#jealousy fic
Text
Show, Not Tell | Xavier T.
warnings ✩° : semi-nsfw, jealousy, slight possessive behavior, cursing, xavier being protective, hickeys//markings, manhandling, mentions of size difference, non canon character named marlon flirting with you.
pairing ✩° : boyfriend!xavier thorpe x girlfriend!reader
premise ✩° : xavier isn't jealous, not for the most part at least. until he sees how you talk with your classmate and his sparring partner, marlon. did you always smile like that with everyone or was it just marlon? doesn't matter. xavier’s pissed.
word count ✩° : 2.9k
authors note ✩° : guys i am sick. i cannot breathe. i miss the taste of food.
What was it about Marlon Acheron that made it so easy for you to talk to him? Was it the fact he was more popular than Xavier? Or was it his piercing red eyes, shaded with the dark lenses of sunglasses that intrigued you? Maybe it was the hair that was slicked back with a glossy finish from his stupid cinnamon scented hair gel. Or maybe it was all those things combined.
But Xavier is your boyfriend. Not Marlon. He knew his place in your heart, so why was it that every time his eyes scanned the room to find you, Marlon just so happened to catch you first and steal you away from him? Did you always smile like that with everybody or was it just Marlon? Didn’t matter. Xavier’s pissed.
At first, you thought you encouraged him to push though practice and were beyond happy to see him progressing so well. Even his instructor agreed he’s been on top of his practice and would soon topple Bianca for first place in rank. That was until you realized who his sparring partner was.
Marlon Acheron.
Marlon’s your classmate, not necessarily friend nor foe, and certainly not a guy you could call up and spend a few hours with at the Weathervane like any other of your friends. He was just there most of the time, in class and in the halls. But you did notice that he would give you some sort of special treatment.
Marlon’s your classmate, not necessarily friend nor foe, and certainly not a guy you could call up and spend a few hours with at the Weathervane like any other of your friends. He was just there most of the time, in class and in the halls. But you did notice that he would give you some sort of special treatment.
Whether it was saying hi to you first when you entered the training room, striking up some hollow conversation just to stall you from going to see your boyfriend, or accidentally ‘forgetting’ something that he’d ask you to retrieve for him. It was always his glasses so you found it strange that he could forget something so important nearly every other day.
Being the sweetheart you are, you thought there was nothing wrong with how he was acting. Plus, you forget things all the time so it’s not so different with him.
But Xavier is the complete opposite. He knows exactly what Marlon’s intentions are, they're all so obvious to him.
“No one forgets their glasses like he does. Especially not a vampire.” Xavier says when the two of you are alone after his fencing practice, “He asks you to get his shit every day. Can’t he ask someone else, like why does it HAVE to be you?”
“I forget things too, Xavier. I’m sure he’s just got better things to worry about like trying to actually get a chance to beat you when you two go at it. It’s not like they're prescription anyways, he said his eye sight is fine.”
Your boyfriend rolls his eyes and goes back to etching charcoal onto the canvas in front of him. Recently, he’d come to his secret shed with you so you both can have alone time and so that he can draw. He’d never tell you but another reason for these ‘dates,’ as he called them, were partially because of Marlon.
“He doesn't leave you alone, Y/n. It’s like he’s stuck to you like a stupid dog. It doesn’t even make sense because he’s a VAMPIRE.” Xavier exhales sharply, blowing some excess black dust off his work space, “It’s past the point where friends do that. Not even I did that before we got together, which is saying a lot because I was way more obsessed with you before.”
You lean back on the extra stool next to his chair and give him a nonchalant shrug, “Yeah, you’re right. But what’s your deal with him? Why are you so mad whenever we talk to him or when you’re sparring with him during fencing practice? It’s like you’re trying to kill him out there, you could at least give him a break.”
“Give him a break?” Xavier scoffs and turns to face you, “He slacks off every time we practice and when he finally thinks it’s time to actually practice, you walk in like some angel through the doors and suddenly all of his attention is on you.”
You stare at him for a moment, taking a mental note of his tight lipped frown and a glimpse of irritation in his shaking legs, “What do I have to do with any of that? I come to watch you. Your instructor said I should keep coming because you do best when I’m there, so I can’t just stop showing up.”
“Oh come on.” His brows fall flat on his face as he moves his head down just a bit, expressing his disappointment, “Y/n, the guy’s head over heels in love with you. You don’t see anything wrong with the way he acts?” Xavier stabs the end of the pencil back to the paper and aggressively whisks his hand over the art, smudging the side of his hand black.
"I guess it’s weird, but it’s not like he’s outwardly flirting with me. You know? Like I said, he’s probably just forgetful. Extremely...forgetful.” Even you can’t excuse Marlon’s behavior. Your attempt, however, only sours Xavier’s mouth as he shrivels his expression in disgust.
Xavier sticks out his chin, unintentionally showing off his cutting edge jaw to the side, and groans, “Maybe you should stop talking to him. Just ignore him when you come visit. Y/n I am this close to bashing his brains out if he keeps on doing this shit,” he holds up two fingers that are just about to touch, “It pisses me off how he always steals you before I can even say hi. Next thing I know he’s basically on top of you, asking you all these stupid questions like, ‘Y/n what do you think of my uniform?’ ‘Y/n can you feel my helmet to make sure its on right?’ ‘Y/n say épée.’ It’s sad, actually.”
You let out a much needed sigh and slouch down, “I don’t want to stop talking to him, he’s nice. But yeah, I wish there was a way to get him to stop or to show him I’m not interested.”
He thinks for a moment, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, while moving his leg in one place. “I guess...no...” He lets out a quick breath, “What would make Marlon leave you the fuck alone...”
“You know, I’m picking up some jealousy...”
Xavier shoots you a glare, “Yeah, right.” but then suddenly raises his brows, “I think have an idea.”
You watch as he puts up his pencil, postponing his continuation of his sketch, and prop himself up more on the seat. Confused, you massage the side of your neck and glance attentively at his change in posture.
“Sit here.” Xavier grins, tapping his legs, inviting you to take a seat, “If Marlon’s going to act like you don’t have a boyfriend, I’ll just show him who you belong to and why he can’t ever have you."
Body moving on it’s own, you make your way towards him and plant yourself directly on top of his waist, grounding yourself by shifting side to side to find the perfect balance.
“And how are you going to do that?” You’re almost scared to ask, but the look on his face suggests something you don't even expect before it comes out of his own mouth.
“We have to show him you’re mine, not tell him. He won’t get it otherwise.” Xavier looks at you with sly eyes, teeth poking just barley from his lips, “I’m just saying, people like him don’t catch hints too easily. So it’ll be a sort of, slap in the face when he sees his perfect Y/n with hickeys all over her neck and down.”
You quickly open your mouth in surprise, “Oh that’s what we’re doing? I kinda thought you were going to brand me or something.”
“I mean...” Xavier looks to the side and chuckles deeply, “Nah, I’m joking. I do however want to do the whole hickey thing. I think that way he’d get it.” He holds up a finger and touches the front of your neck with the end of his nail, sending shivers all throughout your body as he turns his head to get a full view of his new canvas. “Yeah,” Your boyfriend wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, “That’d work really good actually.”
When you scoot yourself further onto him, you can feel the both of his palms barley cushion the underside of your thighs as a small grin pulls the corner of your lips up. “Really?” You tease, “You sure this has nothing to do with you being jealous?”
“Oh yeah, positive.” Xavier jostles his knee beneath you to scoot you even closer, “You think I’d be threatened by Marlon Acheron of all people? I’m offended, babe.”
You give a small laugh before gently holding the sides of his face and caressing the back of his head, combing your fingers lightly through his long hair, “Yeah? Well you should be. I’m surprised you haven't told him off yet.”
“You see how I spar with him,” Xavier moves his head to the side and kisses your collarbone, “I want to kill him for it, but I figured you wouldn't like that all too much.”
You roll your head to the side, granting him full access to your skin, and smile, “Hard to believe when all you've been doing is just carelessl-ly, trying to cut him.”
As you talked, Xavier wasn't too focused on the words coming out of your mouth. He knew all you were doing was trying to irritate him more so that he could handle you more roughly, but he had a little more class than that. Or so he thought. Truth is, he is better than no man when it comes to you.
Before he knows it, tasting the softness and sweetness of your skin quickly becomes an addiction he isn't quite ready to quit. Everything taste from warm notes of light amber to the freshness of a freshly picked rose, he can’t get nearly as much as he wants from a surface level skin kiss.
So he kisses harder. Licking and sucking down your neck, grazing the tips of his teeth and sharp canines along you as well.
“Wait, X-Xavier—” You groan just barely audible and tug on his locks with an even tighter hold than before.
Too focused on you, he doesn't respond and just continues to thrust his tongue over the gradually building bruises. Even though at this point you begin to move away from him in an attempt to stop him from darkening the marks beyond repair, he pulls you right back into place and moves onto another spot of vulnerable, untainted skin.
“H-Hah...X-Xavier...” A satisfactory moan as well as his name escapes from your throat so you bite your lip to suppress it as best as possible.
There was no thought of sparing you from weird stares you were sure to get from classmates, Xavier just imagined what Marlon would say or what he’d look like if he saw you, his seemingly perfect Y/n with marks made by his sparring partner. Xavier grinned at the thought.
As you manage, unsuccessfully, to keep your back straight and hands from roaming his body, it becomes hard to ignore the fluttery feeling building low in your stomach. His hand placement just over your hips, the way his neediness has somehow manifested it’s way into his mouth, and his panting complete with your own are all telltale signs that if this goes on for longer, you both wouldn’t last.
His tongue rolls harshly over the side of your neck, generously saturating your thin and sensitive skin under his suctioned lips with his saliva. You can’t help but squirm in his tight embrace, his fingers digging so hard into your hips you're convinced that they'll leave a mark as well, trying to hold you down on one place on his thigh.
“Stay still.” You can feel him grunt against your skin, “I’m not done yet.” Though his tone is demanding, you can feel the effects of his desperation ricocheting against his teeth. Or rather, his tongue, judging by his heavy breathing and increasingly deeper and longer licks he does.
“H-How many more?” The question comes out in a fleeting pant, trying to catch your breath, “How much are you going to d-do?” It was already impossible to stay put, you don't know how much more you can take if he keeps it up at this pace.
“Enough so Marlon can lay off.” With that, Xavier roughly squeezes your waist and lifts you up enough so that you're higher up on his thigh now, both your legs locked in between his own kneecaps. For a brief moment, you're met with the chill breeze of the airy shed hitting your wet skin, but it doesn't last long as Xavier pushes himself right back to his original position, earning himself a surprised gasp from you.
With his lips properly latched onto your jugular, he continues at an even deeper force and runs the tip of his tongue back over the already sensitive areas he’d previously marked. His extra bit of attention sends your mind spiraling. Of course, hes not fair either and only applies a bit of pressure from just the tip of his tongue.
“Xavi-ier...don’t make them so dark...” You gasp out, “I still have classes to go to, remember?”
“So?” His breath fans against your damp skin, “What if I want everyone to see?” He bites harder and laps up the remainder your scent off of you, messily bruising you more so that blooms of his intimacy can be seen miles away.
Your face flushes, “A-Are you almost done?”
“Almost.”
When he finally plucks his mouth from your neck, making a quick ‘pop’ sound before wiping his sleeve over his darkened lips, he pulls away and just stares. Just by looking at him, you can tell he’s proud of his work. Not the actual work he was supposed to finish, but the dark splotches of red and purple that littered all from the start of your jaw, down to just above the start of your chest. They're like trophies to him.
Most of all, he’s proud of just how worked up he somehow managed to get you. Just by the sight of you, your heavily blushed face, glossy and squinted eyes, and parted lips due to excessive hard breathing made him want to mark you more, in other places. But the ones on your neck would have to suffice, even if hidden ones only he could see would excite him more than the ones he could show off to some insignificant person.
