#and he owes it to himself to at least try to be happy

[freyito]

ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴠᴇɪɴꜱ

✭ pairing(s): boothill x gn reader

✩ inspo: blue lips by regina spektor & werewolf's eyes by birch book

★ summary: You can't do anything as the IPC activates Boothill's kill switch. [Ao3]

✧ a/n: i yearn for the angst... i NEED the angst... anyways :P el oh el

✦ like my work? feel free to send a request !

🗒 cw: gn reader, written before boothill release/2.2, angst, hurt/no comfort, he accidently hurts you, there is also a gun pointed to you, depictions of depression & grieving, weight loss, proofread

✎ wc: 2.5k

Sunshine filters through the windows, hearty laughter echoes within the confines of a comfortable space, and you can still smell the petrichor, the storm that had passed long ago. You lay on your shared bed, Boothill’s cologne, the faint smell of steel and oil, and your own cologne etched into the sheets, the smell of happiness. Your vision is blocked by Boothill’s hat, he had placed it over your face, teasing you about something you had done days ago. Something about stealing his hat, so why doesn’t he just give it to you?

You retort, saying something like ‘at least I don’t eat bullets’, kicking at his shins as he sat above you. But you are met with eerie silence, and then clicking, as if he was readjusting his limbs. You take off his hat, and in front of you, he stands ridged, face flat. You lean back, raising an eyebrow and nudging his hip with your foot.

“Real funny, Boots,” You groan, nudging him again and placing his hat down. Normally, he’d tell you ‘that’s not how you lay a hat down’ and flip it, but he doesn’t react, his body shows no signs of movement whatsoever. What you thought was a joke just to scare you now concerns you, heavily. “Boothill?”

He does not respond. You hear the faint hum of machinery within him, the faint pulse of his mechanical heart. You sit up properly and wave a hand in front of his face, and his eyes do not follow. Maybe he bluescreened? You nudge him again, and you are still met with no response. You lean back and reach for your bedside table, scavenging through the top drawer. You find a USB that Boothill had told you to use if he ever bluescreened. You reach back over to jack it into his waist, but he grabs your wrist near immediately.

His grip is bruising, causing you to wince and try and wrench your hand from his. You look back up at him to ask him to let go, but the words get caught in his throat as you watch his eyes shift, click, and lock on. They don’t dilate, not the way they do when he sees you after a long day, the way his gaze softens and his eyes dilate when you smile at him, no, they lock on. Still, you ask him to let go, that it hurts, you plead, and his grip tightens.

“Boothill–” You use your feet to push him away, pulling your hand free. “Ow, ow, ow–” The feeling is akin to pulling off a jade bracelet, too tight, your fingers all squeezed together. Worse, even, given his mechanical strength. When you finally pull your hand back, your wrist and knuckles are red.

You don’t want to run, but you feel like running. How many times have you promised Boothill that he isn’t a monster? You’d be breaking that promise if you ran now, but you had no idea what Boothill was going through. Was it a virus? It had to be, he’d never hurt you. His touches were always feather light, delicate, he treated you as if you were porcelain. He was afraid of his own strength. He was afraid of himself.

For now, you stare at him, sliding your legs out from underneath him, pulling your knees to your chest. He looks down at you like a starved wolf, and you feel like cornered prey. He looks down at you. You feel… useless. Pathetic. Not once has he looked at you this way, his eyes devoid of light and full of… nothing. Nothing. For once in your relationship, a pit forms in your stomach. You’re scared. You’re afraid. And Boothill doesn’t reach out for you, he doesn’t cup your cheek and whisper ‘Oh, buttercup…’, he doesn’t run his thumb along your cheek. He simply stands there, staring down at you as if you were a target. Another thug in his way for a higher bounty.

It stings. It reaches deep inside your chest and claws past your ribs, it rips your heart open and it makes you heave. In an instant, he’s ripped from you. Just like that. Aeons, it must be a virus, please, Aeons, please, Lan, let it be a virus. You aren’t quite sure how praying works. You aren’t quite sure who to pray to in your mind, but Lan feels like the best choice.

For a couple more minutes you two stay there, staring at each other, as if locked in a stalemate. It feels like hours, stuck in a room with a stranger in place of your lover. But there must be something you can do, there has to be something you can do. It’s not like you can exactly call for help, given whoever you do call will most likely want the bounty on his head. Perhaps a mechanic will do– a great idea.

You break eye contact finally, reaching for the bedside table again. Only, this time, you get a gun pressed to your temple. You don’t dare to move any further, too shocked to even gasp or cry. In that moment, it becomes so horribly clear to you, that man in your bed is not Boothill. There is nothing more you can do, simply stay still and hope help comes, hope someone comes to save you from the wolf in your cabin, in your hideaway, your sanctuary. Your sanctuary, gone in an instant. Desecrated. A stranger in your bed, and your life on the line.

It feels like hours more before you truly start crying. You do your best to bite your lip and shut yourself up, but heavy breathing gives way to hiccups, and eventually shuddering sobs. Boothill does nothing, he does not pull the gun away from your head, he does not stop. He does not break whatever trance he’s in, no matter how badly you want him to. You are desperate to get through to him, because it is just you two, far away from the world. You can’t even fathom hurting him, you don’t want to fight back.

“Boothill– hic– pl-please,” You stutter, a weak attempt to bargain for your life. Maybe he’s still in there, maybe he can hear you. “I’m s– I’m scared.”

For a moment, he pulls the gun only a centimeter away. A small flicker of hope bursts forth and you turn your head to look at him. He pushes the barrel of his gun to your forehead now, waiting for you to move. You didn’t even have the chance to smile.

Outside, footsteps break the silence. You are partially relieved, help is here, you assure yourself. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. And yet, you want nothing more than to hide away in Boothill’s arms, curl up, shut your eyes tight, and feel his body against yours, let his fingers card through your hair, whisper sweet nothings and wish the dark away. But that wasn’t possible. Not now.

There’s three, maybe four other footsteps, now. They trek right outside your bedroom window, voices muttering… commands? You can only pick up on a few words, but none of that matters to you. You try to calm your breathing down as you hear them open your front door, walking through your house with steady steps. When they finally enter the bedroom, your heart drops. An IPC agent, who stands in the doorway. You want to shoo them off and fix Boothill on your own, but you are essentially useless in this situation.

They are clearly surprised to see you, too. They had not expected any civilians, they hadn’t expected anyone. They mutter half-assed apologies as they approach Boothill from behind. The sight of them reaching for his off switch, sending him to sleep. In that moment, you could care less that he’s finally lowered the gun to your head. The IPC doesn’t deserve to lay their hands on him, not after what they had done.

Given the fact that you were an unexpected variable, they needed to take you in for questioning. While one agent hauls off Boothill’s now limp body, another attempts to console you, asking you to come with them. You hunker down, shaking your head and refusing to move. It’s childish, but the last thing you would want to do is help them. Unfortunately, they had to drag you out of your cabin, throw you over their shoulder like you were just another hunk of metal to them.

.  * 　　　 ✦     .     　⁺ 　 .

The IPC had only questioned you because they thought you were harboring a fugitive. It turns out that they had managed to wriggle their way into Boothill’s coding and consciousness and activate his kill switch, essentially setting him to default. They did not know that you were with him, and released you from custody with a hefty sum of credits as an apology. The thing they didn’t account for is that they had taken your lover from you. They had stolen him from you. All they could say was ‘sorry’, and send you on your merry way.

The days after, you hole up in your cabin. Your bed is empty every morning, the mattress sinks with the outline of your body. Boothill’s hat sits on the bedside table, set on its rim, and most likely flattening with each hour, each day that goes by. Your sheets are tear stained, most days blur together. You only remember waking up every once in a while, crying, and going back to sleep. You can’t remember the last time you ate. You can’t think of eating. Silence fills the cabin, day in, day out. You can’t even bear the sounds of your own sobbing, your own breathing. It makes you sick. No silly censors when Boothill comes back from a long trip, no more laughter, no more tickling you to get out of bed to spend a day with him. Silence. Terrifying silence.

You tell yourself he will come home, that this is not unlike the usual routine. He’ll leave for several months, causing a little mayhem, getting into scuffles, touring around the galaxy, whatever Galaxy Rangers do. Then, he’ll come home with a toothy grin on his face, nose scrunched, eyes squinted, practically singing your name. He’ll usher you back to bed, lay down on top of you and press his ear against your chest. He always loved listening to your heartbeat, usually when he got back. But he’d do it as often as he could, the rhythm of life lulling him into a much calmer state. A happier state.

But, as the days go by, you are met with emptiness. Sunshine isn’t as sweet, it is simply another facet within human life. When you get up and look out the bedroom window, the grass is drying out, the land around the cabin is dying. There is no reason to feed the soil, a world borne of love and devotion, ripped of its source. The land is parched, and you cannot feed it.

What the IPC failed to mention, or even send word of, is that they had wiped Boothill’s hard-drive. It is only at the five month mark that you dare question where he’s been. But when you try to call him, it goes straight to voicemail. You chalk it up to the fact that perhaps he’s across the galaxy, and that the reception just… won’t work. But after a week, you start to wonder if it’s anything different. However, you refuse to contact the IPC, and you seek answers through Boothill. But even your messages don’t go through. And you truly start to worry.

One day, you awaken to a message from him. Your heart soars, shaking off the lingering exhaustion easily as you open it. But your happiness is shot, burned, and scattered. In response to your ‘I miss you. Come home soon.’ text, all you receive in response is a ‘Who are you?’.

Who are you?

Who are you?

You stare at the message for an impossibly long time, your eyes dry as you realize you’ve forgotten to blink. And when you open your eyes again, the text is still there.

Who are you?

The heartbeat against his ear, the skin beneath his fingertips, the hands in his hair, the smile on rainy days, the morning light, the very essence of what made him human, the ring on his finger. That's who you are.

Who you were.

It is scary how your life can change with just a few words. A quiet life nestled within the forest, full of life and cherished moments, wiped with a simple prompt in a system. Promises of marriage, a proper life, intimate nights. Gone. Left to wither in the furthest reaches of your mind. You want to tell him who you are, that you were the love of his life, that you were his. You wanted him to respond, tell you he was ‘just joking buttercup’, that he’ll see you in a couple of days.

Tears fall against your phone screen, typing out a pitiful ‘ajsgj’ for you. You struggle to delete it, and end up accidentally sending it in the process. What a shame. The last thing you will ever send your lover is a sad keyboard smash, something he’d surely appreciate seven months ago.

All you can do is set your phone down and go back to sleep, or try to, anyways. Curled up in a ball, you sob and writhe and cry, hoping for this to be some twisted nightmare. You will wake up to his chest against your back once more tomorrow, you tell yourself. He’ll act like he wasn’t clinging to you, brush it off and say you were dreaming, and laugh when you say you swear he was getting cozy. And when he decides to get out of bed, he’ll groan about the way you put his hat down, dust it off, and put it on. He’ll look as dashing as ever in it, smile at you and promise he’ll let you wear it later. Then he’ll drag you out of bed and tell you to stop moping around, that he’ll make you two something good for breakfast. He’ll throw all sorts of cheesy names at you; buttercup, your favorite, sweetheart, darling, baby, angel, little bird, and tickle you till you finally laugh. And at the end of the lengthy morning routine, when you two have brushed your teeth and set yourselves down on the couch to enjoy the mundane, he’ll insist on taking a nap, because ‘you just look too tired, darlin’...’. He’ll intertwine his fingers with yours, rest his head against your chest, and listen to the sound of your heartbeat.

You pray that you will wake up, that Boothill be right there. And your days will carry on just as you imagined them. You pray to Lan, you tell THEM that you miss him, that he is what you truly wish to have in this life. That he was yours. That you want him to come back home.

Lan does not answer.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

#⁺◟freyito #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill x reader #boothill hsr x reader

[bkglovergirl]

Hi there! So I was wondering if you could make a fic about bakugou x reader, where she and bakugou were childhood friends similar to him and deku, but the reader has been obvious about her crush on him, always complimenting him, telling him she likes him, even going to UA with him.

He would always straight up rejects her but lowkey likes her, (moving forward to kats arc where hes being a better person lol) the reader still makes him bentos from time to time, always follows him but it doesn't seem to 'irritate' him as much (hes just so happy with her always taking his side), patching him up ect. you get the picture

that is until a girl from class B started taking a liking to bakugou as well and theres a senario where reader gets the wrong idea and think that they're dating class B bitch who always tries to get on her nerves, but in reality bakugou straight up rejects her

reader changing bla bla bla, bakugou being like "WHYD YOU STOP BABYING ME STUPID ASS??!"

readers like "wtf?" bakugous like, "if you we have a problem talk to me, im your bf after all"

sorry if its long. i had a wonderful dream id like to relive ❤️

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Bakugou X Reader

Childhood friends to lovers

I love the miscommunication trope, the ending is a little bit different.

Word Count: 2.3k

ೃ⁀➷

Ever since you could remember and much to Bakugou’s dismay you, Deku, and him have been childhood best friends. One thing is very well known between the trio. You have the biggest crush on Katsuki Bakugou. You make sure it’s known. The first time you realized you liked him, you told him almost right away. You both were around the age of seven and were at a playground fooling around. Neither of you guys had gotten your quirks and you “trained” at this particular playground every day whenever you could. You were running chasing the “villain” Deku around and around. Both your faces had dirt covered and you knew with how your clothes looked your mom was gonna be upset at you but who cares? You didn't.

“I’m gonna get you!”

“Nuh-uh!” Deku runs behind the slide and you follow after. 

“Boo! Huh?” He had disappeared, quickly you looked around and saw him running up onto the base of the playhouse and into one of the small tunnels that connect the two. You run after. Not paying attention you miss one of the steps on the stairs and fall. Bakugou close behind went to go catch you and it was right then and there his quirk manifested and burned your arm as he grabbed you. “Ow! Ow!” You whined looking up at Bakugou. 

“Are you okay?!” Deku comes running back down towards you both and you are slightly dazed so Bakugou asks again, “Are you okay!”

“Your quirk! Bakugou your quirk!!” 

“I KNOW STUPID BUT ARE YOU OKAY?” You and Deku both give each other a look before looking at Bakugou. 

“Yes, I’m okay!” you lied. “Bakugou, your quirk!” He smiled, and it was almost like you watched his ego form right then and there. 

‘Hell yeah, I got my quirk before you two!' He turns and puts his arm out away from you guys and gives a small blast. “Look how cool it is!” After some of the excitement dies down, you manage to beg Bakugou to give you a piggyback as he walks you home after you both drop off Deku. “I don’t see the point in this.” He adjusts you on his back a bit to make it more comfortable for himself.

“Think of this as payback.” You giggle as you hear him groan. “Hey Bakugou?”

“What.”

“I like you.”

ೃ⁀➷

Years later you guys got into UA together and lucky for you and Izuku, in the same classroom as well. Confessing to Katsuki happens at least every other week, and him rejecting you happens every time. You both have gotten into a schedule. You’d walk to school and on certain days bring him a Bento box. You’d go to class and try and do everything with him if Mr Aizawa allows it. At the end of the day, Katsuki always walks you to your dorm before walking to his. 

You knock on Katsuki's door and hear some grumbling before he answers the door, “Why can’t I get you at your dorm? Why do you always come to mine?” You shrug and hand him the Bento box you made him. “You gotta stop making these.”

“You say that, but you love it!” he rolls his eyes and takes it out of your hands. You both start walking to class together. “So I was thinking you and I could pair up because I heard Izuku and Todoroki are gonna pair up.” 

“Why do you always wanna pair up together.” “To save you from the embarrassment of not getting picked.”

“I would get picked!”

“Absolutely not.” You go to open the door to the classroom but Katsuki quickly opens it for you, you smile and walk in. 

You follow him to lunch and sit next to him. He grumbles his small complaint but quickly eats the food he complained about. He never says thank you or compliments the food, but you know he appreciates it by how empty he leaves the bento once he’s done. “It’s cold.”

“Stop complaining, maybe you should have brought your jacket.”

“Alright asshole my fault I forgot it!” The bickering goes back a forth a bit before you stand up, “Walk without me I need to talk to Denki about something.”

“Whatever.”

ೃ⁀➷

You switch the song on your phone before putting it in your skirt pocket and walk to class. You smile seeing Katsuki ahead of you and run to catch up but stop quickly. Katsuki is handing a girl his jacket and she’s smiling at him. Your heart sinks and you feel nauseous as you watch him open the door for the girl. You look at his face. ‘Is he blushing?!’ you bite the inside of your cheek and walk into the classroom. You hear Katsuki call after you but you ignore him. The small banter between you two is non-existent and the whole class quickly takes notice because you are uncomfortably quiet. The notes Katsuki passes to you go unread and you push them off your desk. Katsuki is panicking in his head, he is going through every single thing he’s done today and he can’t think of anything he has done wrong. You were fine at lunch and if anything happened you wouldn't ignore him, if anything you'd whine and complain to him about it. To Katsuki’s surprise, he’s really annoyed you aren't complaining to him. The bell rings and you quickly stuff your bag with all your things and speed walk to the door. “Hi is Katsu there?!” of course, you would run into her and Katsu?! Who the fuck does she think she is? Everyone is staring at the two of you, you step to the side to let the girl in and she runs up to Katsuki. “Katsu!” Your classmate's eyes follow the girl and look at you thinking the same exact thing you are. You shrug and walk out.

ೃ⁀➷

The next morning you walk to the classroom by yourself. Denki and Izuku come to check on you but you wave them off saying you are okay. Before they both walk away you quickly ask Denki to be partners in training. He gives a look to Izuku before agreeing. Katsuki walks in minutes later, late. He tries to talk to you but Aizawa tells him to get into his seat and he obeys. 

Training starts a couple of hours later, and just like you guessed, no one wants to partner with Katsuki. He watched as you walked over to Denki when Aizawa announced that you all should grab partners. He’s crushed but shakes it off. His pride stops him from walking up to you. Kirishima takes one for the team and partners up with Katsuki. The training goes well, and surprisingly, you and Denki are a great team.

“I think we should be a team more often, Y/N!” You smile, agreeing with him. The next set of teams that are put against each other are You and Denki vs. Kirishima and Katsuki. During the whole fucking battle you manage to avoid Katsuki, you don’t know how you manage to pull that off and neither does he because he tried so hard to come after you specifically. By the end of the battle you and Denki come out victorious and Katsuki is pissed. Katsuki rips off his gauntlet looking at you and Denki walking off together and talking.

“Denki I-”

“Kaminari.” he corrects.

