from wherever you may be- lounging on the sofa, standing in their garden, sleeping in their bay windows- and just carrying you about with them, or sitting you on their lap and stroking you until you settle into a doze (you’ve spent many evenings splayed across their legs or cuddled tot heir chest while they reviewed reports and receipts). They feel their heart soar every time your weight settles into their arms, so completely at their mercy, so hardened to everyone else yet allowing them your complete vulnerability; they could cry. (They have.)

This would probably take the longest, but Monty would never give up hope of getting you to share a bed with them. They might start by letting you sleep in their bed while they sleep on and watch you sleep from a surprisingly luxurious pullout. The sound of your deep, even breaths is almost enough to calm their racing heart- or maybe it’s actually making it go faster. They can't focus on anything else enough to tell, just knowing that you trust them enough to sleep in their room sends them into a flustered, shivering tizzy. They spend most of those nights obsessively memorizing the outline of your silhouette, struggling to convince themself that it wasn’t a dream (maybe they’ve snuck a few pets in when they just couldn’t hold back any longer, the feeling of your fur against their fingers always making their chest clench so wonderfully they've definitely taken closeup photos of your captivatingly peaceful face in the moonlight).

Once you two make it into the same bed for a night, they can hardly contain themself. You actually get a little worried, watching your sweet master shake and shudder in place beside you, their body sweaty and hot to the touch oh sweet lord you’re touching them but when you ask if they’re okay, they just nod fervently (their mouth is too dry to speak, and they’re fairly certain they wouldn’t be able to formulate words anyhow). They don’t really sleep that night either, and it would probably take them a couple nights to make any more moves forward unless you initiate (and that still would be so delightfully overwhelming).

They would try to hold you, ideally you two would cuddle up as close as you could be without being under each other’s skin (though they might actually prefer that). They would be happy with being the big or little spoon, too. Being curled around you makes them feel like they’re protecting you, like you want them to protect you, and they love feeling every line and curve of your body under theirs. But they would also delight in being wrapped in your arms, feeling your comforting weight around them, your breath against their back, letting themself be vulnerable to you.

It would probably take a couple nights before they get any actual rest in that bed. They’ll relish every second.

Waking up to you feels like a dream, and they always have breakfast delivered to the room so they can watch you lounge about, all rumpled and sleepy as you lazily nibble at the bites they hold to your mouth (so different from the frenzied way you used to gorge yourself, like you thought it might be taken from you and you weren’t sure when you’d get more. Monty intends to hunt down every last person that made you feel that way, and they’ve already made good progress).

They can, and do, spend hours upon hours just watching you- basking in a sunbeam on their sofa, napping in bed, exploring their vast estate- they’re basically always with you even when you don’t know it. The only time you two are apart is when they have to take care of business in person, which is pretty rare but still crushes their soul each time it happens.

But it’s necessary, in their mind, to keep you removed from all the sickness and violence in the world; they’re well-versed in dealing with violence, as they know you are too, and the thought of exposing you to anything of the sort is nauseating. They have a need to protect you from that darkness, to ensure that you never feel even a fraction of the way you’ve felt your whole life. And they do just that.

And, as long as you’ll let them (even if you won’t), they always will.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #gn yandere #gn reader #criminal yandere #hybrid reader #puppy reader #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere requests #requests open #tw yandere

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save-the-villainous-cat · 3 months

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Hi!

I was wondering if you could write more stories of the war captive prince. (Maybe the captive one gets hurt while saving the prince from death?)

By the way, I really love your writing.

Hope you have a nice day! (*ˊᵕˋ*)ﾉ

So this doesn't really fit into the narrative but if I had to, I'd place it between part 1 and 2.

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt.4

Being a prisoner wasn’t as bad as he had feared.

He had a room to himself. It wasn’t much but it wasn’t a cell where he would rot within days. Soldiers guarded his door outside day and night and maids seemed to be making his bed when he was working in the castle. Whatever the protagonist had expected, it wasn’t this, it wasn’t an almost decent life.

But then again, he supposed the prince wanted to keep an eye on him. After all, everyone was watching him. All the time.

Most of the time, he worked in the castle amongst the other servants and it was easy to forget that those people weren’t his acquaintances. The protagonist knew these people weren’t responsible for his pain and suffering but still, every time he talked to one of them or shared his food, deep down his heart broke a little.

He felt as if he was betraying his friend by showing others kindness.

One day, when the prince had felt particularly merciful (or cruel), he had brought him down to the dungeons. And there he had seen them. His friend, frail and hopeless. He didn’t know if they had even recognised him. They hadn’t talked, had barely looked at him.

Since then, he had tried to sneak away and get back down there again, but it was to no avail. Whenever he was sure he had distracted the guards, one of them showed up in front of him and barked at him to get back to work.

With that memory burnt into his brain, the protagonist avoided the prince at all cost. Because he was sure he would find a way to strangle him to death the next time they’d meet.

So, when he’d been instructed to go to the prince’s chambers today, he was full of energy. His heart was beating in his throat. Rage blinded him and he feared he would make a drastic decision he could regret later.

However, as soon as he set a foot into the prince’s room, he could tell something was off.

“You actually came, I’m impressed.” The prince sat on his bed, holding his stomach. At first, the protagonist didn’t want to understand. He saw the prince in a weak state and wondered how long it would take him to end this.

In his lifetime, the protagonist had killed a lot of people. Undoubtedly, there was dark and thick blood on his hands.

Maybe he would finally add the prince’s too.

“You’re bleeding,” the protagonist realised. His eyes dropped to the wound the prince tried to hide and the strange amount of linen drenched in blood.

His muscles tensed.

The protagonist wondered what it would feel like to push his fingers into his wound and curl them. What sounds the prince would make if the protagonist found something in this luxurious room to press deeper into the cut. What he would look like if the protagonist strangled him and watched him bleed out.

The protagonist got overwhelmed with ideas, with rage and with determination. He wondered when he had gotten this violent, but maybe war had changed him.

Or he had always been this way.

“Yes. That’s why I asked for you.” His breathing was quick and he hunched, holding his stomach as the blood dropped down his fingers. “You have military experience, don’t you? That includes sanitary practice.”

“You’re delusional if you think I might help you.”

“I’ve heard that in your country you’re sewing wounds. It’s probably my last hope. My medics are panicking,” he said. His voice was raspy and the protagonist was sure he felt lightheaded. Losing a lot of blood was dangerous, even the prince should’ve been aware of that.

“Again, why would I help you?” he asked.

The prince made a noise between a groan and a sigh, mixed with pain and annoyance.

“Your friend, obviously. You can see them again tomorrow if you save me. If you don’t, they’ll be killed.” The protagonist cocked his head but what he was seeing seemed to be real. Tears were streaming down the prince’s face. Not a lot and barely noticeable but they sparkled in the dim light.

This was an easy choice, then.

“Good. Lay down.” The protagonist approached him quickly and pushed his enemy into the bed.

The prince’s face twisted and he looked as grey as ash. Even if the protagonist had to save him, that didn’t mean he couldn’t cause as much pain as he wanted.

“Put more pressure on the wound,” he said. He observed what the prince was doing, then shook his head. “No, like this.”

He pushed the clean linen the medics had given to the prince deep into the wound. They turned red immediately and the prince gasped.

“Oh gods-” He held onto the protagonist’s wrist, grabbed him harsh enough to leave bruises. He arched his back and whimpered like a dog and the protagonist stared at him, stared at the person who could be so cruel being exposed to cruelty.

Quickly, the protagonist realised, that they’d been this close in the throne room last. It was an eerie feeling.

But the pain the prince endured wasn’t satisfactory to the protagonist. He got distracted, looked a little too long at the tear stains.

“Needles? Threads?” The prince pointed at the drawer next to the bed and the protagonist found what he was searching for soon enough.

“What happened?” he asked as he took the bowl filled with water from the drawer. He put the thread through the needle’s head and drenched the needle in water.

“Assassination attempt,” the prince groaned. “I fought back but…clearly didn’t make a big difference.”

Quickly, the protagonist took the needle out of the water again.

“Shouldn’t the whole castle panic, then?”

“I managed to avoid that. Only a few people know that I’m injured,” he said. The protagonist looked at the wound. The bleeding wasn’t as serious anymore, so he pulled the linen out of the wound, much to the prince’s dismay.

His fingertips brushed against the protagonist’s.

“I’ve never killed anyone before,” the prince admitted. “Not with my own hands.”

“It’s much harder than it looks,” the protagonist said and the prince nodded. Before the prince answered, the protagonist pushed the needle through his skin.

The prince’s hand found his wrist again and he squeezed as the protagonist continued carefully.

Although the protagonist could sew, he was rather clumsy when it came to his own fingers. Every now and then, he stabbed into his fingertips until his own blood dropped onto the prince’s stomach, red and red mixing together.

“There was so much blood,” the prince said. The protagonist could feel his eyes on him. “I didn’t even notice I was wounded.”

The protagonist pulled a little too harsh on the thread and the prince flinched.

“Apologies,” he mumbled and for whatever reason, his hand landed on the prince’s forearm, trying to calm him. “I’m almost done.”

Again, the prince nodded and let him continue his work. When he was done, he looked at the result and found himself quite satisfied with it.

Maybe the protagonist was a fool for helping him. Maybe it was his own nature. Maybe war hadn’t hardened him, maybe it had exhausted him, had made him soft.

“Rest for the next few days. You also need a lot of food and water.” He stood up and turned around before he could put more thoughts into the situation, however, the prince grabbed his forearm before he could go.

“No word of this to anyone, please,” he said but the protagonist didn’t answer. What kind of power did he have here anyway? Trying to convince the people to overthrow their own prince? A revolution? Who would even listen to him? “…and thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” the protagonist said and he meant every word of it.

#damn a lot of people have been asking me #just a lil hurt for the protag #writing snippet #kingdoms and royalty #prince x prince #princexprince #mlm #m/m #request #an answer for an ask #whump #I guess?

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random-imagines-blog · 2 years

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Imagine Tate Langdon appreciating your dark side.

Tate Langdon was the stuff of edgy-teenage daydreams - a ghost, so he couldn’t exactly leave you, quite cute, a dark side, and completely and totally psychotic. No wonder why you fell in deep.

You were that stereotype - dark painted nails, dark dyed hair, music that made no sense at all to your parents, t-shirts with band names that just looked like scribbles and a guitar of your own which you used to play your own moody stuff. That’s what usually brought Tate out - your music, for it was something that you had in common. On this day, you were feeling particularly ticked off because your parents grounded you for fighting in school, so the mood today, the musical theme, was aggression.

“Whoa, what happened to your face?” Tate appeared beside you, his fingertips lightly grazing where your opponent had gotten a couple of good jabs in. He was so gentle with you, sitting beside you on your bed. “You should get some ice on that.”

“Can’t,” You groaned. “Mom used it all to keep her heart so fucking cold. Seriously, one fight. We’ve been here two months and I’ve only been in one fight, she should actually be proud of me. I find reasons for one every day but I gotta be the better person. She doesn’t appreciate shit.”

A large grin took over Tate’s face at your attitude. Your anger towards your parents always amused him. The suburbia goody-two-shoes couple who projected out into the world that everything was perfect while you made sure to burn that reputation down to the ground.

“So what are you going to do about it?” He asked. Which made you think. It wasn’t a question that was often posed. Your parents asked how you were going to make it up to them, but that was an entirely different question. You shrugged. “Could always poison them,” He suggested, his legs swinging back and forth.