Before you could even utter a breath of relief, a smirk slowly appears on your boyfriends face, only making you more nervous, “That should do it,” Xavier says, “How do you feel?”
“Like my entire neck is purple.” You laugh, pushing up the hair that had fallen over his face.
He chuckles, shaking his head, “Unfortunately, it’s not. But I can do that if that’s what you want?”
You grab his face again and mash your lips together with his, “Nice thought, Xavier, but I think this is plenty.”
He hugs you tighter, “Whatever you say. We should uh, we should go show him, shouldn’t we?”
You grin, “Maybe later, I still have to tell you what Marlon said to me yesterday.”
Walking into the next practice of the fencing team, you strut down the well lit hall with your neck not nearly hidden as you’d hoped. Since everyone knew you were bound to show up sooner or later, no one really paid any mind to you walking in. Thankfully.
But Marlon and Xavier did.
When you look past Marlon and straight at Xavier, you can feel his eyes on you. This time, they weren't on your face or on your skirt like usual, instead they were plastered onto your neck and all of the hickeys that had remained just as dark as Xavier made them to be yesterday.
You can hear a small scoff from behind you, so you turn around and see Marlon standing, waiting for you to have some sort of explanation for the mockery of his affection.
“Y/n.” He holds his helmet between his arm and lodged against his hip, “Good to see you.”
Xavier watches as you walk up to Marlon, this time feeling more confident than ever. “Hey Marlon,” You smile, as per usual, “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Question, did you get beaten up by someone?” Marlon points at your neck.
“Oh no, no my boyfriend kinda...” Your voice trails slowly, searching for the much needed reaction for both you and Xavier, “...yeah...”
Marlon nods slowly, tucking his lips under each other and furrowing his brow, “Right. I just thought you know, you getting my glasses all the time and us having a ton of inside jokes, that we had something.” The vampire spits, “I guess not.”
“You know it’s really funny you say that, Marlon, because actually,” Suddenly, Xavier appears next to you and throws his arm over your shoulders, “We are most definitely a ‘thing’. Didn’t know if that really clicked in your head but,” Xavier points to his head, “We are.”
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Hello ! Sorry for my bad English, it's not my first language I do my best
First of all, I love how you write <3
Second, my request would be Hiccup getting jealous and confessing to fem!reader by accident
That's all !
Thanks for writing so well, I send you a little kiss
Hello!
Congrats you’re my first request!
I hope I could do your request justice, enjoy
Just Talk To Me!
Hiccup x Reader
Word Count: 2.8k words
Summary: You and Eret have gotten pretty close due to your constant fighting practice. Of course, a certain chief isn’t too happy about it but he has a bit of trouble trying to tell you why.
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“You’re getting better at this!” Eret praised, ducking under your fist as you swung at him. He continued to dodge your strikes as you smiled.
You both had begun sparring together a few months ago, after the whole Dragon War fiasco. You realized that without your dragon, you weren’t as strong or as agile as the other Vikings, so you asked Eret to help you train.
You swept your foot under him, finally taking him down and putting your foot on his chest, signifying that you had one the fight.
“Have I gotten better, or have you just gotten worse?” You asked teasingly, taking your foot off of him as he smiled up at you.
You held out your hand to help him up. He obliged, taking it as he stood up once again, wiping off his clothes from that dust that truly didn’t even seem to be there.
“You’ve certainly made improvements since day one. I can tell you that.” He said, stretching a bit. “You could definitely do well even without your dragon, if you’d ever need to.” He continued, looking back at both of your dragons who were simply chilling off to the side, as they often did when you two fought.
“Hopefully there never comes a time.” You said in a lighthearted tone, but you truly hoped there would never be a time where you’d have to fair without your dragon.
“I second that. It’s funny, I never thought I’d ever change my ways when it came to dragons. Yet here I am, looking after this beast.” Eret joked, patting Skull Crushers head lightly causing the dragon to groan and slightly shake its head in response.
“Well I’m glad you had it in you to change, who knows maybe I would’ve taken you down myself.” You gloated sarcastically, walking towards the pair as Eret smiled back at you, acknowledging your joke.
“Yeah you wouldn’t have made it even close.” He let out a chuckle as he watched your teasing smirk turn to a pout. You knew his teasing was all in good fun but realistically if it had come to it you would’ve taken him out if you needed to.
“Just cause I’ve gotten better doesn’t mean I wasn’t skilled to begin with.” You reminded.
“Fair. Now how about best two out of three?” Eret asked, getting into a fighting stance which you very quickly mimicked. Just as you both were about to start fighting you had heard a very familiar growl come from above. Your head shot up towards the noise and you spotted none other than Hiccup Haddock, the chief of Berk, flying above you.
“Guess not.” You joked, no longer standing in a ready position as you turned to face the aforementioned chief who had landed not too far away from the both of you. Hiccup hopped off of Toothless with ease, slipping his helmet off in the process, and walked over to the two of you with Toothless close behind.
“Morning you two.” Hiccup greated, earning a nod of acknowledgement from the both of you. “What are you guys doing all the way out here?” He asked but you noticed it wasn’t in the sense of his usual curiosity. There was an underlying tone that you could quite put your finger on so you figured you were just simply thinking too much into it.
You hadn’t really thought about it but you suppose you and Eret were more or less in the middle of nowhere in the woods. It was the most quiet place the two of you could find to practice in peace without going to the Arena.
“Eret and I have been sparring, I figured I should eventually learn how, considering most of my strength comes from them.” You said, gesturing to your dragon who was sleeping peacefully only to be startled awake by Toothless patting them on the head. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, Toothless always reminded you of a cat in a way, you found it adorable.
“Alone?” Hiccup asked, which honestly surprised the both of you. You looked towards hiccup in confusion only to see the shock he had on his own face. Clearly he didn’t mean to let it slip out but it was too late to take it back now.
“Well no… our dragons are here with us?” You stated but you were so confused about the reasoning behind Hiccups question that you couldn’t seem to phrase it as anything other than a question. You all fell silent as Hiccup swayed his arms in an awkward fashion, something he only does when he’s trying to avoid talking about something.
Eret looked between the two of you, realizing he had no part in the conversation he simply cleared his throat.
“I’ll just leave you two be, I have some… things to take care of..” He excused himself, quickly hopping onto Skullcrusher and exiting the awkward situation as quickly as possible. Once Eret had flown away you quickly turned back to Hiccup who was clearly avoiding even looking in your general direction.
“Spill it.” You said bluntly causing Hiccup to finally make eye contact with you. His face held a confused look but you both knew what you were talking about.
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” Hiccup said, again clearly avoiding the topic as he walked over to Toothless. “Have you seen the new addition I added to Toothless’s tail?” It was clear he was trying to think of anything to change the subject because obviously there was nothing different about Toothless’s tail and you both knew that.
You crossed your arms as you stared at the brunette before you, your face holding an expression that clearly said ‘seriously?’. He dropped Toothless’s tail with a sigh before getting up and walking towards you. Silence quickly swept over the two of you as you continued to wait for Hiccup to say something. You raised an eyebrow at him before he blurted out,
“Have you seen the new scale armor?”, giving one more quick shot to derail the conversation.
“Hiccup.” You said quite sternly. “Spill it.” You repeated, your arms still crossed over your chest as you watched the man nervously fidget. He may be the chief but he still held some of his nervous quirks. Sure he had the ability to look powerful and calm when his people needed their chief, but when he wasn’t the ‘Chief of Berk’ he was just Hiccup.
Just Hiccup.
And you’d be damned if you said you didn’t love him. Ever since you met hiccup you knew he always tried to meet everyone’s expectations only to have a long history of falling short. Hiccup as he was was always overlooked, everyone looked to him to be ‘the Chiefs son’ the ‘next chief of Berk’ and the one he really struggled with, was ‘Stoick’s son’. No one ever truly looked at him as just Hiccup.
Well everyone except you.
You liked him from the very beginning when he was just a scrawny boy obsessed with earning his fathers approval. Did you have the courage to say anything about the way you felt? No of course not, why would you? As much as you loved to see him as ‘Just Hiccup’ you couldn’t deny the fact that he was still pretty far out of your league, especially given his title of ‘The Dragon Master’. What title did you have? Nothing.
Well you had the title of being one of his closest friends so you stuck with that as being enough for you.
“I just don’t think you and Eret should be so far away while training.” He finally spoke up. It was clear he was still keeping something from you but at least he gave you something to work with.
“Why?” You asked, trying to nudge more out of him. He put his hands on his hips. As he began to pace slowly in a circle.
“I don’t know, I just think it would be safer if you-“ Hiccup began only for you to cut him off.
“Hiccup we have two dragons here, one of them being Skull Crusher. I’d say it’s pretty safe to say nothings going to attack us out here.” You argued, now mimicking his pose with your hands on your hips.
“Well still I just don’t like the idea of you guys being alone.” He said, looking up at you. You rolled your eyes in response,
“Hiccup I already said, we’re here with the dragons. We’re not alone.” You stated as if it wasn’t getting through his head. It hadn’t even occurred to you that he was trying to hint at a different concern and you were missing the point entirely.
Your response only caused Hiccup to groan as his hand shot up to his face. He dragged his hands down his face as he turned around, now facing Toothless who simply looked at his friend in utter confusion. The dragon looked from you, then to Hiccup, then back to you. You simply shook your head with a shrug of your shoulders before Toothless walked away, deeming him your problem.
“Hiccup I don't understand why this is such a big issue to you, we used to be in the woods alone all the time together. You didn’t seem to have a problem with it then.” You stated quite bluntly.
“That was different!” He shouted. His face had ever so slightly turned the faintest hint of red, but it was still enough for you to notice. He seemed almost exasperated as you continued to swim around the very vague point that he was failing to get at.
“How was it any different than what me and Eret are doing? If anything it’s safer now because we’re both adults. Granted we did have a Night Fury with us back then…” You began to mumble to yourself, accidentally going off topic. Hiccup sighed, walking up to you and grabbing you by your shoulders. He was stern but still managed to be gentle as he forced you to look at him.
“I can’t control what you do or who you spend your time with, but I just don’t like that you and Eret spend so much time together, so far outside of the village, alone…” Hiccup said, practically laying it all out for you.
“Hiccup?”
“Yeah?”
“We’re not alone.”
Hiccup merely stared at you, eyes wide in shock as he tried to calculate your intelligence in that split second. He practically spelled it out for you and you still weren’t getting it.
What hadn’t occurred to him however, was that you had already caught on, you were just trying to get him to admit it himself. Granted, you had just caught on maybe seconds before, but you still thought it might be fun to mess with him a little. Besides, who were you to make the assumption that the Chief of Berk himself was jealous that you were spending time with another man. It could be considered a reach… Unless he just said it himself.
“Why don’t you want me to be alone with him so badly?” You asked, figuring you should try and at least break the loop that you two seemed to be stuck in.
“Because…” Hiccup began, trying to think of a way to phrase what he wanted to say. You waited patiently, just looking at him and occasionally switching your gaze over to the dragons who were chasing each other around.
“Because?” You repeated, waiting for his response. His green eyes staring back into yours. They looked almost as if they were trembling as they bounced between the features on your face.
“Why is it so hard to talk to you?” He shouted abruptly, quickly letting go of your shoulders and flung his arms into the air with an exasperated groan.
“If it was easier for you to tell me about the dragon you were keeping hidden from a village filled with bloodthirsty, war hungry Vikings, I’ m almost afraid of whatever this could possibly be.” You joked, trying to lighten his mood.
“It’s not the same thing.” He muttered in response as you laughed.
“How could anything you have to tell me be worse than that?” Hiccup sighed in response as he went back to pacing. Clearly it was his way of thinking about what to do next. It wasn’t a trait he often exhibited but you knew once he started pacing, whatever he was thinking about was pretty serious.