“Kaminari.” You smile. “I just don’t get it. Who the fuck is that girl?! Where did she come from? I’m with Katsuki so much how did I not notice there was another girl.”

“Doesn't he reject you all the time?”

“A part of me doesn't like it’s a rejection. He likes the things I do for him, but his rejection seems like a wait, not a no.” you put your hands up to your face, “I’ve liked him since we were little. The memory of me first liking him is imprinted into my body! How do you just get over that? How do you get over Katsuki Bakugou.” Kaminari puts his hand out to stop you from walking into a wall. You look at him and his face is looking at you with confusion.

“What do you mean by imprinted?” You roll up your sleeve and show him the big scar that was left on your body. 

“This happened when his quirk first manifested. It was by accident and instead of celebrating his quirk he made sure I was okay first.”

“That doesn't sound like Bakugou.”

“I KNOW!” You rest your back against the wall, and Kaminari leans against it facing you. You don’t know how long you talked, but at some point, the talking turned into scheming. Katsuki comes walking up and the girl is right next to him talking away and honestly, he’s annoyed. It takes everything in him not to scream in her face. He sees you first. Then he sees Kaminari leaning against the wall next to you. At the same time, you see him first. Then the girl walking next to him. He takes note that he’s changed and cleaned up after training, you guys aren't even changed out of your hero outfits and are still all messy. The training ended an hour ago. He stops walking which the girl next to him takes as a green light to wrap her arms around his arm. Kaminari notices and quickly stands in front of you to block your line of view.

“Don’t look it’s only gonna hurt more.”

“Come to my dorm.”

“What?”

“Come to my dorm right now.” You grab his arm and drag him away aggressively. Kaminari has to stop himself from complaining your grip hurts.

ೃ⁀➷

Katsuki got up early enough to get to your dorm room. He knows this is the time you leave, he knows your exact schedule to the T. He knows your whole life and who you're close with so he’s honestly so fucking confused why you walk out of your dorm room and run up to Denki fucking Kaminari. On top of that, you hand him a bento box. His fucking Bento box. He’s stunned and stands there like a dumb ass watching as you walk away with him.

Class is giving him a headache. He just feels the need to take as many pain pills as he can. You and Denki have been joking around non-stop and it doesn't help that you sit in front of Katsuki and Denki sits in front of you. The class feels like forever. There is no training today so it is just class and he doesn't know how long he can just sit here and watch as you painfully ignore him. He concludes he’ll talk to you before lunch but that plan is quickly foiled as the girl from class 1B comes barging into the classroom like she owns the place and attaches herself to him. Katsuki watches as you stare a second before Kaminari puts an arm around your shoulder and walks you out of the room as quickly as he can. He makes a new plan that he’ll talk to you at lunch but that plan is also quickly ruined as the girl blocks him at his table so he can’t get up and go to you. So as your plan goes perfectly, he gets a perfect view of you and Kaminari sitting and having lunch together. He then makes plan number three, he’ll follow you around until he gets the perfect moment to yell at you. It’s perfect. He follows you to class with the annoying girl talking away. He sits in pain the whole rest of class as he watches you and Kaminari fool around the whole time.

ೃ⁀➷

“Why are you following me around.” You turn to look at him. You landed at your childhood park once you realized Katsuki was following you around. It’s cold and you hug yourself.

“So she speaks.”

“Don’t be an ass Bakugou. Why are you following me?” Katsuki’s stomach sinks. At least he knows how you feel now.

“Bakugou?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What’s wrong with me?”

‘Don’t act fucking stupid.” He takes off his jacket and gets closer to you, You take a step back. “See what I mean?! I’m trying to give you my jacket and you step away from me! What the fuck Y/N!”

“Sorry, I don’t want what another girl got.”

“What are you- oh…”

“Yeah oh! Kaminari told me I wasn't being stupid but maybe I am! Maybe I should have stopped liking you when you rejected me the first time! BUT NO!” you get closer grabbing his shirt, “You make it so fucking difficult to not be in love with you!” He stares at you and leans down, as much as you don’t want to, you push him away. “No this had gotta stop. I’m not gonna let you keep toying with me and I gotta stop being so delusional.”

“You aren't being delusional.”

“Really because that girl has gotten more attention than I have gotten from you in years. Every time I confess since we were kids you act like I didn't say anything!”

“I just wasn't ready for things to change.” you scoff at him.

“It was always going to change! Did you like dragging me along? Where did that other girl come from?” you sit down on one of the swings and kick some wood chips. Putting your hands on the chain.

“I just wanted to make sure I liked you and I wasn't just… I don't fucking know! You're the only girl who has been in my life that wasn't my mom!” you glare at him.

“Wow.”

“Listen Y/N, I know it was stupid but I just needed to know before our relationship changed and I fucked everything up.” “So what was this conclusion from your stupid fucking experiment?” Katsuki takes this as a green light to come closer to you. You don’t say anything.

“That no girl compares.”

“Wow, Romeo it took you that long?” Katsuki stands in front of you and puts his hand on top of yours. You look up at him.

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’m not confessing again.”

“I know.” He leans down and kisses you. 

#bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo katuski #denki kaminari

[mymarifae]

DUDE COME ON

#miss stellaron :( :( :( :( i think despite it all aventurine did admire stelle and the rest of the crew #and under better circumstances probably would have liked to befriend them. no strings attached #nBjdjj #jtjkN?4 #akfngkdmgh #this sucks. even though acheron didn't KILL him kill him #leaving that side of the dreamscape might #and it's only upon getting there that he realizes his life might have some value after all #and he owes it to himself to at least try to be happy #but well now he's on the other side and who knows if he can actually make it back without dying for real!!!!!!!!!!!!!! leav e me alone #idk the whole scheduling a text message to say goodbye and express fondness to a person you would have liked to genuinely befriend #hruts my feelings #AND IF HE MAKES IT BACK AND CHECKS HIS PHONE #HE WON'T EVEN SEE THAT STELLE SAID SHE WANTS TO SEE HIM AGAIN TOO BECAUSE THE MESSAGR DIDN'T FUCKING SEND #UAGGHHH

[ikiprian]

Tim swears Phantom could’ve been a Titan. Maybe he should be, at this point. They have enough in common to justify it.

“Jeez,” Phantom groans. Abruptly, he drops the levitation and hits the roof without sound. He stretches out on his back like a cat, sore muscles straining in a way Red Robin deeply relates to. “Fighting the living sucks. At least with ghosts I can swing as hard as I need. Already dead means they get back up! But mortals? Way too squishy.”

Red Robin huffs in agreement. “Yeah,” he says. After a moment’s consideration, he lies down, too.“It’s a hundred times harder than people realize. Batman’s always going on about perfect control in training. About how to have it, you gotta be twice as skilled as the other guy. Even without your super-strength, I worry sometimes.”

“How do you do it?” Phantom asks. In a move only achievable to those without bones, or perhaps Dick Grayson, he twists himself over. Gloved hands cup his cheeks. His legs kick back and forth, like they’re gossiping at a slumber party. “I mean. You said you train, so obviously there’s the physical ‘how.’ But how do you keep your emotions nonlethal? How do you keep yourself in check, make sure you’re pulling back?”

“I mean,” says Red Robin. “Murder is illegal, so.”

Phantom sighs. “Yeah. Maybe it’s easier for you.”

… Hm. Maybe Red Robin should redo Phantom’s risk assessment.

Before he can raise too high an eyebrow (though even moving that muscle smarts, ow), Phantom elaborates.

“Ecto-based entities have trouble with their emotions,” he explains. “It’s easy to get lost in an Obsession, or a big feeling like grief. The rest of the world… it bleeds away. Helps to have another emotional anchor to keep it at bay. I use fear.”

“Fear?” Red Robin glanced over.

“Sometimes sheer stubbornness,” Phantom admits. “But a lot of it is fear.”

With a considering frown, he drops his head atop his arms. Exhaustion, regret, reluctance play out on his face. For someone the Bats know next to nothing about, Phantom’s body language is an open book.

“I saw, like, an alternate future version of myself once where I become evil and try to take over the world? So now I gotta be good to keep that from happening. The fear of that future keeps the pressure on me. Makes me focus up. Y’know?”

Tim sits up. “Seriously?”

Phantom nods. “Uh-huh. Kinda bizarre, I know—”

“What the hell,” says Tim. Three consecutive days together and a concussion must loosen his lips, because holy shit, no way. “Dude! Me too!”

“Huh? Seriously?” says Phantom.

“Yeah! I totally saw myself turn evil. Like, Batman but with guns. Guns Batman. I had to fight him and everything. He tried to kill my friends and erase my memory to make sure I couldn’t un-invent him by going back to change the past?”

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god, me too!”

happy wips wednesday!

#they get on like a house on fire after this convo #danny totally gets to meet the titans #do you guys ever think about titans tomorrow #dcxdp #dpxdc #kipwrite #kipsnip #danny fenton #tim drake #prompt #dead tired ship #<- ​up to interpretation really #honestly not much of a wip tho this was just a warm up #but warm up wednesday doesnt sound as good

[nickfowlerrr]

so inviting, i almost jump in.

pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: fluff. pining. idiots in love? fake dating...kinda lol. a lil bit of angst but not too much.

words: 4.5k

notes: happy new year! i tried so hard to finish this last night but just couldn’t do it lol. this is part of the ciwywt universe, but i think it can be read as a standalone, too.

also - coherent, consistent timelines? sorry, don’t know her. idk where this fits in their story but it does bc i say it does. 😌 i really love these two and i hope you enjoy this lil fic as much as i do. thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome, and so appreciated! 💞

"Ow,” you wince, “damn it," you grumble to yourself as you set your eyeliner pencil down, blinking rapidly to quell the tears you could feel about to form in your eye. You huff and turn to look down at the cause of your distraction, your phone ringing loudly as it lays on the counter. You see the caller and preemptively roll your eyes. Not this again.

You swipe to answer the call and his voice immediately floats into your ear, giving you no time to even utter a 'hello'.

"Before you say anything-"

"No," you state firmly, annoyance clear in your tone as you stop him before he can begin.

"Doll,"

"Bucky, I said no," you cut him off again. "It's a no. No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen," you continue despite his pathetic huff sounding on the other end.

"I know you said no..." he says before trailing off for a second, "but, doll, I really need you."

Damn him. You sigh heavily into the phone, putting a hand to your forehead to stop the headache you know is coming. He's really trying to pull on your heart strings... unfortunately for him, it's not gonna work.

"You don't need me, Bucky. You're gonna be fine. They're your friends, if you just tell them what you told me, they'll understand. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's not," he huffs, stopping himself, and you can almost hear him shake his head, "Will you at least try to come by?"

You know you won't, but you don't want to upset him any more than he already is.

"Yeah, I'll try. And stop worrying so much. You'll have a good time, I know it," you smile, the thought of him and his friends enjoying their New Year's Eve tugging at your lips.

"Yeah," he responds, sounding a little unsure. "Okay, well, I'll see you later?"

"Mhm...maybe," you say.

"Doll," he groans, causing an unbidden laugh to slip from you at his dramatics.

"I said I'd try, no promises! But I do have to go now, so, talk later. Bye," you finish, hanging up on him before he can try and talk you into making a promise you have no intention of keeping.

You sigh heavily as you set your phone back down, returning to your almost finished makeup. Just because you aren't going out doesn't mean you can't look good.

You're still so surprised he asked you to be his fake date to his New Year's Eve party. Both because you were surprised he was hosting a party to begin with, and because he needed a fake date.

But that was just it, he didn't need a fake date. He wanted to get his friends off his back with the constant set ups and double dates they'd plan for him. What he really needed to do was tell them the truth, just like he told you. He didn't want to date, at least not right now. He said his mind was on other things. That was understandable, so you weren't sure why he couldn't just tell them that...

A part of you feels bad for not helping Bucky out, but the other part of you knows you'd feel like a total outsider at a small party being attended by the avengers.

Like, the real-life superhero team, The Avengers.

That was an immediate 'no thank you'.

You were content to spend the night alone; just you, your grapes, and some apple cider to cheers to the new year.

--

The television plays on, another episode of a show you've seen ten times before just starting up, as a knock sounds at your door.

You furrow a brow as your head shoots in its direction. It only takes a second for you to come to the conclusion that it must be Bucky. You set your drink down and stand from where you were sitting cozily on your couch.

You fix your dress, and for no reason at all, check yourself in the mirror before you near the door, making sure your makeup isn't smudged and your hair still looks nice as you do.

There's another knock as you get to it and you open your door with a bit of attitude at his impatience.

"Bucky, how many times-" you're stopped short as you quickly see that the man before you is, in fact, not Bucky. "Oh, uhm, sorry, can I help you?" you ask.

"Yeah," the man laughs, "I'm here for the party. This is the right apartment, isn't it? Bucky Barnes?" he asks, looking at you quizically.

"No," you answer, "no, wrong apartment. He's just," again you're cut off, but this time by the door right down the hall opening, none other than Bucky peeking out to look down at you and - oh my god wait...is this - this is - holy shit you're talking to Captain America. Your eyes round as you look from Bucky back over to the man before you. "Oh, gosh, you, you're,"

"Sam Wilson," he smiles brightly at you, extending a hand. You shake hands as he continues, "and you must be-"

He is cut off from saying your name as it comes out of Bucky's mouth, almost frantically. You look from Sam back over to Bucky, your eyes still wide.

"I know you're still getting ready, but would you come here for just a second," he nods at you. You look once more between Sam and Bucky, your eyes narrowing as they land back on your own personal pain in the ass. What the hell is he up to... You and Sam go to walk over to him but Bucky speaks again. "Not you, Sam. You stay there," he says in a fuss. Sam puts his hands up, a look of confusion clear on his face at Bucky's demand.

You continue toward him and as soon as you're close enough to touch, he pulls you to him, turning you both so Sam can't see what you're saying. It's a hushed conversation, a whispered argument, really.

"You have to come over."

"No, I really don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You're staying."

"No, I'm not."

"You're staying. I'm not letting you leave," he says, trying to corral you into his apartment as you swipe at him, a back and forth of swats ensuing between the two of you.

"Bucky!" you finally whisper yell, stopping the battle as you ball your fists, almost stomping like a toddler in your annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I lied."

"Huh? To me? About what?"

"To all of you. But mostly them. I told them you'd be here. Because I thought you would be. But then you said you weren't coming, but I couldn't tell them that or they'd think I was just making up another lie about you..."

"Another lie?"

"I...may have... told my friends that we're dating and have been for a few weeks," he murmurs under his breath, so quiet you can barely hear his confession.

"You what?" you balk, trying your hardest to squash the stupid butterflies that are fluttering around in your stomach now at the idea of not only dating Bucky, but of being someone he brings up in conversation to other people.

"Alright, love birds, cute as this is, are one of you gonna invite me in or am I just supposed to stand here awkwardly in your hallway all night?" Sam interjects, walking to you both as you turn your heads to look at him.

Bucky turns entirely, moving closer to you, slipping his arm behind your back and resting his hand on your hip, "Yeah, welcome in. Steve said he'd be here with beer in a few minutes," Bucky says, an annoyed edge to his voice as he lets Sam through the door. Sam raises a brow at you and you force a smile. As soon as he's inside, Bucky snaps the door shut behind him, leaving you both in the hallway still.

"What the hell," Sam says, loud enough for you to hear through the door.

"Look, it started as a lie to get out of a date, but then I just kept using you an excuse to not go to things I didn't wanna go to. And ya know, more than half the time I wasn't really lying because I was with you," he tries to excuse himself.

"Are you insane?" you ask him plainly.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need you to be here tonight, please," he begs, his puppy eyes starting to get to you.

"You had only asked me to be your fake date."

"Yeah, once you said yes, I was gonna work the girlfriend thing in," he smiles wryly, rubbing the back of his neck in his anxiousness.

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Is that a yes?"

You roll your eyes before acquiescing, "Fine. But you've gotta come clean tomorrow. You can't start the new year with secrets, it doesn't bode well for anyone."

"Deal," he smiles his real smile this time. Then his eyes drift down to your outfit and you warm, like you always do, under his attention. "You look good," he says softly, sincerity in his voice.

"Thanks," you accept quickly. You will not let him fluster you so easily. Not tonight.

--

More of Bucky's friends arrive soon after you get back from your apartment, your bag of grapes and bottle of unopened cider in hand. Bucky introduces you to each of them and you're now unsurprised that they know your name and exactly who you are. And you, for your part, are in awe of each and every one of them. Though you like to think you don't make it obvious.

And it's surprising how normal it all feels.

You for sure thought you'd be a nervous wreck around these people, but, especially with Bucky by your side, you've never felt so calm and comfortable, and at a party of all places. Though you suppose it helps that you're already so comfortable around his apartment. Still, it's nice. They're nice. And fun!

Card games are played, karaoke sung, and stories told as you all snack and chat the evening away.

You're all laughing as Sam talks about how everyone was sure Bucky had been making you up like a summer camp girlfriend after the fifth time he claimed you were sick or out of town so you couldn't show up to the events they had invited you to. Of course, you had no idea about any of them, but you do know where you were each and every night they brought up.

You were here.

With Bucky.

So, he wasn't completely lying. You smile and look to Bucky who stands right next to you. Your eyes instantly meet his, a smile of his own already gracing his face. You look back down, bashful despite yourself.

The night has passed so quickly and it's already nearing midnight. You're about to go get your grapes ready, but Steve's voice stops you, catching your attention.

"Ya know, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you look so happy, Buck," Steve smiles as he looks at the two of you. "I'm really happy for you, both of you,” he adds. “It's obvious how much you two care about each other. It's good to see."

You don't know what to say, and you're too scared to look at Bucky. You just force another smile, feeling a bit sad more than anything. Because this isn't real. Whether you'd like it to be or not. It isn't. You have to remind yourself of that.

Bucky's hand squeezing your waist, and the feeling of his admiring gaze on you as he pulls you closer to his side, doesn't help. It just makes that pit in your stomach grow deeper.

This is easy for him because it means nothing.

This is killing you because it means everything. It’s everything you never give yourself permission to dream about. Everything you want. And it’s what you know isn’t for you. It couldn’t be.

Just a few more minutes, you breathe, and then you'll go back to normal. No dating, just friends...just friends? Whatever it is you are to him...

You're lost in thought as the conversation continues around you, Bucky's hand never leaving you and his gaze never wavering. Even as he engages in the conversation, his attention is solely on you.

"Oo, countdown is going!"

The yell pulls you out of your head as your eyes snap to the television. What the hell! How did you just lose eight minutes? Damn Bucky always taking up your thoughts and distracting you.

You don't have the time to get to the fridge for your grapes as the kitchen is crowded, flutes of cider and champagne being passed out among the group.