“Hmmm - poison is hard to buy these days,” You reasoned. “Also I don’t want to go into the foster system, I’d probably end up with something worse, and I’d end up being taken away from you.”

“Fair, fair, don’t do that,” Tate shook his head quickly. “You could just - enjoy your grounding and stay here with me?”

You thought that over for a moment too. You supposed he had a point. He was here. You weren’t entirely cut off. “But what are we going to do?” You asked in return.

Now it was his turn to think. Then he’d flick your guitar. “Put on a concert loud enough that they’ll regret grounding you.”

#Tate Langdon #Tate Langdon x reader #Tate Langdon imagines #American Horror Story #American Horror Story imagines #x reader #imagines #tatel #non request

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commander-krios · 2 years

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Angsty Love Prompt List

“You say you’re dangerous. That you destroy everything you touch. So destroy me. Ruin me. Tear me apart, and let me love you all the same. “

“And I'm not afraid to love you. Only afraid my love won’t be enough. “

“I feel like shit.” “You look like it, too.” *they bump shoulders*

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to do this to me.”

"Nothing about any moment I've ever spent with you will ever be a regret.”

"I'll find you. Okay? I promise you, whatever happens, I’ll find you, and we'll be together, and everything will be good again. "

“Do you truly believe that anything so little as a rule, or a law, might have stopped me from protecting you? “

“You. I'll always and endlessly fight for you. “

“This path you’re on… it’s gonna get you killed. You know that, though; don’t you? “

“What the hell were you thinking?! You could’ve been killed! “

“You need to go now, okay? Don’t worry. I've got this. They’ll want to be trying a lot harder if they want to keep me from protecting you.“

#prompts #writing prompts #angst prompts #angst #with some fluff in some of them #please send me a few prompts for these ships:#keshani zythor x jonas balkar #revan x canderous #despina sloane x theron shan #kieran zythor x jaina highwind #helene x zhilae #aurora x joker #charley x thane

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cinnamontoastcrunch-15 · 10 months

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If Only You could Look into my Eyes and See that I Still Love You

Burnout is KICKING MY ASS so have a oneshot I wrote before I completely ran out of ideas while I try to finish my WIPs (I promise they’ll be out soon!!)

Warning: it’s a post prank oneshot

Remus stirred slowly, feeling like he’d clawed his way up from the depths of an ocean, rather than a shallow dive that his unconsciousness usually left him with. He leaves his eyes shut for a moment, taking in the hospital wing around him for a moment. Something felt… off.

The first thing he noticed was Sirius’ absence.

He could always feel Sirius’ presence, especially straight after a full moon, and he was always there. Never missed a moon. With a swirl of dread, he realised what that meant. Something had gone seriously wrong.

The second thing he noticed was that he was in pain.

Everything in him was aching more than normal, his head pounding, a lot of new slashes stinging his body, and his leg feeling a lot like it did when Poppy had healed a broken bone, even though it had been a while since he’d felt that, the only description being nostalgic. Not a pleasant nostalgia, but nostalgia all the same.

The panic that the unfamiliar pain brought him was enough for him to fling his eyes open, going to sit straight up and immediately regretting it. Almost instantly, a hand reached out and pressed against his chest, pushing him back down slowly. Remus turned to find James and Peter sat there, James having stood up to help Remus sit slower. James adjusted the pillows carefully, letting Remus rest against them and sitting back down.

“Careful, Moony. Gave us a scare.” James said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. It threw Remus off a little, concerning him. If James couldn’t hide something then it was big. It was bad.

Shit.

Remus glanced between the two of them carefully.

“Something happened last night, didn’t it?” He asked, Peter shifting a little uncomfortably in his seat as James’ smile died. Okay, he was right, that’s one thing. It only increased the sense of dread deep in his stomach. Not having any memory of the moons only made his own concern worse, that small reminder that he was dangerous gnawing at him. “Did anyone get hurt?” His voice was filled with concern, he couldn’t hold it back as his mind ran through every scenario under the sun.

“…you.” James said, almost like it should have been obvious, and Remus bit back an eye roll.

“Other than me.” James shook his head, and Remus felt himself breathing a little easier.

“Not in the end, no.”

In the end? What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

“Well then… what happened? And where’s Sirius?” James’ brow furrowed further, and Remus wanted to be swallowed whole. He was in pain and tired, and they weren’t just coming out and telling him what happened.

“It’s, uh… it’s actually about Sirius. He- fuck, I don’t know how to say this.” James said, eyes sliding shut as he took a deep, shaking breath. “He told Snape. About the Whomping Willow. Snape, he- he went down there and, well… Snape knows.” James spoke in a rush, and Remus could feel his heart drop further and further into his stomach, through his legs, almost to his feet, icy cold shock slowly spreading down over him.

No.

No, there was no way.

Of all of the many, many scenarios running through his mind, none of them involved Sirius doing anything to hurt him, because he wouldn’t.

James was watching Remus’ frown deepen, and Remus had never seen James at a loss for words before. Remus had so many questions, but thankfully, Peter stepped in, getting through the rest of it.

“James stopped him, and got him straight to Dumbledore. I’ve got no fucking clue what Dumbledore said to him, but he’s not going to tell anyone, so you’re not expelled. Sirius is with Professor McGonnagal and Dumbledore now.”

“I told them to boot him off the Quidditch team.” James said, fists clenching. “He’s not coming back, not after that.”

“I- no, he- he wouldn’t, Sirius wouldn’t.” It was the first thing Remus could think to say, because he just wouldn’t. Not Sirius.

Not when they had just started to really define what they were. After months of stolen glances, of stolen touches. After that kiss on the astronomy tower. After Remus had finally confessed that he had feelings for Sirius, and Sirius had said he did too. After everything, he wouldn’t turn around and betray him. It wasn’t possible.

“Did they- is Sirius expelled? What about- they can’t send him back to his family, right?” It wasn’t a question Remus had expected to ask, but it happened. He couldn’t stop himself from asking it. James shrugged.

“I don’t think they are expelling him, no.”

“Right, okay, yeah. That’s good.” Because he hadn’t done anything, he’d never. Even if he had, which he hadn’t, nobody deserved the family Sirius had.

“I- Moony, are you alright?” James whispered, as Remus seemed to reach a conclusion. It couldn’t be happening. With that, he went to get up, ignoring the stabbing pain in his hip as both James and Peter stood to stop him. “Hey, hey hey, you need to rest, lay back down.” James wasn’t advising, he was telling, but Remus wouldn’t listen.

“No, I- I need to hear this from him, let me-“

“Remus, Peter was the only one there last night, okay? You’re really hurt. If Madame Pomfrey sees you trying to leave-“

“Remus John Lupin, what on earth are you doing?” Too late. Poppy marched over to him, hands on her hips. “You are going to get back into that bed and you are going to sleep. If you’re well enough, you can leave later.”

“No, Poppy, please, you don’t- I need to see Sirius.” Her face softened considerably, then, walking over to him, grabbing both of his arms and gently pushing him into the bed. He couldn’t fight her, he never could.

“I know what happened, lovely, but you need rest. I can’t let you go now, not in good conscience. Professor McGonnagal will sort everything out, just focus on yourself for a while, okay?” Remus wanted to scream. Seeing Sirius was focusing on himself, because he didn’t believe it. He wanted Sirius to walk in and say everything was just some big misunderstanding, but if he couldn’t have that, he needed to find him. Poppy shoved a potion into his hand. “Drink this.” The command was back, and Remus wanted to argue, but he didn’t have the energy. Just trying to get out of the bed was draining, and while the adrenaline was enough to keep him awake, it wasn’t enough for him to disobey. He glanced at the potion. Sleeping. Maybe if he drank it, let himself be dragged into a hazy unconsciousness, then everything would be fine when he woke up. Sirius would be there, and everything would be okay.

It took hours for him to drift back from his deep sleep, already feeling better than he had the first time. For a few moments he remained blissfully unaware of everything that had happened, letting himself wake up slowly. Until everything that James and Peter had said sunk in for the second time, and the same cold trickle of shock started at his head and slowly travelled down the back of his neck and his spine. He felt like he wasn’t in his own body, then, refusing to process fully. Not until he had spoken to Sirius.

Once he had forced his eyes open and propped himself up in his bed, James and Peter no longer sat beside him, Poppy walked over.

“Remus. I would keep you here overnight, but due to the… circumstances, if you’re feeling alright, you can leave. If you’d like to.” She added onto the end.

Part of Remus really didn’t want to. Part of him wanted to stay in his bubble of uncertainty, where he could convince himself that it wasn’t true, it didn’t happen. Still, his anxiety kept getting worse, growing every second, and he knew that another part of him, a much bigger part, wanted to get out of the wing, march right up to Sirius and have him scrunch up his nose in that way of his and say of course it isn’t true, he would never do that to him, especially not now.

Despite the sinking feeling that was convincing him that he wasn’t going to hear that, he settled on that option, swinging his legs out of the bed and going to get changed out of the hospital gown. Poppy left, shutting the curtains behind her and leaving Remus to his thoughts. James wasn’t one to lie, especially not about something like that, and they both seemed particularly distraught, but Remus couldn’t even imagine what he would do if Sirius nodded, said he did it. Something had happened, and Snape knew. He knew. Remus just needed to know how, and for Sirius not to be the one who told him.

With that, Remus shoved the curtains open, waved to Madame Pomfrey and left the hospital wing, walking quickly to the dorm. If Sirius wasn’t there, the map would be. He would find Sirius if it killed him.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long. The moment he had started up the stairs to get to Gryffindor Common Room, James and Peter must have spotted him, catching up quickly.

“Moony, did Madame Pomfrey already let you go?”

“Yeah. Need to talk to Sirius.”

“Are you sure that’s the best idea right now, he’s-“

“I need to.” James and Peter exchanged an uncomfortable glance, clearly expecting carnage, but Remus wasn’t. Remus was expecting Sirius to reassure him, because what else could he do?

“Right, okay.” Peter agreed, James nodding. That didn’t seem to defer them from following him there, though. They followed him through the portrait hole, following a chastising from the fat lady, and up to the dorm. “He’s in there-“

“Saves me some time, then.” Remus answered simply, shoving the door open and freezing almost as soon as he got inside. Sirius was sat on his bed, jumping a mile at the sound of the door and immediately standing. His eyes widened at the sight of Remus.

“Moony! You- I thought you’d be in the hospital wing for longer. Are you- are you okay?” Remus took a moment to just watch him.

Sirius was playing with his hands, fidgeting awkwardly, nervous. His eyes were red, pretty puffy, he’d clearly been crying, even as he tried to act like he hadn’t, causing a slightly painful tug in Remus’ heart, and he was more closed off than normal. It was enough for the dread that Remus had been trying his best to ignore to grow ever so slightly. He could see James glaring at Sirius from the corner of his eye, and Remus had to say something then.

“You-“ His voice cracked, and he was stunned by how stressed he sounded. He felt more together than he sounded, because he was so sure that Sirius hadn’t done it. Of course he hadn’t. “You didn’t actually tell him, did you?”

The silence was deafening.

Remus watched Sirius swallow slowly, eyes darting over Remus’ face and just missing meeting Remus’ eye. Remus’ own eyes flicked down to Sirius’ hands, only to find that they were shaking, and when he glanced back up there were tears in Sirius’ eyes.

“Moony, listen. It was- I didn’t mean- he-“

“Did you- did you tell him or not?” Remus snapped, arms folding to hide the fact that he felt like he was going to fall apart. Sirius fixed his gaze to the floor and nodded once, almost invisibly.