“It’s not about what I have to tell you, it’s about your response.” He finally said, you rolled your eyes lightheartedly. You’ve known this man for years, and in those years you’ve learned countless embarrassing facts about him that he had less of a problem about you knowing than ‘whatever he had to tell you’.
“What does my response have to do with anything? Hiccup, anything you have to tell me won't change anything.” You stated with a laugh as you tried to comfort him. You almost started to second guess what you thought he was going to tell you. If he was truly this worried about what he was going to say maybe it was actually a very serious matter?
“Ha, yeah you say that now.” He laughed sarcastically, quickly looking up at you before returning to his pacing.
“Hiccup, I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
If there’s one thing about Hiccup it was his stubbornness. Anyone would just shrug that off as a Viking thing but you knew if anything, it came from his father. As much as Hiccup would deny being able to compare to his father, he shared many similar traits with him. You knew it, his mother knew it, even Gobber knew it, but he frequently denied it.
Stubborn.
“Why are you so concerned about me and Eret in the first place?” You decided to bring up the last topic, because if he wasn’t going to get to the point, you were.
“Because…” He muttered quietly in response as if he was holding something back.
“Because what hiccup? Seriously, I know you have an issue with communication sometimes but you can't just keep dancing around the issue here-“ You rambled a bit but before you could continue, Hiccup interrupted you.
“Because I have feelings for you!” He blurted out suddenly.
You both froze. He turned away from you as you simply stared at him. He finally said it, he actually really said it.
“Hiccup…” You muttered quietly.
He didn’t move. He didn’t want to move. The last thing he wanted right now was to turn around and have to face the potential of rejection.
“Hiccup.” You called out again, walking towards him and lightly placing your hand on his shoulder. He finally turned towards you slightly, but he still refused to face you all the way. “You’re serious?” You asked, to which he simply looked at you with confusion.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“At least one of us finally admitted to it.” You joked. For some reason Hiccup had registered that you were making a joke, but not necessarily what you were joking about.
“Yeah okay, go on, laugh it out- wait.” Hiccup quickly turned back to you. You nodded with a smile, confirming his suspicion as he clearly thought he had misheard you.
“Wait but- for how long?” He asked excitedly, almost as if he didn’t believe you. “Oh this is great! I thought you were going to hate me for even saying anything about it, but you’re not! You feel the same-“ He cheered, slightly beginning to ramble as all of his previous anxiety seemed to just melt away.
You smiled as you watched him celebrate before quickly planting a quick kiss on his cheek.
The man froze before you, clearly not expecting even such a small act of affection. You never knew him to be entirely bold, you always saw him as a very awkward man, but you watched as the awkwardness practically jumped out a window for a split second or so as Hiccup grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him.
He was the last person you’d expect such a smooth act to come from, and honestly you didn’t mind it. His eyes drifted from yours to your lips in a matter of seconds as if he was silently asking for your approval, to which you nodded.
Before you knew it you were kissing the literal man of your dreams.
It was wonderful.
It was a very soft kiss, the perfect kind to be shared for the first time.
Once you pulled away you looked to hiccup before dramatically gasping.
“What? What is it?” Hiccup asked, panicking that he had done something wrong.
“Does that mean… you were jealous of Eret?” You asked with a joking smile.
“Oh come on- really?” Hiccup said, jokingly pushing you away with a laugh.
Safe to say you never let him live this moment down, and much to his dismay you had excitedly told your friends about it not too long after.
#httyd#httyd fanfiction#x reader#httyd fandom#hiccup#hiccup and toothless#hiccup haddock#httyd x reader#httyd fanfics#httyd hiccup#httyd 3#httyd 2#x gn reader#jealousy#jealousy fic#fun times for all#hiccup haddock x reader#hiccup x reader#hiccuphorrendoushaddockiii#hiccup how to train your dragon#httyd eret#eret son of eret#eret
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Jesse Pinkman Being Jealous Would Include...
Request: omg so glad you’re writing for breaking bad rn cause i literally just started watching it and i’m obsessed 😭 could you do jealous jesse pinkman please? (hcs or a fic whatever you want)
Oh my gosh yay I'm really glad you started watching it!! If you haven't already you 100% have to watch Better Call Saul afterwards it's one of my favourite shows of all time! :)
Warning: spoilers for later seasons of the show! Mentions of drugs, mentions of drinking/alcohol, mentions of burn injuries, light swearing, mentions of trauma!
(I do not own Breaking Bad or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @tilldeathdousart.)
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
Baby boy, baby boy. meow meow cat man. its so hard writing you as jealous because i feel if anyone started flirting with your s/o you would just break down crying and honestly same we love an in touch with his emotions king loml honestly
Jesse has always been the jealous type. Hot headed. Easily wound up by bullies ten times his size and a thousand times more ferocious and cutthroat than he had ever tried to be. Almost as easily as he had slipped into that easy routine of being ass over heels, devastatingly in love with you. The kind where every night, he tosses and turns in his mildew spelling bed, plagued by thoughts of doing nothing all day but sloppily kissing your lips between blunts. The kind where he has to stare up at the sky after he's been caught staring, until his retinas burn the sunlight into the back of his skull, yet the pain is nowhere near as cataclysmic as the hurricane your smile brings to his heart.
He had far too many years to temper it, to try and smother his love, and yet over time he seemed to get worse and worse and worse at stopping it from choking at his throat. He wasn't so bad during high school: sure, you found him a little odd, the way he would brag to his friends in the corridor about how he'd never 'studied a day in my life, man!', and yet in Chemistry he would be chewing the edge of his pen and scribbling furiously down on his paper during the end of term quiz.
He was terrible at tempering it, and you were terrible at seeing it.
Little did you know, that all the words he scratched down with his shaking hand were either complete guesses, or absolute gibberish. He had no idea what the paper was even supposed to be on, but you were sitting beside him, and so he wanted to look as smart in front of you as he possibly could. Bless his heart, to everyone else he was so obvious: Mr White would just peer over his shoulder and shake his head, his mouth in a lined frown as he watched Jesse peer like a meerkat over the side of the desk to stare at you from behind his slipping down beanie.
Some of his friends, his 'gang' as he liked to call them, were snickering from a couple of benches behind at the way he was trying to look clever by placing his fist under his chin, but his elbow kept slipping off the edge thanks to his baggy hoody. Even Justin Treller, the guy sitting to your right, and the kid Jesse was getting more and more annoyed with every time he leant over to whisper something in your ear, was evidently enjoying the way the tips of Jesse's ears were beginning to burn with embarrassment.
Eventually, when you began giggling at the things Justin was leering further and further towards you to murmur, Jesse began to snap. That's when he began doing stupid shit to make you laugh, like plugging the tube in and flicking his hand through the Bunsen Burner flame to try and impress you with his pain tolerance. When Jesse inevitably ended up being sent to the nurse's office for such a dumbass idea, he was wincing so harshly at the pain that he nearly tore through his bottom lip, leaving a nice scar. You volunteered to bring him down, spending half of your lunch period taking care of him.
He sat caved in on himself, trying to make himself as small a target as possible on one of the fold out chairs. He was obviously embarrassed, by the way his voice kept cracking each time you tightened some of the new dressing over his fingers. Mainly he was talking to try and distract you from the way his hands were shaking, so desperate to reach out and brush over your cheek that he nearly sobs with the effort. He also doesn't want you to notice how pathetic he looks: how he so subconsciously prepares himself for the mental barrage from his mother, or the physical threats from the people he deals with out in the streets, that he looks like a meek kitten sitting there with his palms down on his knobbly kneecaps.
He had known then, of course. He had known, as you pressed your lips chastely against the back of his sore knuckles, and giggled at the way his cheeks immediately flushed like a blooming snapdragon, that you would always be the love of his life. The only thing, behind the emotional neglect, the gossip, the drugs, the constant damn pressure, that he truly had chosen to care about. Which is why, after he bought his parents house and asked if you'd want to live in it, free of rent, he was shocked that you said yes.
Good things don't usually happen to this boy. And seeing how you were the best of all, he had to swallow his heart and just smile at your words, terrified he was going to ruin you.
I mean, living there at first had been easy enough. You had been round (or smuggled in by Jesse) so many times since that day in the nurse's office, that it felt like a second home to you. His parents, while they had still been speaking to Jesse, had absolutely adored you. They would always be teasing their son during family dinners about how he had been saving up doing his *wink wink* 'paper rounds' late at night, just so he could save up for the big wedding he was planning. Blushing ferociously, Jesse would duck his head down until his forehead banged against the tablecloth, begging his mom with that tired drawl to 'please... just stop'.
Somehow, somehow you just... never saw it. Perhaps you were laughing too much at the way Jesse's father was pretending to elbow his son to notice. Maybe, you were trying to cover your own eyes in mortification. I'm not sure, but I do know that you never seemed to notice the gut-wrenching look of pure hope Jesse would throw your way, once he had mustered the strength to peek his head up again.
While he shook his head and bit at the corner of his fingernail, while he poked and prodded at his escaping garden peas, while he took an awkward sip of his water and pretended to glance around the table. He was always looking your way, as if you had tied his heart to a string, his compass pointing him north, directing him back to his true home. His eyes would just linger on you like a listless man possessed from between the prongs of his fork, stabbing harshly at the plate in time with his thudding heart.
His heart sure was beating now. So ferociously, he thought it was about to splinter and explode out of his chest, implanting the chards everywhere until they were all that was left in memory of him. He knew you were getting sick of the constant parties. Of him being dazed 24/7. Of not knowing why he lashed out all the time. He knew it wasn't fair, but every time he closed his eyes he just saw Gale's pleading eyes beginning to burn itself into the safe memories he kept in the back of his head. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't breathe from all the sobbing. He couldn't even think in peace. So he just bit the cap off another beer bottle and fell down heavily on the edge of his brand new thousand dollar sofa, imprisoning himself in self-isolation despite being lost amidst a sea of people.
It was right at that moment you decided to try and brave down the stairs, having to hold onto the bannister for dear life as you jumped down each step, the bass vibrating through the walls until they shook. As you peered over mountains of baggie hoodies and tripped over lumps of passed out people on the floor in your effort to try and find Jesse, you accidentally bumped into the back of one of Skinny Pete's friends. You apologised as he turned around, which would have been fine if he hadn't taken one look at you and decided you were his main entertainment for the night. The smell of stale weed and lukewarm beer radiated off his sour breath as he leant down to rasp against the shell of your ear, sending a chill rolling down your back. You tried to compress your shoulders and squeeze past him, but the guy would not stop trying to grab onto your waist and pull you back, staring very blatantly down at your chest.
You knew Jesse had been shoved into the deep end of some shady business recently, but the way he had been acting over the last while had been frightening you. So despondent. So careless. To come home every day and find him almost completely blazed out of his mind on the floor, seemingly not recognising you as he failed to respond to your greeting. Not realising that as soon as you wandered into the kitchen to put the groceries away, those desperate, love strung eyes were following your heels. He nearly cried out for you, voice hoarse and heavy in the back of his throat.
If he had mustered the energy, he would have gotten onto his hands and knees and crawled like a baby on the floor to follow after you. The way you would beg him at 2 a.m. to turn down the music, and he would just grab at your hands and try to get you to join in his terrible on the spot jump-dancing. You never discerned how heartbroken he seemed to be when you jolted back from him as if shot; his bottom lip would quiver and he would sink to his knees when your bedroom door finally slammed shut.
He couldn't take it. He couldn't take it anymore. First it had been his parents. Then the drugs. Then Mr. White, Gus, Gale, Mike, Saul, the pressure just kept building up and up and up and he didn't know how to escape it. Too cowardly to run away, just as he had always been resigned into believing you could never love him back. Too submissive. Too easily used. And now, now there was barely anything left of him. Sometimes, sometimes that scared kid would try to crawl out of his throat when he was alone at night, but he would just choke on his tears in the darkness until he had drowned him again.
So what does he do? Gets off his face drunk, and throws another mind numbingly monotonous party until the walls start spinning and he doesn't even know who's coming through those doors anymore. Hell, he still half expects his mother to come busting through, chiding him for having drugs in the house. For having you in the house, with such company present. For being a coward.
Now he had just brought more trouble on himself. If the company he now decided to keep didn't get his hands off you in approximately ten seconds, you were going to knock him on his ass in front of all his little buddies.
Thankfully, Jesse seemed to have a sixth sense as to when you were in trouble, and he had been steadily keeping his beady eyes on you ever since you reached the top step. Before you could shove the guy back, Jesse's already doing it for you. As soon as he’s by your side you can tell he’s wound up: not by the way he comes striding over, shouting over the beat and lowering his head as if he’s about to headbutt the guy. Not from the way his hand flies in his face, or the swears, the long string of increasingly ridiculous ‘bitch’ related insults he calls him, but from the way he looks so, so tired. He looks on the verge of tears, his eyes bloodshot as he brushes gently past you to start shoving the guy out the front door, yelling above the music to shepherd everyone else out as well.
'Jesse... seriously, you need to tell me what's going on, right now.'
When the door finally slams shut, you know him well enough that the best thing to do is just let his head cool down for a minute. When he was younger, that used to involve ringing you up whenever his parents had threatened to kick him out again; you would come clambering over the picket fencing lining his immaculately manicured side-yard to see him sitting on the edge of his windowsill, smoke rings blowing out the side of his mouth as he waited in the dark for you to arrive. His hand would shake as he hefted you up from the piping by his bedroom wall, awkwardly landing you down half on his feet as he would just stay beside you all night. He would speak from time to time, asking you about what you wanted to do once you managed to escape from this dump ass town. But mainly, he just leaned his head back and listened to your voice, gazing up at the faraway stars as if it were the only place he could possibly be truly free.
But now, he was far worse off than you ever could have imagined. He hunched over, as if he had a spiked collar weighted around his neck as he lumbered past you, crawling down onto the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest as he sat back against his brand new surround sound speaker, ducking his head into the gap and clawing at the back of his neck until you worried he was about to draw blood.
It was horrifying, hearing how he gasped between retching sobs as you sunk down on the floor next to him.
You tentatively reached out to place a hand on his back, kicking an empty pizza box out of the way with your foot so you could sit with the side of your thigh touching his. As soon as you made contact, he leapt at you like a rabid dog, clawing and clenching and biting his teeth into his shirt as he fell onto your chest.
‘Please. Please don’t leave me’, he gasped out between heaving cries, looking up at you with eyes so dejected, it were as if someone had stifled out the blinding stars once in them with dark clouds. Bits of saliva stuck between his teeth as he screwed his eyes shut once again and began bawling even harder, falling like a broken bird as you held the back of his head and guided it down to rest just above your breast bone.
‘I love you’, he starts sobbing, fists bunching up the material at the back of your shirt. It was you. It always has been. And if you walked out that door with the rest of them, he had nothing left. He would willingly roll over, and let himself just rot away.
You sure as hell saw it now.
Eventually, after you rock him back and forth against the floorboards for a while and just cradle him in a way he’s never experienced during his years on earth, he becomes more placid against you. It helps that at some point, you had absentmindedly begun to trace the silvery wisp of an outline that had been left on his bottom lip all those years ago, your pointer finger glancing back and forth as it quivered. He was almost entirely curled against you now, pretending to be asleep so you wouldn’t stop, but his breath froze when he heard you whisper ‘I love you too’ against the top of his hair.
He’ll feel really sheepish the next day when he finally wakes up, peering round the corner with his hand behind his head when he spots you trying to straighten out the crick in your neck after a night spent on the floor. He’ll come apologizing with his go to breakfast: a childhood favourite of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup; they were the kind his mom would make if she were in a good mood at the weekends. When he would sit at the table the morning after you slept over, watching stupid cartoons his brother had put on the small television, grinning to himself as some dripped down his chin. It had been the happiest he had been in his life.
Although he still has that boyish, soulful smile on his face as he sits criss-cross down beside you, you can tell that he’s still plagued by how wet his eyes are: how heavily he’s blinking.
‘I really do love you, you know that right?’, you whisper, taking the plate from him.
‘Yeah, I do.’
Suddenly your fork goes crashing to the floor, forgotten about as you lean forward to kiss him, nearly surprising the heck out of him as his teeth clash against yours. He’s quick to reach up and tenderly, oh god, so gently cradle the side of your cheeks, but that’s soon abandoned as he readily allows you to guide him until his back is against the floorboards. You clamber over until you’re almost straddling him, beginning to smile yourself as you feel him grin against your top lip, the soft peals of his giggles breaking out against the surface of your tongue as you dip down against him.
And suddenly, his life seemed like it was worth fighting for again. He was going to get out of this. He was going to escape. He was going to win. Not for himself, but for you.
#breaking bad#jesse pinkman#jesse pinkman imagine#jesse pinkman x reader#jesse pinkman headcanons#breaking bad imagine#aaron paul#skinny pete#badger#walter white#gus fring#saul goodman#jesse breaking bad#jesse breaking bad imagine#jealousy fic#x reader#breaking bad fanfic#breaking bad fanfiction
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I petition for a jealous samwise gamgee x reader fic. I've requested this before but I don't know what happened to it. I love you and your work sincerely hope a fun time writing for you. Goodluck godbless
A/N: Hello lovely, you are absolutely right that you requested this quite some time ago. I lost it in the shuffle of things (rip my accidentally deleted wip list) and it completely slipped my mind! I hope you will forgive me, and enjoy :)
Word Count: 2255
Rating: G - flirting, jealousy, alcohol
Samwise Gamgee was the sort to drive girls mad. He was sweet, in a bumbling sort of way, always ready with a shy smile or a stumbled verse, and gentle, and steady. He knew the value of an honest day's work, and he was always there to support his friends, figuratively or, after a long night at the Green Dragon, literally, making sure they made it safely to bed and had water and a soothing herbal tea ready when they woke with a horrible hangover.
Though you weren't as close with him as Master Frodo Baggins (no one in all the Shire was) you were lucky enough to count yourself among Sam's dearest friends, and had been all your life on account of your father's sister being thick as thieves with the Gaffer's late wife, Sam's dear mother. And you would be lying if you said your heart didn't flutter like a dove when his soft blue eyes turned on you, not staring exactly but making it clear that he was listening with undivided attention. But you knew his own lay with pretty, sweet, golden-curled Rosie Cotton, another one of your dear friends, and never desired to interfere, placing both their happiness above your own.
~
You giggled, bringing a hand to your mouth to hide your smile as a younger Bracegirdles — of Hardbottle, as opposed to some lesser Bracegirdle cousin that might be out there in theory somewhere — whispered a joke into your ear, ostensibly in order to be heard over the noise of the crowd’s singing and the band in the corner, but you were pretty sure it was in part to try to make you blush. They had been rather attentive to you in the past few weeks, and though you had no real interest in courting them, you welcomed the attention, it was nice to feel wanted after all.
Even if, you thought bitterly, it wasn’t by the person you would have hoped. Your eyes fell to him in the crowd, sitting in a corner and nursing a drink while Frodo and his cousin Pippin Took and their friend Merry all swayed and sang along to the music, cajoling Sam to join in. He looked miserable, frowning at his drink as if he thought to find the Gaffer’s fertilizer floating in it, and your heart ached to go to him and try to put a smile on his face. But you were not Rosie, who wasn’t working tonight (which you were sure was the cause of his obvious foul mood), so you stood no more chance than the lads did.
When your proffered paramour suggested they go to get you a second ale, you heartily agreed, despite having not finished the first, if only to get a moment’s peace from their attentions. You couldn’t help a sigh of relief as they swaggered off, which quickly turned to a gasp of surprise when a new hobbit appeared at your elbow.
“Oh! Sam!” you said, reflexively pressing a hand to your chest as if to hold in your racing heart, “I didn’t see you there.”
“You and Leopold are looking awfully chummy,” he said glumly in place of a greeting.
You frowned, eyebrows dipping low. You hadn’t even remembered his first name until that moment. But he was right that you had been taking the affection where you could, even if it really meant nothing to you and you wouldn’t think on it again once you were home safely in your family’s hobbit hole for the night, and you worried for a moment that you might be giving the wrong idea.
“He’s quite nice, for a Bracegirdle,” you shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “There’s nothing wrong with getting to know him better, is there?”
“Getting to know him better?” Sam scoffed, sounding almost angry with the prospect, and making your puzzled feeling sink further in. “The way he was hanging on you, have you set a wedding date yet?”
“Excuse me?” Now you were getting upset, and set your drink down heavily on the table so that you could turn to Sam more fully, hands planted on your hips.
“I’m just saying, as it were, that you were a lot more chummy with him than most people.” Even in the smoky taproom you could tell that his cheeks were reddening and he stumbled over his words. “It was practically flirting. Ain’t nothing wrong with it, but that it’s fast. I’ve never seen you talking to him before, and…and…” he trailed off.
“And what, Sam?” you demanded, feeling your own anger and embarrassment heating at the back of your neck. “You’re not my father, and it’s hardly any of your business who I might be talking to, especially when your attention is so focused elsewhere. How do you know it’s my first time talking to Leonard, when you’re always distracted moon-eying after Rosie?”
“Leopold,” the hobbit in question said suddenly, stepping between you and Sam to place the drinks on the table, and then withdrawing, a dejected expression marring his features that had been so lively earlier. You knew you should feel guiltier, but you were distracted by your own indignation, and the strange way that Sam was looking at you.
“I…” Sam stared open-mouthed at you for a moment longer before turning and fleeing, back to the safety of his friends in the corner and leaving you alone and humiliated.
With a groan and a roll of your eyes, you drained your first tankard and left the second on the table, walking out of the Green Dragon in the hopes that the cool evening would soothe your temper.
~
You didn’t see Sam for several days after that, though you did occasionally catch glimpses of Merry and Pippin, usually looking over at you and then ducking their heads together conspiratorially and giggling. It felt odd, being in this unspoken fight with your best friend, but your pride stopped you from being the first to apologize. After all, you hadn’t done anything wrong but try to move on from the unrequited love you felt for him.
As the sun began to set and the spring evening air grew chilly, you set down your sewing and sighed, placing your face in your hands to scrub away the tiredness. Soon you would have to move inside and light a candle if you were going to continue working, and the prospect felt miserable, another night spent alone.
Suddenly, you felt your basket snatched away from where it sat by your feet, and looked up just in time to see someone — you didn’t want to accuse or assume, but at least one of them was finely dressed for being a hobbit, and his dark hair was wild in a way that only Frodo’s could be described as — disappear around the corner of the lane with your things. With a cry of outrage and surprise, you stood quickly, gathering your skirts at your hip, not caring that your bloomers showed since there was no one around, and chased after them.
The lanes were empty and it shocked you how refreshing it felt to simply race along them, the cool evening air kissing your cheeks and toying with your hair. Your eyes didn’t ache from squinting at stitches, your hands didn’t ache from where the needle slipped, and most importantly, your heart didn’t ache for all the love you thought you lost.
And then the ache you felt was much more real as you crashed headlong into someone else.
“Woah, careful,” he said, placing his hands on your shoulders to steady you, and unintentionally drawing your faces close. “Are you alright?”
Your cheeks heated rapidly as you stared into those concerned blue eyes, and words failed you for a moment.
“Oh, hi Sam. Sorry. I was just–” you realized that you were still holding your skirts, bloomers exposed for all the world, and more importantly him, to see. Your face felt like it was on fire as you dropped the gathered cloth and stumbled back to smooth it down, the motion catching his attention and causing his ears and cheeks to turn pink.
“What’s got you in such a hurry?” he smiled shyly at you, though the rest of his face remained puzzled and you had to fight back a laugh at his endearing expression.
“Someone thought tonight was a good night for pranks, so I’m trying to get my sewing back. I didn’t mean to bump into you…”
“Oh, how odd. My gardening gloves also grew legs. But I figured they’d get bored eventually. Yours went a bit farther though, I don’t blame you for running.”
As you spoke, you heard giggling from around the corner that confirmed your earlier suspicions of the three culprits. But instead of being angry, you couldn’t help being grateful. This conversation, stilted though it was, felt so much better than the days of silence, enough that you were ready to swallow your pride to make sure it continued.
“Listen, Sam,” you found yourself unable to look at him, instead studying the rocks on the path between you while you spoke. “About the other day…”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he assured you, looking sheepish. “I shouldn’t have gotten so mad…”
“Why…why did you?” your voice was soft, hesitant.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No.” Your heart raced like a bird beating against your chest, trying to escape your ribcage. You knew what you wanted the answer to be, but it almost felt like too much to hope.
“I…well I was jealous…of Leopold.” His cheeks were as red as the Gaffer’s prize tomatoes and you felt your eyes widen.
“Wait, what? Why would you ever be…?”
“The way he was making you laugh, and how light and happy and beautiful you were. I wanted to be the one doing that.”
“You did?”
“Of course I did. You’ve been my best friend for our whole lives.”
“Oh.” Of course that was what it was. You felt your heart sink. Sam had always felt strongly for all of the people in his life, it was one of his best features, and so seeing you having fun with someone else, especially while he was miserably longing for Rosie instead would hurt him. Of course.
“And then when you said something about Rosie, I got so angry.” He bit his lip and then rushed to add. “At myself of course, not at you. I couldn’t believe I had been so stupid. And then, I guess I was embarrassed.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well it’s just…there I was getting jealous and upset when I had never said anything, and given you all the wrong ideas, and I had no right to that, and I felt foolish, and didn’t know how to fix it.”
“Wrong ideas? Said anything? Sam, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to confess that you’re in love with me. But surely that’s not the case, so I must be missing something, and need you to be clearer.” Your laugh as you spoke was high and forced, but it was all you could do.
Sam sighed and shook his head, stepping close and raising a hand to try and cradle the back of your head. You startled, stumbling back from him, eyes wide and heart racing even faster if that was possible.
“What are you doing Sam?”
“Will you just trust me for a second?”
“I always trust you,” you said earnestly, relaxing as he reached again to touch you.
A breath later, his lips were brushing yours, and one of his hands was cradling the back of your neck, fingertips in your hair, and his other hand was holding yours. Your skin lit up, feeling like a thousand of Gandalf’s fireworks were sparking where Sam touched you.
“Oh.” You breathed when he pulled away, all too soon.
“Now do you understand? I love you, I’ve always loved you.”
“But what about Rosie…?” you wanted to kick yourself, but your mind hadn’t quite caught up to the rest of reality, so it tumbled out.
Thankfully, he laughed, the sound bright and beautiful and making your poor heart do a flip. “Rosie’s just a friend. Didn’t it ever occur to you that every time I was looking in her direction ‘moon-eyed’ it was because you were right beside her?”
It hadn’t.
“Oh Sam, I’m sorry. I never thought…I mean I wished but…” you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you smiled at him. When he smiled back just as bright, the world felt clearer and sharper than it had in a long time. “I love you too. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Don’t be. We were both fools, and it’s past now. We can make up for the time, if you’ll let me court you?”
“I would like nothing more.” You threaded your fingers with his, stepping close in the hopes of kissing him again.
But alas, it didn’t come, the moment interrupted by whoops of delight as Pippin, Merry, and Frodo, and to your shock Rosie herself, all burst from the bushes where they’d been hiding with your purloined things. You couldn’t help but laugh as they threw their arms around you and Sam in a messy group hug before tugging you both down the road toward the Green Dragon for a celebratory drink. Kissing and courting would have to wait, but at least, with your hand in his, you knew that it wouldn’t be only in your dreams.
#Samwise Gamgee x Reader#Lord of the Rings fic#I may have taken writing Tolkien fic as an excuse to write like Tolkien in long rambling sentences#and also this made me realize it's been a while since I watched the movies and there's not a ton of Sam-only clips online#so characterizations miiiight be rough#but I hope it's good#and worth the wait#jealousy fic#misunderstanding and miscommunication
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@tooxmanyxships tagged anyone who wanted to do it so I will.
rules: in a new post, post the last line you wrote/drew and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you like)
haha get some of ‘la douleur exquise’ fellow homies
Tagging: anyone who wants to do this as well!!
(P.S. i’ll do a few paragraphs bc last line was just one word and no context)
“I knew it. You get jealous so easily,” Oscar chuckles, the comforting sound easing the tension, “Don’t worry mate, he can’t compare to you.”
Logan still wasn’t convinced. “What do you think about the rumours about you and him then?”
Even in the dark lighting, Oscar’s flush was visible as he looked away, a hand flying to his nape to press down the brown curls there. Logan sighs and tries to regain his composure, “Do you have something for him?”
“No, I mean—“ Oscar frowns, looking back at Logan as his face grew redder, “He’s handsome and all, but I would never!” Logan laughs at how red Oscar has become. Cute.
#f1 rpf#loscar#can I tag#landoscar#since it mainly is these two ships#i’m#i’m not coping my neck is in pain#writing#ur mom haha#jealousy fic#281
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hi there! do you have any recs for jealous dean? maybe also when they are already together? thank you ! I'm always looking forward to your posts.
I've mentioned in an earlier request for the same thing that I'm not a big fan of jealousy fics, but I do have a few more (1 of which I had read only hours before you sent this lol)
Twenty After Four – queerwerewolf Ao3
Nonspecific timeframe. With a bit more down time on their hands, Dean suggests getting high with a newly human Cas. But Sam’s reaction to Dean shotgunning smoke with Cas is going to make Dean aware of the angel’s feelings at last.
Word Count: 6k Graphic Sexual Acts
A good idea – Plumee Ao3
Nonspecific timeframe. When he gave Cas the toy bee, Dean didn’t realise he was going to become jealous of the damn thing.
Word Count: 1k No Sex
Sam Stole My Boyfriend – sobsicles Ao3
Nonspecific timeframe. It started with a drunken mistletoe kiss that made Cas realise he is in love with Dean. Unfortunately, he approached Sam for help and now each time they plot, Dean gets angrier with both of them.
Word Count: 8k No Sex
the one where dean definitely doesn’t have a jealousy issue – idengager Ao3
Nonspecific timeframe. Now retired, there’s no doubt Dean is getting older, but that doesn’t mean he needs the help of some young twink to carry his boyfriend’s purchases. No matter what Dean’s back is now telling him.
Word Count: 1k No Sex
Take Me Dancing (show me the stars) – Chthon Ao3
Nonspecific timeframe. There’s something going on with Cas. He’s disappearing every night and is acting strange. Dean doesn’t like it at all. Sam just wants whatever Cas is clearly planning to hurry up because Dean is unbearable.
Word Count: 7k No Sex
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Hellfire (Fred Benson x Fem!Reader)
Masterlist
Word Count: 2.9K
Anon request: Hey hey hey!! Would you be up to write a Fred x Fem! Reader where Fred gets jealous over a misunderstanding and confesses to the reader? Like a fluffy hurt/comfort almost? Tysm! :D
A/N: While writing a chapter of Crazy For You, this idea popped up and I remembered this request and I was like,"perfect, it's fate." So her ya go, anon!
Synopsis: You and Fred are interviewing Eddie Munson for a spread on D&D and Hellfire Club, but Fred doesn’t like it when Eddie becomes a little too friendly with you.
CW: Swearing, jealous/angry Fred, Eddie being a mindless flirt (EddiexReader); fluffy ending
Eddie Munson was a notorious flirt. Something about the way words rolled off his tongue, dipped in honey, made everything he said sound like a come-on. It wasn't something he really had control of anymore. It was just hardwired into his nature and extended to almost everyone he spoke to. This is not a fact Fred cared to know, nor would it be relevant in his day-to-day life if he did know of Eddie's reputation. However, it became his problem now that it was directed at you.
You and Fred had been selected to report on The Hellfire Club, as Dungeons and Dragons was becoming the center of a national controversy. Initially, this assignment thrilled Fred. He had pulled resources from around the country that speculated on D&D's 'Satanic' connections and concerns that it would corrupt the youth. He assumed, like with any large outrage, it was all bullshit. Just a misunderstanding that people didn't care to educate themselves about and would rather buy into the sensationalized version on their television sets.
Sitting here conducting the pregame interview with Hawkins High School's Super Super Senior, though, was an entirely different thing. From the moment Eddie addressed you, beckoning you to have a seat as he found repose in his chair, Fred was set off-course. "Make yourself comfortable," Eddie all but purred, urging you both to take a seat, but his eyes were fixated solely on you.
"Thank you," you replied, tucking your skirt underneath you as you perched yourself on the edge of the folding chair.
"Of course, sweetheart. You're a guest here. And I will not have it said that I'm not an amicable host." He spread his hands wide and beamed wider. You unconsciously blushed at the nickname he'd so easily bestowed upon you and looked down at your notebook, feeling a bit flustered yourself. Fred immediately took note of the volley between you two. Eddie's words and your reaction instantly had him grinding his teeth within his clenched jaw.
"So, Eddie," you began with the introductory question, "how would you describe Dungeons and Dragons? What is this game all about?"
"Well, Y/N," he drawled, coating the syllables in sticky sweetness, "D&D is first and foremost a fantasy." He emphasized the last word with a lusty huff, implying much more than the aforementioned dragons. Then he sat back and continued jovially, "You know, dragons, magic spells, conquering evil, beautiful women." He raised his eyebrows at you and grinned, a wide smile showcasing his sharp white teeth.
"And how do you play?" Fred fired off the next question straight-to-the point. Normally, there'd be a more flowery set up for context, but he could already feel his fuse growing short. He loathed the way Eddie talked to you, looked at you, even.
"So, you see, I'm in the role that they call 'Dungeon Master'," Eddie gave a theatrical set of air quotes with ring-clad fingers. "I create the storyline. I have a basic route to lead my players down, but they have to make choices and much of it is left to chance."
"Go on," Fred encouraged bluntly.
"Usually the first game of a campaign starts with the group all meeting up and introducing their characters. Each one has their own history and special abilities. There are fantastical races as well as humans. And they can be of different 'classes,' which is kind of like a battle type. Some are true fighters, like rogues and barbarians. Others, like mages and clerics, use magic as their defense. Anyway, these characters will meet up and then I propose, usually in-character as a barkeep or a townsperson, that they fulfill some kind of quest. A mystery or a dark curse on the land. Then they set out to conquer it. There's usually smaller battles and obstacles along the way, so they can build up their characters and their powers. Earn little treasures, that sort of thing. All in order to someday confront the big boss."
"That sounds really interesting," you said, unscripted and leaning forward with genuine intrigue.
"It's as interesting as me and the club cares to make it, really. Each individual decides whether they'll engage in action or not. Some of my guys are really into being their character and will only do what they think that person would do."
"Like a play? Being another character like that?" You followed up and Eddie nodded.
"Others are a little more true to themselves and inject their own personalities and beliefs in it." He sat back, reading the awe on your face and Fred tapped his pencil impatiently.
"You said it's also 'up to chance,' what does that mean?" Fred interjected.
"Right, so," Eddie reached into a small velveteen pouch and produced several dice, no two alike and none of them looked like the normal six-sided dice you were used to in your board games. The smooth plastic clicked against his metal rings as he rolled the dice around in his hand, then presented them to you on a flat palm. "Some actions or answers depend on how these dice fall. There's particular rules about what die to use when and how to add them up, based on a character's ability or advantage, but the short of it is that there's a set number that I, as the Dungeon Master would know, and it's up to the players to roll above that number to conquer it. Sometimes it's in battle, sometimes it is to get information, sometimes just to do something. Like to see if they can make a big jump or can read an ancient text."
"May I?" You asked to see the dice, holding out your hand.
"Of course, sweet thing," Eddie said and placed the dice collectively in your open hand, then curled your fingers around them for you. The presumptuous touch incensed your co-reporter.
"How do they know you're not just lying about whether they made it or not?" Fred snapped his inquiry at Eddie.
"Huh? What?" Eddie asked, off-kilter. He wasn't paying attention to Fred beforehand, of course, as his hand was on yours. But he was also taken aback by the curt tone.
"If only you know the number that they're trying to reach, how do they know you're not lying? That you're not cheating them or something?" He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest and you took note of his demeanor. Fred's reporting style wasn't aggressive like this. Something was definitely off.
"Well, I have a guide book that tells me the level of power of monsters or skills needed for something, usually. I guess they could question it and then use the book to determine who is right. It isn't a total free-for-all. But I also think I've earned their trust. The best thing about this game is that it connects people. It feels real, in the moment, and you have to work together as a team for it to all actually work out." It was a wholesome, candid answer, and Fred didn't like it one bit.
"Let's dive into the big, difficult questions then, shall we? There's a big concern that this game has a seedy underside, that with those dragons, there's also demons and Satanic Worship." Fred hammered and you looked at him with wide-eyes. He had skipped ahead a lot and left some of your more simple questions like 'how did you get interested in D&D and what made you decide to start a club at Hawkins High?' in the dust.
"It's all a crock of shit, pardon my language," Eddie turned to you briefly before looking back at Fred. "Like I said, it's all fantasy. There's no real demons here. And the point is usually to defeat the evil forces, not to join them."
"Your club is literally named Hellfire," Fred scoffed, "you expect people to believe that you don't buy into the darker side?"
“It’s meant to be somewhat ironic, I suppose,” Eddie replied, still attempting to be cordial but it was clear that he was offended just underneath the surface. “We know what society’s expectations of our game are. So we’re riffing off that. And it gets a rise out of the older folks.” He waggled his eyebrows at you, trying to put an amusing spin on it.
“There seem to be some concerns about being able to tell fantasy from reality, though. You yourself said that it ‘feels real in the moment,’” Fred quoted back to him, reading from his notes, “who’s to say that you and your club members won’t lose touch? What if it becomes real to them?”
“Listen, man. We have a very good grasp on reality. And for a few hours a week, we try to escape the shit that is our reality. The one where we’re told we’re freaks, outcasts, that we’ll never amount to anything. And we come together for a common goal and tell a story together. It isn’t violent, it isn’t delusional. We know where the line is. It’s like seeing a movie or reading a comic book. Just a small escape from the mundane, but we know the difference. None of this shit actually exists. My players know they’re not half-elf royalty. We aren’t stupid.”
The tension was now palpable and both of them were leaning forward in their seats in a challenging manner, so you interrupted. “Eddie, I’m sure you have to continue setting up the game. Thank you so much for inviting us to sit in, by the way.” You shot a look at Fred, reminding him that there was a reason you were all here and that he needed to behave.
“Of course, my pleasure.” Eddie said flatly, indicating that it was anything but.
“I think we should take a little break. Let you work on your setup, and Fred and I will review our notes and hash some things out. Okay?” You smiled sweetly, trying to cover Fred’s blunder. Eddie agreed and you hauled Fred up from his seat, dragging him by the upper arm out into the hallway.
"Fred, what is going on with you? This is so…so unlike you!" You declared.
“What? I’m just digging. Did you forget that we’re here to do a report?”
“You could have eased him into it! You skipped a bunch of questions that were supposed to make it more personal and then you just started, I don’t know. Like, attacking him!”
“It was not an attack. He wasn’t very focused and I knew we had limited time to get to the meat of it. You know I wanted to do the Satanic-panic angle.”
“Yes, and I know that you don’t actually believe that rhetoric. But you were sure acting like you did! You kept badgering him to prove that they weren’t demon-worshippers or something. And what do you mean he wasn’t focused? He was giving us a detailed account of the game!”
“He was giving you a ‘detailed account’.” Fred scoffed.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It didn’t matter who asked him what, he was only looking at you when he answered.” He replied, blankly.
“So?”
“Are you really that blind to it, Y/N? He was flirting with you and just making eyes at you while we were trying to interview him. It was disgusting.”
“I--I. I didn’t really notice, no. But I guess some of the things he said could be construed as…wait, why is that disgusting?” You were taken aback. Was it really such an absurd idea that someone would flirt with you? Did Fred really see you as that undesirable, even though you hoped and prayed for the opposite: for him to notice you?
“It’s just not very professional,” he clarified.
“And you are being professional? With those tactics? You both were acting very punchy near the end there,” you reminded him.
“I met him with the same professionalism he was giving us; you.”
“And what you perceived as flirting bothered you that much to lose your cool? Why?”
"Whatever. I don't care. We're here to do research and should just stick to the story," he said hotly, through gritted teeth.
“You clearly do care. Why does it bug you? I’m pretty sure he talks that way to everybody--” you kind of drifted off, thinking of interactions you’d witnessed between Eddie and others. He was always over-the-top and laying it on thick. You didn’t think he meant anything by it.
“You’re not everybody, Y/N,” Fred mumbled and looked back to the doors of the auditorium. “We should probably go back in, get this over with.” He reached out to grab the door handle and you placed your hand on his.
“Fred, c’mon. There’s something more here. Something deeper. You were really excited about this article and to get his perspective. And now you want to ‘get it over with’? What’s really going on?”
“I told you. He just isn’t handling this very professionally. And you don’t seem to even care, which is particularly irksome. Do you…do you like him or something?”
“No!” You said a little too quickly. You tried not to be obvious but you only had eyes for Fred. While it was flattering, sure, to have Eddie’s attention or the nice things he said to you, it didn’t impact you or your feelings any. “No, I just…I don’t think he means anything by it. It’s just part of his personality. His act. He’s always, I don’t know, theatrical, I guess. That’s why it doesn’t bother me; I don’t think it’s meaningful on his part and I’m not interested.” Fred gave a quiet huff in response, and an idea dawned on you. Even though part of you was worried you were just being hopeful and seeing something that wasn’t there, you decided to ask anyway. Your hand was still on top of his and you gave it a small squeeze. “Fred, are you…jealous?” You asked hesitantly. It felt like an eternity to get the words out of your mouth.
“Pff, no,” he sputtered. “Why---why would I be jealous?” His aloof response cracked your heart and in your embarrassment you became angry instead.
“Then why do you care so much about this? Jesus!” You withdrew your hand from his quickly, trying to hastily think of an exit plan. You weren’t sure if you should storm off and try to save some face or if you should just head back into the theatre and continue on with the assignment and let Eddie flirt with you to boost you back up. Even if Fred wasn’t envious over it, he still was bothered by it, and right now that might be good enough for you and your hurt feelings.
“I just-- God, I don’t have an excuse. I am jealous, okay?” He folded his arms over his chest. “I--I am hating seeing how easy it is for him to say those things to you and to see you laugh and blush and get all girly over it. I’m jealous that he has that ability, to just--just say shit like that and not worry about the consequences. To be so upfront and obvious about it. But mostly, I’m jealous of the effect it has on you. And that I can’t do the same.” He immediately clammed up and felt sick. He hadn’t meant to spew all of that information to you, but once he started, he just couldn’t stop.
“What are you talking about?” You asked. You were both incredulous of believing he meant what you hoped he meant, but you also couldn’t believe he didn’t see the influence he had on you and your emotions.
He let out a shaky breath. “I like you, Y/N. More than friends or reporters or whatever. I just…don’t know how to express it because I’m not like that. Not like Eddie. I can’t just outright tell you you’re beautiful because I am terrified that you’ll run the other way, or--or laugh in my face or whatever. Except, now I’m telling you and that defeats the entire purpose. Oh God, I think I’m going to pass out.” He started to ramble, putting his hand up to his forehead.
“Fred. Fred!” You placed your hands on his arms to brace him and make sure he stayed upright. “Nope, you’re not allowed to pass out on me. Look, I’m not running. I’m not laughing. I’m right here because I like you too. Eddie’s flirting doesn’t bother me and nothing will come of it because I like you, okay? I was just as scared to tell you. That’s all.”
“Really?” He said, still feeling hazy and dizzy, but at least opening his eyes to look at you. Your expression was serious, truthful. He knew he had his answer, but accepted your nod anyway.
You repositioned your hands to embrace him, wrapping your arms around him tightly as he returned the gesture. It seemed silly now, all of the anxiety and build-up when the two of you should have realized what was obvious. He pulled back just a bit, arms still around you as he looked down at your upturned gaze. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, nervously.
“I thought you’d never ask.” You replied, leaning up to meet his lips.
#stranger things fred benson#fred benson x fem!reader#fred benson x reader#fred benson#stranger things 4#volume 1#d&d#eddie x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#jealousy fic#misunderstanding#fluff
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Possessive Ch. 2
I hope ya’ll can make a little room on your redacted plate of content for this little fic of mine.
If ya’ll didn’t like Cade before, you’re really not gonna like him now hehe
https://archiveofourown.org/works/39477012/chapters/98805474
Chapter 2 of Possessive below the cut!
They found David in his office, mulling over some extra paperwork about some new gigs the company picked up recently. Angel shut the door quicker than they’d meant to. David’s eyes shot up to theirs, looking shocked. “Angel? What’s wrong?”
They moved towards him, wrapping their arms around his shoulders. He only hesitated for a second before hugging them back, grip so tender and light it was almost like it wasn’t there. They stayed that way for a few short minutes, before David grabbed Angel by the shoulders and made them look him in the eye. “Angel, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
The sides of Angel warred within themselves over what to say. The possessive side didn’t want to talk, they wanted David to push them over the desk and claim them in this very room—proving that they were his. The side of them that was David’s mate wanted to tell him what had happened, watch him kick Cade and his pack to the curb and make them leave him alone. But the part of them that was, well, them, wanted nothing more than to prove to Cade themselves that they could win in the fight for David’s affection.
So instead of answering, Angel cupped David’s cheeks in their hands and kissed him. Their lips were so soft against his, before he pulled them in and deepened the kiss. Amusement shot through them when he asked for permission with the tip of his tongue, and they granted access with a part of their lips. Their kiss fortified something in Angel. Even after all the reassurance, even after everything that they knew about David and how he was loyal and dedicated and not a bad person, this kiss sealed their bond. The quiet and gentle thrum of magic through the mate’s bond pulsed through Angel, and David felt it too.
“Something you want to say to me now?”
Angel only smiled. “You’re mine, you know that? My Alpha.”
David gave a half hearted attempt at rolling his eyes. “That’s what you had to say?”
They chuckle, resting their head against his. “No, actually. I did have something I wanted to say.”
David looks into their eyes, the mood suddenly serious. “What is it?”
They took a shaky breath to prepare, and then told him about the exchange they had just had with Cade in the kitchen. His expression steeled at the start of the story, as if he was skeptical that this had actually happened or if his Angel was just trying to rile him up. But the further they got into the story, the more he seemed to believe it. The part that hit home wasn’t what Angel had expected him to get the most angry over. It wasn’t Cade wanting his company, or his territory, or even to globalize their success—it was the fact that he’d told Angel they would always be a burden to him because they were unempowered. David had growled low in this chest, that primal sound that sent shivers through anyone's spine at its intensity.
“He really said all those things to you?”
Angel nodded. “But Davey, his plan to take your land, the company, the pack right out from under you, I think–”
“His greatest offense was hurting you, Angel.” His tone had darkened, the look in his eyes distant. “And if it wasn’t for my family living under his pack name, I’d exile him from Dahlia forever.”