You tsk, oh well. At least you have on your red underwear.

As the count gets lower, Bucky gets closer, and you mindlessly lean back into him as you watch the live broadcast from Time Square. Ten seconds hits and you all count along, Bucky's other arm comes around as he holds you from behind. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Bucky turns you around in his arms, catching you off guard as you look up at him, your hands coming to rest on his chest.

Two.

He leans in, and you're frozen. His nose brushes yours, as his lips brush against your own. Oh.

One.

"Happy New Year," he whispers against you, cheers and exclamations of the same sentiment shared all around the living room, between everyone else.

"Happy New Year," you whisper back breathily before you unthinkingly press closer to him.

His lips meet yours as he leans in ever closer and kisses you, so softly. Your eyes flutter closed as you return his affection, kissing back harder than you intend before you break away. It feels like magic, it feels like home. And you want nothing more than to do it again. To lose yourself in him so delightfully…

You remember yourself then and almost shy away completely before Bucky takes your face in his hand, turning you back to him. You lock eyes once more and you feel like you can't breathe at what you see in his. You don't have time to think on it before his eyes flick down to your lips and then he's kissing you again. His lips press harder against yours, still moving just as gently but somehow it feels much more intimate. Sincere. Real.

You deepen the kiss and then suddenly the whooping and claps around you both bring you back to reality.

You pull away, taking a sobering breath, blinking away the haze of longing as Bucky's delicate touch remains on your cheek. You gingerly reach to take his hand, slowly pulling it off of you. You hold it for a second, squeezing his hand before letting it drop.

The celebration continues all around but you need to get yourself together. Alone.

"'M gonna use the bathroom," you whisper to him, knowing he can hear you even through the din.

You exchange 'Happy New Year' exclamations with everyone you pass on your way to his bathroom and bid goodnight to the people already getting ready to head home. A lot of them have early mornings at the tower, so you get it.

There are only a few people in the living room with Bucky as you look back before you escape to the bathroom, taking your time to decompress.

Sam, Steve, and Nat were talking with him, but his eyes were on you when you looked at them.

You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you'd get caught up in the fantasy. And somehow, he still got you to do it. You curse yourself in the mirror and then notice your smudged lipstick.

The thought of your lipstick staining Bucky's lips right out there has you in a flurry of emotions...

He kissed you. Twice. That actually happened. But did it really mean anything?

Your heart twists as you refuse to believe it could have. You just need to... God, you don't know what you need. All you know is right now you can't stop thinking about Bucky's hands on you. You can't stop thinking of how soft and supple his lips are. And how damn good of a kisser he is.

You look at yourself once more in the mirror.

Fucking hell. What are you gonna do? You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you shake your head at yourself.

You turn back to the door, opening it right when someone's knock hits.

You're somehow surprised, and yet not at all, to see Bucky staring back at you as you pull it open wider.

"Hey," you say, raising a brow and shoving every fuzzy feeling threatening to strangle you back down.

"Hey," he started. "Everyone left. I just, uh. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, I'm good," you nod.

"I'm sorry. About kissing you."

"Oh," you utter - sounding more dejected than you wanted to. "Yeah, no. Don't, don't even worry about it." You muster a shamefully see through smile.

His stare is near invasive as he really looks at you, analyzing you. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, instead giving you a tight lipped smile in return.

He nods, then looks to the floor, "Okay," he accepts.

You nibble your lip, crossing your arms as he still stands in front of you.

He notices and moves out of your way, offering a small sorry and a huff of a laugh.

You walk back out into the living room as he follows.

"Wow, this place is a mess,” you breathe a laugh, hoping to keep the subject change.

"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll be having fun tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" you question. "Are you busy now?"

"... I guess not."

"Then grab a garbage bag, Barnes. We've got work to do."

He laughs, "Oh, yeah? You're gonna stay and help me clean up?"

"What are friends for if not clean up?"

He smiles at you as his mind replays his conversation with Sam, Steve and Nat just minutes ago.

He told them the truth about you, and their reaction wasn't what he expected, but definitely what he needed.

"Wait, sorry, you're not dating her?" Nat asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, I'm confused, too," Sam added. "You guys act more like a couple than most couples I know."

"And she's cute, you seem perfect together."

"Well, we're not. Not, not perfect together," he amended, "I mean we're just not together. We're friends. Nothing more."

"Looks like a hell of a lot more, if you ask me..."

"So," Steve finally chimed in, "you spend all that time together, you talk about her constantly, and I saw the way you kissed her at midnight, Buck, but you're telling us it's nothing more than friendship?"

Bucky didn't know what to say. But he knew Steve knew what he was really feeling. He knew exactly what he wasn't saying.

"Do you want it to be more?" he asked. "Because from an outsider's perspective, it seems like you have everything with her but the label."

"I..." Bucky looked around, making sure you hadn't snuck back out of the bathroom yet, "yeah. I do want it to be more. She's, fuckin' perfect," he breathed a laugh as his thoughts, as they always do, strayed back to you. That familiar warmth that fills his chest anytime you're near, or hell, anytime he so much as thinks your name, returned to him. And suddenly his thoughts went back to the softness of your cheek as he held you close earlier. How pliant and perfectly your lips moved against his as you kissed him back. Not once, but twice.

Even still, he thinks back to when he told you why he was so reluctant to go on the dates his friends kept setting up for him. It was a lie when he said it was because he didn't want to date right now... well, partially. He really didn't want to date around. And his mind was focus on other things.

Other things, of course, being you.

When you nodded and told him you got it, that you felt the same way, his heart felt like it deflated by ten.

He was getting ready to finally make his move and ask you out, for real this time. But how could he do that now? He didn't want to be another guy you had to swat away, he couldn't be another one of your rejections. And you gave out plenty, always to his selfish delight if he was being honest. In fact, he can't remember the last time you actually went out on a date. It's been months...

Most of your nights are spent together. Just the two of you. But if you weren't wanting to date anyone right now, and he asked you, he couldn't be sure what you'd say. More importantly, where it'd leave you.

Bucky wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, and he wasn't deaf. He had every confirmation he could ever want that you liked him the same way he liked you. But he didn't want to chase you away by pressuring a relationship, especially if that's not what you want.

"It's clear she likes you, too, ya know," Steve pointed out what he thought was the obvious.

"I know, I just. I don't wanna push her away by moving too fast. I don't think she's looking to date anybody right now,"

"If you don't ask, you'll never know."

He knew they were right. He needed to just bite the bullet and ask you outright. And he would.

But as he watches you glide around his kitchen, so at home, putting things back in their rightful places and throwing away the random garbage left behind, he thinks maybe not tonight… He doesn’t want to ask a question that might make you leave. But then again…what if it makes you stay?

"Chop chop, supersoldier," you admonish him as he continues to watch, staring dreamily at you. Your back is to him so you can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze.

Bucky follows your lead, tossing away the empty cups and putting away the leftover food and drinks while you wipe down the counter.

It really wasn't that much of a mess, but you're glad to get it cleaned now, so you won't have to worry about it tomorrow.

Wait...why would you be worried about it tomorrow? This isn't your apartment. God, you really are always over here, aren't you...

You turn to Bucky as he ties off the bag of trash.

You just look at him for a minute. Admiring him from mere feet away while he does the same to you. It's quiet between the two of you, but you can feel the charged silence as it brims with words unsaid.

You know what you want to do right now. But you do what you think you should instead.

"I guess I'll head out, then."

"Oh," he breathes.

"Oh?"

"I just, uh,” he shakes his head, "Never mind."

"No, what is it?" you prod, now entirely curious.

Bucky's bright eyes flash back up to yours and you see him search for what to say instead of saying what was on his mind.

"Your grapes," he remembers, turning to the fridge to get them for you, "you didn't eat them."

"Oh, yeah, well, too late now," you laugh softly.

"What's your resolution?" he asks.

"That's not how the grapes work, Bucky."

"Come on," he goads. "What's your resolution? I wanna know."

"Hmm. Well, good question," you think for a moment, watching him as he rinses off a bunch, then pulls two grapes from their stems. You mindlessly purse your lips as you think. "I want to be less scared," you start quietly, eyes meeting his intent gaze, when he looks back at you, "More confident," you add with a little nod.

"You, more confident?" he asks. "You're one of the most confident people I know. And I know Thor," he adds, getting the laugh he was hoping for from you.

You shrug, "Fake it til you make it." You give a soft, almost sad smile. It physically hurts him to see that hint of sadness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to do whatever he can to take it away. He hands you one of the two grapes and you raise a brow as you take it.

"And you?"

Your heart rate kicks up as he steps close, invading your space and standing right before you.

"I…would like to communicate better."

You huff a laugh, tittering, "Yeah, that's a good one."

"Let's both start right now," he says, holding up his grape.

"Okay. Let's," you hold up your own grape, bumping it into Bucky's as if you were toasting before you both pop your own grape into your mouth, stupid smiles on both of your faces.

As you finish, Bucky takes a step closer, surprising you as you look up to him. A bit of deja vu coming over you as you swallow hard. You wait a long breath for him to say something. And then he finally does.

"So. This is me, trying to communicate better: I'm not really sorry that I kissed you. Either time. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'd really like to kiss you again right now."

You're stunned silent and you think you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you blink up at him.

It takes you a moment before you think you can respond, but Bucky speaks again before you do.

"But I'm not going to do that. Because I want to do this right. In fact, I've been wanting to do this right for months."

"Bucky?" you murmur quietly.

"Doll, will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner and a movie this Friday?" he asks sincerely.

Your mouth is dry and you have to force yourself to swallow hard again so you can speak. "We always do dinner and movies on Fridays," you point out.

"I mean as a date," he clarifies, holding himself to his resolution.

You stare at him, unsure of what to say. Well, that's not true. You know what you want to say. You know what you want to do. You want to say yes, and you want to lean into him again and indulge him in one more kiss, because you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you. But that terrified voice in the back of your head is currently telling you to make a run for home as fast as you can. You want to fight the fear, really you do.

Bucky is keeping his resolution already, you're just not sure if you can do the same.

"Uhm," you drone awkwardly.

He laughs that nervous laugh you rarely get to hear...the one you love.

"Is that a yes?" he asks with a hopeful wince.

It takes you a second and then your mouth moves before your brain does as you respond to him.

You stand there, a bit shocked at your own answer, and not entirely sure where to go from here...

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #neighbor!bucky x reader #neighbor!bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x plus size reader #ciwywt #bucky x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[ghostlywhiskey]

lumberjack!price who lets you stay in his cabin after he finds you on the side of the road in your broken down car. insists that you come stay at his house for the remainder of the day into the morning since it's getting dark out and the weather forecast is saying it might snow - last thing he wants is for you to be stranded without a place to stay while the car sits in a repair shop. and doesn't want a 'pretty thing' like yourself staying alone in a motel.

lumberjack!price who tows your car to the local mechanic he knows before the two of you head back to his cabin for the night. tells the local mechanic, simon, who you find out is one of his friends, that he'll cover the cost of whatever is wrong with it and to try to make it a priority. and despite your protests, he tells you not to worry about it and that simon owes him anyway so the cost won't be too bad. what you don't know is that he texted simon later that night to take as long as possible fixing up your car.

lumberjack!price who doesn't alarm you at all despite being a complete stranger. he's hospitable, kind and attentive to you when you both arrive back at his home. the wood and pine smell comforting, reminding you of christmas candle scent when you enter. shows you to the guest room and grabs you a change of clothes, but apologizes for the only option being large sweatpants or plaid pajama pants and an worn tshirt of his. 'pretty much a bachelor pad if you can't tell,' he jokes and you tell him it's no problem at all. offers to make dinner while you make yourself comfortable and have a chance to wash up. has the fireplace going when you reemerge from a shower with wet hair dripping, parts of his worn tshirt clinging to your chest from the damp fabric. swears under his breath slightly at the sight of you, but you don't question it as he covers it up quickly by pretending he burnt himself sightly while cooking.

lumberjack!price who chuckled when you begged to clean up after dinner as it was the least you could do after all his help today. and this time, the sight of him after his own shower causing you to fumble some of the utensils in the sink, soap suds your excuse for the slippery silverware that clanks against the glass plates. his large frame mostly covered in body hair while his own pajama pants hang slightly low, a darkened area of hair creating an obviously happy trail. his belly slightly protruding, but firm nonetheless. or at least that is what you think if you were to touch it. nervous 'no, no. it's okay.' leaving your lips as you subside his worry that him being shirtless is making you uncomfortable, explaining it's just a habit since it's normally just him around.

#john price #john price x you #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price #lumberjack!price #these are my thoughts #i have more thoughts #anyway #nic talks price

[semisolidmind]

In your survivor au, what do you think DogDay's reaction would be anytime he found y/n with CatNap? (That includes mostly when catnap snags y/n for cuddles)

just curious lol I wanna hear your thoughts

rage.

dogday has very little tolerance for catnap's tomfoolery, especially in the first few days of their attempt at coexistence. he keeps a close eye on both catnap and y/n, just to make sure the cat doesn't try anything.

of course, he can't be with y/n all the time. so perhaps there's an instance where he, poppy, and kissy are out on a walk while y/n is in town; he doesn't expect them back for a while.

however, y/n gets home a bit early. catnap, noticing the lack of opposition, sees an opportunity.

he watches. he waits for the right moment. then he pounces.

with a small dosage of red smoke (not enough to fully knock them out, but enough to make them slow and groggy), catnap steals y/n away to the barn, picking them up by the back of their coat. they struggle weakly as he saunters into the barn, heaving himself and his quarry up into the loft in one jump.

he gently deposits y/n into his nest before curling up around them. he settles, ignoring their slurred admonishing in favor of rubbing his face against their hair. he purrs. he's just taking the attention he believes he's owed, after all. they're so doting on the other toys...it's only fair he get some of his savior's attention, too.

as the effects of the red smoke slowly wear off, y/n sighs and seems to accept their fate of being cuddled. they can't exactly move the heavy, powerful limbs holding them close.

so, they talk to catnap. they try to convince him that kidnapping them isn't the way to go about getting attention, but the feline simply gazes at y/n through lazily lidded eyes. when their pleas for freedom go unheard, y/n resigns themself to their fate; instead, they tell him about whatever it is they got done that day. at least the occasional twitch of a large purple ear lets them know that he's listening.

meanwhile, dogday and the girls are returning from their walk, flowers and a few foraged mushrooms in hand. dogday sees y/n's vehicle in front of the garage, and assumes they're in the house. except, when he goes inside, calling for them, there's no answer. poppy yells for them too, checking the rooms upstairs.

"they're not here!" she calls back to dogday.

a chill goes down his spine and his hackles immediately raise.

catnap.

dogday is out the front door in a flash, snagging his axe (it's a normal size, but it looks smaller in his hands) from the side of the house on the way.

he runs towards the barn, knowing that's where that thing took his angel.

dogday kicks the weathered double doors in, head snapping in the direction of the loft. just as he suspected, catnap has y/n trapped between his deadly claws, prone and vulnerable.

"catnap!" he roars in outrage. "i swear if you've hurt them in any way, i'll—!"

y/n calls his name, and he stops. through his rage, he sees them. they're...they're not hurt. though he's glad to see them unharmed, he won't be happy until they're safely away from his enemy. he hears y/n sigh tiredly.

this isn't the first time this has happened, and it won't be the last.

they sluggishly pull themselves from between catnap's paws, and though the cat grumbles his discontent, he's obviously not looking to start a fight with the pissed off dog still brandishing an axe down below. the look y/n gives him cows him even more. he looks away, and allows y/n the space to stand. as much as he wishes he could keep them, their ever-so-loyal hound won't allow it.

he'll have to be sneakier next time.

y/n shakily stands up. they've built up some tolerance to the red smoke, but... it can still knock them off their feet if they're not expecting it. they make their way to the lofts' rickety ladder, only taking a few steps down before dogday is there, gathering them into one arm (the other still holding his axe, eyes never leaving catnap and ready to swing the moment the feline moves).

y/n sighs again. they rest their head on dogday's shoulder, slumping down as he quickly gets them out of the barn. they hear more than see dogday slam the barns' doors shut. they can feel how his breathing slows from its angry seethe, calmer now that they're with him.

y/n can feel how the large canine presses his head to theirs, giving an affectionate nuzzle that earns a little laugh from them. he huffs a bit, still upset that he wasn't able to stop them from being nabbed in the first place.

on their way back into the house, dogday leaves his axe on the porch, closing and locking the front door behind them.

poppy and kissy are in the living room, and they watch dogday carry y/n upstairs. poppy shakes her head and sighs. she's really not sure why y/n won't just let dogday kill catnap, especially since the feline keeps doing stuff like this. she puts that thought to the side as she and kissy decide on a movie.

dogday takes y/n into their shared room. he lays them gently on the bed, helping them remove their shoes and coat. y/n groans and pulls themself under the covers. the smokes' effects will fully wear off in a couple of hours, but for now it feels like serious jetlag. y/n closes their eyes.

as they settle in, they hear dogday sigh. as expected, he begins to settle himself next to them, curling up and holding them close. one large hand rests on their back, gently stroking their shoulder. y/n nuzzles into the soft fur of his chest.

as they fall asleep under the watchful eye of their guard dog, y/n hopes they can maintain some semblance of peace between their family and the stray in the barn.

#uughh ooorgh this feels rushed but i needed it written down and outta my head

[yuyusuyu]

birthday kisses!

pairing. idol! song mingi x non idol! fem! reader

synopsis. you wake up feeling very parched and very in love with your boyfriend, song mingi. you admire his beauty and suddenly have the need to give him a kiss... too bad you're too shy.

warnings. pet names (tiny i literally saw someone say that mingi would call his s/o tiny and i literally died and i'm running with it now, baby, pretty/pretty girl), kisses (as an aroace person: ew), mingi being mingi (he is a menace himself he literally bites you)

genres. romance, fluff, established relationship

wc. 0.8k

a/n. reader has glasses because we are all blind in this today. also ! happy birthday to our lovely mingi :( (literally please ignore my last mingi oneshot. it was literally supposed to be up TODAY not two days early wtaf tumblr.....)

reblogs and comments are appreciated! helps with not getting shadowbanned!

YOU wake up suddenly, feeling very thirsty as you try to crane your neck back to see the stupid alarm clock you have sitting on top of your night stand. you can’t make out the numbers, and attempt to blindly reach out for your glasses when mingi grunts, trying to shove his nose further into the crook of your neck. it’s then that you remember that you fell asleep hugging your boyfriend while he rested his head on your chest, saying that listening to your heartbeat helps lull him to sleep while he had his arms tightly wrapped around your waist. you feel slightly embarrassed at the position you’re both in as you card your hand through his short-ish hair, your other hand resuming its previous mission of trying to grab your glasses from its place by the alarm clock.

after a few seconds of blindly reaching out for your glasses, you huff, deciding to just grab them later as you try to shimmy out of your boyfriend’s hold. mingi groans, tightening his grip. “what are you doing, tiny?”