That one small gesture was enough to tear Remus’ world down.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered, and suddenly Remus couldn’t breathe. It was like someone had taken his entire foundation, the only sense of safety he had, the only thing he was ever sure in, and turned it on its head, taken it away from him, some cruel, cruel joke designed for the sake of his suffering.

Fuck.

He felt sick. He wanted to pass out, everything in him starting to tingle, head spinning as the lights became too bright and his own breathing became too loud. His ears were ringing, everything in him protesting and protesting, because it was Sirius. Not Sirius.

Fuck.

Sirius had done the one thing Remus had never thought he would do. He had taken the part of Remus, something that he was inevitably tied to for eternity, and instead of holding it close, he had handed the secret straight to the one person who wanted him gone. Almost fucking killed him in the process. Never in Remus’ life could he have expected Sirius to weaponise the thing Remus had expected him to protect. He fucking tore himself apart every month, and instead of seeing it as something to resolve, Sirius saw it as something to use. To twist and manipulate and use to his advantage, to get payback on someone.

Remus felt his hands start to shake, but he really wasn’t sure whether it was anger or sadness, whether he was going to scream or cry.

The answer seemed to be neither, then.

“I- christ, I’m going- shit.” He breathed, turning and leaving quickly. James and Peter went to follow him, but Remus didn’t want to be followed. It was like he was being suffocated. He slammed the door behind him, everything inside him bubbling until he didn’t know what to do with it. It was like he was going to burst, the gravity of everything falling on him.

He couldn’t go back to the dorm, the common room was too public, he had no clue where to go. So he just… walked. Trying to somehow walk everything out of him, looking for somewhere he couldn’t be followed.

Stumbling across the room of requirement was an accident. The perfect accident, though, because he could ask for whatever he wanted.

He paced in front of it quickly, asking the same thing and hoping that nobody was going to catch up to him while he did so.

‘I need a place the marauders can’t get to.’

In a matter of seconds, a door was standing in place of the blank wall, and Remus shoved it open quickly, slamming it shut behind him and feeling comforted by the knowledge that he would be able to process on his own.

The room was vast and airy, with a sofa pressed against the wall and a chest directly beside it. Okay, cold air, that was helping a little, as he paced quickly, trying to figure out what the fuck he was feeling.

Besides the fact that anger, resentment and shock were balling up inside him, and he could feel the denial slowly melting away to make place for sadness, there was something else rearing it’s ugly head that Remus really didn’t want to think about. A small voice telling him that he should have seen it coming, that he was so caught up in his feelings that Sirius probably didn’t even reciprocate that he couldn’t see the part of Sirius that was fully prepared to turn around and stab him in the back.

Christ, he felt sick. So fucking sick, he needed more air, he was being smothered by-

“Moony?”

Shit.

James.

He tried the door handle, which thankfully didn’t let him in. Good old room of requirement.

“Did he lock it?” Peter’s voice rang out quietly, and Remus shook his hands, trying to get some of the agitation out of his system so he didn’t scream.

Fuck it.

He threw a silencing charm over the space and let himself go, feeling everything raise inside him and release in a guttural scream, eyes screwed shut. It was actually happening, it was real. Silence settled back over the space, Remus lifting the silencing charm quickly, feeling the weight of the charm lift, back into the light airy space it had been before.

That’s was when he heard Lily.

“Hey, what’s going on? Is Remus in there?” Fuck, he didn’t think about Lily, she could probably get through the door.

“How did you…?” James started, and Remus could almost feel Lily rolling her eyes.

“Remus came storming out of the boys dorms and out the common room and you lot came running after with the map in your hands, so I figured something was wrong. Just followed you.” She answered casually, before raising her voice just a little for Remus’ benefit. “Remus, can I come in? Listen, I have no clue what’s going on, but you seemed really upset, and I don’t know that you should be alone. I won’t speak if you don’t want me to, just… don’t isolate yourself? Yeah?”

Something in Remus knew that the door would open for her, and he also knew that she was right, unfortunately.

“S’open.” Remus called half heartedly. “Just for you, though.” He couldn’t talk to James and Peter about any of it. Not yet.

The door clicked open gently, Remus bouncing on his heels when she walked in. She smiled tentatively at him, shutting the door behind her.

“Hey.” Remus watched her move to the sofa, dropping down on it and keeping her eyes on him.

“Hi.” He didn’t stop his pacing, and she didn’t speak for a while as she let him move around the room until his hip physically wouldn’t let him anymore. He felt it twinge, pausing and pressing his hand against the wall. Without missing a beat, Lily was at his side and helping him get to the sofa, the two of them sitting side by side in silence.

Remus could feel himself losing his composure more and more every second, and as Lily wrapped an arm around his shoulder he crumbled. The tears came before he knew what had happened, breaking down into deep, heavy sobs. It had clearly quite thrown Lily, but she didn’t hesitate in gently moving her hand up and down Remus’ arm, letting him lean and rest his head against hers, unable to stop the flow of crying that had started.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re alright.” Lily murmured, just letting him cry until he couldn’t cry anymore. It was slightly cathartic, letting him mourn the fact that his friend, his best friend, the first person he’d ever loved had taken his biggest secret and used it for his advantage. A secret Lily didn’t know.

Fuck it. If Snape knew, then Remus had to tell Lily before he got to her.

The moment his ragged breathing had slowed and he could get words out, he decided that there was no time like the present. If she ran, then she ran, and there was nothing he could do about it. He’d already lost Sirius, he would rather lose Lily on his terms than on Severus’.

“Lils, I-“ he pulled away and glanced at her. “Have you talked to Sni- Severus, today?” She frowned and shook her head.

“Haven’t properly spoken to him in a while. Why?”

“He might- he probably will tell you something, soon, but I just- I want you to hear it from me.”

“Remus, what is it?” She asked, brow furrowing in concern as her open green eyes searched his amber ones.

“You can’t tell anyone, okay? And- and everything’s safe. 100% safe.” With that, he took a deep breath and tried to make sure he could actually get the words out. “I’m- I’ve got lycanthropy. I’m a werewolf.” He watched as her eyes widened, and he waited for her to up and leave, expecting disgust to flit across her face. Instead, her gaze became determined, and she nodded.

“I won’t tell a soul.” She promised, and Remus felt himself fall apart again, knowing that she was a safe place for him. That meant he could tell her the rest.

“Sirius- Sirius told Snape, he- he fucking-just when I thought he-“ Remus got out through stuttered breaths, and he felt Lily stiffen a little.

“I’m so sorry, Remus. You don’t deserve that.” She murmured, with only made Remus cry harder, the one thought he had been ignoring circling through his mind over and over, repeating with every beat of his heart.

I love him.

#okay #um #wolfstar #sirius black #wolfstar oneshot #marauders #remus lupin #remus x sirius #young marauders #moony x padfoot #atyd marauders #marauders oneshot #sorry?#it was low-key cathartic writing this

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just-horrible-things · 1 year

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‘Verse: Box Boy Universe Story: Just Acting

Regret [ First | Prev | tbc ]

"Um, mister?" wavers Liv-as-Buttercup. "Where are we going?" She's stalling, playing her part but with no direction, no plan as Jude drags her by the hand back towards the scene of the crime.

It's only a matter of time before they find the body.

Jude is silent. Buttercup steps on a sharp rock and stumbles and they give her no time to recover.

"Mister? Um, my Sir doesn't like me going with strangers…" "Yeah yeah, you make your excuses. I'm not falling for it Liv."

They're almost at the light now, close enough to be seen by the milling partygoers on the veranda.

Close enough to be seen by someone who knows that Buttercup ought to be upstairs with Ms Hartling right now.

"Mister, you don't understand – he really doesn't like it – I'm sorry, I don't want to get you in trouble!"

Jude stops, and Buttercup misses a step as Liv almost catches herself but decides at the last instant that it's less like her if she lets herself collide with his body after all. He smells like expensive cologne and entitlement.

He grabs a fistful of the front of her costume to keep her close. The other hand is bruisingly tight on Buttercup’s wrist.

"Which is it," they hiss. "Are you a pretty Pet, or are you gonna drop the act? If you don't want me to do whatever I want to you, you'd better stop playing games and start answering some fucking questions."

Tears well up on cue. Buttercup leans up against Jude's body, pressing her lips out in perfect unhappy confusion. "I'm sorry," she repeats, "I don't know what you want, I'd do it for you but my Sir—" "Who is your "Sir", huh? Some accomplice you're hoping will get you out of this?"

Accomplice rings alarm bells. What has Jude been up to since college anyway? Do they somehow know what Liv has been up to? She always assumed they went back to whatever pointless little town crapped them out in the first place and got a dead end job in some office because they sure weren’t getting a career in acting.

"What did I do?" she pleads, because if she was Buttercup none of their accusations would make sense. "Answer the question.” A yank on her clothes, shaking her like a doll. “Who is this "Sir"? Does he even exist?" "Mr. Calvin Cohen," Buttercup answers earnestly. "If he sees you touching me—" and she presses a little harder against them so that her breasts enfold their hand and trap it between them "—he'll be so angry."

Jude’s forehead is furrowed with comical confusion as they try to sort through the lies. Liv fights the rising urge to laugh. They’re trying to figure out her agenda with every word while she's just bluffing one second to the next.

"I'll just have to take you somewhere private then, won't I?"

Yes. Yes that's perfect – well, not perfect – but a lot better than dragging her into the light.

Buttercup bites her lip, the way Smith had Liv practice over and over – slightly off-centre, just hard enough to dent the soft flesh. "I shouldn't," she wavers. "I'm not asking," Jude snarls, taking the bait.

Buttercup pulls back a little as they cast about. Not a lot, not enough to be defiant, just enough that they feel the tension in her. When they start back the way they came, she drags her feet.

"What were you even doing out there on your own if you're supposed to be a Pet, huh? Sneaking around in the dark? Your story doesn't add up." "I, I was… I was hiding from Sir, sir. I’m sorry…" Another scoff.

He leads her, of course, back to the trellises. Jude never had much imagination. Laughter – wild and not exactly compos mentis – threatens once again, and Liv bites the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood. She cannot corpse now.

The wisteria overhead is leafless, but artfully manicured shrubs provide plenty of cover from prying eyes. Liv thinks about fighting, even though she is exhausted and nearly naked and one shout from Jude would bring every security guard in the place down on her head –

– and if she can’t kill them, they’ll identify her, and she’ll be in a whole other world of trouble.

“I don’t know what I did to upset you,” Buttercup pleads, “but I’m sorry—” “Last chance,” Jude growls. “Or if you insist you’re a Pet, I’m gonna treat you like one.”

Good, thinks Liv. Pretending is the first step towards believing.

“I am a Pet, sir,” Buttercups insists. Liv forces her voice a shade huskier. “I can be good for you.” “Good.” A cold and nasty smile.

Then his fist connects with Liv’s stomach, and she doubles over as her lungs freeze up.

It’s a good thing that everyone reacts the same way to a gut punch, Pet or not. Because for a long few seconds, Liv isn’t acting at all.

Jude yanks her head up by the hair and slaps her across the face. Convenient, involuntary tears well up at the sting. She manages to suck in a thin, effortful breath.

Thinking Smith she has the presence of mind to drop to her knees.

I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, sir, I’ll be good for you.

The only word she can force out is ��—sir—!”

He pulls a fist back to hit her again, and every instinct Liv has screams to twist away from it or lift a hand or something but – she cannot picture Smith fighting back and so – against every fibre of her being – she holds still and lets him hit her.

She sees stars. Or – not stars exactly – the little pale dancing, wriggling motes that people mean when they say someone’s seeing stars.

