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#thank you for not getting angry at me for things taking so long-It's something I fear greatly
comfortless · 1 day
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ur konig fics heal me thank you my morning is better :DD
anww, i had a bit of a question! i wasnt sure if u have already answered this question, but how would konig react if he finds out his darling is somehow affiliated in the same field he's in? whether that be a medic or smth else etc etc aside from that, i love ur fics c:
thank you, beloved! ^^ i did a bit here!
but to expand on that a little, i think you may get more leeway with him being a medic.
Instead of being pestered to return home (his home), you may just get this brute extending a hand to help you out. Not that he’s got a lick of medical training. He can patch a wound with a makeshift tourniquet in the midst of some firefight, knows well enough not to fall asleep when he’s been banged up a bit too much, but assisting you with other people is a very large, pronounced “No.”
Soothe him by letting him hover a bit and watch you work. He’s not supposed to be in here, but it’s nice having some wolf in sheep’s skin nearby to pass you the gauze from across the room. So long as he isn’t lifting or touching the poor injured souls in your care, it shouldn’t be much of a problem, right? No one dares to peep any criticism for your work when you’ve got a smitten Goliath nearby, anyway.
Except, he does get a bit jealous here. You’re so gentle with the operators in your care, cooing to them and tending to their every need like a servant rather than the lovely angel that you are to him. He almost wishes that he weren’t so good at what he does, just to experience that once. Or twice. Or for a lifetime. Whatever time you’re willing to give to him, he will take it.
Maybe he gets a bit reckless, gives himself a minor injury by pulling something in the midst of lifting weights. König doesn’t do that; when he fucks up, he deals with it himself, so it’s more than a little strange to see him crossing into the room with an actual injury. It won’t put him out for long, just enough time to experience your gentle hands over him, see that caring look in your eye directed toward him instead of one of these bastards that doesn’t truly appreciate you, not the way that he does at least.
He misconstrues you just doing your job as an outright declaration that what he feels is mutual, and maybe it is, because the care that you give to him is different. You laugh, not at him or his injury, but out of pure mirth when you ask who’s going to offer you ibuprofen instead of gauze now. Your touch is lingering, and you playfully shove the shoulder that hasn’t been wounded when he tells you a kiss would cure him better than any medicine.
His wayward courtship comes with every nick or scrape he “suffers”. The comments grow increasingly strange the moment you’re on your knees tending to the tiniest bruise you’ve ever seen on a man. You both know it’s absolutely nothing, that all of this is absurd and silly and he should just make some sort of move already. Except, that when he does tell you this scene would be so much better in his room, you’re quick to shush him and request that he leave.
… But you don’t stay angry with him for long.
Your favorite soldier always returns to you.
The next time with a clumsily plucked, yellow wildflower and a stare that borders on unnerving when he thrusts the dainty thing into your face; a tight-lipped apology follows when he tells you that he’s not sure what came over him, you’re just so pretty, and that he thinks about you so often it’s making him more than a little crazy.
The time after that with food from a restaurant away from base and another vague profession of love.
And again, with some pretty necklace in tow that he claims used to belong to his mother. König is more intense than ever when he strings the jewelry around your throat with shaking hands, dips his head down to huff into your ear as an arm snakes around your waist to keep you trapped there against him.
“Is that enough?” is the growl that follows, the warmth of his breath and the sheer intensity in his voice causing every hair at the back of your neck to stand on end.
“For what…?” And you could almost pray he’s not truly dumb enough to attempt to lure you into his bed for a string of jewelry his mother trusted him with.
“To make you like me.”
To anticipate something that sounds so innocent from a man who kills for a living is unheard of. You already suspected after his ridiculous comment about a kiss, already knew from the start with all of the trinkets he’s fetched for you, but the thought that he didn’t know already… poor thing.
So, you tell him that you already do, that you have for a while, it’s just that maybe suggesting you blow him before offering a proper date is more than a little inappropriate. Not that having your overgrown suitor chasing your heels is any less.
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voidandabyssal · 2 days
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Hi! I am back! I love what you did with my request and I wish to ask for the same thing but with their brothers.
Again, take you're time and don't rush it <3
Thank you! I appreciate the compliment!!
Papyrus:
Well, unlike Sans which will pretty much just let the guy go (aside from the mild humiliation)
Papyrus will grab the thief’s hand, pull it out of your bag, and lecture him
The thief can struggle as much as he wants, he’s not getting out of Papyrus’s grip
And trust me, it will be long. The thief will have learned his lesson (or at least promised himself to never steal from another skeleton again)
You do have to drag Papyrus away though, or else you’ll be late for your date!
Honesty, this is probably the kindest reaction you’ll get out of any of the skeletons, lol
Edge (uf paps):
Edge is too distracted regaling you with the romantic plans for the night that he doesn’t see the thief until he’s already running off with you wallet
The audacity of them😤😤
Edge squawks in rage (and in embarrassment a little as well)
He’s taking off after the man, and even in his heeled boots Edge is a pretty quick runner
Suffice to say the thief does not get very far before Edge grabs them by the scruff of the neck and yanks them back.
Already he’s growling out death threats and such
Your wallet drops to the floor and Edge dutifully hands it to you
You have to distract Edge long enough for the thief to get away, otherwise an ambulance is going to be called
Edge really doesn’t take this humiliation well and he’s a little quiet for the rest of the night
Luckily with some reassurances (and kisses) Edge is back to normal
Blue (us sans):
Blue recognises the man following the two of you
He’s a well known pocket thief that the police have been searching for for ages.
No way was Blue going to let him slip by! He’s very sorry your walk together was interrupted, but justice must be served!
So technically the thief doesn’t even get the chance to grab anything of yours because Blue pretty much jumps on him screaming for him to put his hands behind his back
What is a scuffle turns into a full on brawl as the criminals friends jump in to pull Blue away
And you cant just leave Blue undefended, so you jump in and start fighting them off
Things only calm down once Blues coworkers arrive and untangle the pile of angry, injured humans
Well, at least Stretch will have something interesting to hear about
Crooks (ht paps):
The thief reaches for the cookies Crooks baked for you
Crooks bends down and nearly bites his hand off🥰🥰
Get you a man who will protect you like Crooks protects his food
Okay but he does end up feeling pretty bad, especially with how hungry the thief was looking
Crooks and you end up sharing some of your food with the poor guy
Apparently he’s been getting chased around by all these different skeletons all day.
Damn. Anyways, Crooks ends up giving some sweet advice to the guy
He hopes the man turns his life around and the two of you head on back home ready to do some more baking
And get Crooks some more pain killers ( that much sudden movement really kills his back, ouch)
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okkennymay · 4 months
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Commission for @jaxinkh
Ooooo lookin fiIIINE Jason Todd! Ahhh This new year has been going better than I'd ever hoped it could!~ Ahh You waited so long Jaxinkh, Thank you for being so patient- I'm most definitely putting a disclaimer on my next commission page that the times they may take may vary wildly thanks to my health o(* ̄▽ ̄*)ブ
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ghostedcas · 7 months
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imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose
okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."
thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
wc: 563
warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)
a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3
a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?
simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.
so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.
looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.
"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.
"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.
"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.
"i'm taken."
"i know." you replied with a short laugh.
"you should be touching me like that then."
it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.
"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"
"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.
"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.
sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.
"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.
you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.
"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.
"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.
simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."
you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.
you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.
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inkskinned · 3 months
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most writing advice is good as long as you know why it is good, at which point it is also bad. the hardest thing (and most precious thing) about being an artist is that you gotta learn how to take critique. i don't mean "just shut up and accept that people hate your work," i mean you need to learn what the critique is saying and then figure out if it actually helps.
i usually tell people reading my work: "i'm collecting data, so everything is useful." i ask them where they put the book down, even though it's too long for most people to read in 1 sitting. i ask them what they thought of certain characters. i let them tell me it was really good but i like it more when they look a little stunned and say i forgot i was reading your book, which means they forgot i exist, which is very good news.
sometimes people i didn't ask will read my work and tell me i don't like it. and that is okay, you don't have to like it. but i look at the thing that they don't like and try to figure out if i care. i don't like that you don't capitalize. this one is common, and i have already thought about it. i do not care, it's because of chronic pain and frankly i like the little shape of small letters. you use teeth and ribs in all your work. actually that is very true. i don't know what's up with that. next time i will work to figure out a different word, thank you. you're whiny, go outside. someone said that to me recently and it made me laugh. i am on the whine-about-it website as an internet poet. you are in my native habitat, watching me perform a natural enrichment behavior. but i like the dip of whiny, how the word itself does "whine" (up/down, the sound out your nose on the y), but i don't know if i want to feel whiny. maybe next time i will work on it being melancholy, like what you would call a male writer's poetry.
repeated "good" advice clangs in a bell and doesn't hold a real shape, dilutes in the water. like sometimes you will hear "don't use said." you turn that around in your head and it bounces off the edges of your brain like it is a dvd screensaver. it isn't bad advice, but it feels wrong somehow, like saying easy choices are illegal! sometimes i will only use "said." sometimes i will just kick dialogue tags out to the trash. sometimes i make little love poems where the fact that i do not say "said" is very bad, and makes you feel bad in your body, because someone didn't say something. i am a contrary little shitbird, i guess.
but it is also good advice, actually. it is trying to say that "said" sometimes is clutter. it makes new writers think about the very-small words and very-small choices, because actually your work matters and wordchoice matters. "i know," you said. "i know," you sighed. "i know." we both know but neither of us use a dialogue tag, because we are in a contemporary lit piece.
it is too-small to say don't use said. but it is a big command, so it gets your attention. what are you relying on? what easy choices do you make? when you edit, do you choose the same thing? can you make a different choice? sometimes we need the blankness of said, how it slides into the background. sometimes we don't.
i usually say best advice is to read, but i also mean read books you don't like, because that will make you angry enough to write your own book. i also mean read good books, which will break your heart and remind you that you are a very small person and your voice is a seashell. i also mean you need to eat books because reading a book is a writer's version of studying.
my creative writing teacher in the 7th grade had a big red list of no! words and on it was SUNSET. RAZORS. LOVE. GALAXY. DEATH. BLOOD. PAIN. I liked that razor and love were tucked next to each other like birds, and found it funny that he believed we were too young to know the weight of razor in the context of pain. i hated him and his Grateful Dead belt, where the colored teddy bears held up his appraisal of us. i hated his no list. it is very good/bad advice. i wasn't old enough yet to know that when you are writing about death you are also writing about sunsets and when you write about love you are tucking yourself into a napkin that never stops folding.
back then my poetry was all bloody, dripped with agony when you picked it up. i didn't know there is nothing beautiful about a razor, nothing exciting about pain. i just understood sharpness, which he took to mean i understood nothing. i wrote the razor down and it wasn't easy, but it was necessary. that's what i'm saying - sometimes it's good advice, because it's not always necessary. and sometimes it is very bad advice, because writing about it is lifesaving.
hang on my dog was just having a nightmare. i heard that it is a rule not to write about dogs - in my creative writing mfa, my teacher rolled her eyes and said everyone writes a dead dog. the literature streets are littered in canine bodies. i watched the rise and fall of his ribs (there is that word again) and had to reach out and stop the bad dream. when he woke up he didn't recognize me, and he was afraid.
it is good/bad advice to say that poems and writing have to mean something. it is bad/good advice to say they're big feelings in small packages. it is better advice to say that when my dog saw where he was, he relaxed immediately, rubbed his face against me. someone on instagram would make fun of that moment by writing their "internet poetry" as a sentence that tumbles across a white page: outside it is sunset and my dog is still in a gutter, bleeding a galaxy out of his left paw. or maybe it would be: i woke the dog up/the dog forgot i loved him/and i saw the shape of a senseless/and impossible pain.
the dog is alive in this one, and he is happy. when i tell you i love you, i know what i said. write what you need to write, be gentle to yourself about it. the advice is only as good as far as it helps. the rest is just fencing. take stock of the boundaries, and then break them. there's always somewhere else you could be growing.
i love you, keep going.
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Violence, Kidnapping, Alastor eating bitches
Description: Alastor's X Wife!Reader who gets kidnapped and how he deals with that
Alastor's relationship with you is a strong one, the two of of you drawn to each other in an almost supernatural way
But you also trust each other's strengths and aren't prone to stepping in each other's fights
Regardless of how powerful you are
I got your pinkie fingers bby go kick his ass
Holds your shopping bags for you while you go kick ass
Unless of course you ask him to
He likes it when you fix his hair afterwards, preening like a giant rooster as you do
THE POINT IS-
It's not like Alastor spends all his time glued to your hip or sending you out with bodyguards
You can take a damn walk by yourself
You do have a target on back though, if not because of your own strength/actions, then because of your husband
So it's not unusual when someone tries to pick a fight with you
But when you're suddenly ambushed and kidnapped, against the fact that you fought hard to avoid it
Fucking holy weapons
That's new
Well I suppose you'll just have to wait for your husband to come and get you out of this mess
*spits out blood*
Not you bragging about how fucked your kidnappers are once Alastor gets there
He's already going to be mad that they kidnapped his wife, but the fact that they've now put hands on you??? Made you bleed???
Oh they're so fucked
So just sit back and look pretty while you wait for your boo to come and rescue you
And you do look pretty
Keep your damn hands off
Alastor knows something is up when you don't come home, knows that someone must've gotten to you
If the old geezer watched tv maybe he would've known a little sooner
Maybe he would've known that your little fight made the news
Tf was he gonna do?? Wait for it to show up in the papers??