“i’m thirsty,” you whisper. “i’ll be back before you know it.”

mingi sighs, “okay. don’t take too long, though,” he mumbles, attempting to open his eyes to look at you. “i just want to sleep the day away with you.”

you snort, now sitting up with your feet touching the cold floor. “baby, are you sure you don’t want to go out and do something? you only have today off, and you’ll be busy later at night for the live.”

the male shakes his head, stuffing his head into his pillow afterwards. “just wanna sleep with my pretty girl today…”

“even if it’s your birthday?”

mingi hums in response, and you laugh, quickly kissing the crown of his head and whispering happy birthday to him before pushing yourself up. when you’re in the kitchen, holding your glass of water, you purse your lips in thought, taking a sip from it.

you are definitely going to drag mingi out to do at least something today after he’s fully awake… which will probably be some time after one in the afternoon.

when you go back to the room, you happily crawl into the covers and mingi immediately pulls you into him, shoving his nose into your neck again. you laugh, wrapping an arm around his head and scratching his scalp softly. mingi hums, and he reminds you of a cat when he nuzzles his nose into—

“ow?” you yelp, bewildered as you push mingi away from you to see him smiling at you cheekily. “what was that for?” you pout, rubbing the spot mingi bit.

“nothing,” he replies. “let’s go back to sleep, yeah?”

you drop the subject and resume scratching his scalp. you don’t know how long it’s been when you decide to look down at the sleeping male. you can’t see mingi with how he has his face in your neck, so you lean back, almost cooing out loud at how adorable he looks with messy, oreo hair. you then trace over his eyebrows with a finger before lovingly caressing his cheek, eyes smiling along with your lips as you press quick kisses to the dots on his face. one kiss right beneath his eyebrow, one kiss on the top of his cheek, one kiss on his jaw, and one last kiss on his temple. your eyes then fall to his lips and you have the sudden urge to kiss them, but you flush in embarrassment at the thought of doing so.

unlike your boyfriend, you find it a little harder to initiate skinship.

well… only when you let yourself think about it just like now.

you settle with kissing the dot by his temple again, pulling back and gasping in surprise when mingi’s eyes fly open.

“what the…? mingi, since when—”

he cuts you off by leaning in, staring straight into your eyes. you attempt to lean back, eyes wide.

“well, if you won’t do it,” he says, licking his lips. “i will.”

mingi leans forward, his mission being to kiss you. you whine and cover your mouth, making him laugh as he gently pries your hands away.

“stop! i-i have morning breath!”

“okay, and? i don't care. c’mon pretty,” he says, chuckling. “let me have my birthday kiss.”

“stop,” you drawl. “when you say it like that, you know i’m going to cave in!”

mingi bites your cheek all of a sudden, pulling the flesh back as you squeal, laughing afterwards. “that’s why i said it. now give me my kiss before i bite you again.”

“you’re turning into wooyoung,” you huff, frowning as you settle down and admit defeat. “biting everyone out of nowhere.”

“i only ever bite you out of love,” he sings, pecking your nose quickly before kissing you.

the kiss is soft and fast. mingi opens his eyes to see your own flutter open, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already pressing his lips to yours again, the kiss being a little rougher than the previous one. it leaves you in a daze when he pulls back.

“w-why did you—”

mingi cuts you off by humming, pointing at his face afterwards. “give me more kisses, and you can't say no because it's my birthday.”

“you're abusing your birthday power,” you scoff, but nonetheless smile and pepper kisses everywhere on his face, making him grin. “happy birthday, mingi.”

#꒰💌꒱ drea's drabbles ! #yuyusuyu #cromernet #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez fluff #song mingi x you #song mingi x reader #song mingi x y/n #mingi x y/n #mingi x reader #mingi x you #mingi x female reader #mingi fluff #mingi imagines #mingi scenarios

[promiscuouscutie]

All Yours pt. 1

Ethan Landry x fem. Reader, reader is a little naive and Ethan’s obsessed, eventual smut

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 , Part 7, Part 8

Word count: 1979

Warnings for this part: uhhh drinking under 21, murder, mentions of vomit

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

You look at yourself in the mirror in disgust. You were dripping in beer liquid, courtesy to a sorority blonde devil named Michelle. Ironically, Michelle was dressed as an angel. It was meant to represent her ‘angelic personality.’ At least that’s what she put on her instagram caption for her costume reveal post. She hated you, but you never knew why. Did she have an actual reason, or did she just want to put others down? You just wanted her to stop talking to you. You wanted her to stop trying to spread rumors about you, when she didn’t even know what she was talking about. You wanted her to stop sending you threats on social media. She never bothered making anonymous accounts. She didn’t care if you knew it was her. She thought she walked on water, that she could do no wrong.

“Angelic personality. What a joke,” You said to yourself. You dig through your purse and pull out tissues, trying to wipe some of liquid off of your skin. You sniffed your dress and gagged; you stunk of cheap beer.

Ding! You pull out your phone and read the contact name: Cason. You pressed on the notification and read the message:

I’m here, at the party. Can we talk, bunny? I really owe you an explanation.

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Bunny, his nickname for you. The way he said it would make you smile, but not this time. The pet name barely made you react. Some part of you felt happy to get a text from him. He hadn’t texted you in weeks. He hadn’t spoken to you in person. Every time you tried to talk to him, he’d walk the other way.

Most of all, you felt awful. He used to flirt with you, just simple teasing and compliments during your tutor sessions. You didn’t realize his intentions right away. You just thought he was being kind. When he gave you the nickname, you thought it was a sign you were becoming close friends. You were wrong. During one of your tutoring sessions, he kissed you. You were so shocked, but you didn’t kiss him back.

He had a girlfriend. He still does, the girl you hate more than anyone. Michelle, the devil’s wife herself. You pushed him away and ended the tutoring session early.

Despite your hatred for Michelle, you didn’t want to break up a relationship. But why would he make a move? You didn’t understand that part, but maybe he’d explain himself. Maybe he could explain why Michelle spread the rumor that you made the move on him, knowing that he had a girlfriend. The rumor made traction around campus, making you lose some customers for your job. People saw you as a home wrecker, a horrible girl.

You sniffled. God, don’t start crying. It’s going to be okay. Just hear him out. You took a deep breath and reply to his message:

Should we find somewhere private to talk? Maybe you could take me on a walk or something? -you

He read it immediately.

Let’s talk in an hour. Michelle’s slobbering all over me rn. -Cason

This was fine. You were going to be fine. He’d explain himself, clear everything up. He could apologize for the kiss and even try to debunk the rumor his girlfriend started. But why didn’t he in the first place? A good question, one you couldn’t answer yourself. Only Cason could, and he would. You were positive he had a good reason for it. You just couldn’t figure out what it could be.

You still smelled like beer. But who doesn’t at this party? There’s a mix of alcohol and weed in the air that’s traveled to the first and second floor of this frat house. You adjusted your sparkly, lavender wings to make them less crooked. The purple glitter on your eyes still stayed perfect, which you were relieved about.

It took forever to put it on. Your roommate Anika had to assist you with it, but she didn’t complain. She was obsessed with your costume. She thought you made the perfect fairy! Your dress was a royal purple and made of silk. It had lace on the chest, giving it a lingerie look. You had a flower crown on earlier, but it found itself on Mindy’s head halfway through the party. You didn’t mind of course; Mindy looks great with it on.

There was a knock at the door. “Yo hurry up in there!”

“Coming!” You shouted. You grabbed your purse and threw away your garbage quickly before the stranger let out another complaint. You opened the door and rushed past the random guy. You looked around the room, trying to find a familiar face in the crowd. You spot a shirtless cowboy: Chad Meeks-Martin, the frat boy and self-acclaimed feminist. He spots you from a distance and waves. “Y/N! Come have a drink!” He called out. You walk over to him and catch the beers can he throws at you. As you opened it, you spot a familiar face.

“Hey Ethan! I didn’t know you were coming,” you smiled sweetly. He smiled back at you, right before glancing at the floor awkwardly.

“It was a last minute decision,” Chad explains. He puts his arm around Ethan, pulling him close. “I managed to convince him to come hang out,” Chad added with a joking tone. Ethan rolled his eyes at his friend’s words.

“You make me sound like a hermit,” Ethan comments.

“That’s cause you are, my boy. You’re a hermit crab.”

“Don’t tease the guy! He’s just trying to have a good time,” you lightly pushed Chad’s shoulder. You took a big sip from your beer and looked around the room again. Ethan’s eyes moved down your body, fully focusing on your costume. He took notice to the fishnet stockings on your legs. He liked them. He liked them a lot. Your eyes landed on Ethan’s face, making him avoid eye contact. You caught him staring at you. You thought it was a little cute, but probably just a coincidence. After all, how could sweet, quiet, adorable Ethan look at you like that?

You felt a a shoulder hit yours hard. You watch Michelle walk past you, snickering to her friends. She had two drinks in hand, and her angel wings were practically almost falling off her body. You winced as your rubbed your shoulder as Ethan and Chad watched the blonde walk up the stairs.

“What a bitch,” Chad says bluntly.

“Yeah. Major bitch,” Ethan agrees. You were a little surprised by Ethan. You never heard him say something like that before, and his face! He was practically glaring at her as she disappeared. If looks could kill, Michelle would be dead by now. You awkwardly laugh it off, trying to move on. You reach into your purse and pull out your phone.

I ran into Michelle. I take it she’s done slobbering all over you? -you

He didn’t answer right away. It took him maybe five or six minutes to reply:

She didn’t give you any problems, did she?-Cason

Nothing too horrible. Can we talk now?-you

You watched the thinking bubble appear quickly, making you smile.

Give me a few more minutes, bunny. I’ll come find you when I’m done, okay?-Cason

You sighed in disappointment. You felt guilty for being impatient. He’s trying to have fun, just like you! You shove your phone back into your pocket and brushed your dress down.

“Let’s just keep the drinks coming, huh Chad?” You shake your beer can. Chad points at your face, grinning. “I like the way you’re thinking tonight, Y/N.” You both laugh as you chug your drinks, Ethan drinking his silently.

He watched you take drink after drink. After two more beer cans, you were cut off. Chad banned you from the fridges and coolers, but you managed to find one laying around. You just wanted to make your brain become sludge tonight. You wanted to forget your problems for just a few more hours. Fortunately for you, it was working. You found yourself wandering up the stairs, trying not step in vomit. You gag at the sight, trying to hold back any possible bile from your throat. When you made it to the top, you said “yes!” under your breath. That was your greatest accomplishment for the night.

You walk past rooms, trying to find an empty room to lock yourself in and close your eyes. You thought you found one, not seeing anyone on the bed. The music was so loud. The song Heartbeat by Childish Gambino started to play, and you dramatically sighed. “I love this song!” You grin. You shut the door behind you and throw yourself on the bed. How many hours had it been since you showed up to the party? Two? Three? Four? One? You couldn’t quite focus with the music playing in the background. You could practically feel the music’s beat inside your chest, matching your own heartbeat. You heard thumps near you, thinking it was just from the music. But you were wrong. You look to your left, seeing a tall, cloaked figure. You recognized the look immediately.

“Really? Another Ghostface? I’ve seen like two of you at this party already!” You sit up and stare up at the masked stranger. They tilt their head, staring at you. You notice the red knife in their hand and try to grab it. They move it away from you immediately, making you whine.

“Let me see it! Can’t I hold it? Just once?” You bat your eyelashes at them. To your surprise, it worked. They wiped the red liquid on their sleeve and handed the knife to you.

They still hadn’t said a single word to you. They just watched you grip the handle, swinging it around like it was a toy. You thought it was, at least. You tried to stand up, but you wobbled. The Ghostface grabbed your arms and helped you stand up straight. You looked up at the masked stranger and smiled. “Thank you, sweet thing!” Your feet feel stuck to the wooden floor, as if they were superglued down. Their grip on your arms felt stronger than before. “Can you..can you let me go please? I need to pee,” You squeak out. One of their hands lifts up and cups your face. The leather glove felt strange against your skin. You felt a fluttery feeling inside your stomach. It was a new feeling. They tuck some of your hair behind your ear, revealing one of your collarbones that hid underneath.

“Use the one downstairs. The one up here is broken,” the Ghostface spoke with a strange voice. Did they have a voice modulator? That’s pretty cool. You nodded along, as if stuck in a trance. They loosened their grip on you, finally letting you go. You reach for your purse on the bed, bending over. You felt the cold air on your upper thighs and ass as your short dress lifted up. You didn’t even think about how you could’ve been flashing this stranger. You didn’t actually think you were, but you were. They stared at the exposed skin they could see until you stood up straight again.

You turned back around to face the Ghostface. “Don’t be a lady killer, Mr. Ghostface.” You blew a kiss at them and walked out of the room, trying not to wobble or stumble again.

If you had gone into the upstairs bathroom, you would’ve found a very dead Michelle laying in the tub with her throat slit. But you didn’t. You believed the Ghostface, naively and foolishly.

Who knew how much of a problem this would be in the future?

Not you, but Ghostface would. Ethan would.

#ethan landry #scream vi #ethan landry x reader #female reader #18+ content #eventual smut #young and naive #ethan landry imagine #obsessive love #tw murder #mask kink #ghostface #corruption kink #manipulation #ethan landry smut

[riordanness]

champagne problems — [l.laurence]

wordcount: 3.2K

warnings: angst

requested: no

a/n: i really love this fic, i spent a super long time on it and it took me ages but i love it so i hope you love it too &lt;3

“Thank you,” I tell my dance partner, another nameless, tasteless, personality-less boy I will never see again. I smile and curtsy, and turn away, as I do every time. No one will ever fill the hole in my heart the way that he did.

I spot Amy talking to Fred, and weave my way towards them. I don’t know anyone else by anything more than name, and it’s awkward. It’s stiff, it’s strange, and it’s uncomfortable. Trying to make friends with these men, men who couldn’t care less about my feelings or my ambitions; just my pretty face and my willingness to marry. Once they discovered I didn’t have my heart in that; at least not anymore, they lost all interest in me.

“Hey, y/n,” Amy greets me, offering me a glass of what I think is champagne.

“Thank you,” I tell her, and take a sip.

“How are you enjoying the party?” Fred addresses me.

I shrug, and try to smile. “It is alright.”

Amy has a sympathetic look on her face. She knows me a little bit too well. All the March sisters do, as well as… him. He knew me better than anyone. Or at least that’s what I thought.

“Laurie!” I laughed, giggling so hard I couldn’t even escape him. His arms caught me tightly, poking and tickling my waist. I squirmed, but the pure joy of being with him was almost overwhelming.

“What?” he teased. “What’s wrong, y/n? Hmm?”

“S-Stop!” I gasped for air, playfully hitting him on the arm. Well, it was a pretty hard punch, actually.

“Ow! Y/n!” Laurie released me and winced, grabbing his arm.

“I’m sorry!” I tried to stop laughing.

He stared at me for a heartbeat, and just as my smile faded, he then grinned. “Gotcha.”

His happiness was infectious. I was smiling again, laughing again, purely and completely content to live forever in this moment.

“Y/n.”

Amy’s voice is a warning, and my brain only hears it a minute after I should. “Hmm?” I ask, glancing up at her. She’s used to my daydreaming, so I assume she’ll just repeat her comment, but Amy isn’t looking at me. She’s staring sternly at the staircase at the entrance of this ballroom.

I turn, and there’s a half moment of anticipation. Who has arrived?

Then, I see him. His wrinkled white shirt, untied bow tie. The glass of alcohol held lazily in his hand. His unruly curls are even more uncombed and unkempt than usual. His eyes are light with mirth and dull from the drink. Two women are fawning over him from either side, and he’s drinking up the attention more eagerly than the champagne.

Laurie.

My breath catches in my throat, and I try to swallow the sudden lump there. “Ah, I see.”

Fred puts a hand on my shoulder, a protective, big-brother gesture. I really appreciate him. No matter how many times I end up basically third-wheeling him and Amy when they go out, he never minds. Amy has told him all about what Laurie did to me, so he decided to step in and try to help fill that hole.

And I love him for it, but no one will ever be capable of making me whole the way Laurie did. And I’m not sure if anyone ever will be able to.

I take a cautious sip of champagne, watching as Laurie drapes himself on a lounge on the opposite side of the room. The girls with him sink to their knees on either side of his body, fawning over the boy.

I don’t care how much expression is visible on my face right now; I can’t do anything but stare in a mix of disgust, disappointment and utter disbelief.

Then, he sees me. His eyes clear a little, they get wide and surprised all of a sudden. He attempts to sit up a little straighter.

I can’t watch anymore. I turn and shove my glass unceremoniously in Fred’s hands, and walk out of the room as quickly as I can manage, heading to the little moonlit garden path I know awaits me outside.

I laugh as Jo tells me about her plans for a new story.

“I want to turn this one into a play,” she adds. “And you should be in it! The main character is just the perfectest part for you to play, y/n.”

I roll my eyes teasingly. “First of all, ‘perfectest’ isn’t a word. And second, you know I don’t act. I’m not going to be any good!”

Jo shrugs. “Won’t know until you’ve tried it.”

I don’t answer, my gaze sliding back to all the dancers on the floor. I wish someone would ask me to dance. But I know no one here other than the March girls. And I can’t exactly dance with Jo. She has a burnt dress and isn’t allowed to dance. Not that she minds; she says she’d rather eat a stick than dance with any of the boys here.

Then, I see a boy with dark curls and pretty eyes staring at me from across the room. I tilt my head, and give a little wave and a half-smile.

He returns it immediately and makes his way over towards us.

“Hello there,” he greets me. “I’m Laurie.”

Jo looks at him. “You’re the Laurence boy. You live near us.”

Laurie nods his head at her. “Miss March.”

“Please. Call me Jo. Everyone does.”

“Jo.”

Laurie then glances at me. “I don’t think I know you.”

I hold my hand out to him. “Y/n, Mr Laurie. I’m friends with the Marches.”

He smiles again, and it’s so pretty my chest hurts. Is this what falling in love is like? Is it supposed to be painful? Supposed to feel like you’re being ripped apart and glued together all at the same time?

I lean myself on the wall outside, my head against the cool stone bricks. My head is pounding, my temples aching.