It’s easier – when he lets go of her hair – to crumple to the ground than not.

Gil was right, thinks a sick treacherous little voice in her gut. I don’t know what I’m doing.

Buttercup sobs a snotty, tear-thickened sob as Liv’s lungs finally let her take a full breath. “I’m – sorry–” she gasps “--I don’t – what did I do I’m sorry–!”

She doesn't see the kick coming, but pain knifes through her side at the impact. Thoughts flash through her mind of ruptured kidneys, spinal damage, internal bleeding. She wants to fight back. She's at every disadvantage.

"C'mon," Jude jeers, "not gonna fight me? Where's the Liv I know?" "Please!" she wails as Buttercup, "-- sir please whatdidIdo?" "Shhh! Goddamn, keep it down!"

Liv rolls over. Jude's foot slams down on her back, pinning her. The flagstones and the trellises swim. She's in too deep to change tack now. It's all or nothing, double or bust.

Buttercup bawls messily on the ground.

"Shhhh!" Jude repeats with more urgency, "God's sakes, I thought you didn't want your Sir to catch you."

She cries quieter. Pets do as they're told. But she keeps crying. It's the least Liv thing she can think to do.

#my writing #bbu #just acting #liv ramone #jude barncroft #lights camera action #here we go again #sorry to those who are still waiting to hear how smith is #we're going to be following liv for a while longer

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maybege · 1 year

Note

You and me and lord huron is like that meme where the brains are on the same wavelengths you know the one with the blue background

All I know is whatever happened led to this altered calmer situation here and I’m a fan!!! Lord Huron only gets better with age so the wait will be *chefs kiss*

I’m so glad writing happened for you! I know you’ve felt a bit stuck! Cramps are the worst but taking care of yourself and not forcing anything is always good

But yes the angst!! The drama! *insert Leslie Knope here you know the one* some deep rivalry between the clans? Between Paz and another suitor? And somehow you two end up apart (war, arranged marriage, idk dealers choice) and he’s fighting his way to you but he gets there. And. And. And it’s too late, you’re gone, somewhere he’s not sure he can follow. And there’s rain and maybe something burning so the fire gives ~drama~ and he’s there, exhausted, muddy, desperate. Devastated. And maybe, to tie in the next lines, you had had some fight. Things were said that weren’t meant, just meant to hurt (baby I don’t mean the things I said / I don’t honestly wish you were dead). Maybe you weren’t always friends, or lovers, or anything at all. Maybe you were still figuring out how to be honest, to be vulnerable. And right when maybe you were starting to figure it out you’re ripped from each other.

Wow that got out of hand anyway byeeeee

-💛

Ps I can’t remember some of the lord huron stuff I sent. Maybe one day I’ll remember it or it’ll appear somewhere idk anyway take care !

It’s us on our Lord Huron bs 😌

I think in my head I’ve got the calmer fix it au kind of figured out which means that I hope i get to finish it as soon as this flu is over and then there’s no holding me back from the absolute divine AU that is the Lord Huron inspired ones 👀

Oh oh oh i Love that 🥺 it’s raining and the ruins are burning and the river is lit up by the blaster fire but all he can think of is you and how you must’ve been dragged away by your captor before he and his warriors arrived. Yes, you might’ve had a big fight before - both of you said things you never meant, feelings got hurt, maybe hearts got broken but stars, Paz loves you. Even if it was just an arranged marriage in the beginning, it’s no longer just that for him. For him, you’re it. And he’ll burn down planets if it means having you safe and sound in his arms again.

And imagine the relief and the sorrow when he finally finds you. You’re a little bruised and scared but thank the stars not too badly hurt (though that will not keep Paz from making your captor regret the day he was born) and when he sees you, you’re just rushing into his arms, sobbing out apologies, confessing you never meant any of the words and hiccuping that, “Paz, I - all I thought was what if those are the last words I’ve ever said to you and I -“ before you trail off into sobs again.

Paz doesn’t say anything. Underneath his helmet, tears are just trailing down his cheeks as he holds you so close so he never has to let you go again. “Let us go home, cyare,” he whispered finally, his voice suspiciously hoarse, “Let me take you home.”

PS: Your Lord Huron Asks are safe and sound in my inbox for the very sad reason that I’m scared if I post them, they’ll get lost in The Tumblr before I need them again for the fics 🥲 though as I’m writing this I suppose I could just give them a unique tag to find them again 🤔

#may answers #💛 anon #paz vizsla x reader

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starry-hughes · 1 year

Text

prompt list

feel free to use any of the prompts for requests! i will most likely use them for full fics or blurbs!

angst prompts

“Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry.”

“Why are you so jealous?”

“Stop yelling!”

“You think I care about you? Cute.”

“Don’t do this here. You’re making a scene.”

“I’m yours. You know I’m yours.”

“Can you please come and get me?”

“I’m at the hospital.”

“I just needed to hear your voice. You alright?”

“I’m done. I’m done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction.”

“I see your face everywhere. Don’t you get that?”

“When did you stop loving me?”

“I just need some space.”

“We can’t fix this.”

“You… you never had a problem with it before.”

“You deserved to know.”

”I’ll take the couch.”

“Pack your shit and go.”

“I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.”

“I miss him.”

“You didn’t call. You didn’t text. Nothing.”

“I know you still love me.”

“Am I too late?”

“Tell me what I can do to make you stay. What I can say, so you won’t leave. I need to know how I can fix this!”

“Stop pushing everyone away.”

“You said you’d follow me anywhere.” — “You know I can’t follow you here.”

“I do care about you. I just had no other choice.”

“Leave. Before we wake up regretting what we’ve done.”

“Everyone told you me not to trust you. And I didn’t listen.”

“Don’t you dare walk away.”

fluff prompts

“I know everything about you, darling, and you’re so perfect.”

“I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me.”

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“Sorry for waking you up, baby. Go back to sleep.”

“Could you play with my hair?”

“Wait. You’ve seriously never kissed anyone before?”

“Hey, uh… where’s our kid?”

“I thought you knew you’ve always been my favorite.”

“There you are! I was… hey… what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“You weren’t supposed to see my lock screen!”

“I miss you. Please come home.”

“You better have a really good reason for being out of bed.”

“Can you stay? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“You’re so cute when you’re sick and needy.”

“Shh, it’s alright. Your mind’s just playing tricks on you.”

“You’re not fine. You need to rest.”

“You’re cute when you smile, you should smile often.”

“Whoever has a problem with us can come talk to me.”

“I mean… I-I’m cool sharing the bed if you are.”

“I don’t want anyone else. I don’t want this stupid party or this stupid alcohol. I just want you.”

“Shush. You’ll wake the kids.”

“Would you stop that? I’m busy.”

“Here, have my sweatshirt, it’s too cold out for just a t-shirt.”

“The date didn’t go well. Yeah, he/she didn’t like how I kept mentioning you.”

“Do you want me to carry you?”

“I’m so in love with you.”

“Let’s grow old and make memories.”

“You’re finally back! Tell me about your trip!”

“Do you think they’ll notice if I steal a kiss?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to tell me.”

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itsapeterthing · 3 years

Text

Who’s She? || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x doctor!reader

summary: when sam gets injured during a mission and isn’t able to go to a hospital, bucky brings him and natasha to his own home to get cared for by his girlfriend, y/n, who he’s been keeping a secret.

a/n: this is my first time writing for bucky! reblogs and replies are super appreciated! also here i'm going to pretend that bucky didn’t get snapped so you started dating during the blip and natasha didn’t die

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of blood, sam getting shot, fluff

masterlist || request

“Shit.”

He followed the sound of the gunshot to another open room within the warehouse. He watched as the group they had been fighting fled the building, hopping into their trucks and speeding away before he even had the chance to process what was happening in front of him never mind go after them. When the group dispersed out of the room he finally saw what all the commotion had been about- Sam was lying on the floor with Natasha kneeling above him at his side.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, jogging towards where the two of them were in the center of the large, open room.

Natasha looked up, her hands feeling around Sam’s shoulder, blood coating her hands.

“There’s no exit wound.” She told him finally, standing up. “We have to get him out of here.”

Bucky watched as Sam groaned, still lying on the ground, with his hand putting pressure on his shoulder.

“So, what?” Bucky asked her. “We take him to a hospital?”

Nat shook her head. “We weren’t supposed to be here. If we take him to a hospital now... they’ll find out.” She turned back to Sam. “Feel good enough to walk?” She asked him.

“I don’t know.” Sam said. “How far are we going?”

Natasha shrugged, placing her fist underneath her chin, assessing the situation.

“Well,” She told him. “We can’t go to a hospital... but I could try my best in the back of the van.”

At that, Sam pushed himself up onto his elbows with a look of fear in his eyes as he turned to look between Natasha and Bucky.

“You’re joking right?” He grimaced. “There’s nothing else we can do?”

Watching the situation play out before him, Bucky swore to himself knowing what he was about to do and partly regretting the decision before he even made it. As much as Sam could piss him off, he knew better than to let him suffer under Nat attempting to stitch him up. He couldn’t let him go through that when there was a better way.

“Shit.” Bucky shook his head, reaching his hand out to Sam to pull him up. “Fine. I know somewhere we can go.”

Natasha and Sam looked at each other, quirking their eyebrows, questioning how Bucky of all people would know somewhere to go in a situation like this. Not in a position to argue, however, Sam took his hand, standing to his feet.

“So... where are we headed?”

It had been a half an hour long drive before Bucky finally pulled the car over to the side of the road outside of an apartment building. Natasha and Sam followed his lead as he walked inside, up the stairs and unlocked one of the doors with his set of keys.

Hearing the key turning in the lock and commotion outside your apartment door, you spun around from your seat on the couch watching as you boyfriend, Bucky walked in the door of your shared apartment.

“You were gone for so long you almost had me wor-”

Before you could finish your sentence you watched as none other than Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff made their way through the door of your apartment. Although you had never been introduced, you recognized them immediately as members of the famous group of Avengers and coworkers of your boyfriend.

You sprung up from your seat immediately upon seeing these unfamiliar familiar faces. That’s when you noticed the blood coating the upper half of Sam’s suit and Natasha’s hands. Your eyes shot open wide, turning to face Bucky.

“James?” You said his name slowly.

“He got shot. There was nowhere else we could go, Y/n.” He told you. “You can fix it right?”

You made your way around the couch, rushing to Sam’s side and guiding him to sit on the cushions, continuing your conversation with Bucky all the while.

“I work in the maternity ward, Buck.” You reminded him.

Sam’s mouth dropped and Natasha, still standing in the doorway watched the conversation playing out between you and Bucky, still unsure of who you were.

Sam angled his neck to face Bucky from his seat on the couch. “You took me to a gynecologist?”

“She’s a doctor!” Bucky shouted at Sam, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“A maternity doctor!” Sam shouted back. “Do I look like-”

“If you don't want her help then-”

“Stop it!” You shouted, breaking up the useless, unnecessary conversation between the two men. They both went silent at the sound of your raised voice, turning back to face you. “Buck, go get my kit from the bathroom, okay?”

He quickly nodded, heading out of the room. As he did, you turned to Natasha who was still standing in the doorway.

“We need to get this suit off. I can’t work through it.”

She nodded, making her way across the living room, kneeling in front of Sam. Pulling a knife out of the holster at the side of her leg, she began slicing through the shoulder of his suit so that the two of you could take it off without raising his arms, affecting the wound.

When Bucky strolled back into the room, carrying your kit in his hands, Sam turned to him while Natasha continued to slice at his suit.

“So... how come she gets to call you ‘Buck’ and I can't?” He asked.

You smiled as you opened the kit, pulled gloves over your hands and set up your materials at your side. Slipping the jacket off of his shoulders, Bucky replied.

“Because she’s my girlfriend.”

A silence hung in the room for a moment as Natasha and Sam took their time to process the words that had just come out of Bucky’s mouth. It was almost impossible for them to comprehend that he had a life outside of the business they got into or that he could care for someone in such a way. The idea of someone like Bucky living out a domestic life in his free time was unbelievable.

“Wait your... but you...” Sam stumbled through his words, turning to look between you and the grumpy, 106 year-old man he had gotten to know over the past few years. Finally he broke into a smile, chuckling. “No way.”

You laughed, grabbing a seat from your dining table and pulling it up to Sam, plopping yourself down in it. Pulling your tray of materials towards him, you smiled. “Yes way. Good to know he’s mentioned me.”

You looked over your shoulder and winked at your boyfriend who was leaning against the wall behind you, his arms crossed.

“I’m just protecting you, doll.” He smirked. “You know that.”

Natasha tore off the last piece of the suit, stepping away from Sam, sinking herself into a nearby armchair.

“Gross.” She commented at the sound of the pet name Bucky held for you.

Laughing at her comment, you leaned forward, a cotton swab with numbing jelly in your hand.

“I know, baby. I’m just messing with you.” You told your boyfriend before turning your attention back to Sam. When you noticed him eyeing you warily, you said. “You can trust me. I may work in the maternity ward, but I know what I’m doing.”

He then nodded and watched as you pressed the swab against his shoulder holding it in place. As you continued applying a light pressure, Sam finally took in your surroundings, now noticing the framed photos scattered along the walls and surfaces of you and Bucky, of Bucky and Steve from back in the day and of you and- who Sam assumed were- your friends. He didn’t know how he didn’t see all of them when he first came in, being able to realize that you and Bucky shared the space as a home.

“How did you even lock this down?” Sam asked, glancing up towards Bucky.

Natasha, kicking back in her seat laughed. “Rogers always said you were ‘quite the ladies’s man’ back in the good ol’ days, Barnes. Who knew you still had it in you?”

Rather than play into their game, Bucky rolled his eyes, sitting down on the coffee table, grumbling to himself.

Sam turned back towards you. “So what did it?”

You glanced at your wrist watch, pulling the swab off of Sam’s shoulder, tossing it to your side and instead picking up what Sam thought to have looked like a sort of tweezer as he watched.

“What do you mean?” You asked, a light smile playing on your lips.

You knew this conversation was making your boyfriend want to kick everyone out of your shared appointment and that the only thing stopping him was that you were currently taking a bullet out of one of their shoulders.

“Like what did it, you know?” Sam asked, laughing. “Was it the staring? It was the staring wasn't it? He stares all the god damn time. It pisses me right off.”

You grinned, continuing the conversation as you slipped the tweezer into Sam’s bullet wound, hoping to distract him. Once you pulled the bullet out successfully and dropped it onto the table besides you, you grabbed the materials to stitch the hole closed.

“He does stare a lot, doesn’t he?” You laughed. “You’re right though actually. I caught him staring at me at a bar and slipped him my number. I figured he was too nervous to ask for it. That was what? Two years ago now?" You asked, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend.

"Yeah something like that." Bucky replied, nonchalantly.

He was trying to act casual in front of his friends. That night was two years and three months ago to the day and he knew it when you asked. Bucky Barnes wished he could forget about a lot of things in his extended lifetime, but until the day he dies he swore to himself he would never forget the night he met you. Seeing you sitting across the bar from him changed his life for the better and he never wanted that to end. So much so that little did you know that he had bought a ring for you six months ago with the help of his best friend and most trusted confidant, but until the right moment arises it continues to sit in his locked safe in your shared bedroom.

“God, man, I can’t believe you kept this a secret for that long!” Sam exclaimed before cringing as he watched you slip the needle into his skin. “And to think- I thought we were friends.”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes. “We’re coworkers.”

“You know what? That hurt.” Sam shook his head, pausing, before turning back to Natasha. “You’re pretty quiet. This antique has had a secret girlfriend for two years and you’ve got nothing to say?”

At his comment, Natasha stopped staring at the pictures on the wall, instead turning back to the group.

“Two years huh?” She asked. “That means Rogers knew didn’t he?”

Suddenly Bucky was very interested in staring at his hands as a silence washed over the room. You knew Steve leaving to travel back to the past a few months ago was still a sensitive subject for your boyfriend. Despite the fact that the other Avengers- or former Avengers- knew nothing of your existence, you had met Steve more times than you could count and you knew how important his friendship was to Bucky.

“Uh... yeah.” Bucky answered finally, clearing his throat.

Saving your boyfriend from the awkward conversation surrounding a touchy subject, you finished the last of your stitches on Sam, leaning back in your seat, pulling off your gloves and dropping the materials at your side.

“There!” You announced. “All done! Just try not to move that spot too much for the next few weeks, okay?”

“That’s easier said than done.” Sam said, smiling, glancing at his stitched up wound. “Not everyone just has a metal arm that can do the job for them.”

You laughed, maneuvering your way around the couch and into the kitchen to rinse the remainders of blood from your hands in the sink. As the warm water ran on top of your hands, you felt the unmistakable cold touch of vibranium wrap around your waist. As you scrubbed your hands in the sink, a hint of a smile gracing your face, you felt your boyfriend’s other hand tuck the piece of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear.

“Thanks for doing that. I know I put you in a weird spot.” He almost whispered, leaving a light kiss on your cheek.

You heard the sound of Sam laughing at something Natasha had just said in the other room and shrugged.

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck.” You said. “Honestly... I kind of liked it. Not that Sam was shot or anything obviously- that’s awful and it’s terrifying that if it were somewhere else he could’ve died- but it’s good to feel... I don’t know... needed like that.”

You turned off the faucet and the second you did, your boyfriend handed you the towel, unwrapping his arm from around your waist and stepping back to look at you.

“But you are needed?” He said, leaning on the countertop. “I wouldn’t be able to do any of this or anything without you.”

You shrugged again, drying your hands.

“I know, Bucky. That’s not...” You sighed. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t know... it just kind of feels... cool.”

“Cool?” He asked, quirking his eyebrows and grinning at you while he said it.

You groaned.

“Yes! It made me feel cool!” You said, throwing the rag on the counter. “You guys are legitimate superheroes. All of you live like you’re in some action movie most days so yeah- it made me feel kind of cool to be included. Maybe you don’t notice it after all this time, but it felt exciting to me.”

He flashed you a smile, pushing himself off of the counter to rest his hands on your waist.

“So, you like heroes, huh?” He asked, clearly teasing you.

Although he was flirting by attempting to tease you for what you had just said, he admittedly felt his heart fill a bit more knowing that you thought of him as a hero.

You smiled, pulling on the dog tags that hung around his neck, teasing him right back.

“No, but I do like 106-year-old grumpy old men who have me stitch up their superhero friends.”

“I’m not grumpy.” He pouted.

“The first step is acceptance, babe.” You fake pouted, stepping back from his arms and lightly tapping him on the cheek. “Now go ask your superhero friends if they want anything to drink.”

Just as you finished your sentence you heard a shout from the other room.

“I’ll have a water if you don’t mind!”

At the sound of his voice you and Bucky turned towards each other, eyes wide.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Bucky called from the kitchen back to Sam who was sat in the living room, separated by a wall.

“Thin walls!” Sam called.

“I’d hate to be your neighbors!” Natasha added.

As tough as your boyfriend was, you watched as he became flustered, knowing the others had just heard him flirting with you in the kitchen. You laughed, patting him on the shoulder before grabbing two waters from the fridge and making your way back into the living room, handing one to each of your uninvited guests. Bucky followed behind you as you plopped yourself back down on the couch watching a conversation between Natasha, Bucky and Sam unfold.

While Bucky and Sam had a harmless argument about the mission they had just been on, you felt a soft pat on your arm and turned to see Nat facing you.

“About what you said in the kitchen-” She began.

Remembering what you had told Bucky in the kitchen minutes before about them being movie-like superheroes, you grew embarrassed.

“Oh God! I’m sorry. You really don’t have to mention it-” You said, cutting her off.

“No, seriously.” She told you. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have been able to fix him up like that. It was nice to have you there.”

As badly as you wanted to play it cool in front of her, you couldn’t help but smile. As embarrassing as you thought it was for them to hear everything you told your boyfriend in confidence, you meant every word you had said and it meant a lot for Natasha to acknowledge you in such a way.

“Thanks. That means a lot.” You smiled.

When you turned back in your seat, you noticed that the conversation between Sam and Bucky had ended and that they both were turned towards you and Natasha.

“Yeah, thanks for that, Y/n. I think I would have rather bled out then let her fix it.” Sam added and Natasha scoffed. “Hey, now that we know you exist we could use you! It’d be nice to have someone keep this robot in check.” He shrugged at your boyfriend.

Whether it was because he was genuinely enjoying himself or it was just because he was beside you, Bucky chuckled at Sam’s comment, stretching his arm over your shoulders as the two of you sat on the couch chatting with the two of them.

“I’d like that.” You laughed, leaning comfortably into your boyfriend. “Oh! Does that mean I can get a metal arm too-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, your boyfriend cut you off.

“Absolutely not.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff

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admiringlove · 3 years

Text

hurtful things

+synopsis: genshin boys and the hurtful things they said.

+genre: angst; headcanons.

+characters: kaeya; diluc; childe; zhongli.

+warnings: swearing; crying; implied panic attack.

+order: hey bubs! i saw you doing requests and i HAD to ask for genshin angst :) spare me some tears pls <//3 preferably w kaeya or diluc or childe :) [submitted by @crackheadsara]

+author’s note: okay so i included zhongli bc he’s the love of my life, also i needed comfort from him after writing such hurtful things :D

+navigation: main menu, genshin menu.

— KAEYA.

“i’m better off without you.”

you know from the way your door was knocked in the middle of the night on a weekday after months, that it’s kaeya. you rub your eyes sleepily, trudging towards the door as anger and doubt fuse into a nasty green in your mind.

you unlock the door, pulling it open to see the man with the eyepatch tapping his foot on the deck of your home impatiently. he smirks when his eye lands on you, attempting to walk in but stopping himself when he realizes you're standing at the door, unmoving.

"kaeya, it's three in the morning. and it's monday. i have to report to jean in three hours," you mumble tiredly as you look up at him. the lamp grass by your windowsill outside and the moonlit night accentuated his cerulean eyes and contrasting coffee-colored skin. he frowns, peering down at you as he asks, "may i come in?"

you shrug, opening the door wide as you let the man in. he places his sword on the table and proceeds to walk into the bedroom when you ask, "where have you been for the past two weeks?"

"work," his reply is the same. you let out a sigh in impatience as you retort, "that's the same excuse as always."

he was tired and wanted to sleep off the fatigue from his latest mission. but when he hears you say that, something in him snaps and he turns around, his jaw clenched and a fixed glare making you a little agitated. he raises an eyebrow as he says, "well, unlike you, i am an actual important member of the knights of favonius."

"kaeya, all i meant was that you're always gone. you never write a letter back even if i send you one, and you somehow manage to come back every single time, expecting that it doesn't hurt me. what am i supposed to do?" your voice is small as you look down, hair drooping towards the ground. you're not even yelling at him, you're just worried. he always leaves you alone(sometimes you tag along, but you couldn't tell why nowadays he'd leave you alone without some sort of warning).

"does it ever occur to you that you're just a hindrance?" he bites back, thinking that you're trying to put up a front. you flinch at his words, causing him to force a jeer before he starts again, "you always come along, so maybe i wanted to be away from you for a bit. that's why i leave without a warning so i don't have to tend to your yapping all day. because i'm better off without you."

you gasp as you look up to his figure, now retreating to your shared bedroom. you hear him fall onto the bed with a content sigh as you stand there, wiping at your tears incessantly as hiccups escape your lips. you bit your tongue to stop yourself from crying, pressing a hand on your mouth to muffle the sounds so you don't disturb kaeya. you get a quick peek in, eyes widening when you see him sound asleep and tucked in.

so that's how it was, you think.

the next morning, kaeya wakes up to a cold bed as his arm reaches out to an empty space. his eyes immediately pry open as he wakes up, to see that you weren't here.

ah, he ponders to himself, you must've gone to tend to your duties.

he stretches, letting out a yawn before walking out to the kitchen. he smiles when he sees a plate of food left for him on the countertop with a note from you. but somehow, something felt very wrong about this whole ordeal. this had happened before—he had come back from insanely long missions to you before, so what felt different?

and then it hits him. the things he said last night. he frantically looks around, his azure eyes completely drowned in horror as he notices small changes in your shared household. a few picture frames are missing on the living room walls, your keychain isn't on the bookshelf anymore, and worst of all, when he runs into the closet, half of your clothes are gone.

did you really feel that bad about what he said?

in panic, he runs out and keeps going till he reaches the headquarters of the knights. he barges in this time, not returning the greetings of the guards upfront as he walks into jean's office.

"where are they?" he pants, "i-i messed up, do you know where they are?"

jean's eyes widen as she says, "our associates were having a hard time handling with the fatui in liyue harbor so they volunteered to go there for sometime."

"how long has it been?"

"they left long ago, it's about to be around ten hours since," she says. kaeya's heart shatters as he hears those words. he hadn't expected you to outright leave like that, but if you had said the same things to him, he definitely would've stormed out. his voice cracks as he looks at the ground in shame, "h-how long until they'll be back?"

"i.. don't know."

he regrets everything he's said. he truly does because he doesn't even notice that tears are streaming down his cheeks until jean comes to his aid. he hates himself for all of it—he hates that he has to live in a home where traces of you are visible everywhere; worst of all, he hates how he knows he lost you for good. even if you come back, he knows you wouldn’t run and melt into his arms like you did before. you’re gone now, fading into the darkness and away from him.

maybe it was for the best.

— DILUC.

“you’re nothing but a burden.”

after taking on a few abyss mages and mitachurls, diluc lets a grunt out in pain before you see the slash on his right arm. you gasp, pulling him to the side of the lake as you pull out a bandage and cotton from your bag to clean his wounds. he's reluctant to it at first, but he sits there quietly and broods as you clean the blood with cotton and some type of healing ointment.

you tie the bandage on his arm, a tiny bit of vermillion liquid seeping through the white cloth before sitting down next to him, finally catching a breath. sighing, you look up at him and say, "that was reckless."

"no, what you did was reckless. who told you to come along with me to dadaupa gorge? you knew what you were getting into when you came along, so don't put this on me," he grumbled, frowning as you look at him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. you are sort of hurt, but you know he's only saying this in faux indignation, so it's okay. you chuckle out, beginning, "diluc, i was-"

"i don't know why i even bother with you at this point," he exasperates, looking into the distance behind you. he curses slightly under his breath, his rouge eyes filled to the brim with anger as it finally overflows, "you're nothing but a burden."

your eyes suddenly flick to gape at him in disbelief. you stand up, your voice hitching in your throat as you ask, "diluc, you mean that?"

and it all simmers down into ashes when he mumbles "of course i do" under his breath. your vision is blurry as you walk away from the red-haired man, your body trembling as you almost give away that you're crying your eyes out. you walk back in the direction the two of you came from, leaving your broken heart in the hands of diluc, who sat by the lake not muttering a word after.

he knows he's said things he doesn't mean; he does that all the time, but you probably knew that. he figures you're leaving to catch a breath of fresh air—to be away from the tension-filled environment for a bit, you had a habit of doing that at home. he sighs as he ponders over his words for a bit. he knew it was wrong to display such harshness to you, but you probably knew he didn't mean anything by it. he always bubbled over rash things when he was frustrated.

the sun sets in front of him, painting hues of aubergine and peach as it flows down. he wonders where you are, getting up from his spot by the lake to venture towards the path you walked off.

only when he can't find you, is when he thinks that you might've actually taken offense to his words. although he cares about you sincerely, he finishes his mission first, getting a lead on the abyss order—because protecting monstadt was his first priority. you lingered in his mind every second of every day till he finally got back home. and when he didn't find you there, he asks adelinde about it, who only shakes her head and tells him, "i'm sorry, master diluc, but i haven't seen them come back. i thought they were with you."

it all pieces together in his mind now, how a small gasp had escaped your lips when he had called you a burden. the way you nodded begrudgingly, getting up and walking away from his presence as your shoulders trembled. the way he could hear you choke back a sob, but still ignored it, thinking you had overreacted in the situation.

he searches the whole city for you. he searches every nook and corner, and even walks into the headquarters of the knights of favonius(he ignores kaeya's teases instead of biting back this time). and when he finally sees you, he holds himself back. his hand is suspended awkwardly in the air as he reaches out for you, your back turned towards him.

maybe this was better—maybe it was a good thing that you had walked away from him. this way, the abyss order won't be able to harm you. this way, he won't be able to harm you. this way, you'll be safe and sound, away from the storm known as diluc ragnvindr.

— CHILDE.

“it’s not like you mean anything to me.”

it's not often you see childe. he's always in liyue, and you're here, stuck in monstadt or snezhnaya. it's cold today(as it always is) in snezhnaya, the snow covered almost everything outside as you looked out of your window, sipping on hot coffee as you sigh at the wilting roses on the sill. they'd wilted when you had gone to monstadt and you didn't have the heart to plant new ones.

just thinking about the blue-eyed childish man would make your heart bloom and cheeks flustered. you longed to spend more time with him, really. if only he wasn't affiliated with the fatui, he'd be able to spend more time with you. it had been months since you had seen him, and you longed to be in his arms once again, but who knows when that'll happen again? whenever he comes home, he chooses to spend a night with you and then head back. he'd laugh alongside you, tell you about his adventures, and give small reactions when you told him about yours. and the next morning, you'd wake up to an empty bed with a small note by the table, saying how he has to leave for work.

a knock at your door snaps you out of your entranced state. as you open the lock and look out, you see childe, standing there with a tired grin and disheveled hair as he walks in without a word. he hands you a small paper bag, saying, "i brought you back something from liyue this time."

the same excuse, you think. it's always the same. he brings back small mementos and souvenirs as a pretense for staying, and by the time you think you can forgive him, he's gone. he plops down onto the sofa, stretching his arm out so you could join him. the thought of confronting him crosses your mind, but you shake it off—since he had only just gotten back.

the night is the same as always. talking about each others' adventures, eating dinner by the fireplace, laughing alongside one another until you hit the bed. it's quiet now as you watch over his sleeping figure, his lapis-colored eyes now hidden. you sigh as you lay there for hours on end, twiddling with his brown hair as you wait for him to wake up(so this time you can actually say goodbye).

when his eyes flutter open, he's a little taken aback when he looks over at you to see you wide awake. his brows furrow just a smidge as he says, "you're up."

"well, i wanted to say goodbye this time," you chuckle dryly, "you always leave without waking me up."

"i don't like the way you said that," he says, getting up from his position on the bed. you look away from him, your eyes displaying hurt as you murmur, "i don't like the way you leave."

"well, it's my job. it's not like i'm an adventurer like you, wasting my time around. i'm a harbinger and i have responsibilities," he says. his voice is neither too soft and nor too prickly, and you can tell that he's a little worked up by the way he lightly nips on the skin of his bottom lip as his gaze bores into you.

"i didn't say you don't. all i said was that you could maybe sometimes stay for more than one night. it feels like you're using me, and when you're bored, you leave."

"oh?" he cocks an eyebrow as he stands up, "i'm using you, huh?"

you grimace at the tone of his voice, and when you look at him, you notice the sheer annoyance he puts up towards you. your voice is small when you ask him if he loves you—because you don't know anymore. seeing him once in a few months for the past few years has sure hurt you more than anything, and if you don't tell him now, then you might never get a chance.

"what if i say i don't?" he smirks, walking up to you, "it's not like you mean anything to me. what if i agree that i am using you to make myself happy until i'm bored, so i can then throw you away?"

he doesn't like what he's saying either. his mind is screaming at him to stop, but he's worked up. he's irritated by the way you jabbed at him first thing in the morning, even though he knows you're right. his heart almost stops when he looks at the expression on your face after he says those words, and as he reaches out his hand for you, you turn away.

your voice cracks, and he's sure his heart did as well when you mumble, "i-i'd like you to leave, please."

"wait, i didn't mean-"

"tartaglia," your eyes look into his, perhaps for the last time, as you give him a sad smile, "you don't have to come back to me anymore."

it hurts him as he leaves your home that morning. it hurts him when he comes back months later to see that your home is now empty. it hurts him because he tarnished the you that was once his.

it hurts him, but he thinks it's for the best if you stay away from him if all he does is bring you pain.

— ZHONGLI.

“i’d like you to leave me alone.”

zhongli was never one to pick fights. he was peaceful; his thoughts were positive(most of the time), and he almost always preferred to talk about his problem rather than fighting about it—he believes that fighting will only bring pain, so why not confide in one another about our problems instead?

he's quiet. he's not shy(it's quite the opposite, actually), but he's one to prefer to only talk when absolutely necessary. he's the type to listen rather than speak, saying something like, "we have two ears and one mouth. speak less than you listen."

he smiles when his mind goes back to the time when he said that to you while having a cup of tea together, and you'd replied, "my mother used to tell me that when i was a child."

because it's true; every child in liyue harbor has heard those words at least once in their lives. the quality of listening is appreciated more than the quality of speaking—and zhongli, for one, was a listener.

you, on the other hand, were a speaker. you always woke him up every morning with a smile as bright and everlasting as the sun, babbling about breakfast and tea as he got up from the bed. you were the one that carried conversations on your shoulders on morning walks, you were the one that intertwined your fingers with his as the two of you walked amongst flowers, adoring them as you talked about the contrasting colors of silk flowers and glaze lilies. he loved you for that. he loved you because you were a speaker. he loved you because you were a perfect balance, the only one who could soften his hardened heart. the only one whom he'd chosen to wake up next to in the mornings, the only one whom he'd let ruffle his hair without asking(because he secretly liked it).

so why had he reversed the roles tonight? why was he the one to bubble out his frustrations to you, speaking in a cold and stern manner instead of the loving tone that was only reserved for you? why was he the one to speak tonight, and why were you the one to listen?

it's not like he was actually frustrated—he was only thinking about something else as you asked him what he wanted for dinner. it surely wasn't your fault when he had poured over turbulent words to you. and he knows that the ones that hurt the most probably were, "i'd like you to leave me alone."

he looks up at the stars, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he walks back into his shared home with you. he looks around, and when there's no sign of you, he feels himself break apart even more.

had you actually left? he wants to run to you and tell you he hadn't meant any of those words because he hadn't. he wants to touch you, to caress you, to please you, to make you smile—and he wants to admit he was wrong. he wants to make it right, but he doesn't know where you are.

he walks into the empty bedroom, sitting on the cold mattress as his eyes sting. he doesn't understand what's happening, or why there are small drops of water falling from his eyes. he doesn't understand why everything feels heavy all of a sudden—his heart, his throat his lungs, everything. he doesn't understand why he feels like he's trapped in a box, and the water seems to be filling up more quickly than he'd prefer. he wants to reach for air, but he can't.

he couldn't breathe without you.

he hears the door close and immediately gets up in haste to walk to the living room where he sees you take off your boots. you turn around to see him, his disheveled hair and frantic eyes finally calming as he walks over to you and engulfs you in a warm embrace. his throat cleared up, and so did his heart and lungs as he mumbles against your ear, "i'm so sorry."

you smile smally, looking up at him as you cup his cheeks and wipe a stray tear, and mutter, "it's okay, zhongli. stress gets to the best of us."

god, how he loves you. he places a small peck on the top of your forehead as he feels his lips turn upward at your touch and the scent of glaze lilies lingering over you tells him that you'd been to the flower garden. he sleeps with your fingers weaved with his that night and pulls you even closer if you untangle with him in sleep.

he makes a promise to himself saying he'd never hurt you like that again, and he keeps it.

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littlefreya · 3 years

Text

Vanilla Milkshake

Summer: Henry and a long time friend hangout at their usual spot when things turn chaotic because of an innocent misunderstanding...

Prompted by:

Oooh Freyaaaa I just *need* some scene featuring Henry and ofc drinking milkshake.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Unamed OFC (no description of ethnicity or body type).

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: RPF, major fluff, friends to lovers, sexual innuendo, mild seduction, sex talk, an unwanted boner, Henry being a boomer, Henry having a meltdown.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own.*

A/N: So, first thing first, thanks @agniavateira for quickly beta’ing my work! And of course thanks @the-soot-sprite for bouncing ideas with me and being an emotional support. Decided to go with friends for lovers because I live for that stuff. Also, I am aware that “Milkshake” can be interpreted in several ways but for the sake of the story I went with that particular reference. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. 🖤

Title: Vanilla Milkshake

“I swear, this diner looks like Barbie had an orgasm all over the place.” A whimsical grin sliced between Henry’s marble cheeks. Eyeing the pastel-esque surroundings, he huffed scornfully and adjusted the cap over his nest of unruly curls.

“Remind me again why we always meet here, young lady?”

Staring at the beastly man who barely managed to squeeze into the plastic-pink faux leather booth, she couldn’t help but chuckle. Henry carried himself with something that was both eloquent yet unmistakably feral, reminding her of a burly forest creature. Sturdy tree trunks stood for limbs, torso, and shoulders—the widths of icy mountains and a blanket of thick fur coated the entirety of his body, deeming him a dangerous bear.

No wonder he preferred himself clean-shaven. The sharpened edge of a razor kept him a cut away from becoming ‘Henry the Barbarian’.

Seeing him surrounded by pastel and sparkly fairy dust brought far more joy than she could ever imagine. The utter look of contempt gleamed on the surface of his shifty eyes.

Oh, by God, how much he hated glitter!

“And what would you know about Barbie’s orgasms?” she teased with a crooked eyebrow and a comical suspicious glare.

Readjusting his cap over the messy mane of chocolate curls, Henry offered a terrible wink and shrugged, “a gentleman never tells.”

Her fingers rapped on her thigh while she contemplated whether to allow this naughty joke slide, but then the urge to provoke him was far too great. After briefly chewing on the inside of her cheek, she broke into a wicked grin.

“Is that… like a role play you have with the missus? She’s Barbie, and you’re G.I.Joe? Because I kinda don’t want to hear about it, but then I kinda do.”

Henry’s smile gradually faded along with the playful glee in his eyes, his melancholic gaze dropping to the sparkly table. He slumped into a heavy sigh, “If by missus, you mean ‘Miss Hand’, then no… not really.”

Dumbfounded, she frowned at Henry with confusion when then it struck her; a sense of incredible embarrassment drained the blood from her head to her gut.

“Oh…”

“Yep.” Henry blurted and grabbed the menu, pretending to be incredibly interested in the kids’ meal options.

Just in time to rescue them from a prolonged awkward silence, the waitress arrived with their order, serving Henry a hot cup of double espresso while she received a tall glass of a luscious vanilla milkshake.

“Enjoy your drinks, guys!” the waitress smiled sweetly and kept her eyes glued to Henry as she walked away. But the gloss of the waitress’ flirtatious excitement was lost on him; drenched with greed, Henry’s blue sapphires were fixated on the generous scoops of ice cream and the dark chocolate swirls that decorated his companion’s dessert.

“Henry, my eyes are up here!” she provoked and grabbed the straw between two fingers while throwing an amused glance at his simple cup of coffee. Henry followed her gaze and scoffed before raising the cup to his mouth and blowing to cool his drink.

The way his lips pursed together and his finger stroked the ceramic surface did not escape her observation. A sudden tingle swam down the length of her spine once it resonated in her mind that kind, charming, and beastly Henry was now single. Here they were, long time buddies, but now sitting together felt less comfortable than before. Her limbs felt like pins and needles while staring directly at his eyes was as risky as staring at the sun.

“Cheers,” Henry mumbled and took a sip from his cup.

Almost jolting in her seat, she stiffened and then grabbed her straw.

“Cheers.”

Giggles came from the other side of the diner. Among the retro gumball machines and rounded plastic bar stools, the waitress and a colleague leaned against the counter and stared at Henry, who turned his head for a brief moment and tipped his head.

Their giggles turned even louder.

She frowned.

“So, have you been single for a while?” she heard herself asking with a rather urgent tone. Right away, a look of contrition crept on her face as she regretted her verbal onslaught and lack of sensitivity.

Henry directed his gaze back to her and watched as she slowly sipped from the milkshake and then suckled the cream off her mouth.

Absentmindedly, he licked his lips. “Since May. How about you, weren’t you with…?”

“No, ended, dodged a bullet.” she spat and pumped the straw up and down the thick beverage. “My milkshake brings all the boys… except it doesn't.” she sighed.

Henry frowned and shook his head with confusion. “What? You never told me you make your own milkshake. How come I never had some?”

Her face abruptly froze, her eyes rounded with surprise before she snorted so loudly the waitresses stopped their whispering.

“Umm… Hen?” she called out, trying to hold herself from bursting into chuckles as her friend accidentally asked for a very sexual favour, “you honestly don’t know what ‘milkshake’ is slang for...?”

“Uh…”

“Omg, you’re such a boomer.”

“No, I was born in ‘83! I’m a millennial. But please, indulge me.” he begged and crossed his arms together.

Clearing her throat loudly, she did her best to fight the wicked grin that stretched on her already painful cheeks and wrapped her fist around the straw. “So you know... how… certain male bodily fluids are sometimes white and creamy...? And when you perform a certain motion it’s like you’re shaking it…?”

Henry blinked and became silent. An unbidden rush of blood pooled at his groin as he watched her thumb graze over the tip of the straw and her fist pumping it into the smooth liquid in a slow, gentle motion. Wickedness glazed her eyes, but he tried to dismiss it as nothing but their usual playful banter; yet his adam’s apple bobbed up and down while his shoulder tensed at the oddly arousing sight of her performing a sinful act on a milkshake.

There was an unmistakable stir in his cock and for once, he was thankful for narrow spaces as it hid his predicament.

Leaning forward, she opened her mouth and swirled her tongue around the straw. She went deliberately slow, making him watch while she playfully licked and suckled the tip until finally wrapping her lips around it and taking a generous sip.

Henry gawked utterly smitten, unaware that his jaw was nearly at the floor.

And to make things worse, she moaned—not too loud—but definitely enough to make his shaft harden more.

She wasn’t sure what stirred this whimsical boost of confidence, only that seeing the large, handsome man pale at her provocations made her feel like the most powerful woman on earth. She also gathered she’d regret it forever and a day once they’ll part ways, but it was too late for that now.

Gingerly she pulled back, though not before allowing a single drop of cream to trickle down the corner of her lips.

“Oops,” she smirked casually, wiping the cream with her fingertip and sucking it clean.

“Please stop…”

It was then when she noticed that Henry’s playful mien was all but gone. Far from amused, he glowered with a clenched jaw. “If you’re going to keep doing that, I’ll have to leave,” he stated matter-of-factly.

A rush of panic made her freeze in her spot, the same needles that pricked her skin were now setting jolts of electric bursts. “I’m so sorry, I crossed the line,” she said and covered her mouth with shame, “did I offend you? Do you want me to leave?”

“What? No, no, not at all.” Henry’s voice softened right away, and he reached a hand in the air, as if trying to stop her from leaving. The last thing he wanted now is for her to think he is angry with her. If anything, he wished they could spend more time together, not because of his obvious arousal, but because for the first time in a long while, he was having fun.

Still, she looked at him so utterly distraught.

“Then…?”

Henry scanned the diner as if trying to make sure no one was staring or taking any photo and then shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His eyes altered between his spread thighs and her several times, trying to signal toward his… trouble.

“Oh...” she gaped.

An odd sense of pride began to permeate her chest, battling over the burning embarrassment that flamed up her neck and cheeks. At this point, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel, only that it was definitely the most awkward hangout they had to date.

Problem was, she never knew when to shut up.

“Is little Henry hungry?”

Hearing those words, his brows dropped to an irritated sulk. “There is nothing little about it.”

“Ha! Prove it!”

It was as if the entire diner and perhaps the world fell into silence. Had the clatter of the dishes being washed in the back kitchen not rung their ears, she would have thought she grew suddenly deaf.

“I didn’t mean it… sorry, I’ll stop,” she mumbled slowly and pressed her fingers to her mouth while shaking her head at her stupid behaviour. That was it, this was to be the last afternoon she would ever hang out with Henry and right now, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him.

Henry chewed onto the inside of his cheeks, trying to stop the words that came faster than his thoughts.

“You didn’t?... Because I’ll definitely be up for proving...”

She blinked at his words and tilted her head, hoping that he won’t notice the wild tremors that shook her limbs, “What was that?”

“I... yes? No?...I… fuck!”

Henry lowered his head and slapped his palms across his face, rubbing back and forth with an utter meltdown while mumbling, “Forgive me,” a couple of times. He couldn’t care less of what the waitresses or whoever was watching would think of him; all he cared about was to make her feel comfortable around him again and maybe… even make her like him?

“Henry?”

Soft and warm her voice called to him, slowly pulling him from his anguish like a sailor being rescued from a sunken ship. His blue sapphires shone, an ocean of confusion and anxiety still pooling within while he peered back at her face that was now smiling at him a mixture of comfort and exhilaration.

“Would you like some of my milkshake?”

#henry cavill #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfiction

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

you’re my best friend ~ pete davidson

word count: 2002

request?: yes!

“pete friends to lovers”

description: in which two best friends get super sappy while drunk

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol and weed usage

masterlist (one, two)

You were already two glasses of wine deep when Pete showed up, two cases of beer in his hands. He had a look of excitement on his face, which slowly fell when he realized there was no one else in your apartment.

“Everyone else cancelled,” you answered his unasked question.

“Everyone?” Pete asked.

You nodded. “Prior commitments or just not wanting to come or some shit.”

Pete came over and plopped himself down on the couch next to you. The case of beer was at his feet and he popped it open, taking out a bottle and immediately chugging it. You looked at him in amusement as he did so. Once he was finished, you asked, “Aren’t they warm?”

“Room temperature,” he corrected.

“Isn’t that gross?”

“A little, but obviously I have to catch up with you so we can be on even playing fields all night.”

You smiled and poured yourself another glass of wine as Pete opened another beer and started to drink again.

Between the heavy amounts of alcohol and the joint that Pete had brought, the two of you had gotten fucked up in no time. At some point you couldn’t even get up off the couch for more drinks, or for water that you both knew you should be drinking. The hangover you were going to have the next day was going to be killer, but in the moment neither one of you really cared.

You were both laid back on the couch, legs intertwined as you laughed at something Pete had said. It probably wasn’t even that funny, but in your inebriated state, everything was hilarious.

“You’re, like, my bestest friend, Pete,” you slurred. “No one else even bothered the show up, but you did!”

“I’m sure everyone else had like...stuff happening,” Pete said. “Adult things like...I don’t know...kids and taxes.”

You retched at the thought. “Yeah, no, I’m good with not having those adult things to do. Having kids, while extremely cute, is also extremely exhausting. But I don’t think anyone would’ve shown. No one else really...hangs out with me anymore.”

You laid your head back so you were looking at the ceiling. You could feel a lump growing in your throat and didn’t want Pete to see if you started crying. You knew this sudden emotion was most likely caused by the alcohol and the weed, but you also knew it was something genuine, a concern you had deep down that you had never voiced to anyone before.

You could hear Pete move to sit up and immediately turned your head away so he couldn’t see your face, even though you knew that looked more suspicious than anything.

“Everyone is busy, (Y/N),” he said, his voice soft. “I’m sure they’ll be able to hang out soon enough.”

“They’re not too busy to miss out on work get togethers, or going out with one another.” You sighed. “I know people grow apart and that’s just what happens when you grow up, I just didn’t think it was going to be all of my friends growing up and drifting apart all at the one time.”

“What am I, chopped liver?”

You giggled and sat up. The room spun around you as you did so and it felt like your stomach lurched. You had to take a moment to steady yourself before focusing your attention on Pete.

“I told you, you’re my bestest friend,” you said.

Pete’s smile slowly faded as he looked at you. “(Y/N), don’t cry please.”

You had forgotten about your emotional moment entirely. You wiped your cheek to find a wet streak running from your eye to your chin. You looked away from Pete again, suddenly feeling ashamed by your needless emotions. You were glad that the two of you were so drunk in that moment and would likely forget all of this the next day.

Pete’s hand lightly touched your chin, lifting it so that you were looking at him again. You looked into his eyes as he used his thumb to wipe the tears from your other cheek. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized how closely the two of you were sat together.

“I’ll always be here,” he assured you. “No matter how much we grow up or grow apart, I’ll always be one phone call away.”

You nodded, unable to get the words to unstick from your throat. You believed him, you knew he’d always be here.

The smell of beer and weed was strong as Pete leaned forward more, and normally you’d hate the smell combination. But you were too distracted by Pete’s eyes to notice, and a moment later you were too distracted by his lips on yours.

You had never viewed Pete as anything more than a friend before. You had grown up together. You were partners in crime since the first day you met in middle school. Your friends, and even your family, often made jokes that the two of you would end up together, but you both laughed it off. You were best friends, two peas in a pod, nothing more.

But now, with his lips moving against yours and his arms pulling you as close to him as you could get, you weren’t so sure. It could’ve been the drunken state the two of you were in, mixed with the emotions you were feeling just moments before. When the two of you sobered up the next day you may have not even remembered what happened, but in the moment you wanted all of him. You wanted his lips, his hands, his body, his heart, and you wanted to give him all of you in return.

His tongue brushed against your lips and you gladly let it in. It was wet and tasted like beer, so not the most romantic thing in the world, but it felt good in the moment. You felt like nothing could ruin what was happening, until your stomach lurched again.

You quickly pulled away from Pete and rushed to the bathroom. You didn’t even have time to kick the door closed behind you before you collapsed next to the toilet and threw up everything you had eaten and drank the past few hours. Pete followed closely behind you, pulling your hair back and gently rubbing your back. When you stopped throwing up for long enough, he got up to get you some water and made you drink it all before he did anything else.

“I didn’t think I was that bad of a kisser,” he joked. You glared at him over your shoulder before throwing up again.

Once you felt steady enough, Pete helped you to your feet. You brushed your teeth and took a mouthful of mouthwash in order to get rid of the taste of vomit. Pete helped you to your bedroom, where he had another glass of water and an Aspirin waiting for you.

“You’ll need that in the morning,” he said. “I’ll let you get changed.”

“You’ll stay with me though, right?” you asked. Suddenly you hated the thought of Pete having to leave.

He smiled. “Of course I will. I just want to give you some privacy while you change. You’re not supposed to see a girl naked till, like, the third date.”

You smiled back at him, a fuzzy feeling building inside of you at the thought of actually going on a date with Pete.

You changed into a pair of comfy pajamas and downed the glass of water Pete had left for you. You ventured out of your room to the kitchen to pour up another glass. You found Pete putting the bottles of beer in the recycling container and putting your glass in the sink.

“Why aren’t you as fucked up as I am right now?” you questioned.

“I could always handle my booze better than you,” he teased. You scowled and stuck your tongue out at him. He chuckled and put an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

After some convincing, Pete agreed to join you in bed. At first he laid a respectable distance away from you, but you moved close to him and placed your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, running his hands through your hair as your eyes became too heavy to stay open.

“You’ll regret this in the morning,” he murmured. “Or forget it completely.”

“Maybe,” you said, “but let’s wait for the morning to decide that.”

~~~~~~

When you woke up the next morning you groaned in pain. Your head felt heavy and like it had been stabbed by multiple little needles. You opened your eyes but had to shut them again immediately, hissing at the pain that small action caused.

Why the fuck did I drink so much last night? you questioned as you braced yourself and opened your eyes again.

You found yourself alone in bed, which didn’t seem too unusual until you remembered that you hadn’t been alone when you fell asleep. Pete had been there, more specifically he had been cuddling you.

You’ll regret this in the morning, you recalled him saying before you drifted off to sleep. You wondered if he had left before you had the chance to decide how you felt about the events of the night before.

You popped two Aspirin pills into your mouth and swallows them with a mouthful of water. You pulled yourself out of bed and slowly walked out of your room, the only speed you could manage in this state. You were halfway to your kitchen when you realized you were smelling something; bacon. You wondered where the smell was coming from, and didn’t have to look far to get the answer.

Pete was stood by your stove, two plates full of eggs and toast already sat next to him. When he heard you enter, he turned and greeted you with a smile.

“Good morning sleeping beauty!” he said. His loud voice pierced your ears and you quickly covered them and groaned. He chuckled. “You poor thing, you’re gonna hate today.”

“I already do,” you said. “Is that for me?”

He looked down at the plate of breakfast. “One of them is, yeah. Do you think you can keep it down?”

“I can try.”

The two of you sat at your dining room table and began to eat. Although your stomach still didn’t feel right, the food was definitely soaking up whatever alcohol was left in your system and thus was making the splitting headache you had subside just a little bit.

There was an awkward silence looming over the two of you. Despite what you thought the night before, you could still remember every detail; the emotional conversation, the kiss, the cuddling, how you felt when the latter two things were happening. You knew Pete remembered because he certainly wasn’t as fucked up as you were.

“Do you regret it?” you found yourself suddenly asking.

Pete looked up from his breakfast, fake confusion on his face. “What do you mean?”

You gave him a look. “Pete, I remember last night. I remember what we did, and what you said before I fell asleep.”

He sighed, turning his attention back to his food. “I don’t know...do you regret it?”

“I don’t,” you admitted. “If anything, I...I feel whatever the opposite of regret is. The only thing I regret is getting so drunk I threw up after we kissed.”

He smiled. “Yeah, that’s not exactly great timing.”

You looked at him, still waiting for his answer. Finally, he looked up at you again and said, “I don’t regret it either.”

“So what do we do now?” you asked.

Pete thought for a moment before saying, “I take you out on a date, one where we’re both completely sober, and we decide if we really want to do this. How does that sound?”

You smiled brightly at him. “I think that sounds like a great plan.”

#Pete Davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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commander-krios · 1 year

Text

I posted 7,054 times in 2022

That's 462 more posts than 2021!

372 posts created (5%)

6,682 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@biotic-boshtet

@miniature-space-hamster

@aceghosts

@commander-krios

@thefrostyshepard

I tagged 5,209 of my posts in 2022

Only 26% of my posts had no tags

#mass effect - 1,256 posts

#femshep - 257 posts

#kaidan alenko - 245 posts

#inspiration - 245 posts

#swtor - 210 posts

#cats - 203 posts

#quotes - 199 posts

#video - 198 posts

#star wars - 196 posts

#aurora x joker - 181 posts

Longest Tag: 118 characters

#and you're gay. they're gonna be calling you a kawaii smol bean cinnamon roll owo and drawing you in flower crowns.

My Top Posts in 2022:

Beautiful commission of Aurora and Joker that I got from the wonderful @me1onmi1k. Thank you so much for your hard work. It’s everything I’ve been wanting. <3

106 notes - Posted January 24, 2022

Angsty Love Prompt List

“You say you’re dangerous. That you destroy everything you touch. So destroy me. Ruin me. Tear me apart, and let me love you all the same. “

“And I'm not afraid to love you. Only afraid my love won’t be enough. “

“I feel like shit.” “You look like it, too.” *they bump shoulders*

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to do this to me.”

"Nothing about any moment I've ever spent with you will ever be a regret.”

"I'll find you. Okay? I promise you, whatever happens, I’ll find you, and we'll be together, and everything will be good again. "

“Do you truly believe that anything so little as a rule, or a law, might have stopped me from protecting you? “

“You. I'll always and endlessly fight for you. “

“This path you’re on… it’s gonna get you killed. You know that, though; don’t you? “

“What the hell were you thinking?! You could’ve been killed! “

“You need to go now, okay? Don’t worry. I've got this. They’ll want to be trying a lot harder if they want to keep me from protecting you.“

186 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

I managed to snag one of @savbakk ‘s soft commissions and I’m head over heels in love. Everything about this is perfect. The expressions, the hands, the colors, the mood. Ashley and Thea look so in love and happy which is so important to me. Thank you! 💛

311 notes - Posted April 30, 2022

OTP Relationship Asks

1. Who most initiates PDA?

2. Any sleep habits either had to get used to?

3. Hot and Steamy or Soft and Tender?

4. How did they first meet?

5. What is their love language?

6. When did they realize they loved each other?

7. Who is more sentimental?

8. What’s one way their personalities compliment one another?

9. How are their personalities different?

10. What are some non-sexual activities they do together?

11. Which member is more physically affectionate?

12. Which member is more verbally affectionate?

13. Which member steals borrows the other ones clothing?

14. Are they an introverted couple or an extroverted one—AKA would they prefer to go out to a party or event together or would they rather stay in?

15. Who is more likely to make an impulsive decision and who is the voice of reason?

16. Who stays up way too late and who tries to drag them to bed?

17. Who fell in love first?

18. What song fits them perfectly?

19. How do they deal with being away from each other for a long time?

20. Who holds a grudge the longest?

21. Which of the two is quick to speak and which one is quick to listen?

22. Who gets more easily embarrassed?

23. Who overthinks the most?

24. Which of the two is the most competitive?

25. Who’s the most stubborn?

26. How do they comfort each other?

27. What random everyday object/activity makes them think of each other?

28. Do they get along with each other’s friends and family?

29. What is their sex life like?

See the full post

419 notes - Posted November 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Send me a ✍️ + tell me what you’d like to see me write more of this year.

847 notes - Posted January 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #this is honestly embarrassing #lmao

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