BREAKING NEWS!! RADIO DEMON'S BABE WIFE GETS KIDNAPPED AFTER EPIC BATTLE!
But when Angel shows him that you've been kidnapped Alastor literally just-
Makes this face:
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Oh he's getting his wife back
RIP Angel's phone 😭
He's visibly very calm about the whole thing though, which makes the others even more worried
"Well then! I suppose I'll have to get Y/N back myself, won't I? You all wait here, I won't be long now~"
Alastor does give them a chance to give you back before he comes and hunts them down
It's one of the most terrifying radio broadcasts people have listened to but this is his WIFE we're talking about
On the inside he is VERY ANGRY
Even if they do bring you back he still eats them
Fuck them he never promised them anything
They took and HURT HIS WIFE
If they don't bring you back then they're going to be subjected to slaughter like they've never known before being eaten
Not him using his massive demonic form to rip apart their safe house
Anyone who doesn't know Alastor like you do will think he's being surprisingly playful about it all
But as his wifers you know he's raging by the look in his eyes 👀 not merely playing with his food
Not wifey just sitting back and admiring Alastor while he works 💅✨️
Damn this is really doing it for me
Admires how elegantly you stretch and rub your wrists after your bindings are undone, so graceful even after taking a beating
"Thank you, Alastor~ Right on time as always~"
He begs to differ
"Anything for you, my dear."
Won't really look at you until you grab his chin and force him to, Alastor giving you a guilty smile
Le kiss
Leans in to touch foreheads with you, the two of relaxing in each other's arms amongst the carnage
Casually licks the blood off your face to ruin the moment before taking your arm
"Now let's get you home, my darling~"
Doesn't leave you alone for the rest of the night, trying to hide the fact that he's fretting over you
You want to take a bath and get cleaned up? He'll help you!
You want to lay down and rest after a stressful day? He's actually pretty tired too so you two should go to bed together
Will 100% broadcast their screaming souls as a warning to anyone else who wants to try that little stunt again
Falls asleep to it actually, one arm wrapped around you as he drifts off so that when he wakes up, he'll know you're right there with him
He doesn't think any less of you, he's been beat before too
Don't remind him
Will absolutely call himself your hero for like a week straight and land himself in the doghouse by the end of it
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myfictionaldreams · 7 months
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Day 9: Size Kink - Ari Levinson
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Summary: Ari was your grumpy (handsome) boss, who never smiled at anyone. So why did he care so much if you smiled at someone else?
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, grumpy vs sunshine, arguments, size difference, size kink (Ari is huge in every way), showing off strength, manhandling, spit as lube, fingering, possessive, rough sex
masterlist 📚 
kinktober masterlist😈 
AO3 Link 
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It had been a long day already; the sun was beaming down, which meant the bar was packed to capacity, with endless drinks and money being swapped. You thrived on days like this, enjoying the perks an extra broad smile could get you from willing customers who hadn’t appreciated service with a smile. Today, there was one specific customer, Matt, who was sitting on a stool in the middle of the bar and had been complimenting you for the entire afternoon.
He was harmless and continuously gave you tips with every drink, so you plastered a great, broad, fake smile that ached your cheeks every time you went near him. Ari watched from the end of the bar at how you smiled towards the stranger and how the man smiled back, and the second your back was turned, his eyes would be searching your body greedily.
Ari’s hand tightened around the beer bottle to the point that he was close to shattering it and had to take a long breath through his nose to calm himself down. Yet, he continued to watch. He always used the excuse that because he was the boss, he needed to keep a close eye on the goings on in his establishment and his employees, but deep down, he knew there was another reason he was always sitting at the bar rather than in his office.
The liquor you needed for your requested drink was empty as you lifted it to show the customer with a closed-lipped smile, “need a new one”, you quickly explained before leaving out the back of the bar. 
All of the stock was kept in the cellar, so you descended the steps carefully, taking your time to have a quiet moment to yourself. Scanning the rows of liquid against the wall, you sighed, seeing that the one bottle you needed was on the highest shelf, which you would struggle to reach. Straining up on the tips of your toes, your arm stretched out as far as it could, reaching for the bottle, but a searing warmth burned through the clothes on your lower back as Ari pressed against it, using it as leverage to reach above you to grab the liquor easily.
You jumped at his sudden presence but were also not surprised, as he usually found an excuse to follow you throughout the bar. Peering up at him, you exclaimed, “God, Ari, you scared me. Wait, what’s that look for? What’s wrong?”.
He didn’t say a word, but you knew something wasn’t right by the angry scowl, which usually softened whenever you smiled up at him like you were attempting to do now. Unlike behind the bar, this smile was genuine, and the joy reached your eyes, making them appear as if they were twinkling. Ari would always do feats like this, showing off his staggering size and strength so that he could experience this smile to the point that he seemed to be always standing over you, with his towering height that made your neck ache, one of the few people to make you feel small in stature, dainty even, especially when he became all dominant and acting like the resident bodyguard for the bar. Everyone knew not to mess with the boss.
It was hard not to fall for him; sure that everyone who was attracted to a man fell in love with him as soon as they saw him sitting at the bar or over your shoulder. To be truthful, there were times when you faked not being able to lift a table or heavy pot of glasses just so that he could come and lift things whilst you oggled at his psychic, but he was happy to help, even though he always had that deep frown.
The frown that he was currently still looking at you with enough that it had you feeling slightly uneasy as you looked away to the alcohol in his hand, reaching for it. “Oh, thank you! Don’t think I would have been able to reach that anyway.” Your hand extended to grab the bottle, but he held it back and out of your reach.
Ari’s eyes darkened in colour as he stepped forward, and instinctively, you stepped back until you were pressed against the cool brick wall with his towering body hovering over yours, his arm resting above your head. Despite stepping away from him, the stance didn’t phase you. Once again, he was doing it to show off the size difference, and you made sure not to waver with your smile, still beaming up at him.
Ari’s shoulder-length hair fell to shadow his handsome face, and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through the soft strands and brush them behind his ears. Even though he may appear threatening, you trusted Ari with your entire life, and the two of you always seemed to be teetering on the edge of being flirtatious. Still, you’d never have the courage to make a move, mainly because he was your boss.
The giant man studied you for a long moment, inspecting your face to the point you became self-conscious until they lingered on your smiling lips.
“You need to stop smiling at him”, Ari demanded with his voice low and gravely. Your smile finally dropped as you released a choked laugh, causing your shoulders to shake with the force.
“What? Smiling at who?” you asked, dumbfounded. He gestures with his head, nodding towards the stairs and to the bar when it finally dawned on you who he was referring to. Crossing your arms over your chest, you continued, “What? Matt, the guy at the bar? He’s harmless, and didn’t you always tell us that we need to serve our drinks with a smile?” As you teased Ari, you raised onto your tiptoes to lean closer and gloat the broad smile that was back on your face.
He didn’t break, continuing to frown, but now his shoulders were tense. “You need to stop”, he growled, stepping even closer until you could feel the warmth from his chest, “You don’t know what he wants, so stop smiling at him; he’ll get his hopes up”.
“Oh, and you know what he wants, do you? You can’t be upset with me because I’m being nice to a customer, and what makes this smile different to all the others that I’ve given to the others?”. You’d come to the realisation that Ari was most likely jealous, and even though it made your heart pound in your chest and excitement wanting to burst from your smile, you had tried to act like you usually did. Even though seeing him being somewhat possessive and obvious with his feelings made you want to shout it from the rooftop.
“Not. With. Him”, Ari grounds out each word with enough venom that you almost wanted to shrink away.
“Fine”, you say with confidence whilst shrugging your shoulders, “So who am I allowed to smile at then? I like happiness and want to smile at someone who returns it. Who else am I supposed to do it with because you sure as hell don’t smile at me”.
Ari doesn't say anything, so you lift a hand and rest it on his shoulders before tapping with your fingers and resisting the urge to give the muscles that you could feel a good squeeze. “You need to relax a little, Boss, it’s fine. I won’t smile at him, I promise. Now, can I go back to work, please?”
All he does is grunt in answer, giving him a Neanderthal appearance as he holds out the bottle of liquor and moves away from the wall to provide you with room to move past him. Accepting the bottle, you thanked him genuinely before walking back towards the stairs with him only an inch behind.
Returning to the bar, you’d expected him to return to his seat at the end, but he stood behind you, staring at Matt with his arms crossed. You wanted to sigh but thought it best not to poke the bear, as they say, especially when he was so riled up.
Pouring the guy's drink, you passed it to him and stated the price, all without a smile. The customer didn’t look in your direction as he eyed Ari, asking, “What’s his problem?” All you did was shrug in response whilst handing out your hand still for the money. Instead of reading the situation and knowing when to keep his mouth closed, Matt made the mistake of muttering under his breath, “I bet he’s an asshole to work for”.
The money for the drink fell into the centre of your palm just as Ari suddenly was at your back, but you tried to push him back, feeling the heat already burning your face with anger as you pointed towards the door. “Get out”, you demanded confidently.
“What?” Matt shouted, astonished that you’d even say such a thing.
“You heard me; get the fuck out” The adrenaline was deciding your actions as you became increasingly angry at what he’d said about Ari. Slamming the money onto the bar counter, you pointed at the door again for emphasis.
Matt finally snapped, kicking back his stool and slamming his drink on the counter, “Are you fucking joking? I’ve just paid for this drink; I’m not leaving!”
Once again, you weren’t sure logic was in control of your body anymore as you did something so out of character it shocked even Ari. Reaching over the bar, you grabbed the drink and poured it over the guy's head before pointing at the door once more, “You don’t have a drink anymore. I’m not asking again. Get the fuck out of his bar, NOW. You don’t talk about the boss like that”. 
It was a rare day when you truly lost your temper, so the entire bar had quietened by this point and stared in anticipation. Thankfully, even though the guy looked ready to throw his chair at your head, he instead turned and stumbled out of the doors.
As the atmosphere began to return to normal, the realisation of what you’d just done came to you. Your fingers began to tremble as anxiety sat heavy in your stomach as you tried to take a deep, steadying breath.
That burning, warm palm returned to your lower back as Ari dipped his head to whisper into your ear, “My office, now.” Trying to ignore everyone else's stares, you moved past him as he nodded to the other bar staff to cover your area of the bar whilst he followed you out.
You walk, anger still prevalent even with the anxiety worsening as you realise that you’d technically assaulted one of the customers by throwing his drink at him. What if you get reported? What if Ari thinks you’ve gone too far?
You’re nervously chewing on your thumb when you reach his office at the back of the building. You looked around at the scarcely decorated room with a desk, two chairs and closed blinds so that it was only just illuminated by streaks of sunlight but nothing else, so it was dimly lit. Ari hardly ever used this room, which is why you knew you were in trouble, especially needing a private space to reprimand you so no one could hear if he wanted to shout.
Walking into the centre of the room, you jumped on the spot, turning towards the door that had just been slammed closed by your boss. He stalked towards you, head tilted low as he backed you into a wall like in the cellar.
“I’m so fucking done”, Ari seethed, a vein bulging in his temple and tense muscles lining his arms and shoulders.
You were initially unsure what to say, your lower lip trembling as the anger seeped away, and only the nerves remained. “I’m sorry, Ari, I shouldn’t have thrown the drink at him. I don’t know what I was thinking”.
You had lost confidence and lowered your face to look at the carpeted floor, but Ari was quick to grip your chin in his thumb and forefinger and tilt your face so you were looking back into his bearded face. His voice was low and steady as he spoke, “I am so fucking done with this bullshit cat-and-mouse game we have going on”.
This caught you off guard as you blinked away the anxiety, asking, “What?”
Ari dipped his face even lower, and you took a moment to appreciate how big he was and how much lower he had to make himself so that you were face to face. With him this close, you could smell the aftershave he’d sprayed onto his neck this morning, smelling spicy and had your mouth drooling.
“I’m your boss”, Ari interrupted your dirty thoughts, “It’s unprofessional the things that I dream about, but you make it so fucking difficult to remain your boss when you’re smiling all the time. I want to kiss that smile away so you can return to work and stop distracting me. But today, seeing you there shouting at that asshole for me. I can’t stay professional much longer, so here’s your chance. Leave and walk out that door right now, and we’ll never talk about this again, but if you stay”, his eyes lowered from your lips to assess your body in the darkness. “If you stay, I promise you there will be no other thoughts than my name coming out of your pretty little mouth”.
Ari gave you a moment to contemplate and decide. You, however, were not thinking at all, your mind was empty, and the only response was the warming of your cunt, clenching already around nothing as you knew there was no way you were leaving.
Your arms wrapped around his neck before any of your anxiety returned, pulling him down for a heated kiss. Mouths moving with need against the other, causing Ari to moan; actually, MOAN into your mouth as his lips instantly parted and warm tongue brushed against yours. His arms were around your waist, pulling you as close as possible until your breasts were squished against his firm chest.
It felt like your boss was completely surrounding you as his arms expanded over the area of your back, just as firm as his chest, and you could feel the muscles bulging beneath his plaid shirt. Your feet were suddenly off the floor as he lifted you into his arms, your legs securely wrapping around his waist as one of his arms rested beneath your arse as your back connected with the wall again.
He tasted so good, even though it mainly tasted of the beer he’d been drinking; you’ve fantasised about this moment for months. He was just as dominant as you’d predicted, his mouth forcing yours more open to caress his tongue further into your face, almost like he couldn’t reach far enough within and needed to feel every crevice. The hand that wasn’t supporting your weight then moved to your cheek, his long fingers stretching so far they wrapped around the back of your head as he tilted your head slightly to once again attempt to deepen the kiss.
Ari’s jean-covered hips then ground against yours, stoking the fire inside your cunt more. His actions were desperate, wanting to feel every single part of you. It was almost overstimulating to your senses because all you’d managed to do was keep up with the pace of his tongue and lips and stroke your fingers through his hair just as you wanted to do. But Ari, he was all over you, his mouth now exploring your throat, sucking and biting on the areas that made you moan more and send tingles between your thighs.
The sound of clothes ripping then echoed around the office as Ari had become frustrated with the amount of clothes you wore that was stopping his exploration. Your shirt disappeared with a single tear down the middle and then disintegrated onto the floor. Once again, he was showing off his strength, and you really didn’t care, completely and utterly, at this disposal, especially when his mouth was now sucking on your left nipple.
He lapped against the sensitive bud with his tongue flat, then sucked it into his mouth, a tight seal forming with his lips before gently biting with his sharp teeth, causing your back to arch and fingers to grip more firmly into his locks. Ari moved to the other breasts as his fingers then replaced his tongue with the wet breast, pinching and pulling until you were begging for him to touch you there.
Your mewls were not stifled at all, head tipped back and mouth wide open; nothing was filtering your volume, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you were thankful that the bar was so busy that the music and talking would hopefully cover your moans of joy.
“Ari! Please give me more!” Pulling on his slightly damp hair from the sweat, you forced his face away from your breasts so that you could devour his mouth. His hips thrust harder into yours, and even though you were both still clothed, you could feel the hardness waiting for you in his tented jeans.
Tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth,  Ari groaned and asked, “Tell me you want this, one last chance to change your mind”.
“I need this, Ari, don’t stop”.
Your back left the comfort of the wall as he began to carry you over to his desk, holding you up with one arm. The other wiped any objects onto the floor, giving him the area to lie across.
The wooden surface was cool and welcoming as he again started kissing you, both hands cupping your jaw, holding you firmly in place. Lower he moved, down your throat, collar bones and breasts. As he licked over your stomach, he finally reached to undo your jean button. As he kissed lower, he pulled the material down with him, and only when you felt startling bare did you realise that your underwear had been removed as well.
Sitting up onto your elbows, you silky commented, “You’re wearing too many clothes”. You’d wanted to explore his body with your mouth, but he was just so tall and muscular that you weren’t able to reach him even if you sat up entirely on the desk, so with a rush, you pulled on his shirt, attempting to help remove it from his body and then the same with his jeans. You noticed how his muscles were defined as they became revealed; his abs, covered in a sprinkling of hair, had your mouth watering to touch and lick, but you became distracted by what was between his legs.
Ari Levinson was fucking huge. It was definitely the most enormous cock you’d ever been with, and it shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. His shaft was thick, and a few veins bulged like he had in his temple when mad. The tip was bulbous, glistening in precum and a deeper shade of red than the rest of his cock. Even his balls that rested beneath his length seemed more prominent than usual, and for a fleeting moment, you contemplated if it was even going to fit.
Seemingly reading your mind, Ari grasped the base of his cock that seemed to throb as your eyes moved up and down it, “Don’t worry, Princess, it’ll fit”.
Looking up at him through your lashes, you wanted to tease him a little, so you leaned forward to kiss the tip, your lips becoming salty from his juices. As you licked up the taste, Ari hissed in a breath and pushed against your chest until you were lying lengthways against the desk once more.
As he had been before, Ari manhandled you with ease, lifting one of your legs until it rested on your shoulder. You thought he was going to start fucking you straight away; however, he was just giving his hand a better position. Whilst keeping his eyes on yours, Ari spits a glob directly onto your already-soaked pussy, collecting it with his index finger before pushing it into your cunt. Your back arched into the touch; even his fingers felt thick and made you feel full. He twirled his digit, doing this mostly to stretch and pleasure you. That could be for another time, but right now, he needed to fuck you but respectfully not hurt you either.
One finger turned into two as he added his middle digit, scissoring them both, which made your hole squelch from all of the liquids. One more finger was added, and you felt fuller than ever before. The entrance to your pussy burned slightly from having three of his fingers coaxing you wider, in and out slowly, whilst turning and opening your hole. Your thighs were trembling from the stimulation already, breaths hot and heavy as you gripped the edge of the desk above your head.
How did you even end up in this situation with your boss in his office, customers and staff just outside the door as his fingers pumped into you with expert ease to attempt to fit his cock.
Your leg dropped from his shoulder, but only so he could wrap them both around his waist as he moved closer, a hand next to your head whilst the other gripped the base of his cock as you realised he was finally, at long last, lining up with your throbbing cunt. Reaching you, your fingers dig into his shoulders, gripping him like you’d always dreamed of as his tip slotted to your entrance.
Slowly, he began to push in, and your cries turned desperate. It burned more than the three fingers; his cock was so girthy and thick that you had to concentrate on taking deep breaths to remain relaxed. Inch after inch, he pushed in, and even though the burn didn’t fade immediately, you already loved the sensation of it. It was intense but something only he could provide for you, and with time, your body adjusted, and soon you were trying to rock your hips. Even though he wasn’t even fully penetrated, his tip was pushing into your cervix.
“Ari, you’re so fucking big, Jesus Christ!” your mouth dropped open as high-pitched cries filled the thick, pleasured air.
For one beautiful second, Ari actually chuckled at your desperate reactions, wanting to stay in that moment forever, seeing you laid out beneath him like his own personal platter.
As your warm, gummy walls clenched around his cock did he snap out of his admiration. Still being careful, he moved in and out slowly and held onto your waist tightly to keep you from sliding down the desk with how tightly your cunt was hugging his cock.
Eventually, you became used to it a bit more, which meant that you began to beg for it harder, needing to feel him closer, so he dropped himself down until his lips were next to your ear and his hand around your throat to hold you still.
“You’re mine, do you understand that?” he growled with a promise never to let you go.
That beautiful grin he loved so much was suddenly beaming up at him, your fingers moving to grip the wrist that was golding your throat as you declared, “I’m all yours, Ari Levinson”.
“Fuck, I love that smile”, he admits between thrusts, his eyes unblinking so that he didn’t miss a single twitch of your face as it flooded with pleasure. However, his need to taste you took over once more as he kissed you deeply, groaning and squeezing your throat a little harder but not enough to cut off your air.
The wetness of your pussy leaked over your thighs as his desk wobbled with each thrust. Your entire body felt like it was on fire which all resonated down to your core, feeling it tighten to match the hardening in your gummy walls, suffocating his cock further in its harsh grip. 
“So big, you’re so damn big, Ari, fuck I’m going to cum”, you shouted, pulling on his hair to snap his head back so that you could breathe and shout out between thrusts. He leaned up on his arm to watch your reactions again, from the furrowed eyebrows, eyes wide and pupils blown, the swollen lips that were forming the perfect O shape as you finally came.
Your cunt had been stretched so wide that when you came, you could feel it more in your abdomen than the contractions that usually fluttered through your walls.  The orgasm, therefore, lasted longer because you were overstimulated and confused with the sensation. Still, even though you couldn’t necessarily feel how your pussy squeezed, Ari sure could as he cursed loudly, releasing your neck to slam his hand on the desk as he unexpectedly pulled out just as he began to cum.
Looking between your bodies, you watched in amazement as thick spurts of his seed shot out the end of his cock and coated your stomach. With his cock now resting over your body as he shouted through his orgasm, you could see that if he had been able to fit his entire cock inside of you, it would have reached your navel. It was that big.
As both of your moans quiet to just heavy breathing, your head dropped back onto the desk, arms and legs having no more energy, also collapsed to your side. Thankfully, Ari could see the exhaustion you were experiencing, and once he’d calmed down enough, he found a box of tissues on the floor and gently wiped away the mess he’d created on your stomach.
Peaking open an eye, you looked down your body towards where your boss knelt, “I hope you aren’t expecting me to go back to work.” your voice was thick and croaky as you smiled down at him. His blue eyes flicked up to your tired face as he raised a single eyebrow, midwipe, so you continued, “I don’t think I can walk, and you’ve ripped my shirt”.
Ari smirked, standing up again to throw the tissue into the bin. He looked your body up and down, “You know, you could just wear my shirt”.
“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’ll go down well with everyone like it wasn’t already obvious that we’ve come in here for a quick fuck”.
His body leans forward, hovering over yours, all bulging muscles and hulking size making you feel small again as he confidently states, “Well, they better get used to it. You’re mine, remember?”.
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ma1dita · 26 days
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BABEEE happy birthday!! (i'm so terribly late i'm so sorry) congrats on 23💖
🐥 so i'm having thoughts right now about luke x reader and physical affection. like maybe one of them being touch starved and always craving the other person's touch and the other person noticing it and doing it more? maybe from platonic (i will go down with best friends to lovers) to romantic, i'm just on this brainrot tonight
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
luke castellan x reader
a/n: back from the klerb but here with a classic 4am post 🥂 but the hangxiety wont let me rest until this is out! ill edit this in the morning... or not 😗
wc: 1.1k
It’s hard to miss what you’ve never had.
Luke Castellan was never a touchy guy. Sure, he’ll hold a new camper’s hand during welcome tours (especially the little ones who can barely keep up with his long legs; if they’re lucky they get a piggy back ride), and he won’t shy away from a clap on the back when his strategies for capture the flag bring his team to victory (they always do, mind you), and when he feels like it, he’ll even shove Annabeth playfully to show her he adores her (but she packs a punch now that she’s older).
It never really goes past that, and he’s never had to think too hard about it—physical touch.
He’s the one who takes care of others—a part of his nature like it is for Hermes’ cabin to take in unclaimed demigods. But something changed in the months that he’s gotten closer to you. At first, he’d bite his tongue at the way you’re so open to patting his cheek when he does something funny (which he doesn’t try to make a show of, but now…), how you choose to sit so close to him during bonfires that your knees touch (the Apollo kids could be singing about the heavens falling down on them for all he cares but he zeroes in on every word that leaves your lips), and the way you’d lock your fingers with him for a pinky promise after every little thing ‘to make sure it’s real’ (Luke didn’t understand the merit of a pinky promise over whether you could have his dessert for the next week if you took over arts and crafts with the kiddie campers for him; truthfully he’d give it to you anyway). It was unusual for him to have someone comfort him, to show care without a true reason. But he didn’t realize how much more it bothered him now that you wouldn’t even look him in the eye.
Silena and some of the other Aphrodite children had asked you the very defining question of, “Do you like Luke Castellan?” and having never thought of it that way, or being able to put your feelings for him in words instead of fingers in his belt loops or in the muss of his curls—that shit was terrifying!
You spent all Saturday afternoon at the docks with them belly down under the glare of the sun’s rays as they explained to you what the five love languages are. By the end of it, sunburn wasn’t the only reason you felt hot.
“Your love language is physical touch,” one of Silena’s older half-siblings—Connelly, says like he’s explaining that the sky is blue, “And Luke’s not that type of guy! Think he’s more acts of service…”
“Ooh, or words of affirmation….” another one of them muses, but the sound of your heartbeat tunes it all out. Well shit, have you been sending him the wrong signals? Or are there even any signals you want to send him? 
Nevertheless, in the matters of love or even the tiniest whisper of it—maybe there’s no one else you can trust with this stuff besides Cabin 10.
Wrong.
Absolutely wrong. Whatever the hell you’ve been convinced or whatever’s changed since last weekend—Luke just knows he hates it, and he’s angry. He’s angry at how you gasp in surprise every time you brush shoulders during archery practice when you used to let him fix your form, he’s angry at how you’ll squeeze campers’ shoulders to tell them they’re doing a good job carrying the strawberry crates—and all he gets is a mumbled ‘Thanks, Castellan’ when he stacks them up and takes your load.
Luke’s so terribly angry that Travis told him he’s been walking around like a big strawberry, face red and irritated—but not at you. 
He realizes he’s also angry at the fact that he can’t protect you from the onslaught of a rain cloud—or maybe it was the fact that you’re so okay with the rain touching your skin and seeping through your orange shirt like he wishes you’d let him. He’s angry at the way the wind blows your hair into your face and your fingers brush the strands away like he wishes he can. Most of all, Luke Castellan is angry that he didn’t know how good a simple touch could be until he lost it—before he even really got to appreciate yours.
You’re sitting on the opposite end of the row in the amphitheater laughing with your friends and the furrow in his thick brow is a tell-tale sign of his discomfort. Luke doesn’t dare to remember what it’s like before you to be honest—he’d rather give up Elysium instead of having you ignore him like this. He calls your name, a tinge of both anger and desperation until you look over at him, eyelashes kissing your cheeks. The hold you have on him transcends the physical touch of your fingers but he wants, no—needs you next to him.
“C’mere! Why are you so far away?”
Luke hopes it doesn’t sound pathetic, but a crooked grin splits across his face as soon as you make your way over, sitting down and crossing your legs away from him. It’s still too far, even if he can feel your breath on his shoulder.
“Did I do something to make you angry? I…” The words escape his mouth in a jumble—quick wit from his father escaping him, though he knows not to rely on that asshole, god or not. You mutter words that almost escape him too, and he leans in, chasing your hands and putting them in his own until they’re gentle and soft in his lap.
“No, no…. I just… don’t want to push your boundaries. I know you don’t like it when I’m too touchy,” and he thinks his heart clenches a little like how you’re squeezing his hands. Luke shouldn’t feel instant gratification from a subconscious action. He wants to know you mean it with him—that’s what he can’t put into words.
“I….like it when you do.”
You notice the way his fingers tangle tighter with yours, pinkys interlocking with yours. When he lets go, Luke wraps his arm around your shoulders until you’re able to laugh in the crook of his neck. He chooses to place a kiss on the corner of your mouth when your head sways to face him at the silly tune about centaurs and then you realize that Luke loves the way you love him. You wonder if he accidentally missed meeting your lips, but then the noise in your head quiets down when he pulls you closer, lips locking tenderly, intentionally—as they were always meant to.
You both hear a giggle that sounds a lot like tinkling bells belonging to children of Aphrodite. 
For once they were wrong about love. 
Luke’s tongue parts through your lips and meets your own like they’re in a long awaited embrace, dancing and devouring you from the inside out but this, you— are what he can rely on. This, your touch, and how he chooses to let it consume him, never letting go.
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wicchyy · 4 months
Text
—0.5 flipped ; james potter
sum: you’ve been obsessed with James since you met him, but he doesn’t feel nearly the same. then, he’s flipped.
warnings: James throwing his breakfast in the trash
notes: this was inspired by the movie ‘flipped’. delulu girls win!!! sorry for being a bit too long, this is different from my usual works !
These are all the things people know about James Potter; he’s a skilled quidditch player, one of the smartest students in your grade, a lightweight, and he can manage his time well between practice, classes, and parties.
But those things, they’re just surface stuff. These are what you know about James Potter; he has the most beautiful brown curls, hazel eyes that change between brown and green depending on the sunlight, a delirious laughter, and the most flirty drunk you’ve ever known.
Sirius introduced you to James during your second year. And since the moment you saw him, robes askew, chocolate smeared all over his cheeks, and glasses slanted on his face— you’ve been in love with him since.
Maybe it was love at first sight, the plausible explanation. Or perhaps it was obsession. Either way, you haven’t paid attention to anyone other than James Potter himself.
“Hey, Siri. Hi, Remus. Have either of you seen James? I thought you lot finished practice minutes ago.”
Sirius nodded, chewing down the rest of his waffles before replying. “Mhm. Doing extra rounds, Prongs looks a bit stressed on the field today.”
“Perfect!” You clapped your hands together, “I’ll just bring some breakfast down for him.”
“Actually, Y/n! I don’t think you should—“ Remus interferes.
“Don’t worry, Remus. I’ll be sure to get two waffles. I know he gets hungry after practice.”
Remus tried to protest again, but Sirius waved him off with a look that said ‘what can we even do to prevent it?’
In the middle of December, snow covers the Hogwarts ground. You’re careful as you hold onto the napkin that holds James’ breakfast. The quidditch field isn’t far off the castle grounds, so you make haste of your movements and quickly head to the entrance of the Gryffindor locker rooms.
“James?” You shout, stepping inside until you see the one and only locker door open and the curly headed boy lying on the wooden bench in the middle of the room.
He immediately stands up, the voice all too familiar for him to not flinch. “Y/n?”
You appear in front of him with a wide smile, grinning happily as you set the breakfast in front of him on the bench. “Hi! You didn’t come for breakfast so I asked Siri where you where and he mentioned you’re practicing extra by yourself. So I figure you’d be—“
“Y/n!” James shouts louder.
“.. So I figured you’d be hungry.” You finished, your voice lower this time like you’d been caught red handed at something.
“Thanks. But no thanks.” He smiles forcefully. He grabs at the napkins holding the waffles and two pieces of strawberry, crumpling it in his hands and aiming it for the big black bin at the corner of the room.
Of course it lands perfectly inside, and he huffs an angry breath as he takes in your flushed, ashamed look.
“Look, just like you noticed, I wasn’t at breakfast. Because I don’t want breakfast. I’m not in the mood, yeah, Y/l/n? And I don’t need you trailing after me like a lost fucking puppy you want to feed breakfast. I’m not your anything, understand?”
Harsh. His words struck you in the gut. Maybe you should’ve listened to Remus earlier. James had never been practicing late unless he was ordered to. And you should’ve remembered it was winter as well. No one would willingly practice more quidditch than required in the harsh December winds.
“I— I’m sorry.” Your face flushed. You had to admit, you’d never been so embarrassed quite like this moment before. “I thought it’d be a nice thing.”
James stood up, picking up his towel, a spare shirt, and his knit beanie and stuck it in his locker before banging it roughly.
“If I haven’t made myself clear all these years, Y/n, let me make it clearer. I’m not interested.” He scoffed. “And I won’t be fucking interested because you bought me breakfast.”
You were left standing in embarrassment. Your eye making contact just a second with James, then to the bin where the breakfast you had bought for him was thrown in.
“Just back off, Y/n. I mean in.”
James had been feeling pretty guilty for the whole week. Yes, he was annoyed by you at the moment and yes, he’s always been annoyed by you. But all the times he’s ever been annoyed with you, none of those times has he said something like that. And after careful realisation, he’s understood that his words may have hurt you a tad bit.
He wants to apologize, but he doesn’t know how. Especially not to you. So he doesn’t. James doesn’t apologize for weeks, and then a month, and then he finally comes to terms with the fact that his brain somehow misses your annoying face, your annoying voice, and your annoying personality always annoying him.
“I have a question.” James interrupted his friends who were mountain deep in their homework.
“Hm.” Sirius shot lowly while he closed his subject book, “Go on. Think I’m done for the day.”
Remus shot his eyes at the interaction between his friends, leaning back on his seat to pay attention to James.
“So, you lot know about the incident a month ago, yeah?”
Sirius scoffed, “Mate, the bin waffle? Course we know!”
“Not really something to brag about, Prongs.” Remus chimed in.
“Look, I know. I’ve done some thinking and—“
“You wanna apologize to her?”
James stayed silent, “Well, I—“
Remus shot his friend a look of pity, “Honestly, you should’ve done it months ago. We know you may not like her, but she’s still mine and Pads’ close friend. And yes, she’s done so many things to annoy you but ..”
Sirius continued, “But it was a really shit thing to say. And you were fucking rude! I mean honestly, Prongs! Throwing out the waffles? Not necessary!”
“I know, I know. I’ve been feeling pretty bad about it recently and I want to apologize, really. But I dunno— things are just confusing.”
“How is it confusing? You just need to walk over to her and apologize.” Remus shrugs.
“That’s not it, Moony. It’s more confusing, like— I don’t even know how to explain it, y’know. Like, I used to be so fucking annoyed and pissed when she’s around. But now, it’s like somethings missing. Something like .. her.”
Sirius scoffs, “Shut the fuck up!”
James looks confused, “What—?”
“Shut up!”
“Literally not saying a word.”
Sirius stands up, “James Potter!” his hands banging on the table until the librarian is ordering him to calm down.
Remus looks up at him and pulls Sirius’ hand to sit back down at his chair. “Maybe you should tell him quietly.”
“I love how much you don’t notice, mate. You’ve got a crush on her, Prongs!”
James scoffed, his arms immediately crossing. “No I don’t.”
“Yes, you very much do.” Remus replied.
Sirius smiles, “You may not have liked her when she was bothering you, but you sure are thinking of her when she’s gone.”
“That’s nothing. It’s just cause I feel bad.”
“No you don’t!”
“I actually do, Pads. That’s why I’m bringing this up.”
Sirius scoffs with a wide smile, “No you’re bringing this up because you need to talk about it.”
“Well— yes. Because I need advice on how to apologize.”
“No, mate. Prongs, you’ve totally got a crush on her!”
“I don’t!”
“You’re so stubborn, mate. You know that saying ‘you lose them and then you know’? Thats you!”
Remus interjects, “Actually, the saying is ‘you don’t realize what you’ve got till it’s gone’. But yes, I do think it resembles this situation.”
“It doesn’t resemble anything. Besides, if she is here right now I’m positive I’d be annoyed just the same. I just feel bad for the .. waffle incident.”
“Wrong. Don’t believe it.”
Sirius looks across the table where James is and gives him a dumbfounded look. “Alright, fine. If you really think that, then what d’you say to a bet, huh? We prove that you’ve got feelings for her and if we succeed you pay for all your drinks whenever we go out for a whole month.”
James rolls his eyes, “And how would you prove that? She’s not even talking to me.”
Remus shoots Sirius a coy smile, the gears in his head turning as he makes up a plan in his head. “Well we’d just apologize to her for you and ask her to hang out with us. Then we’ll see your reactions and … other things.”
“Perfect plan!” Sirius chimes excitedly.
“I don’t agree to all of this.”
“That’s cause you’re scared to show us you actually do have a crush on Y/n.”
“One, I don’t. And second, fine. I’ll agree. But if this doesn’t prove anything and I’m right all along that I do not have a crush on her, you both will be doing my Arithmancy for a month.”
“Really? Why’d you even take that elective?” Sirius scoffs.
James smirks and extends his hand for a shake, “Deal?”
Remus shakes James’ hand quickly as his boyfriend beside him makes a sound of protest. “Moony! It’s Arithmancy, I thought we’d just have a counter agreement.”
“Come on, Pads, I’ll be doing all the work anyways.”
You clutched your books tightly, the familiar weight providing little comfort as you walked the corridors of the castle. Resentment and annoyance simmered within you since the incident with James.
As Sirius and Remus approached you after class, your expression soured. "What do you two want now?"
Sirius cleared his throat, putting on a cheery facade. "Hey, Y/n! Prongs wanted us to extend his apologies again for the breakfast thing. He's really sorry, you know?"
Your eyes narrowed at Sirius. "Sorry? James is sorry for tossing away the breakfast I brought for him without a second thought?"
"Yeah, he's been beating himself up about it. Really wants to make it right," Remus chimed in, attempting to sound convincing.
Your frustration reached its peak. "Is he? It's easy to be sorry now, isn't it? But where was his remorse when he threw the waffles in the bin like it was nothing? Tell James I don't need his apologies.”
Sirius and Remus exchanged a quick glance. Remus spoke softly, "Y/n, we understand how you feel, but Prongs is really trying to make amends. It might help if you could give him a chance to apologize properly."
"Yeah," Sirius added, his tone earnest, "We all miss hanging out together, and Prongs, he genuinely wants to make things right. Look, we’re all hanging in the commons just after classes are done.”
You hesitated, torn between your anger and their earnest plea. After a moment of contemplation, you sighed. "Fine, I'll be there. But not because of James. I'm doing this because both of you are my friends. And I’ve missed hanging."
As you walked away, Sirius and Remus exchanged relieved smiles, hoping that this hangout might just make them win the bet.
i - reconciliation
You sat in one corner of the Gryffindor common room, a book in hand, although your mind was elsewhere. Sirius and Remus hovered nearby, trying to create a relaxed atmosphere, but the tension lingered like a thick fog in the room.
When James entered, your heart skipped a beat. His eyes fleetingly met yours before darting away, a visible unease surrounding him.
"Hey, Y/n!" Sirius exclaimed cheerfully, attempting to break the heavy atmosphere. "We’ve been thinking of names for Moony’s new owl!"
"Yeah .. definitely that," Remus added, striving to mask the tension in his voice.
James cautiously approached, his gaze finally meeting yours. "Y/n, can we talk?" His voice was quiet, carrying an earnest plea.
You hesitated momentarily, then nodded, reluctantly setting aside your book and following James to a quieter corner of the room.
"I'm sorry, Y/n," James began, his voice laced with genuine regret. "I was thoughtless and I hurt you. I don't expect forgiveness, but I want you to know I'm really sorry."
As James spoke, his eyes held a raw sincerity that tugged at your heartstrings. The hurt remained, but you found yourself softening, unable to resist the depth of emotion in his gaze. Your own feelings for him, buried deep within, began to stir, making forgiveness a more feasible option.
"You did hurt me, James," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But..." You hesitated, your resolve faltering as emotions swirled within you. His eyes, filled with remorse, seemed to tug your emotions. "I appreciate the apology. And I... I forgive you."
Meanwhile, Sirius and Remus tried to lighten the mood by engaging everyone in different activities. Yet, in the corner where you and James stood, the emotions were palpable, the unspoken tension slowly dissolving with your admission.
Conversations flowed more easily throughout the evening, punctuated by shared smiles and lingering gazes between you and James.
Beneath the surface, an unspoken understanding seemed to grow between you and James, sparking a flicker of hope for reconciliation.
Remus and Sirius settled into a quiet couple, minding their own business. You took the moment to excuse yourself to avoid anymore awkwardness. You’ve never been in the situation without being so all up in James’ business. James watched you leave, a mix of relief and gratitude evident in his eyes.
ii - jealousy
“What do you guys think of Cassius Flintwood?” James broke the silence at his table. His friends looked up from their work, giving James a puzzled expression.
“Nothing. Other than he’s probably the saving grace of Ravenclaw’s abomination quidditch team.” Sirius shrugged.
“Yeah, that. And he tutors Marlene, oh and Y/n— wait, are you asking cause you’re seeing him tutoring Y/n?”
Sirius gasps, immediately turning around to see where James’ eyes are making intense eye contact to. “Prongs, you’re jealous. Christ, this is perfect! Might as well just go get drinks right now, cause we’ve won!”
James rolls his eyes, head making contact with the wooden table as he lays his head down. “Shut up, Pads. I’m not jealous, jus’ asking.”
“Mhm. Definitely.” Remus chuckles.
“I’m so confused with everything. I apologized to her, we’re good. Why’s she .. I dunno, distancing herself still?”
“You dimwit.” Sirius says with a hint of shock, his hand slapping the top of James’ head. “You have a big ego James Potter. D’you honestly think she’d just go back to obsessing over you?”
James lifts his head up and rolls his eyes “No, that’s not what I meant. Just—“
“Look, mate,” Remus interferes, “If you’re that bothered by her and Cassius just go over there and study with them. Sure he won’t mind.”
“What? I can’t do that.”
Sirius narrows his eyes, “So you’re admitting that it does bother you?”
“No! She’s just having a tutoring session.” A tutoring session that involves Cassius touching her arm and making her laugh. She’s probably not learning anything right now. James’ annoying head thinks.
“Then stop looking at them.” Sirius warns.
“Y’know what, I’m tired. Might just fit a nap in before my late classes.” He begins to stand and collect his things. Just before putting everything inside his satchel, an idea pops into mind.
James glances at the thick Potions book beside him along with other books stacked below it. He lays his hand flat on the wooden surface and gives it a small shove, making the stack of books clattering on the floor and making a loud echo throughout the library.
Sirius just scoffs at his friends’ action, meanwhile a smile plays at Remus’ lips, clearly understanding the dumb little trick that James has just performed.
In a second, your eyes landed on James for almost the tenth time. When you see him finally collecting all the books from the floor, you make eye contact. His face is red, a hint of embarrassment showing on his cheeks. A small smile twitches on your lips, trying not to let it show to James.
James kept a steady hand in the table and lifted himself up, quickly putting his books inside his satchel and making haste of his exit from the library.
“Think we’ve got this bet in the bag, Pads.” Remus says.
iii - realisation
The Quidditch pitch resonated with the energy of practice, but James's mind was elsewhere as he maneuvered through the air on his broom. Sirius watched from the sidelines, unable to ignore James's distracted flying.
"Oi, Prongs, you’re flying like you’ve got a Bludger lodged in your head. What’s going on?” Sirius remarked, concern etched into his tone.
James landed his broom, "Just not in the zone today, I guess," he muttered, trying to downplay his disarray.
Sirius crossed his arms, gaze unwavering. "It's about Y/n, isn't it?"
James faltered, caught off guard by Sirius' directness. "Maybe," he admitted, a tinge of regret lacing his words.
Sirius arched an eyebrow, probing gently. "You miss her, don't you?"
James sighed, the weight of his unresolved feelings palpable. "It's more than that, Sirius. I've been a complete prat to her all these years," he confessed, his voice tinged with remorse.
Sirius's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You mean treating her like a pest?"
James nodded, guilt weighing heavily on him. "Exactly. I never gave her a chance and, Christ, I feel awful for it. She's been nothing but a good friend, maybe a tad obsessive but .. I've been too blind to see it."
“It’s fine, mate. Least you’ve figured it out now. Who knew the waffle incident would’ve caused this, huh?”
"I dunno though,” James admitted, a mix of regret and uncertainty clouding his thoughts. "It's like realizing something you should have known all along."
Sirius gave his friend a coy smile, "Give yourself time, mate. Just remember, she's not going anywhere. Maybe it's a good thing to figure it out now, yeah?"
James nodded, a mix of emotions swirling within him. With Sirius's encouragement, James readied himself to get back on his broom.
iv - confession
The first thing James saw when he entered the common room was you. Sat there in your too big sweater and a book huddled in your lap. His heart beats nervously as he walks closer to try and calm himself down.
“Y/n!" James greeted, trying to hide the hint of nerves in his voice.
You glanced up from your book, smiling warmly at his approach. "Hey.”
Taking a seat beside you, James fiddled with the sleeve of his robe, trying to find the right words. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. Reflecting, you know?" he started, eyes darting to meet yours.
You raised an eyebrow, curious about where this was going. "Reflecting about what?"
James let out a small chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, you see, I've had this knack for making a right mess of things. Especially when it comes to... certain people."
Your lips curved into a small smile, sensing the playful tone in his words. "Certain people?”
"Right, so I've been a bit dim, maybe blind even. Overlooked something that's been there all along."
"James Potter, are you about to confess your undying love for someone?"
James laughed, a touch of color rising to his cheeks. That laugh that you could get high on no matter the situation. Well, it's not quite as dramatic as that, but..." James took a breath, looking straight into your eyes. "Maybe I've been a bit of a fool. Y/n, you uh … , are more than just a friend to me. You're, uh, rather important."
Your smile widened, realizing the sincerity behind his playful demeanor. "Oh really? Important, am I?" You teased lightly.
He nodded, his smile widening. "Yeah, you are. I guess what I'm trying to say is... I rather like having you around, you know?"
Your smile softened, this was the moment you’ve dreamt for probably millions of times. Truthfully it wasn’t as dramatic as you’d expect. But having to see James in his awkwardness, words falling clumsily from his mouth and making eye contact with you, it was a moment you’d dream of. That was how much you were in love with the boy.
"As long as you mean it, Potter."
💌 thanks for reading lovie! support me by reblogging <3
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urdepressedslut · 9 months
Note
Hello lovely,
I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)
Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky
Please. That would be nice.
Take care honey
oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰
Love Hurts
♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.
♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this
main masterlist
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+
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Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.
It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.
It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.
That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.
“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.
You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.
“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.
He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.
“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.
“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.
He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.
“Not really.” He admitted.
You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.
“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.
“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.
You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.
“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”
His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.
“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.
“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.
But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.
“Like what?”
You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?
“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.
“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.
You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.
“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”
“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.
“No, no Buck listen—”
That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.
“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”
You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.
“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.
Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.
He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.
Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.
“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”
You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.
Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.
“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.
You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.
“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.
Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.
Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.
“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.
“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.
Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.
“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.
“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”
Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.
“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.
Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.
“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.
Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.
“Bucky I—”
“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.
Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.
Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.
“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.
You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.
“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.
Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.
“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.
He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.
“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.
You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.
“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.
Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.
“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.
Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.
Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.
God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.
You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.
Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.
You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.
"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.
He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.
Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.
“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.
Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.
“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.
Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.
“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.
You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.
“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.
Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.
“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.
You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.
Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.
“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”
You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.
“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.
Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.
“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”
“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.
His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.
Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.
You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.
Yeah… just one more day.
You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.
Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.
You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.
The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.
You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.
You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.
Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.
You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.
You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.
You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.
You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.
Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.
“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.
You furrowed your brows, looking him over.
“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.
You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.
“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.
You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.
“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.
You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.
“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.
He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.
You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.
Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.
Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.
“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.
“He hates me.” You mumbled.
Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.
“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”
“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”
You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.
“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.
Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.
You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.
He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.
“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.
He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.
Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.
“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.
“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”
He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.
Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.
Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.
“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.
“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.
You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?
“Then why?”
“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.
The anger was approaching.
“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”
You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.
He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.
“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”
You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.
“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.
You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.
“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.
You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.
“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.
“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”
You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.
“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.
It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.
“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.
“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.
“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.
“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.
“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.
“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.
Like he could finally breath.
“Why?” He wondered.
You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.
“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.
His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.
“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.
You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.
“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.
“Never again— I promise.”
This time, he wouldn’t break it.
to be added to a taglist
TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano
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wonderlandwalker · 4 months
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After All These Years | Finnick Odair x Reader
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THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: You think he no longer cares, and he thinks you're better off without him. But the reaping for the 75th hunger games puts a dent in both of those thoughts
Content Warnings/Tags: Angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, insinuations of smut, kissing, once again not proofread
Requested by @rottingpeache: absolutely need to see enemies to lovers with finnick. “I really don’t like you.” “And I really don’t believe you.”
Word Count: 1k
A/N: No clue if this is actually enemies to lovers or just a poor attempt at it. I'm gonna go take a nap now but there is more coming cause the requests sparked something in me again so thank you to everyone who sent them!!
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None of you had expected it to happen, how could you? But you've learned by now there is no point in fighting it either. So when you heard Mags’ name being called out and you volunteered in her stead, you suppose it was simply out of habit. In a world like this, the only thing that makes you feel like you are surviving is helping others do the same thing. As you stepped forward you could see the cameras zooming in on your face, trying to capture every expression you were making. You saw the cameras do the same for Finnick. Years of being in an unwelcome spotlight had made his poker face almost unbreakable, but the small furrow of his eyebrows and the twitch in his gallant smile told you everything you needed to know.
It wasn't until the next day that he first spoke to you. Over the years you would see each other, of course, you would talk. But at all the events and all the parties you did nothing more than exchange pleasantries. But now he came out of your peripheral vision and cornered you against the wall behind you with his broad arms.
“What were you thinking, this might be the stupidest thing you've ever done.” His demeanour seemed angry, he seemed serious. But you had no reason to match it, you just wanted to get under his skin like he got under yours.
“Be careful what you say, you might actually be the stupidest thing I’ve done.” you wondered if he remembered, if he remembered the night you had spent together so many years ago, it had been the best night of your life, and you had no idea if he even remembered. If he did, he didn't let it show.
“Did you even think it through? You survived the arena once, and only barely, what makes you think you’ll make it out alive again.” His voice was a low rasp, and if you didn't know better, you'd say he sounded upset. But you knew better, Finnick had shown you his true colours when he started avoiding you, and you did remember that.
“I wasn't thinking, how could I? All I could think about was Mags having to go through it all again, you more than anyone else know she deserves better.” you were looking him in the eyes now, and it took all of your willpower not to melt. “My games weren’t that long ago, I did it then and I’m still here, I can do it again.” He stepped closer to you, eliminating the remaining space between your bodies, his chest against yours, and you could feel his heart skip a beat as he spoke.
“Exactly, I was there, and it damn near broke me too. I was there to piece you back together. But I won’t watch it happen to you again, I can’t let it happen. Because what if I’m not there this time, what if I'm not there to put you back together.” There was a stark contrast between his face and his voice. As you looked at him you saw his eyes soften, and it gave you a glimpse of the Finnick you once knew. But his voice was still filled with anger, and it snapped you back to reality.
“And how would you know what I can and cannot handle.” You were challenging him now, but he had you matched.
“Because I know you. Even if you don’t believe so, I know what youre like, I know how you think. You might believe I forgot, that I ignore you and go on with my life as if nothing happened. But if you were to actually think for one second you would see that I’m simply doing what's best for you, I just want what’s best for you but now you’ve gone and ruined all of it in one day. 
You’re at a loss for words, because maybe he was right, maybe you had gone and messed up everything with a single sentence at the reaping. But maybe everything was finally making a turn for the better, because for the first time, he was telling you he cared. And you’re thankful to finally see his thoughts shine through, but you’re overwhelmed too. So you turn around, you turn away from him, wanting to escape the confrontation. Except he’s not letting you go, not this time
“I really don’t care what you think Finnick.” You weren’t sure if you believed your own words, but you needed to get away from him.
“And I really don’t believe you.” You tried shrugging him off again, and you were about to turn away from him when you felt him grab onto your arm and pull you into him. As you looked up you could feel his eyes fixed on yours.
And so you do the only thing you can think of, you do the thing you want most in this moment right here, you kiss him. You tell yourself that consequences be damned, because even if he will hate you for it, even if you’ll regret it later, at least you have this one moment to get yourself through it, at least you didn't let your fears of losing him completely win this time.  You kiss him as if everything will be okay, because when you feel his lips start to move in sync with yours, it is. 
For a moment you think everything will resolve itself and you and Finnick can live together in a small house near the beach. For a moment you forget how much you hate him for everything he put you through. Because in this moment, if life could be like this moment, you’d forgive him for all of it. And you don't know it yet, but he’s even more scared than you are.
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patscorner · 1 month
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FAMILY DINNER PART2
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Summary: Chris joins your family for dinner for the first time and it does not go as planned
Tw: Swearing, physical altercation, mentions of blood, verbal arguing, panic attack mentions of alcohol use, mentions of ed, lmk if I missed something
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The rest of the dinner was just as awkward as you'd thought it'd be. You can't really come back from your father implying you and your boyfriend just fucked in the bathroom of your childhood home, at the first family 'reunion' in 2 years.
So there you sat, eating your food in silence, waiting -no- begging, that someone cut the tension.
And finally someone does. And as they say, careful what you wish for.
"How many plates have you had, dear?" Your mom asked, looking up from her plate. You look back at her, before glancing at your plate and back to at her again.
"This is my second." You say, mouth full of food. You were thankful that people took your mother's talking as an invitation to also continue their conversations.
"Maybe we should slow down, you know? Save room for dessert, which you clearly don't need." She smiles, as if what she said was the best piece of advice she'd ever given anyone.
Her comments always bothered you, no matter how much you were told to ignore them. But when it came to your weight, it hurt the most. The comments were the worst in high school, as you were a little heavier than the average petite high schooler. But it was never as serious as your mom made it. So when you were a sophomore in high school, you developed an eating disorder, where you couldn't eat even if you tried, where you spent hours crying in front of the mirror, wishing you were skinnier to fit your mother's impossible expectations.
You fought that battle for years, 3 years to be exact. Your mom couldn't help because she saw nothing wrong with what you were doing. She would say, 'It's worth it.' And when you're young, you tend to believe everything your parents say because they'd 'never hurt you.' So after you moved out, Chris helped you get help, and you won your long and cruel battle. Obviously, you still have your days and your moments, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it used to be. Not with your new family. People who actually cared.
"S'cuse me?" You say, your voice laced with agitation.
"Well, honey, you don't want to get fat again, do you?" She said, shoveling broccoli into her mouth.
You had stopped chewing completely, making sure you heard her correctly. You looked over at Chris, who was looking at your mom with his jaw clenched. You look back at your mom and out your hand on Chris's thigh as to tell him to relax.
You felt him put his hand over yours and squeeze, a symbol of reassurance.
You sit back in your seat, looking at your plate in defeat. Guess you were done for the night. But your dad wasn't. In fact, your dad was drunk.
"Oh, honey, leave her alone. She's not nearly as huge as she used to be." He slurred, taking another sip from his beer.
"Okay, this isn't neces-" you start, only to be cut off by your parents. Shocker.
"What do you mean? I mean, look at her, David. She's just as big as she was in high school." You mom says gesturing to you.
Your heart dropped, anger and embarrassment filling your veins. "What the fuck, mom?!" You cry out. "Not only is that something you shouldn't say about people, especially your fucking kid, but I'm also right in front of you. At least have some decency to shit-talk me in private." You remove your hand from your boyfriends lap.
Your mom looks at you in shock, and your dad squints at you. "Woah, woah, relax dear. It's not only your fault. You can't help it." She said, reaching for your hand.
You pull your hand away, a look of disgust covering your face. "I don't want to hear that, mom, why's my weight always been a big fucking obsession of yours?" You snap. You feel Chris's hand on your thigh, which you push off quickly. Usually, when you're angry, the last thing you wanted was to be touched.
"It's not my fault. You were huge. I was trying to help you. Nobody wants a pig as their bride, y/n." She spits. Her words feel like daggers, stabbing into your heart.
"You weren't trying to help. You were doing this for yourself. You never cared about it. You only did it because it made you look good to have skinny, petite children. I'm not you or any of them." You gesture to you siblings. The conversations had stopped by now, all of them watching as you and your parents bickered. Embarrassing. "You're a selfish bitch, who never cared about anybody else but herself a-"
"Hey! You watch how you speak to your mother!" Your dad stands up, and instinctively, so did you and your siblings. James and Peter were the first up, while Julia walked over and made sure Maya wasn't in the room.
Nick, Matt, and Chris all stood up too, but they weren't sure what to do, which you would've found funny, but considering the circumstances...
"Let's all relax, okay." Peter attempts to butt in. He's always been so soft-spoken, but if he needs to, he'll beat the shit outta someone. You knew what he was capable of. You'd seen it when your first boyfriend cheated on you.
Your dad directed his attention to Peter. "You shut the fuck up. You have no room to speak because you're a sorry excuse for a son." He drunkenly pointed at Peter.
"You're talking. You can't even see straight half the time, let alone be eligible to give advice." James, your younger brother spits.
Ah, you'd taught him well.
"You watch your mouth before I knock you the fuck out." Your dad spits, and that seems to shut James up. It breaks your heart knowing your father hadn't changed, and when you left, probably laid hands on your younger siblings. And it appears as though Peter's heart broke, too.
Peter stepped closer to your dad, with the same face of anger you'd seem many times before. "You hit them too, Dad? After what you promised!?" He said, his voice raised.
It was all too much. There are too many memories, too many flashbacks. There are too many similarities of past events.
"O-okay, Peter, relax." You attempt, knowing how fast this could escalate. You hold Chris's hand and squeeze tightly.
"Yeah, listen to the pig, Peter." Your father gritted his teeth.
"With all due respect, sir, I'm gonna need you to stop calling your daughter a pig." You hear an unexpected voice. Chris.
Your dad whips his head, staring at Chris with his eyebrows raised, unimpressed. Little did he know, Chris played hockey, and his brothers, who wouldn't hesitate to jump in, also played hockey.
"Chri-" You start.
"No, no, I'd like to hear what he has to say." Your father mocks.
"No! No, please let's just sto-" you get cut off again.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, Y/N." Your dad yells, taking very quick steps to you.
Chris stood in front of you, Peter and James behind your father.
"Move." He growled at Chris.
Chris sucked his teeth, with fake disappointment on his face. "Sorry, can't do that one, sir."
Your dad huffed, allowing Chris to smell every sip of alcohol he'd drunk. "Move." He stated again.
Chris shook his head. "That's my daughter! Get the fuck out of the way, tough guy."
Chris cocked his head. "Really, because based off what I've seen, you sure don't talk to her like it." He spoke, his voice calm, but stern.
That was it. Your dad snapped. He swung his fist, hitting Chris in the nose. "Dad! What the fuck!" You say.
You watch as Chris doubles over, holding his nose, followed by yelling from everyone in the room. You can't understand anything, but you do know that your dad's got his hands around your collar and is holding you close to his face.
You feel the tears start to fall as the scent of alcohol burns your nose. "You're a little bitch, letting this puny excuse of a man speak to me like that."
"Let her go, dad!" James screamed, followed by Peter's yelling.
You look over and make eye contact with your mom. She stood there, arms crossed, not a single expression on her face. She just let it happen.
Your dad shook you. "LOOK AT ME." He shouted in your face. You closed your eyes, as tears began to fall.
"CHRIS NO!" Nick yells. That's all you hear before you dropped. You didn't realize he was choking you until he let go. You look up and see Chris on top of your dad, landing blows like he if were in a hockey game. Your dad got a few heavy punches in, too, as you expected.
Chris had a bloody nose, a bloody lip, and crimson knuckles. Blood stained his big hands, and you couldn't tell if it was his or your father's.
Matt and Nick finally managed to push Chris out of the house, leaving you and your family. Your dad was still screaming drunk profanities, while James made sure you were okay. Peter and your mom held your dad back from chasing your boyfriend.
You had walked out of the dining room and went to sit on the stairs. Tears streamed down your face as you felt yourself slip into a familiar but unfamiliar trance. You were completely unaware of your surroundings at this point, so lost in your brain that the rest of your body was just frozen.
You don't know how long you are disassociating for, but you heard muffled shouting until you didn't. The yelling was replaced with ringing, something your brain did as a coping mechanism, mostly when you were young and hiding with your siblings in the bathroom while your dad trashed your home.
"-aby, can you take a deep breath from me?" You look up, but your vision is blurred, and you can't make out who's speaking - or anything for that matter.
You blink slowly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It usually took you a while to come back to reality during these moments.
"Can someone get her a cup of water?" You hear the voice again, and despite your yearning to speak, you can't get any words out. Your mouth opens, and you try to speak, but it comes out more of a choked whine.
"Shh, I know, sweetheart, it's okay." Chris wipes the tears coming for your cheeks. Your pupils were enlarged, and your eyes were open, but you couldn't see.
"Thank you." Chris muttered as Matt handed him a cup of ice water. "Here, baby." He put his hands in the icy water, shaking them, so his hands are damp. He took your hands, which had a death grip on your hoodie, and rubbed his cold fingers over your knuckles.
You focused on the feeling of his frigid fingers and you felt yourself coming back to reality.
You blink quickly as more tears fall. "Aw ma, don't cry, it's okay, sweetheart." Chris coos, placing his hands on your hips, rubbing his thumbs on the bone.
His attempts to ground you are successful, as your eyes finally focus on his eyes. "Hey, hey, you coming back to me, baby?" Chris asks, his voice soothingly attempting to comfort you.
You nod absent-mindedly, relief flooding your body as you come back to reality.
You take in your surroundings for the first time in what felt like forever. You're sat on the stairs, your hands shaking from the adrenaline flowing through your veins.
You finally make eye contact with Chris, his eyes full of love and worry. He's got a bruise on the side of his face, a busted lip, and blood falling from his nose, smeared on his upper lip.
"Chris..." you say, cupping his face, rubbing his cheeks down to his lip, frowning when he winced. "Baby..."
He pulls away, chuckling lightly. "It's fine, baby, I'm okay. I just wanted to make sure you were safe." He squeezed your hips in reassurance.
"I'm okay." You say. But then your mind screams at you. "Fuck, where's Maya... an-and, James. Oh, fuck, what about Julia and Pet-" your cut off by Chris's lips on yours. You sigh into the kiss, your hands trailing down his neck.
He pulls away and smiles sadly. "Thank you." You whisper, looking down. "Anytime, baby. I'm so sorry. God, I'm so fucking sorry." He said, leaning his forehead on yours.
You shake your head. "It's okay, he's a fucking asshole." Chris kisses your cheek. "Let's get outta here? I made a little bit of a mess."
You raise your eyebrows. "A little?" Chris kisses his teeth and scoffs.
You smile and kiss his cheek. "Anybody would've done it, Chris. It's okay, really." You speak softly.
Chris smiles and helps you up. "Let's go home." He leads you down the stairs and reaches for the door.
But it opens before he can open it.
"Oh my god."
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(Man, I wonder who that is)
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remuslovebot · 3 months
Note
Ok but what if Felix x fem!reader and Oliver is tryin to kill her first yk but fails like maybe Felix walks in and Oliver tries to lie n cover it up type of thing or that reader just ended up in a small coma? Am I ok to request this?
please i love this, honestly a sucker for angst so thank you for sending this to me 😵🫶🏻
i hope you enjoy xx
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pairing: felix catton x fem! reader
warnings: attempted murder, physical abuse, angst but with a happy ending, oliver is his own warning. lmk if i missed anything
masterlist
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You had found out Oliver’s secret. He was lying to Felix and everyone about his family.
One day you and Oliver were sun bathing, waiting for Felix to return from a discussion with Farleigh. Oliver was wondering what was taking so long so he went over to where they were. He’d left his phone on his chair and it started to ring.
It was his mother. Curious, you answered the call. That was when you found out everything. The lie about his Father, his financial status, everything. You were in shock and also angry. How dare Oliver take advantage of Felix like that. How dare he take advantage of your friendship.
You planned to confront him and that’s exactly what you went to do. Walking back into the castle, you saw Oliver walking up the stairs.
“Hey Ollie!” You shouted. He turned around and looked at you with confusion. You tossed him his flip phone.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, your protective side coming out.
“Y/n, you’re acting strange. I don’t know what you mean?” Oliver said, although on the inside he was nervous.
Oliver and you were both on the stair case, he was above you and you were closer to the ledge.
“I know you lied. I know everything! About your father and where you come from. You’re a fucking liar, Ollie,” you said, looking up at him defensively.
With him being on the stairs, he was taller than you. Oliver walked down a couple steps, to match your eyesight.
“How could you have possibly found out?” Oliver asked, his voice now lower and more intense. It wasn’t a denial and you took a step back.
“Your mother called. She wanted to send you a card for your birthday,” you snapped.
“You should be careful. You might trip,” Oliver said. He needed to get rid of you. Or else you would mess up his plans.
You stood your ground, “I’m going to tell Felix. In fact I’m going to tell everyone,” you said lowly, looking directly into Ollie’s eyes.
In an instant, Oliver’s hand went around your neck, choking you. “You are not going to tell a soul. Is that clear?” He asked, almost teasingly.
You panicked and tried to pull away from him, but when you did you fell down the bottom of the stairs. Everything went pitch black.
At that moment, Felix and Farleigh had walked into the room. Farleigh only saw you fall but Felix saw Oliver’s hand around your throat and then saw you collapse down the stairs.
Felix’s heart broke, seeing you unconscious at the bottom of the stairs.
“Oh my god! did you push you her?” Farleigh yelled in shock.
Oliver looked at Farleigh and Felix. “It was an accident. She was going to attack me,” Oliver said, trying to play the victim.
Felix didn’t care though, he knew what he saw. And he wanted answers. But first you need to go a hospital.
“Y/n, baby please wake up,” Felix said, hovering over you on his knees. He lifted your head up and some of your body but you were out cold.
“Felix I—,” Oliver began to say, but Felix looked up at him in pure anger.
“Go. Now. Before I do something I’ll have to cover up,” Felix threatened. If looks could kill then Oliver would be a dead man.
Farleigh called Elsbeth and Sir James and the family immediately called the fastest doctor they could find.
That was the thing about being rich, you could get anything delivered to you at any time.
One of the guest rooms was turned into a hospital room. You still hadn’t woken up and Felix wouldn’t leave your side. The doctor said you weren’t in grave danger. But just in a small coma because of the impact of your head hitting the stone floor and the loss of oxygen from being choked.
Felix was angry at Oliver. Oliver had went to his room after Felix threatened him. Duncan had locked the door.
Felix would get his answers soon. But he knew he wouldn’t believe Oliver in the slightest. He had no right to put his hands on you.
Felix stayed by your side the entire night. You still hadn’t woken up and he was worried you never would. He took your hand and squeezed it comfortingly, he needed you to know that he was by your side.
Then, as if you’d felt Felix’s touch, you slowly opened your eyes.
“Felix,” you said, your voice soft and hoarse.
Felix’s heart leaped and he smiled when you awoke. “Y/n, darling. I’m here,” he said, softly.
“Felix,” you said, beginning to cry. You thought you were going to die. You didn’t know Oliver could do those horrible things.
“Shh it’s okay, lovely girl. I got you. You are safe,” Felix comforted. “I’m not going to let anybody hurt you,” he insisted.
Your stomach filled with butterflies and a small wave of comfort washed over you.
“But Oliver—he, he’s not who you say he is,” You said, looking at Felix like you would need hours to convince him.
But Felix wanted him out of the house for just purely putting his hands on you. When hearing this though, Felix raised a brow.
“How do you mean?” He asked. And you explained. The call with his mother, the confused questions you asked when you heard that his father really wanted to see Oliver.
Felix’s face broke and grew in concern. He felt like an idiot. How could he have put his trust in such a person? How could he have let someone like him anywhere near you?
“I’m so sorry, Felix. I know you two are close,” you said, tears streaming delicately down your face.
Felix shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I should apologize to you. I’ll fix this. We’ll have Oliver out of the house by the end of the day,”
“And when we return to Oxford?” You asked, Felix wiped your tears away with the pads of his thumb.
“We won’t see him back at Oxford, I promise,” Felix replied. “Get some rest. I’ll be right here and I’ll protect you.”
You nodded and closed your eyes. As soon as you fell asleep, Felix called his father into the room. Felix never left your side but told his father that Oliver needed to be removed from the house and a restraining order needed to be placed on him.
Felix would never let anything like this happen again. Not to the people he loves—especially you.
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verstappen-cult · 1 month
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Okay so this is my first request even having but I just had this random idea. So basically I had knee surgery recently (won't get into that 😂) but I was just wondering if you could write a fic about lestappen where their girlfriend gets surgery and basically the whole thing is just fluff tbh add whatever u want or whatever surgery if u write this. But I just feel like they would definitely make me feel loved after surgery
“Are you comfortable?” Max asks, fluffing the pillows behind your head.
It’s the third time he asks you the same question in a span of ten minutes. You don’t want to be rude, he’s just trying to help, so you smile up at him.
“Yes, baby. Thank you.” He opens his mouth to speak again but you beat him to it. “Weren’t you going to stream today?”
Max frowns at you, and shakes his head. “No, I told the boys I won’t be present today. I’ll be taking care of you.”
Your heart melts. If it weren’t for the surgery you just had that makes it a little difficult to move, you would be getting up to kiss him.
“I won’t go anywhere, and I already have everything I need here,” You take his hand, caressing the inside of his wrist with your thumb. “You can go, I’ll call you if I need anything. Besides, you know how much I like to watch your streams.”
“Are you sure?”
You nod, “Yes, go!”
Max leans and kisses you gently, being very careful, and then flies out of the room shouting something similar to I love you.
You reach for your laptop, ready to watch your boyfriend. And he really wastes no time because in less than five minutes he’s joining the stream, the viewers going absolutely crazy about him.
“I wasn’t going to join today, Crane. But my girlfriend insisted!” Max says and you can’t help but smile.
“She had surgery recently, no?”
“Yeah, nothing too serious. She’s resting now,” Then he looks at the camera and has the audacity to wink.
The stream goes like any other, they joke around, they play and joke some more. You don’t even notice when an hour has passed, it’s only when you look up to see Charles at the bedroom door that you realize how late it is.
“Charlieee, I missed you.” You pout, making grabby hands at him. He immediately makes his way to you, leaning to leave a kiss on your forehead. “What took you so long?”
“I couldn’t find the medicine you needed but I got everything after searching literally everywhere.” He takes off his jacket, sighing. “I picked us some dinner, too. Where’s Max?”
“Streaming.” You say, pointing to the screen where he’s looking very focused and hot.
“What?!”
But before you can beg him not to say anything, he’s already storming out, going directly to Max’s streaming room. You can’t move but you still have a front row seat.
Looking back at the screen, you see Charles’ legs coming into view. You see in slow motion how he removes Max’s headphones off his head with a little more force than necessary.
Max turns around and a smile makes its way into his face. “Hey love, didn’t hear you come in.”
“You left her alone?! She just had surgery and you left her alone?!”
“She insisted!”
“You should’ve said no!” Charles gives Max’s shoulder a little push and storms out.
You can hear him saying something in French from your room, and you know he’s just cursing Max for leaving you alone.
You hear Max’s friends laughing and making fun of him while your boyfriend looks embarrassed, cheeks impossibly red. He says a quick goodbye before shutting everything down.
Charles enters the room, brows furrowed.
“You didn’t have to do that.” You say, trying to look more angry than amused. “He didn’t want to but I insisted.”
“I told him to take care of you while I was out, was that so hard?”
Max shows up then, shoulders slumped and looking like a kicked puppy.
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t need you to be by my side every hour of the day.”
Charles' expression relaxes and he opens his mouth to argue, but you raise your hand to stop him.
“I’m not finished,” He closes his mouth and you sigh before saying, “Max, come here.” He immediately does, sitting by your side. “You’re gonna apologize to him now.” You speak to Charles this time, looking intently at him.
Charles lets his head fall forward. Now he’s the one who looks like a kicked puppy and you try very hard not to laugh.
“I’m sorry,” He mumbles, getting up just to sit at the other side of his boyfriend.
“It’s not like you left me alone yesterday so coy could play some FIFA while Max was training.”
Max gasps, clearly offended, “I want a public apology.”
“It was supposed to be a secret!” Charles groans and you slap his arm.
The smile is back on Max’s face.
“They’re gonna make fun of me for life.”
“They already make fun of you, Maxie.”
“Okay, rude.”
“And by the way,” Charles glares at you, pointing an accusatory finger at your face. “We’re just trying to take care of you. I don’t care if we annoy you, we’re not gonna stop.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Charles shuts you up with a kiss. He does the same with Max, peppering his face with kisses as an apology too. “I’ll grab dinner and we can watch a movie.”
Max stands up and follows Charles out of the room.
“I want to help too!”
“No!” they shout from the kitchen.
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buccini555 · 7 months
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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲
★ You found out you were pregnant, but were afraid to tell them, but they ended up finding out
★ H e a d c a n o n s !
★ 𝑭𝒕. Manjiro Sano, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Kakucho Hitto, Rindou Haitani, Ran Haitani, Kokonoi Hajime and Takeomi Akashi
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tw: unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, bad words, abandonment, a little angst but a lot of fluff
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𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨
Manjiro began to notice the change in your behavior, having the impression that you were hiding something, he knew, at that point he was almost sure that you were expecting his baby.
"Don't lie to me..." He held you, making you completely vulnerable, tears came down his face, Manjiro was really scaring you.
"M-manjiro, stop, please..." You just closed your eyes, expecting the worst and fearing for your son's life, but, unexpectedly, Manjiro let you go, giving you a hug full of affection, you remained silent, watching him place his hand on your belly.
"A-are you... pregnant?" Your heart beat faster, a feeling of despair took over you, but it was too late. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry but, it's true, I-I'm expecting your baby." Silence took over the room, being broken by Manjiro's inconsolable crying.
"Thanks." He said through tears. "Please take our baby away from me, I don't want to hurt you..." That was the last thing you heard from Manjiro before he told you to leave.
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𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨
You tried to hide all the symptoms so that Haruchiyo wouldn't notice, until the day you were having dinner together and you felt sick, as soon as you got up and went to the bathroom because of nausea, at that moment he already knew that you were pregnant.
"Love? are you ok?" He walked into the bathroom, seeing you sitting on the floor crying.
"Be honest with me... You're pregnant, aren't you?" Haruchiyo said as he helped you get up, your crying only intensified at that moment, confirming Sanzu's question, he remained silent, looking at you and stroking your face, it was definitely not the reaction you expected from him.
"Were you scared to tell me? I-I'm so sorry." Sanzu hugged you, then he walked away and at that moment you expected the worst possible reaction.
"I'm really angry that you're making your mother sick, we have to take care of her together, do you hear your father?" He said hugging and placing a small kiss on your belly, giving a smile of relief from you, later getting up and giving you a long kiss.
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𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨
Kakucho was always very attentive to you, for that reason, it didn't take long for him to suspect that you were pregnant, his doubts were only confirmed the day you ended up in the hospital because of a faint.
As soon as he found out about your hospitalization, he went to visit you, but as soon as he arrived in the room you were in, he saw you doing an ultrasound and listening to your baby's heart, as soon as you noticed his presence, your heart accelerated, Kakucho was standing at that door crying with a smile on his face, he went into denial for a moment, his emotion upon hearing your baby was so great that he couldn't even contain himself.
"Y-you're really pregnant, our baby is so small, so fragile... We're going to have a baby, I can't believe it!" He approached you, holding your hand and telling you through tears, he was shaking and couldn't even look away from the image of the baby.
"That was the best gift you could have given me, thank you darling! Now you're no longer the only love of my life." He kissed your hand, his reaction left you completely in love, you were sure at that moment that despite everything, you chose the right father for your baby.
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𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢
Rindou and you were in the room listening to some songs together when you started to feel sick, as much as you were trying to hide your pregnancy, Rindou had already noticed at that moment.
"Shit, aren't you going to tell me you got pregnant?" He said in a serious tone, looking directly at you, you looked at him scared, but you would have to tell the truth. "I'm sorry Rin..." You just confirmed his question, Rindou was completely shaken by the news and you could only hope for the worst.
"I'm not going to be a good father..." He said in a low tone, shaking his head in denial and trying to hide how disappointed he was. "I'm sure you'll be a great father, Rin." Everything suddenly became silent, almost as if time had stopped, Rindou hugged you, then placed his hand on your belly and caressed you with a smile on his face.
"I'll do my best for you, you and this little one boy... Or little one girl! Ran will love knowing he's going to be an uncle."
𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢
Ran You definitely won't find out about your pregnancy that easily, but as soon as he saw you feeling sick in front of him, something in his intuition made him realize your pregnancy.
Holding your hair as you finished throwing up, he couldn't help but ask you.
"You are pregnant?" He asked the question with a worried expression, seeing you feeling sick and thinking about the fact that you were carrying that weight alone made him completely sensitive, fearing for Ran's reaction, you just nodded your head.
"You should have told me earlier!" He shouted at you, making you even more scared.
"Forgive me... I didn't mean to yell at you." Ran hugged you, being careful in his embrace, he was already getting used to the presence of your baby, knowing that he would have to change his behavior for you.
"...My angel, my girlfriend and future wife, you made me a complete man!" He said, still hugging you, Ran proposed to you at that same moment and promised himself that regardless of anything, he would be the best father your baby could have. "Rindou is going to spoil this child so much..." Ran said with a smile on his face.
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𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞
Kokonoi had already made it very clear previously that he did not intend to have children, hiding the pregnancy from him would definitely not be a good idea as it didn't take him long to realize it.
"Do you have something to tell me?" He would ask you, already knowing the answer, Kokonoi didn't want to believe that that had happened.
"N-no." You said, trying to deny the obvious, but he interrupted you.
"You are pregnant." Koko stated, taking a long sigh and shaking his head in denial, you expected the worst possible reaction, but the tallest just burst into tears, soon going to hug you.
"I would never, ever deny our baby, I love you and I will love this baby, in fact, I already love him... or she? I don't know!" He said, or at least tried to say in the midst of so much emotion, he hugged you tightly, you just felt how much he was shaking, Koko was scared and just feared he wouldn't be a good father to your son. "I will take care of you, I will protect you! You are my most precious one, you and our baby."
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𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢
Takeomi already knew about your pregnancy, he paid close attention to your behavior and it didn't take long to notice the changes.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Where were you thinking when you chose to hide your pregnancy from me?" Takeomi said placing you against the wall and holding your face aggressively, at that moment you could only cry, fearing for your baby's life.
"You were just another slut, you should have thought about that before showing up pregnant." He said, releasing you, despite all that violence, Takeomi was honestly moved by the fact that you were expecting his baby.
"... I'm so sorry." Takeomi looked at you, helping you sit down and sitting in front of you.
"I won't be able to move on with my life knowing that I left a child behind, so I will take care of you and these children, but know that I'm not happy at all with this mistake I made." He got up and left.
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in-my-feels-probably · 8 months
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slytherin boys or mattheo riddle as a dad please?
Slytherin Boys as Dads
Request: slytherin boys or mattheo riddle as a dad please?
Hi! So sorry for the wait, this one took me a while for some reason. I was kinda vague with these, but hopefully you like them. Thank you for the request :)
(Warnings: mentions of bad home lives, insecurity, let me know if i missed anything)
Theodore Nott:
deathly afraid of being anything like his own family or father. he’d be a little apprehensive about having kids in the first place, but he’d eventually be more open to the idea once you promised to be there every step of the way and take things slow. 
the proudest dad ever. the type of dad to clap and cheer once they use the bathroom on their own for the first time. he literally wouldn’t care (within reason) how good they’re doing at a sport or in school, he’s just proud that they’re putting in effort.
he’s got a short temper. i think he’d get a little snappy, and then immediately regret it once the tears started or they got angry and snapped back. he’d put on a brave face in the moment, but he’d for sure cry about it later to you.
he has such a way with words, and he’s so imaginative. they’d ask him kid shit that makes no sense, and he’s just deadpan answering them without hesitation. and it would be like that even when the kids were grown and moving out of the house. he just knows the right thing to say.
wouldn’t want a lot of kids. he’s too easily overwhelmed, and although he’s got the love to go around, he just can’t stomach the idea of being responsible for that many lives. one or two is enough for him, and he’d love them with all of his heart.
Every milestone your little girl met had Theo in shambles. No matter how big or small, he treated every single one of them like she had cured cancer or won an Olympic gold medal. When she started growing more independent and wanting to do things on her own, it wasn’t any different.
Theo came into your room after saying goodnight to your daughter, tears welling in his eyes. 
You stumbled out of bed to approach him, holding him steady by his shoulders when he wavered. “What happened? Are you alright, love?”
“She made her own bed,” he said, letting out a shaky breath. “She didn’t want me to tuck her in. She said she wanted to try doing it on her own this time. And she did it so well.”
You could feel your heart warm, wrapping your arms around Theo’s shoulders. You gently rocked him back and forth, running your hand through his hair. He pulled back, quickly wiping under his eyes.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, a sheepish smile on his face. “She’s just so smart.”
“Don’t be sorry, love. Just wait till she gets to Hogwarts. She’ll be top of her class, just like her Dad was.”
Your words sent him spiraling again, his cheeks paling. You chuckled, bringing your hand up to hook a finger under his chin, turning him to look at you. You spoke gently, giving him a warm smile.
“But that’s not for a long time. We’ve still got years with her before she does something substantial for us to fawn over her for. Let’s not worry about it yet.”
Theo groaned, shaking his head. “I’m always worried.”
You smiled, wrapping your arms around his middle. You rested your cheek against his chest, listening to the faint thump of his heart.
“Did you ever see this coming for us?” He mumbled, resting his cheek on the top of your head. “Back at Hogwarts, I can remember wanting a life with you. But this isn’t what I was picturing. I used to not even want kids—Merlin, how could I have not wanted kids?”
You shrugged, closing your eyes and breathing him in. “I always knew you would be a good Dad. I pictured some sort of family with you.”
Before Theo could respond, your little girl came around the corner into your room, immediately running for Theo’s leg. She wrapped herself around him, playfully hanging from his pant leg.
“What are you doing out of bed, silly girl?” You asked, bending down to scoop her up.
“I have a question,” she babbled, absentmindedly reaching her hand up to squeeze your nose.
You laughed, passing her over to Theo. “Ask your Dad. I’m sure he’s got an answer.”
She wrapped her arm around Theo’s neck, tiredly rubbing her eyes. Theo looked down at her adoringly, patiently waiting for her to ask her question. 
“Why can’t I see my eyes? I can see your eyes and Mum’s eyes, but not mine. Why?”
You had to stifle a giggle, turning your face so your little girl wouldn’t see you laughing. But when you looked back up, Theo was just smiling down at her, like it was the most normal thing she had said to him all day. 
“I’ll tell you, and then it’s off to bed with you, darling,” he explained, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “You see with your eyes—through your eyes. That’s why you can’t normally see them themselves. But technically, you can see your eyes. Do you want me to show you, pretty girl?”
She looked up at him with wide eyes, nodding excitedly. Theo grinned, chuckling as he looked over at you. He nodded towards the bathroom where the mirror was, shifting your little girl on his hip. 
“I’ll be right back,” he said to you, before whisking your daughter off to the bathroom.
They giggled together all the way down the hall.
Lorenzo Berkshire:
the sweetest most dedicated man in the early stages. he would NEVER let you do more work than him. you’re not climbing up high, you’re not lifting something heavy, you’re not doing anything that keeps you on your feet. he’s BOLTING to beat you to it.
would give no fucks about gender. i think he’d absolutely adore having a little girl, but a boy is just as good. because he’d get to raise him up into a man the both of you are proud of.
gets overwhelmed easily for sure. would absolutely stress about not doing enough or upsetting the kids, and you’d have to remind him that he’s an incredible dad, and how he’s only human. making mistakes is gonna happen, there’s nothing you can do but keep going and try your best.
100% going all out for any sport/extracurricular they get involved in. he’s their number one fan.
probably the gentler parent. he’d try his best to be stern with them, but he just doesn’t have it in him to upset them. tears would literally break his heart, so you’d probably have to take on the more serious role.
You had two kids with Enzo, a girl and a boy. They adored their father—as they should. He was sweet and loving and hardly ever said no. But that was the problem…he hardly ever said no. 
And it got the best of him today.
The kids came bursting through the door, running into the kitchen with Enzo hot on their heels. He was carrying bags from the new toy store in Diagon Alley, a distressed look on his face as your children ran up to you to show you their new toys. You gave them a tight smile, faking enthusiasm.
“Very cool! How about we help Dad take them to your rooms, yeah? You need to eat before you play with them.���
“No,” your little boy whined, trying to dig in the bags Enzo was struggling to carry. “I wanna play now!”
Enzo let out a sigh, his voice strained. “Listen to your Mother—”
“We wanna play!” Your little girl screamed, her little cheeks flushing.
She turned around to root through the bags with her brother, when one ripped and the toys clambered to the floor. They scattered, and Enzo finally reached his limit. 
“That’s it!” He shouted, hoisting the bags up to set them on the countertop where they couldn’t reach. “That’s enough. You’re going to eat your dinner, and you’re never allowed to yell at your Mother again! Do you both hear me?”
Your kids stopped in their tracks, looking up at him with wide eyes. He might as well have slapped them—that was how they were looking up at him. Like he had hurt them worse than he ever had before. They were being dramatic, of course. You had scolded them far worse than that in their lives. But Enzo was never one to yell. He hardly ever raised the voice around the kids, it hurt him too much to do it. You looked up from their faces to Enzo’s.
And the look on his face was heartbreaking.
“I’m sorry,” Enzo stuttered out, unable to say anything else.
You could tell he felt terrible. His eyes were glazed over, and his hands were shaking at his side. You quickly scooped the toys off the floor, shoving them back into their bags. You bent down to speak to your children, grabbing each of their hands.
“Alright…everyone breathe. You two, I’m going to take you to your rooms. I expect you to be ready for dinner in ten minutes. And if you behave—and you apologize to your Dad and I for not listening to what we asked you to do—we’ll let you open up a few toys and play with them later. Your Dad was very nice to get you all of these things, and you both need to act like it.”
Your little ones looked up at the both of you, batting their eyes. You could feel your anger slip away as they watched you, their little cute faces scrunching up. 
It wasn’t fair—they were too adorable to be mad at.
“We’re sorry, Mum,” your little girl said.
Your boy nodded. “Yeah, we’re sorry Dad. We didn’t mean to yell.”
“I know, my loves,” you smiled, squeezing their hands. “Neither did Dad. It’s alright…everyone is just a little tired. Thank you for saying you’re sorry. Keep that attitude up, and your Dad and I will be happy to play with you after dinner.”
Your children giggled and ran off to their rooms with bright smiles on their faces, like nothing had happened at all. 
Your husband, however, was steel reeling. As soon as they were out of the room, you turned to him. His face was full of regret, his eyes sad. You frowned, opening your arms.
“Come here, sweet boy,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “You did so good. You’re okay.”
“I didn’t mean to yell,” he choked out into your shoulder, holding you tight.
You just shook your head, shushing him. “You had every right to. I love them to death, but they can be brats—and they know their Dad loves them too much to tell them no. You saw them, Enzo. They’ve already gotten over it. Don’t beat yourself up over this, love.”
Enzo sniffled into your shoulder. You held him tighter, gently rocking him back and forth as he leaned into you. It was quiet while you looked over his shoulder to the bags still on the counter, toys spilling out of the top of them.
You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “You’re such a good Dad. They’re gonna be glued to you for weeks after they open all of those.”
“I’m sorry you had to take the lead. I should be better at this by now. I just can’t handle it when they look at me like that.”
You heard a clattering, and looked over to see your kids in the next room, politely sitting at the table. They were giggling to themselves, on their best exaggerated behavior so that they could earn back time with their toys. It was adorable, and it brought a smile to your face. You looked up to see Enzo smiling as well, despite his anxiousness.
“How do they look now?” You asked, reaching for his hand. “Because to me, it looks like they’re on their best behavior so they can play with their lovely toys that their even lovelier Dad got for them. It looks to me like they want to play with their Dad so bad, that they endured—Merlin forbid—washing their hands and setting the table just to do it.”
Enzo chuckled, squeezing your hand. “It does look like that, doesn’t it? Well, let’s not keep them waiting, darling. We have bags full of toys and two lovely children waiting for us.”
Mattheo Riddle:
girl dad girl dad girl dad
absolutely gonna have a meltdown raising little girls because it means he’s gotta start kicking some little shit’s ass for hurting one of his daughters. you’d seriously have to hold him back once they start showing interest in dating, because he’s not ready for them to be that grown up.
absolutely an affectionate parent. hugs and kisses before bed, he didn’t make the rules he just enforces them. he’d want his kids to feel like there was never a point in their life where they were too old for a cuddle.
deathly afraid of fucking them up. he’d rely on you in the early stages to help him along, but he’d really get the hang of it fast. later on in their lives he’d wonder what he was even so worried about.
would absolutely adore you after you give him kids. he would never whine about being stuck with diaper duty or homework because you already did so much giving him his girls. it’s only fair that he takes care of them—including you.
During Christmas break, your girls came home giggling. It took you days to get them to finally tell you what was going on, and you made them swear not to tell their Dad what happened. They had both met someone they liked over the term and had asked you to help them owl them.
“As a woman, I’m thrilled,” you explained, speaking in a hushed whisper in the kitchen. “And I want to hear all about it. But as your Mother, I’m begging you not to tell your Dad. Do you remember what First Year was like and you two came home talking about all the cute boys at school?”
Your eldest groaned in her chair, looking at her sister. “We’re silent till summer, got it?”
“Got it.”
You woke up the next morning to shouting coming from the kitchen. You rushed out of bed to find your two eldest sitting at the table, their heads in their hands. Mattheo was standing across from them, your youngest in his arms innocently looking up at him.
Your eldest looked up once you walked in. “Help. I’m begging you.”
“Mattheo,” you scolded, giving him a stern look. “They’re our girls—they’re smart, and they’re ready for this. You should be happy they came to one of us first.”
“But they’re my little girls,” he whined, shutting his mouth when your eldest piped in. 
“We’re not little, Dad. Not anymore.”
You watched his face fall, his chest tightening. You gently took your youngest from his arms, passing her to her sisters. You motioned to the living room, nodding your head. 
“Go sit down for a bit, girls. We’ll be right out, yeah?”
They nodded, filing out together. You could hear them whispering as they sat on the couch, giggling. You turned back to Mattheo, gently guiding him backwards until he fell into a seat. He looked up at you with a pout, heaving out a sigh. 
You smiled down at him, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Do you remember when we met at Hogwarts? We were so lucky that I was smart enough for the both of us. Who knows what kind of trouble we could have gotten into if I let you lead.”
“We got into enough trouble,” he murmured, his tone sour.
You rolled your eyes, reaching down to grip his hands. You leaned forward, your knees knocking with his. 
“Listen to me. Our girls are smart—they’ve got their Mother’s intuition, thank Merlin for that. And one day, they’re gonna grow up. But that’s a far day from today. They’re not getting married, love. It’s just a crush. They want to send an owl.”
You squeezed his hands, nodding for him to turn his head to look out into the living room. He turned to see your girls all sitting on the couch together, the youngest in the eldest’s lap. Your older girls were making faces and sounds, trying to get the little one to laugh. She was looking up at her sisters with wide eyes and a bright smile, breathy chuckles pulled from her chest. You smiled, turning back to Mattheo. 
You hooked your finger under his jaw, turning him back to face you. “They’re still your little girls, Matty…they’ll always be your little girls. But we have to help them grow into women. And they need their Dad to help them do that.”
Mattheo sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your stomach. You threaded your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you.
“You’re my best girl, you know that?” He murmured into your stomach.
A warm feeling spread through your chest as you smiled. Your daughters interrupted you before you could speak, the middle one shielding hers and the youngest’s eyes. 
“Ew! Stop being gross, Dad!”
Mattheo chuckled, leaning back to look up at you. He glanced over at his daughters, absentmindedly reaching for one of your hands. He interlaced your fingers together, letting out a—this time, content—sigh.
“You’re right. It is going to be a far day.”
Regulus Black:
i feel like regulus would be a very chill parent.
i don’t think he particularly likes children, but he would love his own. he’d adore them when they were all little and cute.
he definitely would be really good at disciplining them. he never has to raise his voice or get physical, he just gives them a look and calmly explains to them what he expects, and they’re content to listen to him. it’s so different than how he was raised, and he would promise you that he’d do better with them than his parents did with him.
he’d be really afraid of hurting them like his parents did. you’d have to assure him every time he felt like he was doing a bad job with them.
when they’re older, they’re totally momma’s boys and girls. when they’re children they couldn’t get enough of him, but as they get older they’d start leaning towards you. he wouldn’t even mind the favoritism, because you’re his favorite too, of course his kids would be smart like their dad.
You and Regulus had a little boy and a little girl together, the boy a few years older than the girl. Sometimes your little boy would play a little rough with her, not understanding that he was too big to be getting that excited with her. 
You’d catch them in the yard, him chasing her around while she dawdled and squealed. You watched through the window, calling Regulus over to come watch. Regulus smiled as he came from your bedroom, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he peered out the window. But your little girl tripped after a while, and your boy was quick to tumble after her, laughing as he fell. He was still giggling when he sat back up, but she sat up with tears streaming down her face.
You quickly rushed out the back door, panic settling in your chest. “What did I tell you about playing rough with your sister? She’s too little, darling!”
You tried your best to remain calm, but you just couldn’t do it. Regulus, however, was as calm as ever. He followed you out the door, walking over to scoop up your daughter. He sat down in the grass with her, cradling her in his lap.
“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked her, gently shushing her. “You’re alright, it’s okay. Just breathe.”
While you were too busy calming yourself down, you failed to pick up on the shock on your little boy’s face. He was wide eyed, taking rapid breaths. Once your girl was calm, Regulus held his arm out for your boy.
“It’s alright. Everyone is fine. We just have to be careful, yeah? Can you remember that?”
Your boy nodded, and Regulus gave him a grateful smile, pulling him in for a hug. You watched in awe, finally pulling yourself together. You took a breath, sitting down in the grass next to your kids. Your little girl was quick to switch to your lap, wrapping her arms around your waist. You hugged her tight to you, smoothing your hand over her hair.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” you said, reaching your free hand for your boy’s. “You just scared me. I know you didn’t mean it.”
Regulus nodded, giving you a smile before grinning down at his kids. “Lots of excitement this morning, huh? Barely nine in the morning and we’ve already given your poor mum a heart attack. I vote we spend the rest of the morning inside, yeah?”
Your kids nodded, standing up and running inside like nothing had happened. Regulus stood after, offering his hands to you before pulling you up and into his chest. You pressed your cheek into him as you hugged him, letting out a breath.
“You’re a good dad.”
Regulus smiled to himself, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re a good mum, darling. The best.”
A/N - Hi! Hope you liked these! Thank you again for the request, I really enjoyed writing this :)
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