I didn’t think that seeing him again would have such a strong reaction from me, but apparently even my heart rate still hurts because of him.

I can hear footsteps, but I don’t have the energy to hide my distress from anyone right now. Hopefully whoever it is will just walk by and leave me be.

“Y/n?”

The sound of Laurie’s voice will forever bring me the biggest rush of emotions in the world, but where it used to invite happiness and joy, now entices fear and anxiety and anguish.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight. “Hello Laurie.” I’m surprised at how even my voice sounds. I expected it to come out shaky and distant.

“Hey.” He sounds unsure of what he’s doing. “What’s happening with you?”

My eyes are still closed, and I still have my head against the rocky wall. I shrug one shoulder. “Nothing much, thanks for asking.”

There’s three heartbeats of silence.

Then: “How are you?”

I sigh, open my eyes. “Laurie. Why are you doing this?”

His eyes are unreadable. “Doing what?”

“You know what.”

“Y/n, I…” His voice fades. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

I give him a hard look. “Sorry? Laurie, this isn’t about what happened all those years ago. I’m over it; I’m over you.” I was lying through my teeth, but I refused to give him the satisfaction that knowledge would bring.

I sigh. “What are you doing, Laurie?” I wave my hand at him helplessly. “Drinking, probably gambling again? Fawning over random girls? Laurie, you’re better than this. And you know it, too. You’re throwing your life away, and I…” I swallow. “As your friend, I can’t just sit and watch. You need to stop this. Go home, go see your grandfather. Stop destroying the little boy he used to be so proud of.”

I turn, and walk away, leaving Laurie out there in the moonlight.

I don’t breathe until I reach Fred and Amy again. They’re laughing and drinking champagne together, but when they see me, the conversation dies.

“Hey, you okay?” Amy asks.

I try to nod, then tears glisten in my eyes and I have to drop. I shake my head, meeting my friend’s eyes. “I’m gonna go home,” I tell her.

She nods in understanding, her eyes searching mine, desperate for answers.

“I told him what he needed to hear,” I say quickly. “But—he still doesn’t know how much it hurts. And it hurts just to see him. It hurts deep in my soul. I—I can’t—“ I have to force myself to take a deep breath, sobs building in my chest.

I leave, Amy’s hand squeezing mine as I go.

I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling as ‘Aunt’ March chatters about how Fed and Amy are soon to be engaged, so I really must hurry and marry soon.

“Are you even listening to me, y/n?” she asks sharply.

I sit up straight in an instant. “Uh—yes of course, Ms March.”

“How many times must I ask you to call me Aunt,” she sighs. “You’re practically family at this point, my dear.”

I smile. “Alright, Aunt March.”

“Very good. Now, as I was saying…”

I zone back out as she talks, my mind drifting instead to Laurie. I truly had thought I was over him, or at least pretty much so. Rather, the moment I saw him, I thought I might explode. Seeing his smile, his eyes, the way he stands, it made all the memories just come flooding back.

“Laurie—“ I call, walking into his room one pretty Saturday morning. “Get up lazy bones. We’ve got things to do!”

The only response is a groan from underneath Laurie’s covers. I sit on the edge and poke at him.

“Come on!” I beg. “We’re gonna be late, you know.”

Laurie’s curls peep out. “Late for what?” he asks groggily.

I resist the urge to giggle. “Late for our adventures, of course. We have a walk planned, and you promised me you’d teach me fencing this weekend, and you have to keep that promise. It was a pinky promise.”

Laurie groans again. “I don’t want to get up, y/n.”

“What? Even to spend time with me?”

“Yes. Go away.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Theodore Laurence, not until you get—up—“ I poke him in the shoulder twice.

“Y/n!” he whines.

I laugh. “Yes, Laurie?”

He sticks his head fully out now, and looks at me. “You’re my best friend, and I love you, but I am not getting up yet.”

I ignore the flutter in my chest and grab his arm, pulling him hard. “Yes you are! I promised your grandfather I’d force you to exercise while he’s gone, and I intend to keep my promise.”

“Fine,” Laurie relents. He allows me to drag him out of bed, and after he’s dressed, the two of us head off into our favourite trail in the woods.

My heart hurts, and my head hurts, and my eyes hurt. I want to get up, go for a walk or something, but I can’t find it in me to do so. So I simply close my eyes and continue to lay face-up along the foot of my four-poster bed.

It doesn’t seem like long at all before someone is tapping my shoulder.

“Sorry, Amy,” I mumble, eyes still closed. “Did I drift off?”

“It’s… not Amy,” a quiet voice answers.

I sit up straight immediately, and come face to face with none other than Laurie Laurence.

“Hi.” He almost says it like a question.

I frown a little, unsure of the nature of this unexpected visit. “Hello, Laurie.”

He winces a little. “Look, you don’t have to say anything. You said plenty last night.”

“You needed to hear it,” I retort.

“I know.” He lets out his breath. “I’ve been thinking, all night, about what you said. You were right, you were right about all of it. I am wasting my life, I’m ruining everything because of one stupid mistake that unravelled it all. And–and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you, in all the ways that I have. You don’t deserve a friend like me; you never did.”

He stands to go, and for a heartbeat, I think about letting him. But then,

“Laurie!”

“Laurie!”

I see him, walking along the street as I pass on the other side. I immediately break away from Jo, who I was escorting to town. “I'll see you later, Jo.”

She smiles knowingly and shoos me off. “Bye, y/n/n.”

“Laurie!” I call again, running to catch up with him.

At the sound of my voice, he half-turns, double-takes, and then his face breaks into a wide grin, the way he always saves just for me. “Y/n!”

I run right until I’m in his arms. “I missed you,” I sigh into his hair. “When did you get back?”

I feel him smiling. “Only just this morning. I was going to surprise you, but you beat me to it, tesoro mio.”

“Laurie, you know I don’t speak Italian,” I laugh, pulling away slightly to look at him. “I’m not the one who just went to Italy for a year. And don’t use it without telling me the meanings; it’s mean! I never know what you’re saying.”

Laurie has a faint smirk on his face. “Sorry, tesoro mio.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me,” he replies easily, and oh, how badly I want to agree with him out loud. Yes, I wanted to say. Yes, I’m head over heels in love with you.

So I do say it. “Yes,” I say, “I do.”

Laurie blinks at me. “What?”

My mouth opens a little, but for a second, nothing comes out. “I do love you,” I say slowly.

Laurie stares at me. “Why?”

“Everything, Laurie,” I sigh. “You’re kind, and beautiful, and you understand me better than even I can. You’re always there to cheer me up when I need that, and when I’m sad, you’re all too happy to give me your shoulder to cry on. You always know exactly what I’m thinking, and feeling, and you always know the right thing to say. You don’t mind my silly ramblings, or fantasies, and you don't care what anyone thinks of you. You’re always the person I want to be around; Laurie, you make me so happy. I love you, Laurie Laurence, and I think I always have.”

There’s silence for a minute, just a heartbeat too long to feel comfortable. All I can hear are the birds in the trees above us, but their songs sound alarming.

Laurie looks away, then at the sky, and finally back at me. His tongue swipes his lower lip in a way that I know is nervous.

“Y/n,” he says, and his tone instantly crushes me. “I—that’s extremely sweet and beautiful and I love you too, but…”

My heart sinks. “But you love Jo.” A part of me had always known, but I’d tried to convince myself otherwise. Clearly, my instinct had been correct.

“I can’t help it!” Laurie tries to justify himself, but he has no reason to. He can’t help who he’s fallen in love with, just as I cannot help falling in love with him. “I love you, y/n, I truly do. You’re my best friend… but the love I feel for Jo, it’s different. And you’re not her. You will never, and can never be her.”

I feel like someone has ripped my heart from my chest, stepped on it, thrown it into a frozen lake, and shoved it back inside of me. All I can manage is a nod.

“You should probably tell her then,” I whisper, and I turn to go. I can’t bear looking at him any longer.

That was the last time I’d seen Laurie for a very long time. I’d left for Europe with Amy, leaving Laurie and Jo to have a life together, if that’s what they wanted. Turns out Jo never saw him in that way, and he was rejected by her later that very same day.

I was still amazing friends with all the March girls, and I still cradled my childhood memories close to my heart.

But my heart has never healed. Every time Laurie Laurence was on my mind, it stung like only yesterday. Any day that a memory of those long walks, the silly fights, the hugs and dances, the inside jokes and dumb decisions came to me, I’d break down and cry.

“Laurie!”

He stops at the sound of my voice, turns, and his green eyes meet mine. He stares, waiting for me to speak.

“Don’t leave,” I say softly. “Please. Don’t make the mistake I did.”

He turns to fully face me now. “What mistake?”

I let out a breath. “Running. When someone needed me most.”

His eyes clear in understanding. I missed this about him, the way he’d always know exactly what I meant by everything. I never had to explain anything, because Laurie knew my heart. He always understood what I was trying to say, no matter what.

“Y/n—“

I hold my hand to stop his words. “Don’t say anything,” I tell

him. “You don’t have to. You have never, and will never, be under any obligation to return the feelings I have for you. That’s not your fault, and it wasn’t back then, and I’m sorry that I dropped you out of my life after that day. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when Jo turned you down, I’m sorry I never replied or even read your letters. I—“

“You never read my letters?” Laurie’s voice sounds broken.

I stop. “No. I—I didn’t.”

Laurie looks down, his forehead scrunching together. “No wonder…” he mutters. “You… you had no idea.”

Now it’s my turn to frown. “No idea about what?”

He glances up, his eyes searching mine, for what I don’t know. “I wrote to you, y/n. Dozens of times. I poured my heart out into those letters. I told you how much I missed you, how badly I was hurting over what I’d said to you that day. I—I told you how Jo helped me to realise that it really was you all along. I’ve been in love with you since I first met you, y/n, and I never stopped. I just didn't realise it. But when you never wrote back, I assumed that was your answer.”

“Oh, Laurie,” I whisper, tears in my voice. “I’m so sorry.” A million thoughts are racing through my mind, but one rises above the others.

“Is it still true?”

He hesitates. “That I love you?”

I nod once. “Yeah.”

“It will always be true.”

And for the first time in a long while, I feel at home again.

#laurie laurence #little women #laurie x reader #laurie laurence x reader #theodore laurence #theodore laurence x reader #little women fanfiction #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet

[viennakarma]

Satisfaction [Part 2]

PART 2 OF SATISFACTION

Summary: Four times Lewis tried to apologize, and one time he didn't need to.

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: female!reader, apologetic!Lewis (finally), physiotherapist!reader, a little bit of romance, Lewis is trying, reader is more forgiving than the author would be, cursing, a bit angsty, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Note: I'm so sorry for taking so long with this! I had a writer's block specifically with this one. For everyone who sent me asks about it, I read everything, sorry if I didn't reply to all! Luckily, one dramatic anon sent me an ask saying they would graduate college with a doctorate before this came out, and it made me laugh out loud BUT it actually sparked something in my brain and I managed to write, lol. So, thanks, Dramatic Anon, I owe you one :D

I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes (haven't had the time to proofread).

Find me on Twitter!

I.

“Hey, Lewis! How are you doing?” Angela said as soon as she picked up his call, and Lewis held his breath before answering.

“Yeah, uh, I’m alright-”, he scratched his face nervously.

“I hope you’re not giving Y/N a hard time anymore, yeah?” Angela joked a little, her voice light.

“Oh. You know about that?”

“Yeah, I called her a few days ago to check in how’s the work and she mentioned you were not very receptive,” Angela said and Lewis noticed that, even saying that, you didn’t call him what he was. A complete prick. “And since she didn’t call again, I assumed things got better between you two.”

“Well, about that-” Lewis sighed, not knowing.

“What?” Angela paused, her voice suddenly serious again.

“She resigned. And it was entirely my fault.” He ripped the band-aid off.

“Lewis, what the actual fuck?!”

“I was awful to her. Way worse than I assume she told you. And before you call me every name under the sun, I need to contact her and apologize. Unfortunately, she blocked my number now, so if you can kindly let me know her address, so I can apologize.”

“You better fix this mess, Lewis.” Angela said before ending the call, as less than a minute later, a text popped up on his screen, your address. Which was in London, not very far from his own neighborhood.

Lewis sent flowers to your place with a small note apologizing and asking you to unblock him. When you didn’t answer and didn’t unblock him, he called the florist he had ordered to double check if you had received the flowers. You did. So you just didn’t want to talk to him. He kept sending a bouquet every day for the next three days. On the fourth day, as he was back home, he decided to go to your place himself.

He brought another bouquet, ringing the bell in your house. He rose the bouquet to cover his face, and he heard your voice, opening.

“Hi there, buddy! If I give you a hundred pounds, would you not bother bringing these flowers here? Just- throw them on the bin or something-” You stopped abruptly as the flowers lowered revealing not the young delivery man who’s been bringing flowers to your place every single day, but Lewis Hamilton himself.

“So you’re not even receiving the flowers?” He asked, sounding hurt.

“I got the first one, and I have no interest in anything that comes from you,” you managed to say, looking him straight in the eyes.

You looked exhausted, your hair was messy and your face lacked any makeup. But worse of all, you looked hurt and angry. 

“Wait, let me just- let me apologize, I can explain even if it’s not-” He dropped the bouquet, pleading.

“Just fuck off, ok? You have not a single reason to be here today.”

“I was an ass to you and-”

“And now we’re nothing. We are just strangers, nothing more, nothing less. Fuck off!” You said and didn’t even give him a second before slamming the door on his face.

II.

So the flowers were a no.

And he wasn’t sure where to go from that, since he couldn’t come up with any other way to make you at least give him a chance to talk.

He was still trying to think of something when he crossed paths with Oscar Piastri during media day. Lewis stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the rookie driver munching on a little protein bar, the package showing it was the same as you had offered him weeks earlier.

“Hey, there, Oscar!” Lewis greeted him, “if you don’t mind me asking. Where did you get this?” He pointed to the little package in his hand.

“Oh, Lando’s new PT! She’s covering for Jon as he’ll be a few weeks on paternity leave.”

“Oh, is she here?”

“At McLaren, yes.”

Lewis nodded, going straight there, not bothering with explaining why he was there just walking in. He found you in a small room with Lando. You were guiding him through a stretching session with a silicone stretching. Lando was telling you something and you were laughing, a hand on his shoulder as Lando pulled his arms in and out.

“-no way you said that! Poor thing, she must have been scared!” You said, then you two laughed.

You were looking healthier than the last few times he had seen you. You looked like you had been sleeping well, and your hair was pretty, and you were wearing make up.

As Lewis approached, and you noticed his presence, you stopped laughing, face getting serious and focused on Lando.

“Oh, hey man!” Lando greeted him, smiley and unaware of the thing between you two.

“Hi. Y/N, can I talk to you? I just need one minute then I’ll leave you alone.”

You scoffed but didn’t look at him, and Lando looked from your face to Lewis’ confused with the tension suddenly so thick he would be able to cut it with a knife.

“Y/N, can you just-”

“You’re all good, Lando. Tomorrow we do another session an hour before Free Practice, and then a stretching session between FP1 and FP2.”

Lando nodded, unsure of what to do so he just watched as you turned away and packed your bag, leaving with long strides through the door. 

“Mate, I don’t know what the fuck you did, because I’ve never seen her be mean ever since I met her. Good luck, though, seems like you need it.” Lando said, leaving to the opposite side.

Lewis muttered “fuck” before going after you. He found you outside the motorhome, and ran up to block your path, but he miscalculated and you ended up running straight into him.

“What the fuck? Dude, just leave me alone!” You tried walking past him but he blocked you again.

“Please, I’m so sorry! Really, I am, I was such a dick to you and you didn’t deserve any of that.”

You didn’t look at his eyes, adjusting your bag as you sighed.

“I just- I don’t understand why you are doing this. I’m no one, I’m nothing. Just go on about your life.”

“No, no- You’re not nothing. I’m really sorry for the way I treated you when all you offered me was kindness.”

“Fine! Ok.” you muttered, seemingly exhausted, “Can I go now?”

He knew you didn’t actually forgive him, so he just let you go because he didn’t want to pressure you into something you were visibly not ready for. It didn’t mean he would give up, just that he needed a different approach.

III.

Lewis managed to find out that you’d stay a few more weeks working with Lando, so he arranged a well crafted plan to have you listen to him.

Desperate times asked for desperate measures.

So he managed to talk Lando into letting him drive you to the track that weekend, you two would have time to talk on the drive. He waited behind the wheel watching as you went to the backseat to leave your bags, then you opened the passenger door, smiling and chatting. But you stopped smiling as soon as you sat down and noticed him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, sounding more annoyed than angry.

“I’m your ride to the track today.”

“I’d rather not,” you muttered, removing the seat belt you had just put on.

“There’s no one else to take you there, please, just let us go,” he asked softly. You sighed, putting on the seat belt again and he smiled reaching the cup holder and offering you a cup of coffee, “got you a coffee.”

“Thanks,” you took it begrudgingly, but as you took a sip, you noticed it was your favorite, “how do you know I like this coffee?”

“You told me, during one of our sessions.”

“I thought you weren’t listening to a single word I said,” you scoffed, almost disdainful. He took it, because taking your anger was little compared to what he did to you.

“I listened to you.”

“Weird way of showing, then.”

You stared at the road he was softly driving. You didn’t like his company, that much was clear, but he was on a mission, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to properly apologize. 

“I don’t even know why you treated me like trash,” you muttered suddenly, sniffling like you were trying to contain the tears, “just- I was so happy, you know? I’ve always been a fan of Formula 1, watched it growing up and everything. Then I get here all happy to achieve the greatest dream and I just get treated like shit from day one. I tried to be funny, I tried to be kind, I tried to be silent, and none of it worked. I don’t understand what you want from me now! I’m a person too, ok? I get sad and frustrated, and I have my own problems, but I don’t go around making everyone else’s lives shit just because I’m mad!”

“Yes, you are right. I treated you like shit when you never deserved it. I really regret it, for what it's worth,” He sighed, looking at you for a moment before focusing on the road, “my life was shit. I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth. I was just coming out of a relationship that I thought meant a lot to me, and I just lost Angela, who is one of my closest friends, and I was on the verge of losing my seat. It felt like everything was going wrong for a few weeks.”

That made you pause, turning to stare at him.

“What do you mean, losing your seat?” You sounded genuinely curious, and even a little worried.

“The negotiations for a new contract weren’t going ahead, and I was really worried Mercedes was going to get rid of me.”

“But you’re like- one of the GOATs! Why would they lose you?” Now you sounded exasperated, like you couldn't believe that. 

“Well, now everything is alright and signed, but it felt like I was really at risk back then.”