#redacted david#redacted angel#jealousy fic#i hope this lives up to expectations#last few weeks passion project#redacted asmr
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Jily jealousy wip 👀
Thank you !!
oh I’ve worked on this fic for ages - but when you do 7th year pining you want it to be perfect. Here’s a snippet
“Lily Evans attempts to prevent a scowl from creeping across her face as she sits tucked away on a couch ignoring the majority of her housemates.
It is taking conscious effort to remain neutral. A great deal of her brain cells fight to keep her from biting anyone’s head off.
Her only reasoning? It would be terrible form for the Head Girl to project her bad mood in the middle of a quidditch victory party.
Especially as the team played spectacularly - Shit. Don’t think about the team. Or any players on the team. And DO NOT think of their captain.”
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здраствуйте можно сделать реакцию на ревность аластора
Translated:
Hi, can I get a reaction to Alastor's jealousy?
Yes.
Jealousy Headcanons
Alastor X Reader
Warning! ⚠
⚠ platonic to romantic, violence, all caps in bold italics = SOUND EFFECTS, implied torture/murder, gore? eyeballs, possessive? Alastor wants all of your attention ⚠
Alastor has never felt jealous! How absurd of you to think that! Hahaha! Ha... Who is that demon taking up your attention?
He always had your attention.
You could be talking to the Princess but still focus on him.
Hell, you could be checking in a guest and still keep up with his tale of the day.
But now it was quite odd.
There was a demon coming by the hotel, not to see if they were interested in the cause but to use up his friend's precious time.
Even now the beastly thing walked up to the check in counter and started up a conversation with you.
He watched from the bar.
"Hey! I see its dead as ever in here.", the dragon demon grinned as they leaned on the counter.
"Not true~", you had replied. "I checked in four new guests!"
Yes, you had a knack of persuasion. Able to convince many to do almost anything. Sometimes even him.
"Oh yeah? How many sinners walked in?", the scaled creature leaned close.
Far too close for his liking.
"I just told you how many.", you replied and placed a finger on the dragon's snout, pushing them back as well. "Personal space."
He didn't like this demon.
Everything about them set something off. Their manners, their way of speaking, the way they move-
"Oh come on, I don't bite sugar cake~", the beast took your hand and kissed their way up to your elbow.
The way they t̵̬̥̻͂̿̈́ȏ̴̒͠u̸c̷̈́̊̆́̓͘h̷e̴̖̖͒̓͂͋̎ḑ̴̣̋͜ you.
"Nope!", you yanked your arm away and held it close. "None of that.", you laughed nervously with an uncomfortable smile.
It looked wrong. Your smile should be a happy one.
"I said I don't bite!", they laughed and tried to grab at your arm again. "You know I'm messing! When's your break?", they leaned over the counter, still trying to get at something to pull you closer. "I know a good bar to go to, or we can go to the club! I'd like to see your ass in something a little less-"
"Ew, no.", you rejected and backed away.
"Come on!", they started to climb on the counter. "Its just one time! I'll even help you get in and out of your clothes.", they grabbed onto your sleeve.
That's ENOUGH!
He quickly shadow traveled and snatched the wrist of the dragon.
"I believe they said no."
The beast growled with a sneer before looking at him, freezing up once realizing who had their wrist.
"I was just joking man. Haha..", the dragon looked between him and you. "I understand! I'll back away. The slut is yours."
"Excuse me!?", you said angrily.
His antlers grew, the low static that hummed now raising up in volume.
"₵₳ⱤɆ ₮Ø ⱤɆ₱Ɇ₳₮ ₮Ⱨ₳₮?"
"The slut-"
SNAP
He held the demon's snout shut as they screamed and cried over their broken wrist.
"Now, there is a no killing rule in the hotel.", he said and then grinned menacingly. "But that doesn't apply outside."
His smile widened after seeing the panic in their eyes.
"Dear.", he turned to face you. "Has this guest overstayed their welcome?"
You stared at the beast with such a terrifyingly hateful glare.
"Yes they have.", you replied, crossing your arms. "I'd like to keep a souvenir, for memories."
And then you gave him that lovely smile.
"Alastor, do you think you could get me a dragon eye or two? I hear they make nice details to things."
"I'll make sure to get them.", he released the demon, only for his tendrils to take hold of them. "I won't be long.", he reassured, lifting up your hand to kiss the back of it.
He saw you blush before he 'escorted' the demon outside.
After finishing up (and calling Niffty to clean up), he returned with two freshly picked dragon eyes.
You thanked him with an odd little gleam in your eyes. No doubt your mind jumping idea to idea of what you could create with them.
Now with the pest gone, he would have your attention again.
Just like he wanted
"Thank you Alastor. I'll be able to make something interesting with these."
"I can't wait to see what you make this time."
Perhaps he'll ask you that question sooner than later.
Of course he has to prepare everything to properly court you.
I am using a website to translate requests. Please let me know if I have translated anything wrong.
~Seline, the person.
Taglist@
@willowaudreykeyes @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @lbcreations-blog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @+?
ML for Alastor🎙
#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor the radio demon#gn reader#the radio demon#alastor x reader#headcanons#alastor headcanons#jealousy#implied murder#implied torture#gore?#eyeballs#this turned out more like a fic#he do want all your attention tho
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Astarion Jealousy Part 2
The graphic extension to this but a lil less serious and definitely not sfw.
CW: Jealous spawn astarion who is still a sweetheart, but the drow twins get under his skin. graphic sex scenes, oral, relatively tame honestly. The sex part will be under the cut btw which is m/f. Also vampire man drinks blood. mentionable incorrect language for sex workers
~
It was odd, being home in Baldur’s Gate without the threat of Cazador always looming. Odd, but equally as wonderful. It had been so thoughtful, if not a little idiotic for Cazador to end up being your first stop in the city. The fight itself had been a blur, a barrage of intense emotions and bloody violence. Astarion had come so close to losing himself back there, losing everything that made him better than the man who almost ruined him. But then… you stopped him. You saw something more in him, a chance for a better life. A more meaningful life, away from the shackles of vampiric power obsessions.
He was officially free. Now he could exist without any fear of his disgusting master’s retribution. He could just… be. Well… not including his darling’s own myriad of enemies that seemed to follow them about everywhere. And there was still the matter of defeating the elder brain, and lord knows if any of you made it through that alive. But at least his personal demons were slain and out of the picture.
Every little step counted after all. Perhaps some of your delusional hopefulness had finally started to rub off on him, but Astarion was actually starting to look forward to his future. Your future, together. All he had to do was get through a few more perilous adventures and then he’d really have you all to himself.
All that said, Astarion could really go without the frequent visits to the local brothel. Was it the best place in the city for gathering information? Yes. It seemed that every walk of life in Baldur’s Gate found their way into Shar’s Caress and if you were going to find alternative passage to the underworld, this would be the best place to find it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. For one there were the unwelcome advances to his own person, the concept of grace and personal space apparently left at the door. He was so very close to breaking the hand of the next person who thought it was appropriate to grab his ass. And if they could afford to get kicked out he would have by now. Your verbal, angry tirades in his defense could only scare off so many.
But as terrible as his own discomfort was, it was nothing in the face of how often you were being fawned over. What was it about you that seemed to drive everyone mad? Yes you were objectively attractive, but this was frankly getting out of hand. First there was the green skinned druid doing something sensual to your mind, then there were the general stares and whispers as you walked by, and now a pair of gorgeous drow twins trying and failing to proposition you.
It was getting tiresome. There were only so many times a man could take his lover being offered “free” services before he snapped.
On one hand, he could respect the dedication they had to the craft. He could be considered something of a hired whore himself in his time, the old, “the first one’s free” was a tried and true trick. And he also knew, vaguely, that no one was actually trying to steal you from him. But on the other, he couldn’t help the fact that he wanted to claw their eyes out for looking at you so brazenly.
He hadn’t expected the eyes of the woman to wander over to him, like she was just noticing the possessive arm he had wrapped around your waist, “Is that your partner with you? How would you both feel about having a little fun?”
Absolutely fucking not. Maybe the old Astarion would have smiled and nodded, ready to do whatever was asked of him. But the man from that wretched era had died, or at the very least was dying. And he would be damned if he let you lay with another, never less participate in it.
Astarion interrupted your overly-polite attempts stuttering of a refusal. He glared at them both, a sneer painted on his face, “We’ll be passing on that. You’d think the first no would have sufficed, but I suppose it’s not fair to expect everyone to have basic language comprehension. Now as illuminating as this conversation has been, we have places to be. Excuse us.”
Then he was pulling you away, happy to ignore the offended huffs of indignation he had left in his wake.
“We’re supposed to be investigating, remember?” You said with a giggle, not even questioning him as he dragged you to the second floor, “Being rude is not the way we’ll find travel to the hells.”
“I highly doubt they would have been of use,” Astarion said as he pushed you into the first empty room he could find. He felt off, maybe even a little crazed as he turned to you, “Tell me darling, what is it about you that makes you so irresistible, hm?”
He crowded you against the closed door, ducking his head into the crook of your neck to breath you in. You smelled heavenly, you always did. He could trace the barest whiff of your blood from beneath your skin, always calling to him. You were the sweetest thing he ever tasted. Delicious even, for more reasons than one.
“T-They just wanted my coin,” You gasped when he started to suck bruises into your skin, “That’s all.”
“I think they wanted a bit more than that,” Astarion bit out as he shoved his thigh between your legs, “What will it take for others to realize you’re mine.”
His hands were wandering, resting low to grip your hips. He was using them to move you, forcing you to grind against his thigh. You grasped at his shoulders, trying to bite back a moan as you stared at him with wide eyes, “You want to do it here? Does that door even lock?”
It looked like it didn’t, not that Astarion cared. Maybe walking in on him ravishing you would finally start getting the point across of who you belonged to. Astarion shrugged, "There are less appropriate venues than literal whore houses."
“But-”
“But I can tell you want it,” Astarion interrupted with a smirk, his hands barely working to move your body anymore. But that wasn’t stopping you from rubbing yourself all over him, “Just look at you darling. Desperate little thing. But if you really don’t want to…”
Astarion made a lazy attempt to step back, laughing out loud when your desperately pulled him back, your desire finally winning out over your common sense. But you were glaring at him, obviously annoyed that he was so good at riling you up. He had seen that look before, the one that just screamed that you were scheming something.
He just hadn’t expected you to drop to your knees in front of him, huffing as you started to undo the fastenings to his pants, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit of a shit?”
“Maybe,” Astarion said with a strained laugh, his breath catching when you pulled his half-hard cock out, “But it seems to keep getting me the things I want.”
You rolled your eyes before licking a wide strip up his cock, like you weren’t directly proving his point. You looked amazing own there, you’re half-hearted glare morphing into a blissful haze.
Gods, how were you real? Astarion wasn’t quite sure why you were such a fan of getting him down your throat, but he knew that he was a lucky bastard for it.
“Sweet girl,” Astarion sighed, letting a hand drift down to tangle in your hair, “Sweet girl with a perfect mouth. And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”
You made a small, affirmative noise around his cock, taking him in deeper as you clutched at his thighs. You were so good at this, so well-trained after months of being together. He loved the soft, wet sounds that would escape your lips as you swallowed him down, the pretty way your eyes would water as you encouraged him to fuck your throat, how you would squirm in place on your knees, no doubt ruining your panties with how wet you were getting.
And no one else would ever know. No one would get to see you like this again, feel you like this. Needy, desperate, and his. Oddly enough, that thought was what sent him over the edge. He came down your throat, groaning as you eagerly swallowed around him.
You pulled off of him slowly, panting while you smiled up at him. There was the smallest string of spit mixed with his come, connecting from the head of his cock to your lips. You licked it up, still clinging to his thighs as you hazily stared up at him. Sweet enough to make his heart skip a beat, and his dick give a valiant twitch.
He pulled you to your feet, not wasting any time in smashing your lips together. He spun you around, pushing you towards what he prayed was a clean bed.
He pushed you back onto the sheets, making quick work of tearing your pants down your legs as he grinned down at you, “Your turn.”
He kneeled in front of you; spreading his hands over your splayed thighs to peel off your underwear. The core of you was already glistening, slick enough to make Astarion’s mouth water. He licked his lips as he spread your legs further apart, shameless as he feasted on you with his eyes.
You were shaking in his hold, biting your bottom lip when you whined, “Stop staring already…”
“But you’re so pretty here my sweet,” Astarion cooed, tracing a single finger over the seam of your cunt, “And you’re dripping. Poor thing, have I kept you waiting too long?”
You nodded excitedly above him, your hips bucking when he let his fingers dip in further between your pussy lips. He lightly traced your clit, softly laughing at the way the simple touch made you whine.
It was his own fault that you were so needy, a fact that brought a smirk to his lips. You always got so wet after you had him down your throat, soaked and gorgeous.
Astarion dove right in, loudly moaning as he licked into your folds. He dragged his lips upward to suckle on your clit, basking in all the cries and whimpers escaping you.
He licked back down, teasing your hole with his tongue as your legs quivered around his head. He let the sharpness of his fangs scrape against you as he started to fuck you with his tongue, threatening your most intimate places.
He knew you liked that; little minx that you were. The slight risk of pain that was always looming. It made him want to sink his fangs in you for real, a hunger that he'd sate after he had you gushing into his mouth.
You were already close, he could tell from the way your cunt was tightening around his tongue; too worked up from the thrill of being in public and the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Astarion trailed talented fingers up to rub against your clit, his tongue still curling inside of you as you cried out. Finally falling over the edge. But that wasn't stopping him from continuing to play with you.
You had to tug on Astarion’s hair for him to finally pull away, too over sensitive to handle his talented tongue. You were still trembling by the time he leaned back, licking his lips. He rested his head on your thigh, obviously pleased with himself as he grinned up at you. He could feel your heart racing against his cheek, the sound of your blood pumping singing through your veins. It had his mouth watering for a completely different reason.
He let his fangs drag against the delicate skin of your inner thigh, looking up at you through his lashes, "Can I?"
A superfluous question. Not when he already knew the answer before it escaped your lips.
“Y-yeah," You mumbled, lovingly gazing down at him. He would never tire of seeing that look on your face, "But be gentle? Please?”
"Of course my love," Astarion murmured, before promptly sinking his fangs into your flesh. He had to hold you down from the way you were still trembling, your quivering only getting worse at the pleasure mixed with pain. He didn’t let himself go rabid, just enough to get a taste. He was pulling back too soon, smiling to himself at the little whine you let out. He gently licked over the wound before standing, not yet swallowing the last drops on his tongue.
Instead he leaned forward to kiss you, more than happy to share the sweet taste of your blood as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.
“Thank you my dear,” Astarion sighed as he pulled away, “That was exactly what I needed. Now I think that’s enough investigating for one day.”
You sighed, taking the time to card your fingers through his hair, “Agreed. Though you might have to carry me out of here now.”
Wasn’t that a wonderful idea?
Astarion hummed as he pulled your clothing back on, “I think I like the sound of that," He didn't give you time to respond, too busy sweeping you up in his arms with a grin, "I'll be taking you up on that."
You squeaked when he hefted you up, bridal style, “I wasn’t being serious!”
But it was too late, Astarion was already kicking the door open. He shrugged at you, completely shameless as he winked at a few onlookers, "Then you shouldn't have suggested it."
You groaned, hiding your face in his shirt as he happily took you outside, “I’m going to get you back for this. I hope you know that.”
Astarion laughed as he kissed the top of your head, “I’m sure you will.”
It was a childish stunt, borderline on par with a jealous tantrum, but gods, did it feel good. Good enough to sate Astarion's obsessive tendencies for an impressive amount of time. Under normal circumstances.
But what about your lives were normal?
#astarion#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#baldur's gate 3#you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands#long fic#spoilers#and thats how later astarion found himself on stage with a killer clown#whoops#still fluffy i'd say#I got a soft (in comparison to cough alternatives) jealousy trilogy in mind so one more dirty part. Also#side note#in reality everyone in your party is attractive and probably gets flirted with an equal amount at the caress#but I love the idea of astarion being hyper focused on you.
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Jealous / Possessive
masterlist | req masterlist
Tease by @beckzorz
A fake date with a Danish alien tech dealer. Bucky gets bored, and maybe a little jealous, while he’s waiting in the command truck outside. It’s all downhill from there.
Jealousy Jealousy by @antiquarianfics
seeing red by @buckysfaveplum
bucky can’t just sit and watch as a man makes you uncomfortable in a bar
Jealous by @pellucid-constellations
You keep talking about the owner of that new bakery and it’s rubbing Bucky the wrong way.
All Over You by @jobean12-blog
Walker tries to put the moves on you, Bucky’s jealous and protective but a dumbass, Sam has to watch the whole thing…(he’s so done with their shit)
Green by @itsapeterthing
three times bucky realized you were more than a friend and the one time he finally admitted it
Headcanon by @icarus-fell-in-spring
Jealous!Bucky Barnes would include
I don’t get jealous by @this-ginger-has-no-soul
bucky where your ex-fiancee comes back and you have to work w/ him and bucky becomes real protective
Erase Every Trace by @angrythingstarlight
Bucky had to sit back and watch another man touch you, but now that the ruse is over, he’s going to erase every trace of him off your skin.
Can you not… by @buckyalpine
Your ex is trying to win you back, wonder what Bucky thinks about that?
Jealousy by @halcyonrogers
Bucky watches from afar as you converse with Peter Parker, the new teenage recruit. Things begin to heat up on Peter’s end as he keeps paying you compliments, and Bucky takes things into his own hands.
Around My Neck by @mcu1shots
Bucky notices your new necklace, he isn't sure he's a fan.
#bucky barnes fic rec#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes smut#winter soldier x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes jealousy#bucky barnes jealous#bucky barnes possessive#bucky barnes x avenger!reader#bucky barnes x wife!reader#husband!bucky#mob!bucky#jealous!bucky
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afton'd reader sets a man up to be straight up point blank Murdered and honestly, good for them, wish i could do that when someone flirts with me when im working smh
(i say that like i've been flirted with more than maybe two times in four years of customer service type shit)
#bones of a rabbit#fnaf au#fnaf sun/moon#fnaf sun x reader#fnaf sun x y/n#fnaf moon x reader#fnaf moon x y/n#afton virus au#afton'd reader au#broken hands au#in one hand you hold the two that matter most#(in the other you hold a knife)#still working on a title for potential afton'd au fic#bones of a rabbit fic#fnaf fanfic#doodles#sketches#tw possessive behavior#tw jealousy#tw yandere#possessive sun and moon#obsessive love#tw murder#death mention
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idk if ur into it but if you have any jealous dean fics to recommend pls do
I'm not really a big fan of them myself, mostly because Dean is usually written as quite unhinged in some bi-panicking/possessive monster/self-depreciating type way or he's jealous because Cas is actually dating someone else and as I've mentioned in the past I don't like reading Cas/Others, so these might not be exactly what you're looking for.
Ignorance is Bliss (Usually) - 60r3d0m Ao3
Set S12. Sam gets knocked out during a big battle and misses the moment that Dean and Cas finally admit their feelings for each other. No one realises that Sam doesn’t know and this causes some problems when Sam draws the wrong conclusions.
Word Count: 8k Non-Graphic Sex
They've Got a Secret – Lyekka Ao3
Set S9 AU. After Sam and Cas get back from a hunt, they seem secretive and closer than ever, something that Dean doesn’t like, worried that he’s missed his shot with the ex-angel.
Word Count: 10k No Sex
The Marriage Misconception - SareBear69 Ao3
Set S10. Gabriel suggests that Dean and Cas bond in order to save Cas’ life from his declining grace. Never one to avoid a prank, he also tells Dean that it’s the equivalent of an angel marriage. And somehow they are both jealous of Hannah.
Word Count: 65k Graphic Sexual Acts
Making Him Smile – lizleenimbus Ao3
Nonspecific timeframe. Staking out a night club, Dean sees Cas seemingly happy while talking to a man and decides to leave him to it. The angel has other ideas about what makes him happy, and its not someone else.
Word Count: 3k No Sex
The Win – Tibbins Ao3
Set S13. Dean retreats into himself again in the weeks after Cas returns. Sam explains to Cas what Dean was like while he was dead and how worried Sam was and in the process figures out that Dean is staying distant because he’s jealous of Jack. Cas sets out to fix it
Word Count: 8k No Sex
All's Fair In Love And War – sobsicles Ao3
Set S12. For the past few weeks Dean and Cas have been fighting, because Cas has been offered a place helping the BMoL and is thinking about going. Sam isn’t sure if Dean is more upset that Cas is thinking about going, or if its because Mick is the one convincing Cas to go.
Word Count: 9k Non-Graphic Sex
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hello again from the anon who requested ‘if only we knew’ !! i only just saw it now but i want to say that was absolute mastery and i loved it an incredible amount <3 more thoughts have been circulating in my mind so i’m here 🎉
I’m thinking a small smau au where charles ultimately hard launches your relationship because you’re regularly seen around the ferrari garage but for whatever reason, people assume that you’re there to support carlos!! charles is definitely “not jealous”, he just wants people to know that you’re his and he’s yours <3
lots of love to you!!
yourusername
liked by yourbestfriend, yourbestfriend2, carlosfannnn and 3,610 others
life lately ❤️
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carlosfannnn ARE YOU DATING CARLOS???
yourbestfriend life's been treating us gooood <3
yourusername
liked by carlossainz55, yourbestfriend, charlesleclerc and 7,360 others
you still make my heart beat fast, Ferrari
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carlosisthebest SHE IS FOR SURE SOFT LAUNCHING HER RELATIONSHIP WITH CARLOS OMG
ferrarifan5516 RIGHT??? Carlos even liked her post!!!
f1gossippages Nobody's gonna talk about the fact that BOTH Ferrari boys liked her post? 👀
charlesleclerc
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 2,681,602 others
Mine forever ❤️😉
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yourusername Forever and ever ❤️
carlossainz55 I take photo credits for the first and last pic!
charlesleclerc 😉
landonorris someone saw the rumours and got jealoussss
yourusername HAHAHA with the amount of rumours even I was confused 😂
charcarlando No but he said HARD launch lmao
yourusername
liked by charlesleclerc, yourbestfriend, charles16fan and 76,730 others
you're the only one for me ❤️😉
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charlesleclerc mon amour pour toujours
(translation: mon amour pour toujours (my love forever))
yourbestfriend cutiessss <3
thatferrarifan OMG WE WERE ALL SO WRONG, HOW DID THIS HAPPEN HAHAHA
yourusername never believe the rumours until you know the truth 😉
thatferrarifan HAHAHA yesss you're so right!!! Love you two, you're so cute together!
a/n: hello lovely! Thank you so much for requesting this plot. I loved it and had so much fun creating it, even with all the sneaky little details added such as Carlos taking photo credits, which explained why they were both in a jet. The pictures being cropped off. The picture of her standing in front of Carlos' garage but with Charles number on it. I hope you loved it <3 My 'graduation' requests are open till Wednesday February 21th! So if anyone wants to send in something, you can through this link, but make sure to check out this post for all the rules <3
#f1#formula 1#formula one#lando norris#f1 imagines#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#charles leclerc#carlossainz#smau#social media au#charles leclerc instagram au#au#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc angst#jealousy#f1 fanfiction#f1 edit#f1 fiction#f1 story#f1 series#f1 fan#f1 fans#f1 fanfic#scuderia ferrari
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