You stayed silent for a few minutes, mulling over his words, trying to wrap your head around his excuses. You were thoughtful the rest of the drive, until Lewis pulled up in a parking lot at the track. Finally, you nodded to yourself.

“I forgive you, Lewis. Just- Don’t do that to anyone ever again, it’s not cool,” you said, unlocking the seat belt, “thank you for the ride and for the effort in apologizing. Goodbye, Lewis.”

You took your bags from the backseat and left after waving at him again. It felt like a closed chapter to you, and you could bury whatever resentment you felt towards him. It was freeing in a way.

IV.

Lewis didn’t see you for a couple more race weeks, despite casually walking in front of McLaren’s garage and hospitality. He couldn’t catch a glimpse of you and he genuinely worried that your last goodbye was definitive.

Fortunately he saw you again late at night after a race. Almost everyone had left already, and Lewis had a long debriefing meeting with his team, so it was sheer luck to find you on the way to the parking lot, where you were standing against the wall, hugging yourself under a big coat and holding your bags. You seem worried and unwell.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound like he wasn’t ecstatic to see you again, “are you ok?”

“Yeah, um- I missed my ride back to the hotel, so I’m trying for an uber or something,” you said, but Lewis unnoticed how you were pale and your lips looked dry.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You look like you’re about to pass out.” He pointed, and you breathed in, slowly. You felt very, very cold, with shivers up your body that you miserably trying to contain.

“I’ve got a little fever,” you mentioned, finally. Lewis raised his hand and touched your forehead, feeling it way more warm than a little fever.

“Little fever? You’re burning!” He exclaimed, putting his own Mercedes coat over you, then taking your bags and putting them over his shoulder, “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back.”

“You don’t have to, really-”

“I’m not leaving you here in the late hours of the night while having a fever! Now, come on!”

He held your forearm, worried you’d stumble and fall or something. With a big umbrella to face the rain, he guided you to his car, where a driver was waiting. The two of you sat on the backseat as Lewis instructed the driver to take you to the hotel.

“Should we take you to see a doctor or something?” Lewis asked.

“No, don’t worry, I already took an antipyretic. It should work soon.”

Back in the hotel, Lewis accompanied you up to your room even when you wanted to refuse, but he said he was worried, and it felt honest, so you let him take you up. He didn’t let you say anything as he pushed the door of your room and walked you inside.

“Are you still feeling cold?” He asked.

“Yes,” you put your bags away, but you watched as Lewis went into your luggage, “um- excuse me?” you crossed your arms, annoyed at him going through your things.

“Change into this, it will keep you warm,” he tossed you a sweater and matching pants, “I’ll ask room service for soup, so you can warm up.”

Huffing, you went into the bathroom and changed, glad because you were in fact a little bit warmer. You wore socks for the cold and got into bed, where Lewis helped tuck you in, pulling the duvet tight around you.

“Why are you doing all this? We’re just strangers, Lewis.” You shook your head, watching as he walked around the bed and sat beside you over the duvet.

“We’re not strangers, and I wanted to help,” he shrugged.

“We are strangers, we know nothing about each other,” you muttered.

“Well, I’m Lewis, my favorite color is purple and I have a dog named Roscoe,” he said which made you chuckle a little, “there, not strangers anymore.”

“Well, I’m Y/N, my favorite color is yellow and I don’t have a pet yet, but hopefully soon.”

Lewis eyed you carefully.

“I know you’re with McLaren on a temporary contract, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to come back to Mercedes after that,” he said, slowly. You sighed, shaking your head.

“I won’t go back, Lewis.” You said softly, for him to know you weren’t angry anymore, but the world had spun, life went on…

“But- Ellie said you were such a big fan! It’s ok if you don’t want to work with me anymore, I’ll understand. But I don’t think it’s fair that you lose your chance in such a big dream because of an asshole like me!”

“There are always other dreams to have, Lewis. When a door closes, others may open,” you untucked your arm so you could hold his arm in comfort. He held your hand, and when he felt your cold hand, he rubbed it softly, to warm you up.

“It’s not fair-”

“Lewis, I’m moving to Madrid in a few weeks.”

He stopped, visibly deflated hearing your words.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve never-”

“Lewis, it’s not because of you,” you pushed the duvet, freeing yourself so you could sit up beside him, backs to the headboard, “I got an amazing offer from Real Madrid. I’m gonna join their PT team.”

“Oh.”

His stomach dropped once again, thinking that life would lead you two different paths, new future, new plans, and Lewis won’t even be able to make it up to you through time as he was hoping for. Lewis expected that, with you coming back to Mercedes, he would have time to apologize with actions, more than just words.

“They’re my favorite football team, and I’ve always dreamed of getting there,” when you noticed how down he was with the news of your departure, you pressed his hand a bit more, “I told you there are many dreams to achieve.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about it if I hadn’t been so-”

“That’s enough, Lewis, it has nothing to do with you. This is my choice, something that I also dreamed of. It’s not the end of the world. If anything, there are lessons in what we went through.”

He wanted to ask you to stay, to give him and the Mercedes dream one more chance, but he knew it would be selfish of him to ask that. And he wasn’t willing to be selfish with you anymore. He would only have maybe a few more weeks with you, that he intended to nurture a friendship with you.

When your soup arrived, he stayed and watched you eat, and you thanked him profusely as the meds started working and you felt the fever dissipating.

V.

Lewis ended up going back to McLaren to find you all the time. Sometimes he brought a coffee for you, some other times he just wanted to invite you to lunch, or he wanted a protein bar, and after almost two weeks of that, his excuses ran dry and he only said he wanted to check on you. and he had been checking on you for a couple more weeks now.

“So…” Lando muttered with a knowing smirk, “you and Lewis, uh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, as you spotted Lando from behind, analyzing his squats.

“You went from hating him to becoming his friend pretty quickly,” Lando pointed.

“And…?”

“I don’t know but he’s here all the time to see you.”

“Nah, he’s just passing by.”

Lando let go of teasing you and switched topics to talk about something else for the remainder of your session. After you finished and Lando went for the post race debrief, you were getting ready to leave when Lewis found you again.

“What do you want?” You squinted your eyes at him. Lando’s teasing voice still in your head.

“Moody, are we?” Lewis joked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“Lewis.”

“Fine, fine! I’m taking you to dinner later today, ok?”

“Are you asking me out or demanding?” You frowned, pretending to be moody.

“I’m inviting you and implying I’m not taking no for an answer,” He winked.

“Lewis, I don’t think we-”

“Think of it as a farewell, celebratory dinner, yes? You’re leaving so soon to Madrid! Pretty please?” He joined both hands like he was begging.

“Fine. Stop pouting.” You rolled your eyes and he giggled, before leaving.

He texted you two hours later saying he was coming to pick you up. You dressed cozy and comfortable, since it was absolutely not a date. He texted you to let you know he was downstairs when you were finishing with your hair. As soon as you got in the car, you checked Lewis’ outfit.

“Is this ok?” You asked, pointing at yourself.

“It’s perfect.”

Lewis drove for forty minutes to the next town over. In the end, he took you to a cozy restaurant, small, a little cramped but so familial and cozy. You two sat in a corner booth, far from the windows. You went over the menu as Lewis explained that this place’s food tasted homemade and they also had vegan options, so he always went there whenever he was in that part of Italy.

You told Lewis everything about your move, how you had found a great apartment close to work, how you had enrolled in Spanish classes to start a month after your arrival, and everything.

After a hearty meal and chatting a lot, you two decided to go for a walk to eat some ice cream. The air was windy but not very cold, so you just walked side by side a little late at night.

“Are you sure nobody will see us?” You looked around to see if anyone had recognised him or had taken pictures.

“Yes, it’s very discreet in this part of town. Besides, it’s a little late, so not many people are around.”

“This is a very good gelato, Lewis! Thanks for taking me out today.” You muttered as the two of you walked around a big, dark park. You stood under a lamp post, finishing the last of your ice cream.

“How are you feeling about Madrid?” He asked you, looking interested.

“Nervous. Excited. I don’t know.” You whispered, smiling, you held the lamp post and let it take your weight as you flung around, all smiley because of the bit of wine you had at the restaurant, “It’s like a new adventure. You know when you’re about to do something that might be risky but gratifying? You’re scared but you have to-”

As you completed a full 360 around the lamp post, you were met with Lewis walking up to you and kissing you. He pressed his lips to yours, firm but tender, and it took you a while to assimilate what was happening. You held his coat and pushed him away only enough to break the kiss. The lime gelato kiss that had your stomach full of butterflies, and your heart beating almost out of its cage.

“Lewis-” you shook your head, still confused.

“Sorry, I- I just couldn’t pass on the opportunity,” he sighed and his breath fanned your cheek.

“We shouldn’t,”

“Why not?” He raised one hand to cradle your face, his thumb running your cheek.

“Because we started too messy. And- and I’m leaving soon. We don’t need to complicate things.”

You whispered, still not pulling away fully. You wanted it, so bad. But you knew you couldn’t get tangled in a messy situationship right before leaving. He was tempting, but you weren’t willing to risk whatever time was left of your silly little friendship.

So you took a step back. Still, you took his hand in yours, letting his warmth engulf you.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, but you just smiled at him, seeing how he was memorizing your face, and how your eyes were shining bright for him.

“It’s ok. Just, wrong place and wrong time, right?”

He gulped, nodding.

You didn’t kiss again, but Lewis held your hand the whole drive back to Monza.

Understandably, Lewis didn’t come back for your last week at McLaren. Despite being a little hurt about his absence, it didn’t really upset you, deep down you knew that it was better like this. The distance would make the goodbye easier for the man who wormed his way into your life. The whole team at McLaren gave you a farewell cake, which was sweet considering you were just a temporary hire.

You had tears in your eyes saying goodbye to the team and to the formula 1 track.

After that, you went back to London to finish packing, and shipping a few of your furniture and belongings. The dinner with your family and closest friends was filled with tears, and you finally caught up with Angela, explaining everything that had happened.

When the day came, your parents and siblings took you to the airport and you said goodbye with teary eyes and a heavy heart.

You were about to board when a sudden commotion caught your attention, and from between the crowd Lewis Hamilton emerged, running towards you as if he were in a marathon. Confused and shocked, you waited for him to get closer, and as soon as he stopped in front of you, he held your face with both hands and pulled you in a kiss. After two seconds, you returned the kiss, deepening it by opening your lips. He devoured you for a couple more seconds, before pulling away when you were both panting.

“Lewis? What the fuck?”

“This doesn’t have to be a goodbye, right? We can- I don’t know, we can figure it out,” He muttered, face close to you.

“Lewis,” you hesitated, “I’m moving away. We’ll spend most of out time in different time zones-”

“Wouldn’t you like to try? It’s better to try than spend our lives haunted by what ifs” His argument was convincing. And the fact that he was just centimeters from your face, and the fact that you had just kissed and his cologne was divine… Very tempting.

“Lewis, the next time you cause a scene in front of an entire airport, I’m killing you,” you whispered, pecking his lips once more as the crowd dissipated of people boarding the plane.

“I wanted it to be memorable, like a romcom.”

“You’re annoying, that’s what you are. You’re lucky you’re handsome” You rolled your eyes, but Lewis could still see the big smile on your face, eyes glinting.

“Is that a yes to my question?”

“One date, Hamilton. And we’ll see where it will go from that” You smiled, pushing his chest, taking a step back.

“I’m going to Madrid as soon as the triple header is over,” He promised, pulling you close again by the waist.

“You better! I don’t know, maybe I will meet a handsome Spaniard,” You joked, playing hard to get. You closed the distance so you could whisper in his ear, “You better work if you want any prize, pretty boy.”

He gasped at your seductive words, and you pushed him away. He smiled at you. Pulling one of his necklaces, he put it around your neck, a pearl one, very beautiful. The airport called all the passengers for the flight.

“A promise. Yeah?” He said, holding the necklace softly.

“Yeah. See you soon?” You nodded.

“See you soon.”

He watched as you walked away, and before boarding, you turned around and blew him a kiss. He laughed, pretending it hit him right over his heart.

TAG LIST: @mirrorball-6 @chanshintien @icysdiary @nat-lh-44 @aphroditeisamilf @sugardontbesweet @nonsensical-nonsence @slytherheign @luv4kani @18754389 @lorarri @verew @honethatty12 @smartstupyd @moonraysworld @chanelxreid-blog @gemini5991 @comfortzonequeen @blue1amory @soryuwifeyxx @anangelwhodidntfall

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #fic talk #f1 #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #formula one #formula 1

[leighsartworks216]

I Want Nothing More

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Y'all that leg drives me nuts. Got stuck for at least five minutes just watching gifs of it. Here, go just as insane as me

This fic isn't explicit but there is mature content so have fun

Warnings: making out, grinding, swearing, references to voyeurism

Word Count: 682

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Astarion pushes you to lay back in the dirt. Just beneath the surface lay old bones and hungry maggots, and an empty coffin. The thrill of leaving his old self behind, down there, while the new man he became thrived above, free. Free to live unshackled. Free to find peace with himself. Free to love, for once in his gods-forsaken life.

He smiled down at you, a lightness in his chest he hasn't felt in much too long. He crawls over you, eyes never straying from yours. And you so easily accept him, wrapping an arm around him and tangling your fingers in his hair. It's addicting. His eyes fall shut as he finally meets your lips.

It's a kiss unlike any other you've shared before. It was not practiced. It was not hot and heavy. It was soft, almost reverent. He sighed quietly into it, taking his time experiencing you. How you followed the pace he set. How you didn't tug him closer without him leaning in first. You tasted like the best wine humanity could ever - and would ever - create.

He positioned himself fully above you, laying you completely back against the ground. He pressed his knee forward, hooking your leg over his hip. You sighed so sweetly when he did, tugging lightly at his hair as he pressed his pelvis to yours. There were far too many clothes between you, but he was lost in everything else. Sex could wait a moment longer - he just wanted this.

His tongue glided along your lip, asking for more. And you gave it to him in a heartbeat. You always did that; always gave so much of yourself to others, even when you owed them nothing. When he first met you, it was perfect, because it meant manipulating you would be even easier. But then, he worried. He couldn't tell, then, where or when the worry arose - it just did. He'd feared you'd be taken advantage of by every miscreant with a vaguely tragic backstory - ironic, considering his intentions at the time. And now, even after everything, you still gave up your everything. For him.

You slid your hand to his lower back, right near his hip. A quiet sign to show you wanted this for as long as he did. His wordless worship was over. He wanted this. He wanted to at least try, if nothing else. A life anew, where he no longer seduced people to the terrible fate Cazador planned for them. A life anew where Cazador could no longer harm him ever again.

He pressed further into you until you were groaning. Your leg over his wrapped around his hip, and you pressed the heel of your foot against his ass, trying to draw him even closer. He obliged as best he could by arching his body against yours. Chest to chest. Feeling you along his entire body was wonderful in a way he couldn't pin down. He pulled away from your mouth to trail kisses languidly along your jaw, behind your ear, down your neck - anywhere he could reach.

"What if we get caught?" you whisper, but you show no signs of discomfort at the thought. He could feel your heart racing. How scandalous of you.

He chuckled against your skin. "I almost wouldn't mind that," he admitted with a smirk. "Letting them watch as I fuck you on my grave."

A low sound, only audible to his sensitive ears and proximity to your chest, told him just how much you loved the idea as well. Seeing him so happy and excited to be "reborn" turned you on. He deserved this joy.

You tug at his hair again, pulling him away from your neck so you can cup his cheek and look him in the eye. Your pupils are already blown with lust, and he's certain his are, too. "Are you sure you want this?"

He smiles. He leans down to press a soft, chaste kiss to your lips. Your eyes don't leave him as he does, studying him. "My love," he breathes, "I want nothing more."

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #spicy content

[kirishima-eijirock]

@katsuslover asked: Making katsuki jealous by talking w deku or something and he's all sulky and a baby and u show him why he's better

a/n: omg hell yessss I made it a little angsty but I hope he’s not too OOC

You narrow your eyes at the blonde sitting right in front of you. His eyes narrowed and his lips pulled into a deep frown that you’ve never seen before. Clenched fists that are slightly shaking, he glares down at the floor with such an intensity that almost frightens you. Almost.

He’s been that way for the past half an hour, with no warnings at all. It’s weird, how this morning he wasn’t giving two fucks about anyone or anything at all, and now he’s just… furious isn’t even the word to describe it. Neither is rage. This is something else, and you knew it.

“Kats, just spit it out already.”

You’ve been trying to coax an explanation out of him for the past twenty-seven minutes, and yes, you’ve been counting. He’s never hid his anger from you. Or anyone, actually. But definitely not you.

“Kats, I swear to god, if you don’t start saying anything then I’ll go back to my conversation with Midoriya—”

“Get that bastard’s name out of your mouth.”

It was a quick mumble. A short demand. A command, if you will. He’s never said shit about Midoriya with such pure hatred that it did confuse you, and you started to question if you really understood Katsuki in the first place. 

His brow furrowed and his teeth gritted, his glare shifts from the floor to your shoulder, avoiding your direct gaze. He couldn’t bring himself to glare at you, no. The last thing that he wanted to do was to direct his anger at you. You were one of the most precious people in his life, and he wasn’t gonna risk anything, much less even glaring, to fuck it up. But looking down and glaring at the floor looked utterly pathetic, too. So his eyes dart from the wall behind you, to your shoulder and neck, but never your face. You didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t your fault, either.

He knew it’s not your fault, so why did it sting so much to hear you laughing with that bastard? He didn’t get it.

“Never mind. ‘M fine. It’s nothing.”

“Kats, you can’t be mad like that and not explain yourself.”

It’s true. He knew that he owed you an explanation, and a good one. Shame crept up on him as he realised that he snapped at you. That you were on the receiving end of his anger. The promise he made to himself— to never, ever make you upset, or to ever let you feel like the reason that he’s mad— was now broken in his eyes.

“I’m… sorry. For snapping at you. It’s not your fault,” he mumbled under his breath. 

It wasn’t snapping, but he hated the fact that he still could have upset you. 

“Kats, it’s okay. I’m fine, I promise. What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything that’s on your mind, right?”

“No, it’s nothing,” he mumbled, though it’s clear that his snapping only made him more irritated with himself.

“It’s not nothing if you’re…” you trail off, not wanting to point out the current tears in his eyes. 

“Huh? I’m what?” Still oblivious to the tears, he looked around and found nothing.

“Kats, seriously. Tell me, now.”

The firm gaze directed at him from your eyes made him freeze, and the gentle tone in your voice made him hesitate. He was surprised, to say the least, that you were still here, trying to help him while he stood there in front of you like an idiot. If you left now, he wouldn’t have been surprised. In fact, he understood why you would do that, and he couldn’t blame you. This emotional, vulnerable part of him finally showed for the first time in your relationship. 

It surprised you, just a little. You knew he hated showing emotions besides happiness and the occasional happiness, but never tears. He never cried solely in front of you, at least.

He felt weak, so… pathetic. 

And on the other hand, you were there, trying to help him and coax some coherent words out of him, before finally giving up with a sigh

“Kats, if you don’t wanna talk, then we can save that for another time. I won’t push you any further if you’re getting uncomfortable.”

He’s never felt comfort like this. Not warmth, or such gentleness either. It’s so new to him, but in the best ways that he couldn’t describe. 

What was this feeling? His heart was bittersweet now. His loathing towards Midoriya was worsening, but the sweetness in your voice was making it fade away slowly.

“I promise I’m fine,” he rasped out. 

“Okay, Kats. As long as you’re alright,” you murmured, not really pushing him to speak unless he really wanted to.

He took a deep breath, not sure how to address the issue.

“Look, I don’t know what to feel when you’re talking to that damn Deku,” he stated plainly.

“You don’t know what to feel? What are you talking about?”

“I’m not stopping you from having friends, okay? I just don’t like how giggly and shit you were with him,” he huffed.

“Well… why not?”

“It just bugs me, that’s all. Just feel like I should be the reason you’re laughing. Not him.” 

Oh. It finally clicked in your mind. He was jealous. You wanted to point it out, but it could sour his mood further, so you decided against it for the time being.

“Well, if that was the case, you could have just told me. I wouldn’t have a problem with that.”

You were too sweet, too understanding. It was hard for him to believe that he deserved it. That he deserved you. 

“Really?”

“Yes, really, Kats. You don’t need to worry that I’ll be upset, okay?” 

He nodded slowly, still not used to this amount of sincerity and care from someone.

He was never this soft, or vulnerable to anyone. You, however, were an exception. He wasn’t afraid to show it to you, and even though he wasn’t used to it, he sure as hell wasn’t complaining. 

“Thanks…” a soft mumble of thanks left his lips, happy how this confrontation went.

@angelshimaa angst for you :)))

#kiri next and im gonna make two versions of this LMAO #bnha #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou

[prongslvl]

SLEEPYHEAD - marauders trio

PAIRING marauders trio x fem!reader

SUMMARY scenarios of james, remus, and sirius seeing you asleep in interesting places.

a/n: this was such a challenge to write. i did lots of research (fanfic reading lmao) to do the boys' characterization justice. the requester seemed to like sirius so i made his longer and have a bit more plot behind it. happy reading!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

JAMES + COUCH

it was during james' quidditch practice that he realized you were nowhere to be seen. usually he'd see you chatting with the others as you waited for him, but today you weren't.

the gryffindor team got home pretty late after, resulting in little time for the curly-haired boy to look for you. he supposed you were probably loitering around with the new book you bought up your nose, walking around to immerse yourself, as you always explain to him. 

james' planned to clean himself up before looking for you, but as he enters the gryffindor common room, he sees you laying on the couches near the fireplace. he perks up at the sight of his m.i.a girlfriend, happy to see you there. placing the broom stick down and removing his dirtied gloves, james creeped up behind you.

he was faced with your sleeping one, book in hand, while your head uncomfortably rested on the arm rest. he couldn't help but giggle at how cute you are. it wasn't the first time he saw you knocked out cold during your reading sessions, it became a usual scene for james.

with one knee on the ground, he bends his head down to see you up close.

"replaced me with a book once again, haven't you?" he says it lightheartedly, chuckling to himself when you react to his voice by scrunching your nose. 

just like he always does; james grabs the book from your hand and puts it on a table where you can find it again in the morning before he scoops you up. your arms automatically hug the boy's neck, nuzzling your face against his shoulders. 

he practically melts at your action, trying his best not to get weak in the knees as he walks upstairs to his room. as much as he wants you to wake up in your own bed, it wouldn't be the best idea to enter the girl's dormitory at such late hours. he learned his lesson the hard way, with sirius calling him a 'perv' every chance he gets. 

"oh, the things i do for you." he mumbles, caressing your cheeks. he places you on the mattress and watches how you hug the pillows that surround you. 

he sat on the edge of the bed, though he tried his best not to make any noise, your eyes began to slowly open, or at least one of them.

"james? when did you arrive?" he can tell you were fighting a yawn as you talked.

"about ten minutes ago. go back to sleep, love. you still owe me all your attention tomorrow for leaving me alone during practice." he kisses the top of your forehead, making your delirious self giggle. 

you mumbled an "okay" before sleeping once more. james didn't bother showing that night, his sleepiness and overall desire to be next to you came over him.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

REMUS + FLOOR

"do you need leave, moony? i'm sure she's just in the library— y'know, somewhere. we can all just meet at the great hall!" sirius pleads, dragging the hem of remus' sweater. 

"very reassuring, pads. just go with james, we'll meet you there." he flicks the black haired boy's hand away from him before finally waving goodbye. remus could hear sirius' grumble as he walked away. 

ever since he said he'd pick you up between classes, remus hasn't been available to hang out longer with the rest of his friends, resulting in sirius' little tantrums whenever he leaves. he finds it quite overdramatic since the both of you do spend your time with the rest. 

remus arrived at your classroom and waited for you to come out. as he leans on the wall besides the door, he feels a hand tap his shoulders. what he expected to be you was another gryffindor; if he remembered correctly, she was the friend you made during charms.

"can i help you?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. 

"you're here for her, right?" the mention of your name made him curious. "she didn't attend today. i last saw her in the library." remus saw her eyes look around suspiciously, then lean closer to his ears. "specifically the restricted section." 

a light chuckle came from his mouth at the information. he expected no less; you did have a concerning fondness for anything not allowed, perhaps the very reason why you became such a good friend of the marauders and his girlfriend, of course. 

remus thanks the student, bidding her a goodbye before leaving. 

he was able to easily find you asleep on the floor after going through a secret tunnel he and james found about a month ago. there were books surrounding you, remus guessed was an attempt to hide yourself. he recognized the book in your hands; it was the same one he recently finished. 

placing a small piece of parchment paper on the page you were currently on, remus placed the book inside your bag, which was sprawled along with you on the floor. he takes your bag first, swinging it on his shoulder before carrying his sleepy girlfriend. 

"wake up, mon coeur." he whispers in your ear, both for intimacy and for caution in case the librarian sees them. remus sees your eyes slowly open, an enamored smile on his face as you wake up. "as much as i love carrying you around, pads is probably on his last leg looking for us."

"i'm sorry, rem." you yawned, "i wanted to read the book you told me; thought it would be a good conversation starter." you said in a sleepy confession, still half awake, how comfortable you are in his arms. 

he shook his head in slight disbelief, chuckling to himself as he left a peck on your cheeks. "there's always a conversation starter with you. don't worry about finishing it, i'll read it for you later." 

remus still carried you out of the library, but once you were able to stand on your own two feet, remus held your hands as both of you walked down to the great hall.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

SIRIUS + WINDOW

it was a peaceful afternoon with the sun fully out; students were out in the gardens enjoying the rays of sunlight after classes.

at the other side of the garden were the marauders and the rest of the quidditch. a quidditch match was just around the corner, so most members of the team spent their breaks practicing, including sirius and the others accompanying james.

there were times the captain would let the marauders play for fun, just like right now. sirius held a broom stick under him, tossing the quaffle up and down in his hands as his best friend, james, taunted him in the sky. 

"c'mon, pads! you scared?" 

"it takes a lot more than that to make me scared of you, prongs. watch your glasses." sirius said with a smirk, using all his strength to toss the ball at james. the golden snitch was released as soon as the other players went darting for both james and the quaffles, loud chortles erupted in the sky. 

sirius flew towards one of the rings as soon as he was able to catch a quaffle, zooming past the other players trying to snatch the ball. before he could score, his eyes glanced at the window of professor mcgonagall's office, seeing a familiar face. he realized it was you sitting by the glass, distracting him from the game. 

"sirius, watch out!" before he could remove his eyes from you, he was hit with a bludger, making him lose his balance on the broom. 

luckily, james was able to catch him by the collar, inches away from the ground. 

"where's your head at, pads!? you stood there like a statue." remus, who only watched from a distance, ran towards the long haired boy. sirius jumps to the ground on his two feet, his hands held by remus. 

"i didn't mean to!" he defended himself, his eyes set on the professor's tower. "i just got— a little distracted or something; it doesn't matter!" remus followed his friend's gaze in curiosity. despite the distance, he could tell sirius was staring at the person behind a window. 

"don't tell me..." the mention of your name made the black haired boy's head turn toward remus, who had a smirk on his face. 

"absolutely not. yes, i did see her, but i wouldn't let myself be hit because of her." his voice wanes, and his mind immediately corrects him. yes, he'll definitely let himself get beat up just for you, and there's no denying that. sirius sighs, walking towards the hogwarts' building.

he hears james calling for him. "i'll be back! just gotta check on something." he informed his friend before dashing inside. 

the halls were busy with students, either leaving or entering their class. some of them greeted sirius, giving them a small smile, but he was too focused on making his way to the professor's office. he didn't know why he was in such in a rush to see you. he couldn't even think of an excuse to give once he arrived. 

lately, you've been busy with studying for owls, as everyone was too, so you were no where to be found when sirius looked for you. he knew you'd be in the library, but he was too much of a coward to approach in such a crowded place where everyone would see how awkward he'd be conversing with you. 

lily, the double agent, as james likes to call her, is friends with you and the marauders. she'll sometimes talk about you when sirius not-so-subtly changes the topic to you, which opens the topic of your whereabouts. 

"she's usually at the library, our dorm, and..." professor mcgonagall's office was a few stairs away by now, given how fast-paced the boy was walking. 

as soon as he reaches the doors, the said teacher opens the door with several papers in hands. 

"mr. black, what can i help you with?" professor mcgonagall's eyed sirius, who immediately knew he was just out in the sun with how disheveled he looked. 

"i was looking for a friend of mine. lily told me she'd be here." 

he said her name and house, making mcgonagall look back, revealing to sirius that his friend was indeed inside the office. you sat with your back facing towards the door, a book laying on your lap, while your head leaned on the glass. 

"she fell asleep. do wake her up; i promised to, but i have a meeting to attend." sirius nods with a smile, "no funny business, mr. black." mcgonagall points her wand at the boy. 

he smirks, "yes, professor mcgonagall." amused at her words. she couldn't blame her. really, it was a perfect chance to set up a prank— having the office of a teacher to themselves was any troublemaker's wet dream. but he brushed the thought aside, eyes fixated on you as he entered the room. 

sirius carefully walks towards you, not wanting to startle you with his presence. once he got a bit closer, with your face visible to him, he confirmed that you were really asleep. you looked so peaceful that it made him feel guilty for waking you up. 

he can't say you and him were close friends— actually, not even friends. you mostly talked to him during classes when you needed help or he needed help but didn't want to ask for it. he adores how kind you are and how naturally charming and funny you are, just by your witty response to his teasing. 

"i can't believe i'm seated next to a little nerd." he'd say, with you responding back almost immediately, "thanks to that nerd, you actually aced a pop quiz." as if it were the most natural thing to you. sirius also admires your passion for studying; he thinks it's probably his and his friend's nonexistent studying habits. the only thing sirius doesn't like about you is how carelessly you take care of your body. 

he'd be worried sick the whole day when lily would mention you didn't eat or sleep because of homework and tests. you were partially the reason why he trashed one of your professor's class notes, using a spell to translate it into a language he didn't understand, making the test everyone dreaded delayed for a week. 

remus says he finally developed a crush, the type where he didn't only like you because he felt like it was a challenge. james says he's severely whipped for you and how he'd kiss the ground you walk on. not including james' overexaggeration, he didn't deny any of their words. 

sirius was concerningly and overwhelmingly enamored by you, it makes him question if this was even natural. 

he recognized the potion book you were studying. he had the same copy in his little library inside the dorms. he reaches for the book from your lap, holding it. despite sirius' gut telling him not to wake you up so you'd have more sleep, professor mcgonagall would have his head if he didn't. 

"hey, love." the nickname rolled off his tongue like nothing. you hummed at the sound of his voice.

he gently taps your cheeks, making you stir in your half-asleep state before fully opening your eyes. the sight of him surprised you, "black? what are you doing here?" 

he chuckles at your hoarse voice. "long story short, the professor wanted me to wake you up before your next class starts." the mention of class somehow woke you up, your hands searching for the hard object you left on your lap. sirius notices and shows you the book in his hands. 

"you're studying for potions? didn't we just have a text last week?" he asked, giving you back your possession. 

"no, that was two weeks ago. we have a test later—" you stop yourself from speaking, looking at the long haired boy with furrowed eyebrows, and say, "don't tell me you didn't study?" 

this caught sirius off guard, laughing awkwardly at himself and shaking his head. "it seems i'm a bit fucked here, darling. i didn't study an inch." he was too busy recalling the test from two weeks ago to notice the blush on your face at the nickname. 

you went down the window ledge, hugging the book to your chest. "then let's hope professor slughorn will let you sit next to me."

"are you saying you'll let me cheat off of you?" sirius sneakily wraps his arms around your shoulders as he asks. you coughed into your hand before responding, stuttering with your words. "ye-yes. i mean, you did help me with that project in d.a.d.a so it's the least i can do for you." 

he walks out of the office with you in his arms, sirius hoped you weren't too close to hear how hard his chest was beating at the contact. "i don't know... that project was almost half our grades in d.a.d.a." he looks in your direction with a smirk on his face. you were too quick to catch what he was trying to say. 

"what do you want, sirius black?" you asked in faux annoyance, making the boy laugh. 

it was an opportunity for him and he doesn't have any plans to let this go. "go with me to hogsmeade, heard they recently opened a coffee house inspired by the muggle world." his words made you stop. 

your silence alarmed him, "well— only if you want to! it's not like i'm—" 

"i'll go." you finally answered, your voice meak. this took sirius by surprise: "i've been craving to drink something else other than butterbear anyway." 

sirius grinned, holding you even closer to him. "let's drink to our hearts content, shall we?" you nodded with a smile, looking up at him.

"hey, hey, leave some room for merlin in there!" james shouts from across the hallway, making remus and peter beside him cackle.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

#remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #marauders fanfiction #james potter imagine #marauders imagine #marauders #sirius x reader #siriusposting #sirius black #sirius black imagine #remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #sirius and james #ben barnes #aaron taylor johnson #andrew garfield

[tarjapearce]

El Charro Negro

Charro Negro AU! Miguel x Reader

Requested Here by @arrozleche ♥️✨

Inspired in this artwork by Kattromz

WARNINGS: angst at the beginning, bit of light horror, a bit of fluff, spanish dialogue and serenades, Mexican urban legend, a bit of possessiveness If you squint. Hope I got it right :')

Summary: Don't make deals with the devil, people.

The song Miguel sings to reader ⬇️⬇️

May the day he was born forever cursed. May the day his parents decided to have him, cursed. May the humble and tattered home he lived in, damned.

Oh how he longed to have what other men had. A good hat, food on his table every day, not having to worry if he'd sleep with an empty stomach, a more comfortable bed and not the paltry and smelly rags he had for a bed; the good and clean clothes instead of his patched up pants and holed shirts. His parents loved him dearly. But it wasn't enough, even if they worked as hard as he was, it wasn't enough.

It was never enough for him.

He wanted more. He wanted to be admired instead of shunned and treated like an outcast for not having enough.

"Ya verán..." (They'll see.)

He'd prove all those that mocked him for being less, that he would be better. Better than all of them. When his Patrón would pay him what he is owed, he'd buy decent clothing. He'd have his Charro suit his heart yearned so much, and just then, he would laugh in the faces of those that wronged him.

But, Oh the misfortune his name carried since birth, followed him like a lost, mangy puppy, looking for solace in his tragedy. His parents died within a mine. buried and forgotten. El patrón didn't even bother himself into try and getting them and some other workers out.

Unbeknown to his parents, they had been digging their grave long ago.

He had to steal a bottle from the foreman's reserve so he could at least have the respect to knock his senses with good alcohol. Mezcal was his favorite. No money, no parents, poor and sick of everything was his current mood. A perpetual will of someone bigger than him, that had cursed him to live on scraps all his life.

"¡¿Feliz?! ¡¿Qué quieres de mí?!" (Happy?! What do you want from me?!)

He hiccuped as he entered his empty and  tattered home, blaspheming at heavens as he cut a bit of his palm and attempted to draw a circle with it.

"¡Lo he dado todo y nunca fue suficiente!" (Gave it all and still it wasn't enough.)

He weeped and growled. The mezcal numbing his senses slowly. Sluggish footsteps finally tripped over a termite chewed chair, and he hissed at the stung from the cut in his hand.

"Daría cualquier cosa..." (I'd give anything)

His eyes felt heavy, the tip of his fingertips tingled with spreading numbness. A chill ran down his spine while his face pressed against the dusty floor. It vibrated. He groaned and took another swig from the bottle.

Black mist crept around him, the temperature suddenly feeling cold. He shuddered and scrunched his nose at the simmering fear that was below the surface.

"¿Lo que sea?" (Anything?)

A gravel like, yet sultry voice echoed from the darkest part of the room. His breath hitched as his vision blurred for a second to then focus on the bright, fiery red eyes that stared at him with keen interest.

His voice made all the mezcal to evaporate from his body. Wide, fearful eyes stared at the entity.

"Lo que sea." (Anything)

Miguel breathed with a nod. The being smirked, revealing a pair of sharp canines adorning his perfect and malicious smirk.

"¿Te apetece un trato?" (Fancy a deal?)

-------

The women made lines just to get a glimpse of him, Clad in a perfectly tailored suit just for him with the finest fabrics available. Tall, broad and muscular body not many had the luck of tasting, a horse that seemed brought from foreign lands due it's sheer size and color. Jet black with beady amber eyes. Wide brim hat, with a lace bow hugging his neck.

Even though many knew him, his money was the talk of town. Where would he get larges amount of money to invite everyone in the cantina a round of shots? his suits? his horse? his properties? The women?.

"Les dije que sería mejor que todos ustedes." (Told you I'd be better than you lot.)

He mumbled as he threw a woman over his shoulder with a smirk, she squealed in excitement as he took a long swig of his bottle. He'd throw the most outrageous parties in his estate almost every week.

The fiery eyes just watched him from afar, his smirk widening.

-------

Despite having more than fifty people before him, and women throwing themselves at him, his heart had said enough. Enough of the madness, enough of the parties, enough of fake loves that only seeked him for pleasure or money. Enough. He had enough.

He threw everyone out of a rage fit. He was sick of them. Even thought their faces were familiar, he knew shit about them all. He wanted, needed, to be alone.

"¿Ya te has cansado de esta vida, Miguel?" (Have you grown tired of this life?)

Miguel stumbled on the floor as panic rose within his heart.

"Y yo que creía que te estabas divirtiendo" (And me here thinking you were having fun.)

"¿Q-Qué estás haciendo aquí?" (What are you doing here?)

"He venido por lo que me corresponde por derecho, Miguel." (I've came for what's rightfully mine.)

"Tu alma" (Your soul)

-------------

Even though his attempts in running away from the devil worked for him for a bit, in the end, he was found and not only that, but cursed to be the devil's personal debt collector. He and his horse.

He was everywhere, yet nowhere. He'd travel in a cloud of black mist that moved with him, almost like the darkness itself had life of its own. Red and glowing eyes adorning his Adonis-like features. He was tall, broad, clad in black and dangerous.

He'd travel with his faithful horse, a jet black stallion that only responded to him. As far as the legend went, he'd go town to town searching for the debtors, to claim their souls by luring them with money and other riches.

His eyes settled for a hidden little town, a few souls would fulfill his hunger, but he had to be careful. He could see some of the stony white houses donned with a cross on their front doors. He sneered at them, his horse gave a disapproving neigh.

"And they're the ones who sin the most" He mumbled under his breath and scanned the zone, It was 3 am, none was on sight. The soft noise of his saddle and his horse's steps echoed through the houses. Some dogs barked, howled even, other just growled at him and his in fear.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw you, clad with a black shawl, tears in your eyes as you left the town's cemetery. He chuckled at your stupid yet brave action. None would venture alone at that time, in such a sacred place, unless you worked with magic.

His mind was settled. He'd stay here. But first, he'd have to earn the trust of those whose souls would be claimed later.

He vanished into thin air.

------------

Your day always started at 4 am, sometimes even earlier than that, you had gone and clean your parents tomb in the cemetery, always giving them fresh flowers. They had died of sickness, little could be done to save them. Their hearts just gave up.

Then, you would go to the town's cantina and help prepare for the day, washing glasses, making sure the mezcal  was ready to be served, cleaning up in general and of course, having to withstand the leering glances from the men around as you brought their drinks and food.

Town was 'everyone knows everyone here' type of little. It had a few stores of antique things, a hospital, a bar, some boutiques, a school among other basic needs stuff. It was small, but pretty. Colonial-style and traditional sort of pretty.

It wasn't around midday that he showed up. A man so tall you had to look up to meet his amber colored eyes, sharp and handsome features, shoulders so broad you were sure it would take a toll on your back to hug him, A small waist adorned by a strange belt buckle, if you looked closer it was a small skull like spider, surrounded by a subtle pentagram.

His heavy steps made the place to go silent for a moment as everyone stared at the new face. He was wearing a pale blue Charro outfit, he removed his hat, revealing silky and shiny ravenous locks. He smiled gently and took a seat in one of the lone seats over the bar.

"Buenos días, señorita. By any chance do you a place where I could stay?"

Your coworker flushed by the mere tone of his voice, you rolled your eyes at the display. She'd do that with every handsome man that would come closer. Visitors weren't as regular as people would think, even though the town had it's charm, it was away from other main cities. The perfect target for Miguel.

"¿Señorita?" It was enough, you called her and his eyes snapped your way. He blinked at recognizing you from before.

"Go tell Rodrigo we need to refill one barrel of mezcal." She obeyed while stealing a glance in Miguel's direction before disappearing.

"Sorry for that. There is a hotel at the end of this street. Se llama Posada Buenaventura" (It's name is Buenaventura Hostal)

He bowed his head, grateful. Soon he stood and left.

--------

You had noticed the Charro that had appeared our of nowhere being a social yet secretive man. He'd laugh with the elders, he'd listen to his stories that many ignored, would help people around by making small favors. And the women adored him, he'd of course entertain them by smiling or singing a bit for them. He was nice. But too perfect. Your eyes squinted at him.

"Don't look at him like that, he's really good. Man, I'd sell my soul to have a man like him." Your coworker spoke in between dreamy sighs. It had been only a couple of days since he came and everyone seemed to love him.

Suspicious.

Even more when he showed up in such fancy quality suits many would only long for. You had learned that his name was Miguel. It suited him, but still, something was wrong. Something in your mind told you to run away whenever he was around and his stare lingered a bit too long on you.

"Stop being a hornball and go tend the clients. It's a busy day today." You waved her off as you began cleaning the bar. He sat before you and regarded you with an intense gaze, hinting the challenge you stared back at him, arching your brow, unamused.

"Will you order something or you'll keep the staring contest?"

He smirked, and held his hands in defense.

"A breakfast shall do fine." you sighed

"Coffee?"

"Si. No sugar, please." You nodded and disappeared behind the doors, a man, his prey, approached him with a sympathetic look.

"Every man in town knows that trying to get (Name)'s attention is pointless. Mostly of us have given up on her. She's hard to get at."

"Is that so?"

"If you're wise, you'll rather to spend the time with Emelina. She's a sweetheart."

Miguel just nodded and looked at your form approaching with his food and steaming coffee. Your beauty was sure a sight, but your temper was something he couldn't help but feel intrigued for, specially when you were throwing a guy out of the cantina that got too hammered a bit too soon.

You wouldn't fall that easily, and he loved challenges.

He winked at you and you just rolled your eyes.

You'd totally be worth it.

------

Emelina hopped into his horse, the lucky girl, and snugged him from behind. They'd gallop through the town together, parading and showing his horse taming skills. Girls around would watch with envy, as you glanced at them briefly with a smirk, tumbling some clothes to dry under the sun.

Not that you were hard to get. You simply feared of being fooled again, everyone in town had known that your fiancé had left a day before your wedding to never show up again. He had ran away from town and from you.

Miguel and Emelina galloped away from town, her excited shrieks could be heard as they headed out of town.

But after a while, the landscapes seemed neverending, repetitive and boring.

"We have to go back. Around five I must feed my chickens." Emelina's voice announced behind him. But Miguel didn't stop. The horse just galloped faster, she held tightly onto him, a small wave of fear washing over her.

"I-I wanna go back, Miguel." Her voice meek, her breath hitching in her throat upon realizing what was going on.

"Let me go!" She cried but he only smirked, black mist surrounded them both as darkness engulfed Emelina . the last thing she could see was Miguel. No. El Charro Negro, a demon, looking at her. Her screams vanished into nothingness.

-----

After closing the cantina, you headed home, and saw Emelina giving a small court to Miguel, to then disappear into her home. An illusion really, but who could tell? His eyes wandered over your form.

"Need help?"

"No."

Even though you actually did struggle with the wooden box full of spices.

He gently pried the box from your small form. You sighed and rolled your eyes with a tiny smirk.

"Te gusta molestarme." (You like annoying me."

"Kinda. If that's what it takes to see that little scrunch in your nose when you get angry, then yes. I do."

You didn't want to admit that he had his charm, but the thought was quickly batted away when he spoke again.

"Fear."

"Hm?"

"You are scared." He mumbled as he walked next to you.

"I'm not-"

"You hide your pain behind a brave mask. What happened?"

You frowned at his words. He pried too soon into your healing wounds.

"Not your business, certainly." you stopped at your home, and took the box from his hands. Pain bloomed into your chest and he knitted his eyebrows together, sensing your discomfit.

"I'm sorry" He'd mumble as you looked away.

"Entiendo ese sentimiento de no ser lo suficiente para alguien muy bien, hermosa." (I know the feeling of not being good enough for someone, beautiful)

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you pushed them aside, and sighed

"His loss, really."

"Buena noche." (Goodnight), he mumbled and watched you go. It came to his attention that you lived on your own.

As much as he was the devil's personal collector, his past was always haunting him, reminding him of his mistakes. He couldn't help but find a bit of solace in the fact that there was someone that could relate to his pain. And for what he could gather through the towners, he  knew about your wedding fiasco.

The initial challenge to have your soul slowly changed into something more meaningful, a bit selfish if he came to think about it. He'd conquer you, even if it meant to harvest the life of every person in town.

---------

People talked about the sudden leaving of Emelina, and his prey, Rodrigo. Apparently they both had ran together, and started a new life elsewhere. His task in town was almost done. He just needed two more souls to leave.

But every time you'd serve him his usual breakfast with the bitter coffee, the demon inside him subsided. He had tried everything, leaving roses in your door, only to find them stored in jars later, He'd send letters that you would only read with a wistful and pained expression, he'd gift you with jewels, but you never wore them.

You were hard to get. But it was thrilling for him. To do such thing after spending years traveling, collecting and vanishing from town to town. You had made his dead heart to beat again, but yours ached for someone that had been long gone. He'd never forgive him. He collected his soul.

-----

Every gift your not so subtle fan gave you, had warned your heart a little bit more. You knew it was Miguel. The outrageous gifts screamed his name all over the place. He'd send you roses, which you stored in a glass container to make things out of them, his letters full of poems about you; made the ice on your heart to melt, bit by bit.

And the jewelry, the most intricate and beautiful thing you could lay your hands on. Gold looked good on you. It was like he knew your heart desires by heart despite you shooing him away in hopes he'd gave up before it ended up in another heartbreak for you.

But he was determined to make you his. You noted much. You had to give props to the man that against all odds, was getting a spot in your heart. But for now, you needed sleep.

The sultry and baritone voice sang through your window.

No hace falta que salga la luna

Pa' venirte a cantar mi canción

Ni hace falta que el cielo esté lindo

Pa' venirte a entregarte mi amor

You opened the window and your eyes turned bashful as his voice kept echoing, a few more men behind him, playing instruments. His voice serenading you.

Solo Dios, que me vio en mi amargura

Supo darme consuelo en tu amor

Y mando para mí, tú ternura

Y así con tus besos borro mi dolor.

Your heart couldn't help but flutter. You had tamed a demon.

He was about to sing another verse when your neighbor's angry voice chided in, disrupting the moment.

"It's bed time! Sing to her in the morning!" His words only made him want to vanish and give him a lesson, but your giggles only made him sigh.

"Buena noche, chula."

"Goodnight, Miguel." you kissed his cheek. A chill ran down your spine. He was cold, but your heart was sure warm.

He totally gave the man a good scare in his dreams.

---------

"It's concerning that people have been leaving town lately without much explanation." You heard one of the elders speak, and sure enough, the town looked emptier than usual.

"Don't you think it's weird? Ever since... that guy, ese Charro, came here, weird things have been happening." Your ears perked up at the information. Of course you had been too enraptured in your blooming feelings for Miguel to actually pay attention to what was happening around you.

Your workplace was less and less crowded, Emelina and Ricardo ran away together. Then, another man you barely spoke to was next, and then another woman also left. Four people in total. And given how small the town was, the number was alarming.

Dread settled on you once more. You didn't know what Miguel did during the day, but he always seemed to have enough money to buy everyone's house twice. He was always impeccable, well dressed and his charisma had earned the trust of the people. You felt dumb.

You had lowered your guard down enough to let another man in.

What was his game? You certainly refused to be his plaything.

-----

Your sudden change of attitude concerned him, of course, people would talk, and they were growing suspicious. He had his fill of souls, but his dead heart ached for you. You'd refuse to look at him in the eye, your voice so distant and cold. You had also grown suspicious of him. He knew he had to leave.

But he didn't, as a new pact was signed within town. His duty called.

-------

Just as darkness followed him, it had engulfed the man and vanished him into nothingness. He smirked, satisfied.

"It's... you..." You voice snapped his glowy red eyes at you. Your skin crawled as the hairs on your back stood in alarm. Your mind told you to run away. You approached instead, clarity coming to your mind like a cold bucket of water.

The glow of his eyes vanished, a solemn look on his face.

"It all makes sense now" You mumbled. You weren't scared, your hands cupped his cheek. he was no longer cold.

"I need to go."

You shook your head.

"Everything you did, for me, was true?"

"All of it." His large hand caressed yours while his eyes regarded you wistfully.

"Then, take me with you." You'd mumble and his eyes widened.

The sounds of many other horses along some people, angry and demanding for Miguel, approached.

"I couldn't... No."

"Then, I'll make a pact with the devil if that means for you to come for me and see you again."

His heart leaped in his chest. You wanted him as he was.The mob approached.

"I'm yours" You kissed his hand and you were swooped off your feet, his lips pressed into yours and with a whip on his horse, you two ran away, never to be seen again.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #astv fanfic #spiderman 2099 x reader #el charro negro #t writes✨ #Mexican urban legend #Spotify

[rosepascal]

someday || Joel Miller x Reader

summary: You're sick and tired of being strong in this world.

warnings: angst/fluff, hurt comfort, tlou stuff so blood, killing, etc. The reader has some self deprecating thoughts.

a/n: I am once again using Joel as therapy. I could not survive the tlou world. As much as i would want to be a badass I would probably just cry a lot aksdfjl.

“Hurry up!” Joel snapped as you took cover among the bushes.

You wince as your knees scrape against the ground, blood trickling down your leg. Joel harshly grabs your arm as you hear loud footsteps approaching you.

“Where the fuck did they go!” You hear a man say.

His heavy boots snapping twigs as he walks. Joel would say he’s an idiot. One of the typical egotistical raiders who think their brute strength could solve anything. Joel’s grip gets harsher as they get closer. His other hand fiddles with his gun.

A heavy pit forms in your stomach. That same sickly horrible feeling that you always get when your life is in danger. Which happens often in this world.

You hate it. Hate what the world has become. Hate what you’ve become to survive. Shutting off all emotions so you can live. Killing people who are just trying to survive, just like you.

Joel springs into action, pulling out his rifle and shooting one of your attackers square in the face. Too wrapped up in your own head you don’t notice one of them fire at you.

“Shit!” You hiss as Joel tackles you to the ground.

The bullet whizzing past you. You start to apologize but Joel doesn’t care. He gets up and fires a few shots, letting you scramble to your feet and pull out your gun.

These guys are easy to take care of. They don’t bother trying to hide which makes them easy targets. Your brain shuts off as you put yet another bullet into someone, taking their life. Leaving them dead on the forest floor.

Once they’re all dead you just stand there. Reciting the same bullshit you tell yourself. You had to do this. It’s you or them. This is how things are now.

“Let’s go.” Joel says gruffly.

Not even bother to check on you before walking back towards Jackson. It makes your blood boil. Anger bubbling out of you with every step. You’re sick of it. Sick of living in this world. Sick of being strong and brave. Ellie calls you a badass but fuck what you wouldn’t give to go back to your life before the outbreak.

You’ve never said a word to Joel or Ellie about it. Joel, well he’s Joel. He’s the brooding tough guy. The provider. The keeps to himself kind of guy. As stereotypical as it sounds, he’s kept you alive so you owe him. He taught you how to shoot after finding you all on your own. Trying to make it to the QZ.

You know he’s lost a lot too. Everyone has, so what makes you so special? Why should you get to feel the way you do when it’s not nearly as bad as what some people have been through? The walk is silent as you approach the gates of the town. At least you have a bed now, a house with running water and food.

“Want to tell me what happened out there?” Joel asks as you get closer to the town. You clench your jaw and stay quiet. He’s not happy, he’s pissed. You fucked up. You don’t need him to tell you that.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” He puts a hand on your shoulder and you rip it off you.

“I fucked up alright? I’m sorry.” You stomp ahead of him, not wanting a fucking Joel lecture right now.

“You’re sorry? You could have gotten killed.” Joel won’t let it go, he never lets it go.

“Just fuck off! Okay I get it. I don’t need you to tell me that. Sorry we can’t all be like you.” You storm through the gates, ignoring the looks from the townspeople.

“The hell does that mean?” He grabs your shoulders and forces you to face him. His face turned into a scowl, like he’s trying to puff himself up to make him bigger, scarier. Well fuck him.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t fucking live like this. Killing people without even blinking, pretending it doesn’t get to me. I’m…I’m over it.” You shove his hands off you and storm into town.

“Hey!” Joel tries to come after you but you weave your way through the crowd of people.

Until his voice is drowned out and he can’t see you anymore. You don’t know how long you’ve been away. You just kept walking and walking until you found a seemingly abandoned house. You climb onto the roof and just, sit. Feelings of shame come over you as you think back to your argument.

On one hand it’s embarrassing to admit that you aren’t cut out for this world, maybe Joel agrees. Maybe he thinks he should have left you for dead. You promised him you’d be strong. That you could handle this. You were wrong.

But, a part of you is proud. Proud that you’ve finally gotten it off your chest. Keeping it buried for so long only made it worse.

“Hey.” You hand grabs your knife as you spin around and hold it up.

“Dammit Joel,” You mutter as you lower your hand. He comes and sits next to you. Grunting as he tries to get comfortable. He doesn’t talk. He tries, but he doesn’t know how to.

“I uh, I talked to Maria. Said she could take you off patrol for as long as you need.” You sigh and lean against the house.

“It’s not about patrol Joel. It’s…” You look down at your hands, playing with the knife as you gather your thoughts.

“I’m tired.”

“Well I’m sure its alright if you sleep in tomorrow.”

“No Joel, I mean I’m tired of everything. I’m sick of being strong. I’m not a strong person. I tried for so long, but I just want to be happy again.” Tears silently stream down your cheeks as you reveal your deepest kept secret to Joel.

"Do you ever think about what life would be like if this never happened? I think about it a lot." You admit.

“I know I promised you I’d be strong but…I can’t do it anymore. I know it’s selfish but..” You missed the world before all of this.

You don’t want to fight for every meal or kill people anymore. You want to wake up in a warm bed and have breakfast with your family. You wish your biggest problem was how boring your job was.

“It’s not selfish.” Joel says.

“I think about that too. I miss life before this. I miss a lot about it.” You lean against this shoulder. The two of you thinking of life before this, what life would have been if this never happened.

“You said you weren’t strong, but I disagree.” You look at Joel, waiting for him to continue.

“I think you’re plenty strong. It’s not weak to want your old life back. It’s not weak to feel the way you do about everything. Everyday you prove how strong you are just by being here.” Joel doesn’t sugarcoat anything. He doesn’t believe in sparing feelings so you know that he’s not lying. Maybe he’s not just talking to you either.

“Thank you Joel.” He wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

His lips gently press against your forehead. Maybe someday you’ll go back to the life you remember. It won’t be the same and that’s okay.

As long as you keep going, one day at a time. 

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction