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zhongrin · 1 year

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to be yours

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, childe, ayato, thoma, kaeya, wanderer, diluc

◇ tags ◇ minors dni, fluff, collar, nothing explicit is happening but it's very suggestive, diluc is so soggy in this but i’m not sorry

◇ a/n ◇ "but rin didn't you already write something similar to this with zhongli?" sHUT UP. SHUSH. SILENCE. /j

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

when you called his name so excitedly and said that you had something to show him, he didn’t think he would see you with a collar…. and is that his initials?

… oh.

oh.

zhongli tries so very hard to be a gentleman, but you can feel the urgency, the impatience in the slight bite of his fingers against your skin as he pulls you into a searing kiss. the loud purrs rumbling from his throat a telltale sign that your majestic dragon is exceedingly happy at your little present… maybe a little too happy, judging from the hardness pressing against your thigh...

hmm.

yes, the cor lapis gem on it is a nice touch, indeed.

“ah- apologies, my dear. how ungentlemanly of me… but i simply must express how much adoration i have for you at this present time.”

childe has a silly grin on his lips as he admires the accessory with his fingers. his blue eyes are hooded when he finally meets your gaze and his chapped lips persistently attack yours, an invitation to a heated battle of dominance; one you wouldn’t certainly mind losing, but you know the way you fight against him will turn him on even more.

you suppose you can indulge him... for now.

let’s see how he fares when you bring out his collar with your initials.

“y-you-for me? fuck… o-of course i’ll put it on, baby…. but won’t you help me wear it? please?”

al haitham snorts and folds his arms in front of his delicious treat of a chest, one of his eyebrows cocking up in mock arrogance, a contrast to your sweet demeanor.

he wants you to explain your choice of accessory, he says - nay, demands. and yet not even a minute into your horribly awkward speech, it’s his fingers that hook onto the leather to drag you onto his lap, right on the edge of your shared bed. there’s a certain glint in his eyes, and only then it clicks to you. he’s in that kind of mood today, it seems.

oh dear. you might want to prepare yourself to call in sick tomorrow…

“oh no, continue with your explanation, don’t mind me. i am capable enough to multitask between listening to you and leaving more… direct and indisputable versions of my marks on you.”

ayato has to blink a few times to make sure it wasn’t his sleep-deprived brain causing hallucinations after working for nearly thirty-two hours straight.

but when it sinks on him that you’re actually wearing a collar, with the kamisato clan’s sigil and his initials embellished proudly on the high-quality material - just like a loyal puppy waiting for praise from their owner - it’s like he just woke up from the most satisfying power nap he’s ever had his whole life. you find yourself pinned onto his desk seconds later, your master cooing over how adorable you look in your new outfit and how you’ll look even more the part with all your clothes off and stuffed full of his cock.

“what a good pet. my good little pet…”

thoma erupts into a thomato billion shades of reds that complement his outfit.

his brain is short-circuiting. his tongue fumbles like a three years old trying to speak words. his hands are awkwardly hovering in the air as he tries to make sense of everything.

when he finally gets his wits back, he launches into his mother-hen mode. not exactly the result you wanted, but you can work with it. you have your precious boyfriend wrapped around your fingers after all.

“d-does it not hurt? it’s not too tight, right? if it’s hard for you to adjust the length, i can help you to- what?! no, no, you misunderstand- wait, no! i don’t mean that i didn’t want to put it on you, i just- arghh, s-stop teasing me!”

kaeya blinks once, twice, and the third time is accompanied by a sultry smirk spreading over his kissable lips. he chuckles, a deep vibration that sends shivers down your spine as he eyes you like a hungry panther scouting a potential feast.

before you know it he’s had you pinned against the wall of his office, and his fingers are teasingly rubbing your jaw and under your ear, his hot breath mingling with yours as his cologne overwhelmed your senses. a knee slides between your legs and rubs against your clothed crotch, and your lover eagerly swallows your yelp with a deep kiss that speaks volumes about what he plans to do with you.

“ah, perfect. a distraction from work. lord barbatos must have seen me toil over these boring paperwork and took pity on me by giving me such a nice present. all wrapped up so nicely with a name tag to match, too…”

wanderer stares at the initials in disbelief for a full ten seconds before glaring at you. scathing words leave his lips like a fully loaded revolver, but you’re made of the thickest steel and you’re more perceptive than most - well, at least when it comes to your beloved puppet lover - so you can see the indicative ways of his joy: the slight nervous shifts of his legs, the way he’s scratching his arm for grounding himself, and most of all, the way his eyes looked at anything but the said ‘vile object’…

he’s so silly, you think fondly.

guess it’s time to play the ‘which buttons to push to break his act’ game yet again.

“you’re so embarrassing. a fucking collar, really? what are you, some kind of a mutt? and with the initials of that stupid name you gave me? what, you wanna tell the world that you’re my pet or something? hah! why don’t you bark for me then? …. w-wha- s-stop barking, idiot! what is wrong with you?!”

diluc takes a full minute to fully understand. his brain is failing to connect the dots even though he’s literally staring at the accessory.

it’s only when you point out and explain it all to him that his breath hitches. redness as bright as his hair creeps onto his cheeks, and he has to cover the lower half of his face-

wait-

are those tears in his eyes?!

“it’s… nice? i suppose. i know you will look nice in whatever you wear, beloved. your sense of fashion is impeccable in my eyes, and i- hmm? ….. oh…….. OH. i-ahem-i see. i-ah-no! no, these aren’t- they’re just…. i’m sorry, dear- i just.... feel so…. so…. loved…”

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beenbaanbuun · 22 days

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proposal w/ jongho

there’s just something about you tonight that has jongho unable to take his eyes off of you yet he can’t seem to place his finger on what

you’re dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers

it’s not that you don’t have your own clothes to change into, you just claim his are comfier and who is he to stop you when you look so cute

you look like you’re his

the possessive part of his brain that just wants to squirrel you away somewhere where it’s just the two of you forever really likes that fact

he leans forward to take the bowl from your lap, instead placing it on the coffee table so there was no risk of it toppling to the floor

then he grabs onto you, pulling at your body until you’re tucked nicely under his arm

you bring your feet onto the sofa, curling into a compact little ball as you snuggle up tightly into his side

if the world ended right this second, jongho really doesn’t think he’d mind; he’s not sure anything would ever be better than this moment in time

after all, he already has all he ever wants tucked neatly into his arms

“do you want to marry me?” the words slip from his mouth before he can stop them, “i mean not now but— wait, that sounds like i don’t want to…”

he’s silenced by your pretty giggles, twinkling like a wind chime during a storm

it shuts his thoughts up, leaving with only the sound of you trying to stifle your laughter with the back of your hand

it’s beautiful, and all he wants is for the rest of his time on earth to be filled with that

with you

he sighs, relaxing a little before he squeezes you gently with his arms

“you know what, i’m just going to roll with it,” he says, “i was waiting for something more romantic, but this works too.”

you twist your head until you’re facing him, wide eyes staring up into his own

he catches your lips in a kiss, trying his hardest not to smile against them

but how can he not when he’s so happy; he has you in his arms looking all soft and snuggly in his clothes

you’re his, and it just solidifies his thoughts even more; he wants to see you in a wedding dress so incredibly bad that it hurts his chest

he pulls away and looks you deep in your eyes

“well?” his heart stutters just like it always does when he looks at you, “do you want to?”

you shrug, a coy smirk coming to your face

“i don’t know,” you can’t help but smile when you see him give you that familiar look of annoyance, “maybe if you ask me properly, i’ll say yes…”

irritating little brat… his irritating little brat; god, he fucking loves you

“will you marry me?” he deadpans, rolling his eyes as if it takes him all the effort in the world to utter those 4 little words

“i thought you were supposed to get down on one knee to ask me that?” you’re pushing your luck, you know you are

it’s just so fun to see your baby bear get get all riled up and annoyed at you

he just looks so cute with his brows furrowed and an angry little pout on his lips

besides, it’s not like he doesn’t know you’ll make it up to him one way or another

“you want me to get on the floor?” he sighs as he watches you nod your head, that smug look never once leaving your face

god, he regrets all those years he’s spent giving you everything you’ve ever wanted; it’s turned you into a little brat

with a shake of his head, he untucks you from his side and stands up

all he can hear is your pretty laughter and as much as he wants to get annoyed at you for finding so much amusement in pissing him off, he can’t

you just sound too sweet

he searches around briefly for something to use as a ring

he already has one—he normally keeps it in his pocket so when the moment feels right, he’s ready for it

but its in his jeans and they’re already strewn across the floor of his bedroom and he’s certainly not wasting time going to fetch it

desperate times call for desperate measures it seems

he grabs an empty can from the coffee table and yanks the metal tab free

“i know it won’t fit in your fingers but this is purely symbolic,” he says before you can make some sassy remark about it being too small for you to wear, “your real ring is in the bedroom; i’ll give it to you when we go to bed.”

and then he dips down to the floor, his knee thudding against the wood

he holds his hands out, the tiny piece of metal sitting atop his palm

it glints under the light, and for some reason you can’t help but stare at it

something about it makes your chest ache in the most beautifully romantic way and you’re not sure why… it’s not even a ring

but perhaps that’s just it; the knowledge that you don’t need some fancy ring to make this proposal special

no photographer to capture the perfect moment and no huge crowd of people to fawn over you

it’s just you and him, barely dressed in the living room of your apartment

it all feels so… perfect

“will you—”

“yes,” you cut him off with a desperate nod, no longer in the mood to tease him, “jongho, of course i will.”

your hands find his own, fingers dancing across his palms until you’re holding that symbolic piece of metal in your hands

it’s not an expensive ring, but it’s as good as

you hold it like it’s worth the same amount as the moon and the stars all put together, and then you just smile

you’re happy

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #jongho x reader #jongho fluff

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theminecraftbee · 3 months

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Joel stares at the ceiling. It’s sure a hospital ceiling alright. Grey tiles, fluorescent lights, a steady beep in the background. Great. He’s in the hospital his first day in town. He’s sure that bodes well for the future of his time in Hermiton, truly. What had he been saying to himself before he arrived? That he just had to survive one more year of high school and then he could go be a hermit in the woods or at least pass his exams to get that architecture degree he used to dream about.

“Oh, you’re awake! You’re the last to wake up. It’s just exhaustion, don’t worry. That always happens the first few times you summon your Persona. Your body gets used to it and stops trying to force you into the ground the moment you enter Real Space again eventually.”

He tries very hard not to groan out loud. If he doesn’t move or make any noise, maybe the weird guy won’t notice he’s awake. Maybe he’ll go away and like, whatever adult in town is currently supposed to be in charge of him will show up and sign some paperwork and Joel can leave.

There’s a long, awkward silence.

“You know, I can tell you’re awake. I already said so,” the stranger says.

“Shut up, I’m trying to make you go away,” Joel says.

The stranger snorts. “What, you don’t want information on your two friends you apparently risked your life to save?”

Joel… would kind of like that information, actually, but he’s not just going to say so.

“It’s not like I know them. I’ve been here five days. Idiot,” Joel says.

“I don’t know. Seems a lot like you know them,” the stranger says. “You’ll probably get to know them even more soon, after we do an assessment to make sure it’s safe for you all to enter Altered Space. It’s just been me and Scar for so long, I didn’t think other Persona users would ever show up!”

“What,” Joel says. “I don’t believe in Personas. They’re stupid. I was lucid dreaming. This is stupid.”

“Can’t you still hear yours? I think I’d go insane if I stopped.”

Yes.

“No.”

“Well then, maybe you’re the weak one. A strong Persona user would definitely still hear their Persona,” the stranger says, and look man, Joel doesn’t want to be doing this, but he can’t let ‘maybe you’re the weak one’ stand. It’s a matter of honor. Of pride.

“No, buzz off. I’m the strong one. I didn’t just awaken Pygmalion, I kicked ass using Pygmalion. Stupid Skizz and Impulse passed out immediately. And I was the only one who knew how to get to Skizz so, so, screw you, I’m super strong with your fake brain ghost thing.”

The stranger is quiet for a long moment. “Did you say you knew how to get to Skizz?”

“Yeah you just follow the evil butterflies. You should know, since you’re crazy,” Joel says.

“Oh my god,” the stranger says. “Oh my god. This changes everything.”

Something sinks in Joel’s stomach. “Wait, what does that—”

“I have to go tell Mr. Hills. Meet us when you get out of here, a doctor should let you out once you’re awake! But I have to tell him! Being able to preemptively find entrances to Altered Space! Fighting off a shadow and rescuing people your first time summoning a Persona! Me and Scar won’t have to be alone anymore!”

“No, I, uh, was lying, stop that,” Joel says unconvincingly.

“See you!” the stranger says.

“You forgot to tell me what happened to Skizz,” Joel says, finally sitting up to try to stop the stranger, but it’s too late. He’s already gone. Joel stares blankly after the space where he’d once been.

“You also forgot to tell me your name, you moron,” Joel says weakly.

He buries his head in his hands, breathes, and calls the nurse. If his strange classmate isn’t going to tell him what’s actually happening, then Joel’s going to find out for himself.

(Power throbs beneath a scar on his hand. A voice whispers agreeing remarks in the back of his head. He has way too many aches and pangs for last night—or, well, however many nights ago it was now—to be fake. But for now, he just wants to know Skizz is okay and go back to his stupid apartment and pretend none of this happened. Is that too much to ask?)

#smallishsona au #a bee fic #joel smallishbeans #grian #(not named but he’s the other persona user here)#I have decided I am going to write various ficlets for this au. click on the au tag to go find the first few posts if you��re confused.#let’s get this thing started with: joel wakes up in the hospital after his first battle and IMMEDIATELY regrets everything

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underoossss · 4 months

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the way you move- s.h -part 2

pairing: jock!steve harrington x ballerina!reader

1.9k words

warnings: language

an: part two of this best friends to lovers story, I hope you guys enjoy these smaller chapters instead of a big story with a lot of cuts. we have some jealous steve because that's always fun and some revelations. let me know what you think!

part 1

✰✰✰✰✰✰

“Stevie!”

Steve’s head whips to the right at the sound of your voice. Warm up had just ended and his teammates were on a water break after finishing all the drills he planned for today. A smile appears on his face as he lifts his hand up in greeting, putting his water bottle down and walking towards you. You look devastatingly pretty, with your hair already up and away from your face for your practice in an hour. Your backpack and duffel bag are slung over your shoulders while you hold your coat and a hoodie in the crook of your arm.

Dark blue long-sleeved leotard and black sweatpants are your outfit for the day –Steve knows you’ll wear the baby blue chiffon skirt today. He might even linger for the beginning of your practice just to see how pretty the colour looks on you. Madame Laverne will try to kick him out, but Steve can be pretty convincing.

“Hey babe, how did your test go?” Steve asks, leaning close to kiss your forehead in lieu of a greeting, he’s too sweaty to hug you but god knows he’ll take any excuse to be close to you.

“Aced it, I’m sure.” You smile brightly enough to knock the wind out of him, self satisfaction clear in your face. “I have Algebra tomorrow and I’m done. Mind if I hang out here?”

Steve rolls his eyes fondly; you always ask, and he always says yes. When has he ever said no to you? “When have I ever said no to you?”

You pretend to think just to tease him before laughing to yourself. “Thanks Stevie, I won’t bother you I promise.”

“You’re not a bother, come on let me help you with that.” Steve takes your bags and sets them on the bleachers you always occupy when you watch basketball practice. “I’ll walk you to class after, okay?” Fuck, he’s whipped.

“Okay.” You smile, that soft smile of yours and sit down, lighting up his body from the inside. “Good luck!”

I’ll need it. Steve thinks on the way back to his teammates. With you sitting so pretty over there he’s bound to be distracted, and he can’t have that.

“I see your girl’s come to see you practice.” Jacob Nully teases as soon as he’s back, and Steve rolls his eyes. “Honestly Harrington when are you going to ask her out?”

“We’re just friends.” Steve says shaking his head –Nully’s always rubbing salt in the wound.

“Please, you know how depressing it is to watch you pine after her for years?” Jacob fake gags. “It’s the only reason why no one’s asked her out you know. We know she’s your girl.”

“She’s n–” Steve begins to say only to be cut off.

“Speak for yourself.” Brad Connors, another teammate speaks out. “If Harrington doesn’t ask her, I might.”

“Shut it Connors.” Steve snaps, clenching his fists instantly like his body’s determined to fight for you.

Brad’s following laugh echoes around the gymnasium. “See, maybe jealousy will get him to ask her out. Better hurry though, Captain.”

With a shove to Steve’s shoulder Connors moves to center court and waves at you. You seem confused for a moment before you wave back, hesitantly. Fucking Connors. Steve would ask you out, he wants nothing more than to ask you out but he’s not sure if you feel that way about him too. You are best friends; you’re the most wonderful person Steve’s met, his best girl. What would happen if he asked you out and you reject him, where would that leave your friendship?

Steve’s mind can’t think of anything else even as he plays and shouts at his teammates. The same question circling his mind in a loop, his brain thinking really hard about your feelings. The two of you are attached at the hip, you do everything together and Steve knows the two of you are happiest when you do. There’s also the fact that you don’t date anyone, ever since you met Steve, despite there being more than a few attempts from people you go to university with. It always makes Steve’s blood boil, how they approach you and try to give the same compliment he gives all the time. It might be his fault though, for selfishly sending deadly looks their way the minute the show interest. But no, at the end of the day it’s your decision and you always say no to any of the guys that try to ask you out.

Then there’s those soft looks Steve’s always in the receiving end of, the way your eyebrows relax and smile does that thing that makes his heart skip. He knows you don’t look at anybody else like that and selfishly he begins to wonder if maybe his feelings have been reciprocated all along.

Your cheer can be heard around the gym when Steve scores a three pointer, which makes him look your way. It turns out, the hoodie you carried earlier and are now wearing is his. He’d been looking for it for a week and all this time you’ve had it. For anyone not playing, the bleachers can get cold during winter, and of course you had to shrug it on while he plays. Because you being there isn’t a distraction enough. No, you have to wear his clothes and look good in it; the oversized fit makes you look cozy and frankly adorable, and Steve knows Harrington is displayed across your back. It makes his heart jump to his throat. Steve smiles though, winking as a thank you for your ever present support. Your returning smile softens even more while your eyes flicker with more affection than usual, and Steve might be wrong after all. What if you feel the same way he does?

He's everything you want. The ache within your chest worsens every time you look at him because Steve during practice is lethally hot. If he’s handsomeness and charm outside the court, in it he’s passion, strength and hotness all in one. You can’t focus on Algebra, and selfishly knew so when you decided to visit Steve today. You can’t go away though, you’ve never been able to, so you brave the cold gym with his hoodie and watch the team play. Anything to see him wear those dark grey shorts that make you feel things you probably shouldn’t.

Steve’s team for the day wins thanks to his last three-pointer, a beautiful finish for the practice. You can’t help but cheer, and it’s worth it to see the way he smiles and winks at you. Selfishly you want him for yourself, then you’d be free to run towards him and kiss him to show him just how proud of him you are. How can you not be when you’ve seen how much he’s improved since he decided to join the team. His athleticism and discipline helping the team so much he was voted captain last term. If you could confess all of this to him in a kiss and show everyone he’s yours, you would. You don’t though, and only smile feeling your guard fall in a moment, affection clear as day for anyone to see. It only last a second before you remember to shake yourself out of your daze.

Having given up on your test for the day, you snuggle into Steve’s hoodie and watch the end of the practice. Enjoying the way Steve pushes his hair back or pulls the hem of his t-shirt towards his face. Your insides flip and you look away when you feel your body burn, but you’re spared any more torment when within seconds the coaches dismiss the team.

“You didn’t study,” Steve says as he approaches you, a towel around his neck and bag over his right shoulder. His eyes are a soft thing with more warmth than usual; different but you don’t know what.

“It was a fun game.” You shrug, putting your book inside your bag and closing it. “I’ll be fine. I can study some more after class.”

That makes Steve’s gaze move towards his watch and furrow his brows. “Let me change and I’ll walk you, okay?”

You smile and shake your head, you love him more than you can comprehend sometimes. “Stevie you don’t have to.”

Steve’s hand moves towards your face, holding your cheek briefly. “I want to.” He murmurs, thumb caressing the apple of your cheek before his touch disappears. “Five minutes. I’ll be right back.”

You can do nothing else but nod, face burning where the ghost of his touch still lingers. Steve is different, not in a bad way but different enough from an hour ago that you can definitely notice. His eyes kept gazing into yours like he wanted to figure something out and tell you something at the same time. There’s there’s the way he’d lingered like he didn’t really want to part from you. There’s no more time time wonder what’s going on because true to his word Steve is back five minutes later, in his burgundy sweater, black coat and backback thrown over his shoulder.

“Come on babe, you’ll be late to class.” He smiles, taking your duffel bag before throwing his arm around your shoulder.

The smell of soap and a hint of cologne floods your system with warmth and you can’t help leaning closer to Steve, your temple resting against his jaw as you walk. “Thanks Stevie.” You murmur, shivering lightly when the weather outside bites at your skin. “For always walking me to class.”

“You know I love to do it.” Steve’s smile is clear as day in his tone, and its followed by a kiss to your temple. “You think Madame Laverne will let me watch you warm up today?”

His question makes you laugh and shake your head. “You know how she is, I think you can imagine the answer to that.”

“But if I hide behind the curtains…” Steve proposes, seeking only to make you laugh again and succeeding.

“I fear for your well-being if you try to pull that off, Stevie.” You look up at him and smile, having reached the ballet studio. “Maybe when we begin practicing at the theatre, you can sneak in.”

“Oh I just might.” His smile is pure mischief as he whispers, face closer to you than before. Beautiful brown eyes meet yours and linger longer than ever before. Not that you mind. Not that you’ve ever minded. You would gaze into his eyes any chance you got if it wouldn’t make things weird between you. This is the first time Steve’s done it, though, and you wonder briefly if maybe he’s doing it for the same reason you do.

Your thoughts are interrupted however, by a honk on the other end of the street. The two of you jump apart and smile bashfully. What’s happening? Could your wishes be coming true at long last?

“I’ll be here when you’re done.” Steve hands you your duffel bag and smiles before kissing your cheek just like he did the other day. “Good luck.”

“Thank you, Stevie.” You smile softly and hug him goodbye. “See you later.”

The two of you linger a moment longer on the sidewalk before heading in different directions. Steve towards the library, and you inside the studio. Hearts pounding, in fear, in love, in determination. What if? You wonder all throughout practice, even as your feet hurt and more blisters appear. What if we both feel the same way?

✰✰✰✰✰✰

part 3

motivate an unmotivated writer, reblogs are appreciated ❤︎

masterlist

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x ballerina!reader #jock!steve harrington

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astoryisaloveaffair · 9 months

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Fix You - Chapter 15 - High and Dry

*gif by @pedrohub

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

Spotify Playlist

»»———————►

Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit!! 18+!

Chapter Warnings: Cussing, violence, drugs, sex fantasies. I will not be warning anything else due to spoiling the story. We are all grown. You can stop reading when you want to.

A/N: Thank you all for being so patient! I hope this doesn’t disappoint! It is a bit shorter than my chapters in this fic usually are but ending it where I did felt right, and I don’t want to beat you over the head with F E E L I N G S. Please keep in mind for this chapter that I am continuing based off the exact themes from Triple Frontier. If you find some things in Triple Frontier offensive, I probably wouldn’t continue reading. This has been the arc I have been working towards for almost two years, and I'm not going to waver. Just stick with me like you have been. It’ll be worth it.

* If a character is speaking in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this 🫠

Suggested Songs: “High and Dry” by Radiohead, “Breathe Me” by Sia, “Demons” by Guster, “Cry” by Cigarettes After Sex, “Cold Little Heart” by Michael Kiwanuka

For a few seconds you can’t even figure out what you’re looking at. Or maybe you can, but your brain doesn’t want to process it, the black of the night and the black of the gun meld together so there isn’t a clear outline.

It’s the shiny glint off the gun barrel under the streetlight that makes it real, and then you startle again when a male voice calls to you, muffled through the door.

“Get out of the car!!

You blink, your hand on your chest slowly inching towards your phone that you stashed into your bra in order to not carry a purse at the fair.

“Ah ah ah. No moving except open the door or I will blow your fucking brains out. You be good, I won’t hurt you. Get out.”

Your thoughts race and it feels like you’re silent for almost five whole minutes but you know it’s only seconds, because your hand reaches for the door.

You’re quick enough to figure out that if you try to put the key back in the ignition, he will shoot you before you can leave. If you pull out your phone, he will shoot you before you can place a call. If you try to hide, he could break the window in and grab you and it will make him pissed off.

Your only option here is to fight. You have no idea what this man’s intentions are and you are not going to ignore any chance you may have. Maybe if you hit him and ran—-

You swallow and open the door.

Immediately a gloved hand shoots in and grabs you by your hair, yanking you out of your seat and stumbling to your feet. There’s no respite once you catch your balance, as the man’s other hand pushes you hard in the chest back against the hard shell of your car and covers your mouth with the most foul smelling gloved hand you’d ever smelt.

It’s then that you notice, before you can even try to fight and make a break for it, that there isn’t just one man. It’s four. And all are dressed in black with masks on, completely encircling you. One presses a gun right up under your raised jaw, the other two aim at you from a distance.

There’s no way you can run. You can’t fight off four men, it would be suicide. But you’re not sure what other alternative you have. They might kill you anyways. Or they might let you go…after getting what they want. What they want could be worse. Your brain shuts down in panic, your eyes watering because your body will not allow you to close your eyes out of adrenaline or fear.

Then he speaks to you again.

“Where is the money”. You simply continue to stare, confused.

The man leans in closer, where his nose would be under the mask almost touching your own. It does nothing to dull how rank his breath and B.O. is.

“I’m going to let you talk, you be quiet and do not scream or I shoot you. Yes?”

You nod erratically, and he takes the rancid glove off your mouth.

For a moment you do consider screaming. But it wouldn't matter. By the time someone would even make it all the way across the parking lot to help you’d already be dead.

He asks again. “Where is the money?”

“What money?” You scrunch up your brow and you can hear your voice wavering. They know how scared you are. The gun against your neck pushes deeper, and you can feel the metal forming a bruise with how oppressive it is. “I–I don’t know what you—I have my credit card! You can take it, please have it!” Your right hand gropes its way into the open door of your car like you could magically summon the wallet to your hand.

“No. The money. The money they stole. Where is it?! They’re your sweethearts, yes? They share the money with you, and killed many of us. We came for the money.”

Your heart drops into your stomach as the night’s events flash before you at hyperspeed.

“How he went on a STUPID fucking mission with these idiots to burglarize a fucking drug lord completely off paper?...

Fuck. Fuck. But why would they come for you?

“I—I don’t know where it is. I, I understand now. I just learned this, I know what you’re talking about but I don’t have it, I don’t know where it is, they didn’t tell me anything about this, I swear—”

Your head almost recoils back with the force of his gloved hand, the large palm connecting to your cheek, leaving it stinging and your nose feeling like someone ripped it open. Your eyes water once more as you struggle not to start crying. Stay strong. You have to stay strong. Do not cry.

The man who spoke to you starts pulling you away from your car and into the dark, and despite it being an idea you’d already talked yourself out of, your instinct is to resist. “I told you, I don’t know where it is! I don’t! No–I’m not going anywhere! I don’t care how much you hit me–”

One of them turns to the other, rapidly speaking in Spanish that, thank god, you know just enough to interpret.

[“We should just kill this whore, then kill the big one’s other woman and take the baby. They can always get a new whore. They will come for the baby.”]

And suddenly it’s like your brain is the most clear it’s every been. “No! No, I’ll go! Take me, they’ll come for me, I promise. They will. And—and I’m easier to transport than a baby. You’d have to take care of it right?? Until they come?? That would be a lot of work! I’m—-I won’t fight I swear! Please just take me I promise you’ll get the money. Okay?”

The men look at each other, sending some secret silent message you can’t interpret. You look at the one standing in front of you. You can barely even see his eyes in the dark.

“Please. They’ll come.”

And then you don’t remember anything else.

It took everything he had in him not to turn and look at you, to shoot up off the couch and peer out that window to watch you leave, to rip the door open and run to you, apologizing for all of it. But he didn’t.

Instead, he sat there with his head in his hands, eyes screwed shut to keep the threatening tears from spilling out. Eventually, time and space faded out, he felt nothing but everything. It felt like he had been sitting on that couch forever and also for just one second. He felt dead inside. When he finally got up and trudged down the hall to bed, it was three in the morning.

He wakes to Gabi crying. “Fuck.” He grunts, as he rolls over to glare at his phone that didn’t go off. Except it did go off. He had slept through it, and it was almost 11am. His head is killing him, and he presses his lower palms into his eyes to try and alleviate the pain. It felt like he had a hangover, but he hadn’t had a drink or used. An emotional hangover.

Frankie hauls himself out of bed and stumbles to Gabi’s room, she is absolutely beside herself calling for him and rattling the railing on her crib. He can tell her diaper is full and she hasn’t had breakfast and now he feels like extra shit because of that.

“God, baby, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry honey…” he scoops her up and pulls her to his chest, cooing and lightly bouncing her to soothe the cries. “Daddy didn’t feel good, I don’t know what happened, I’m so sorry. Are you ok?” She sniffs and nods, wiping away a snot bubble. “Ok so I know you’re starving but you would probably also feel more comfortable after a bath. Does that sound good? Which would you like first?”

Gabi sniffles again. “um…baff.”

Frankie nods and carries her to the bathroom, immediately taking off her soiled clothes and starting to run the bath. While they wait, he softly brushes her hair, using his fingers to gently separate the cute little mats she sometimes gets in her curls.

He bathed her in silence, and he knows Gabi knows something is wrong, as she usually likes to play with her sea animal toys when she is in the bath. Today she is simply swirling the bubbly water with her finger.

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what she understood and what she didn’t. When he broke up with Lex she was too young to realize or know any better but now…now she was aware. And she had loved you…

So did he. His chest seizes in a searing pain as he thinks of you, the way your face looked when he said what he said. He hadn’t meant any of it.

It was a new level of heartbreak, because he had known better not to cater to his impulsive stubbornness, the insults and hateful comments that spill out of his mouth when he gets caught, when he feels backed into a corner. He knew better and he couldn't stop himself, his defensive and selfishness overwhelming him. And then you asked him about the farmers he shot. And it hit him.

He was a bad person. There was no denying it. He’d wanted to keep that side of himself away from you, he’d change the topic or just blatantly lie, but he liked the man he was with you, he wanted to prolong the feeling as long as he could before he messed it up. And he messed it up.

It suddenly didn’t matter to him in that moment that you could possibly forgive him. You SHOULDN'T forgive him. His past, his life, his actual shitty personality…you deserved more. You were so young, you could find someone new easily who didn’t have all his problems. So he pushed you away.

And you were fun to fuck, I’ll admit that. Let me do fucking anything…

He whips around and all but flings the toilet seat cover off the entire toilet and promptly vomits.

He is a horrible person…but he knew, deep down, that you would have forgiven him, that you would have stayed. And as the world fell apart and it all came crashing down around him, he knew you shouldn’t. But it still pissed him off that you listened to him, even when he knew this was right. He could not deny he selfishly still also wanted you to come back, to refuse to leave and beg and plead and tell him how much you love him. Everything is so complicated.

He pulls his head up and rests it in the crook of his arm along the rim of the tub. He feels a light poking and looks up to see Gabi.

“Daddy we done?”

He blinks, looking down like he had forgotten where he was and what he was doing. He reached for the loofah to rinse it from soap later. The water was getting cold.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He says nothing and nods, wrapping her up in a blanket and putting on her favorite mermaid scale leggings and a little Fleetwood Mac shirt you’d gotten her so she could match with him.

After settling Gabi with her food, he trudges into the living room, collapsing on the couch and opening his phone.

It barely rings before it’s picked up.

“Hey, Fish…was just ‘bout to text you. You ok?”

“No.”

Will began to speak, but Frankie cut him off. “Look I need you to watch Gabi for a couple days. I’m…off my dad game. Can I bring her over?”

“Yea…sure.”

Frankie could hear the hesitation in Will’s voice.

“I’m not gonna use.”

“I didn’t say you would.”

“Right. Be there in a bit.”

He told them mostly everything. If there was one thing he learned from you, it was that talking about it did make him feel better.

They said nothing at first but listened, offering words of support, because there was nothing to say. Your reaction was completely justified, and you were rightfully upset about being lied to. So was Maidali.

“Yea she won’t talk to me right now either.” Will sighs, and Frankie feels a twang of guilt that he had spent the entire time talking about himself.

His sad eyes make contact with Will’s. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is. Hopefully she can get over it. Flower too.”

“She won’t.” They could see this was a struggle for Frankie just from the muscles clenching in his jaw. “I made her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I made her break up with me. I—-said some really horrible shit. Shit I didn’t mean. Well, maybe I did at first cause I was mad but also…she doesn’t deserve this.”

“Deserve what?” Said Benny.

“Me, this, everything!” He throws his arms up gesturing to himself and around him before they thump back down on the couch cushions. “I wish I did deserve her but I don’t, and she has so much life ahead of her! I don’t want to tie her down to an old, fucked up, lying murderer, ok.”

“So…you White Fanged her?”

“….I don’t fucking know what that means, Benny.”

“Like, you loved her and knew she needed to be out there in the wild, it’s where she belongs, so you threw stones and shit at her to make her hate you and leave?”

Frankie blinks. “…yea.”

“But you still love her? You still want her, yea?”!

“Yes, but—“

“Well text her! Call her! Do something!”

Frankie hangs his head. “I already did. Cause I’m fucking weak. But it didn’t deliver. She blocked me. It’s what I deserve. It’s over.”

Before either of them could speak he stood up, indicating the discussion was over.

“Listen, just…watch Gabi for a couple days for me so I can feel like fucking shit and get over it and not have to listen to Lex’s fucking nagging if I ask her to take Gabi early.”

Will and Benny nod, each giving him a long hug before he said goodbye to Gabi and trudged right out the door.

And immediately texted his dealer.

He knew he shouldn’t. This wasn’t like his argument with you. He knew damn well he shouldn’t do this, that it would ruin his life probably. The difference is he just didn’t give a fuck. He didn’t deserve sobriety. He didn’t deserve good things. And he was tired of feeling the excruciating pain of heartbreak and abandonment that he had never wanted to feel again. The sharp twisting and turning in his chest coupled with nausea and dread. He felt you in every fucking heartbeat. He felt like he was dying.

He didn’t want to feel it this time.

He sighs, finished with chopping the chunky white powdered clumps up with his credit card, grabs a dollar bill from a his wallet, rolls it up, puts one end to the line of cocaine and the other his nostril, looks up—

And sees pictures of him and Gabi. At the zoo, washing his truck together with hose water splashing everywhere. A photo you took of Frankie and Gabi sleeping spooned together on the couch.

All new memories. All memories he got within the past 6 months. Memories he never would have gotten if he was still using.

No. He did still deserve that. Despite everything, he deserved to have Gabi in his life, and deserved to have a life sober. It was fucking poison, not just for his body but his soul and his life and his sense of self and even if it hurt, even if…

Even if you never come back to him. Because you told him he needs to fix himself for himself.

What you meant to him…what he had with you before he fucked it up, it meant everything to him. It wasn’t right to just get completely blitzed out to get through the pain. He needed to feel the pain. You deserved that, at least.

Before he can think about it he scoops the powder into his palm and runs to the toilet, throws the powder and the rest of the dime bag in, and flushes. Then he heads straight to bed.

He stayed in bed for days. Yea, he got up to eat, use the bathroom, answer “are you alive” texts, eat some crap junk food. But immediately after he would collapse back into bed.

He jacked off thinking of you constantly and hated himself for it. Your smile, the way you whimper his name as you came on his cock, he’d scroll through your secret nasty WhatsApp chat blowing his load to everything you’d texted to him, the voice notes you’d send him when he was at work of you masterbating and thinking of him…

That last time he’d fucked you when you’d been sleepy on the couch only in one of his old giant tshirts, how he’d pulled your panties to the side to look at you, so perfect and flushed. He’d placed a pretty kiss against your pussy and crawled over you, pulling his boxers down and pushed himself into you, groaning with a smile as your eyes fluttered open with a gasp. He’d slowly rocked into you as you whimpered in his ear, “Frankie Frankie Frankie Frankie I love you I love you I love you…” He had kissed you as you came because he loved hearing your moans vibrate against his lips.

That one time you joked about getting pregnant while he was fucking you and he had cum so fast he didn’t even know what happened.

Your pretty eyes looking up at him as you sucked him off, taking him deep and letting him cum where he wanted.

Your laughter.

Your smell. The sheets on your side of the bed still smelled like you, and after he orgasmed to you, he’d fall asleep clutching the pillow you used, burrowing his head into it as far as he could to remember your smell, pretending it was really you. Your smell was fading. It scared him.

He started not caring about meals when he learned you'd apparently blocked all his friends, even Benny.

It’s really over.

He slept for days. Because at least when he was asleep, he was either with you, or not conscious to realize he wasn’t.

You wake up to your entire body vibrating and your head searing with pain. The ground is cold, hard, and smells weird and your skin sticks to its texture. You feel liquid dripping slowly from your scalp and you try to wipe your brow but you can’t, and as you emerge from the foggyness in your head, you discover you have your hands bound and arms pulled behind your back. Your legs were bound too, all the way up to the knee and wow, obviously that’s why your shoulders and neck hurt so much.

You’re further disoriented as whatever transport you are in swerves in a tilt to the right and you slide across the floor and into a pile of boxes against the wall. A corner hits you in the back and you almost gasp out all your air from the force but you had a nasty rag stuffed in your mouth.

“Eh!” A sharp voice from further up in the vehicle calls. “You stop moving or I throw you out the plane!”

The plane. The rumbling was from you being in the fucking air, the texture sticking to your body was the metal framework of the cabin, and you didn’t know where the fuck you were going. You try to slow your breathing so you don’t hyperventilate and panic.

Surely the government watches all the planes flying around, right? They can’t just fly a plane in the airspace without them noticing? Right?!

But the plan is not stopped, not challenged, not asked to land.

You look over the top of the boxes and notice there’s a window, and you struggle to push yourself up against the cartons with your bound hands to stand, and continuing to use those boxes, you shimmy on bound legs to look out the tiny window.

You were flying over the ocean.

No one will be able to find you.

It’s finally too much. So you cry.

#pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic

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stayandot8 · 3 months

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Heart and Seoul

Genre: tooth-aching fluff

Relationship type: married nonidol!Chan x fem reader

Important Contents: thank you the request friend :) I immediately got an idea when you sent this to me and I'm sorry it took so long to write. I hope you like it.

request can be seen here.

WC: 1.8k

masterlist

Hubby: Guess what I got???

A picture arrived a second later of three plane tickets, all with the same destination: Seoul, South Korea. A flash of shock hit me and my fingers worked faster than my brain could process.

“Isn’t it awesome?! My parents helped pay for them so don’t worry, I didn’t spend too much money. Well, not yet anyways. I’m going to buy a snow suit for Celeste because she’s never seen snow before and she’ll want to play in it because if she’s anything like me but that’s beside the point!” Chris was so excited and when he was excited, he rambled about everything and anything. A change that occurred after he became a dad, but a welcome one at that. Getting him to share his feelings wasn’t too too hard when I came along, but ever since his daughter was born, he was a babbling mess. A good change, really. After five years, he’d really mellowed out with her safety. She had too many clothes to begin with with the overexcitement of her arrival from her uncles, but now she was down to only a few new outfits a week, and now he at least acted like he was thinking about it when he changed his mind from a ‘no’ to a ‘yes’. He couldn’t deny his little girl anything.

“Chris, she has snow clothes. Her grandmother bought some for her the last time we went to Korea in the winter just in case it snowed, which she’s still upset about.”

“I know, the weather app is stupid, they never know anything.”

“Chris! She has enough clothes! We’re going to have to give her our master closet if you keep buying her more things!” He was quiet to this, like he was actually thinking about the logistics of it. “Babe, she’s not getting our closet.”

“I know!”

“You were thinking about it though.”

“...Maybe. Then I was thinking about everything else I could buy her with all that room.”

“Chris…” I said warningly.

“I’m done, I’m done. She’s not getting our closet.”

“Good.”

“But she is getting a snow suit. Okay, love you, bye!” I clutched my phone as he hung up, shaking my head and wondering where in the world he was going to put one more thing she didn’t need. It wasn’t like he was buying nonsense, it was just that he couldn’t tell her no if she really wanted something. He was a good dad like that.

Me: Christmas with the uncles sounds good :)

Hubby: Start packing. We leave in three days :)

Me: Won’t mom be upset we won’t be in Sydney for the holiday?

Hubby: My mom will be fine, she’s used to holidays without me.

Me: Don’t remind me

Hubby: It’s yours we have to worry about.

It was true, I was worried that my mother would be upset about a holiday without her grandchild. She loved them more than anything, cherished her truly. The more I thought about it, the worse I felt about it.

Hubby: We’ll tell her together. We’re adults now, we can choose to spend the holidays wherever we like.

Always reading my mind, my husband.

The front door opened and shut, letting in the Sydney breeze along with it and a head of dark hair waltzed right in. Heading straight for the fridge, she reached for a small bag of apple slices just out of her reach.

“Mommy!”

“Yes, baby, do you need some help?” I was already off my stool at the kitchen island and heading towards her.

“Yes please!” She turned her shining eyes towards me, just as warm and comforting as her father’s. Her smile pushed her round cheeks upwards toward her eyes, just like his. Chan said she had my nose and he was more thankful for that than anything. He hated his nose.

She was still reaching for the bag, knocking a bottle of water to the floor. “Whoops! I’ll get it Mommy.”

“Oh thank you Cece, that was very helpful of you.” She loved hearing these things, loved hearing how she helped someone. Anyone. More of her father’s features shining through, she just loved to help in any way she could. I opened the bag and handed it to her. “There you go, baby .Do you want to watch some TV before your grandmas and grandpas come over for dinner?”

Once in a while, all the grandparents came over for dinner to spend time with the three of us. They wanted to see their Cece before all the holiday craziness came and they had to get busy with everything else that came with the holidays.

With the house smelling like grilled meat and rice, the doorbell rang like chimes in the wind, a touch from Chris when we bought the house. Cece ran to the door, yelling “I got it, I got it!” She opened the door to both sets of grandparents flinging their arms wide open at the sight of her at the door, her red sparkly dress swinging as she lept for them. They hugged her, bags swinging from their arms as all four of them came around her.

I was luckier than most with my in-laws. They had welcomed me with the most open of arms into their family and made me feel like a part of the family, like they had always been there just waiting for me. My parents got along with them, his mother bonding with mine over their love of plants and house decor. Our fathers got along with sports, the only issue ever being who was paying for the wedding (they both wanted to pay for it). They loved me and I loved them. I knew this situation wasn’t common, so I cherished it whenever they all came together.

“Cece, are you going to let them come in?” I laughed while they hugged her, knowing they wouldn't let go until she did.

“Oh, it’s fine, she’s fine.” Chris’s mom said while the others were putting their belongings in the hall closet. She picked up her favorite grandchild and held her until she arrived in the living room with all her toys neatly stacked. Celeste had a habit that she picked up from her father of finding joy in organization. It had to come from him because it definitely did not come from me.

As the other grandparents gathered around Cece on the floor, my dad followed me out the back door to find Chris hard at work grilling. They hugged and we watched Chris grill.

“How’s the producing business, Chris?” Neither took their eyes off the meat.

“It’s good! Keeps me busy, but I get to meet celebrities so it has it’s perks. And the company is still good with letting me off for time with Cece. So I can’t complain.”

“That’s because you still work on your days off. I still haven’t been able to stop him.”

I sighed and gave Chan’s back a reproachful look. My dad chuckled.

“Honey, you haven’t been able to stop him from working since you started dating. Remember Valentine’s Day a couple years ago?”

“Hey!” Chan finally turned around, mouth open in mock shock. “You said you were okay! You know how hard it was to get Tiger JK to actually sit down and work with me.”

“I do! And I’m still proud you managed to get it done in time.” I smiled and took his free hand that wasn’t holding a giant pair of tongs. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be a little salty that you had to miss our second Valentines together.” His eyes squinted.

“And have I made it up to you every year since?” He cocked his eyebrow.

“I need a beer! Anybody else?” My dad quickly jumped up to head back inside for said refreshment. I shot Chan a smirk.

“Was that necessary?”

“Hey, he could’ve done the math. Cece was born in November.” I rolled my eyes. His tone suddenly got serious. “Do you want to tell them now or after we eat?”

“After. Let them enjoy their time with her now.”

“You what?!”

The plates were cleared, Cece was passed out on the couch watching her favorite show, and the news had just come out. My mother, ever the drama queen, was fanning herself from the news. My father was helping her, if only to save himself the pain of a scolding from her later.

“Well, they’re adults now, honey. They can do what they like.”

“But they’re taking her for the holidays too, Richard. Did you think about that?”

“Yes I did. They’ll be fine, they’ll be back afterwards.”

“And besides,” Chan’s mom interjected. “You can spend it with us! We can get wine-drunk and celebrate Christmas ourselves without the kids.”

Chris grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers. My mother just watched us smile at each other.

“We miss Korea, mom. And Christmas is such a wonderful time of year, I just think this year we want to spend it differently. We’ll pick you up some of your favorite face cream while we’re there, too.”

“So the trip won’t be a total waste for you!” Chris tried to placate her, but her face remained unchanged. “Alright Mom, what about this: when we get back, you guys can have Celeste for a whole weekend, just her and you.” She perked up at that.

“Friday to Monday?”

“You can even bring her back Monday night.” Chris, ever the diplomat. A rush of pride went through me. My mom thought about it for a moment.

“Deal.”

Chris’s dad piped in.

“What about us?!”

Celeste did really well for her first plane ride. We arrived at the Incheon Airport around noon, but we didn’t know what awaited us outside until we stepped outside to our car waiting to take us to our hotel. Driven by Hyunjin with a passenger seat occupied by Felix, they waved us over before climbing out of the car to fling their arms open for Celeste, who stopped halfway to them, noticing the white fluff all around.

“Daddy, what’s that?” she asked, her voice dripping in wonder. Her eyes shining with pure curiosity, she ignored her uncle’s waiting arms to hold her arms out to catch the falling flakes. They disappeared as quickly as they had landed in her hand, but that didn’t stop her from trying to catch all of the snowflakes in her immediate vicinity. She jumped and reached, trying to reach the clouds they were falling from. This insanely cute action was met with laughter from all angles, and before she knew it, she was hoisted into the air by her uncle to get a closer look.

Chris and I stood by and let them catch up and enjoy the cold.

“She’s so cute. She takes after you, you know.” I placed a hand on my stomach.

“I dunno. Maybe this one will be just as cute.”

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lulublack90 · 25 days

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Prompt 6 - Ensure

@jegulus-microfic April 6, Word count 709

The fighting went on for what felt like hours. Order members against the Death Eaters. It was probably a lot less than he thought. James still didn’t know how long the fighting had actually gone on for.

He’d taken a stunner to the chest and flown backwards into a wall. He didn’t remember much after that, apart from Sirius’s and Remus’s blurred backs in front of him as they protected him from further damage.

Aurors began to apparate into the warring groups. The Death Eaters, now substantially outnumbered, began to disapparate. The abandoned factory filled with the sound of the retreating cracks and the final few curses flung over shoulders.

“James! James! Hang on, we’ll get you out of here.” Sirius sounded panicked. “Remus, help me. We need to get him to Marlene.”

James felt hands under his armpits, hauling him up and then the uncomfortable squeezing of apparition.

“Marlene!” Sirius yelled into the dark house. “Marlene?! Where the fuck are you?!” The brown-haired witch stomped into the room.

“Who the fuck do you think you are talking to Black?” She stopped when she saw James’s limp body. “Get him to the bedroom.” She ordered. James’s feet dragged along the wooden floor. He didn’t have the energy to lift them.

They deposited him on the bed, and Marlene hurried in with her healer’s bag. She began running her wand up and down him, muttering under her breath. Several glowing diagrams floated above him. “Hmm,” She hummed as she inspected him. “He’ll be fine. You’ll have a nasty bruise and probably be quite sore for a week or so, but I have a balm that will help with that.” She vanished the diagrams and dug around in her bag.

With another wave of her wand, she opened the buttons on his shirt, revealing the purpling skin beneath. Gently, she spread the balm across his chest. He sighed with relief as the tightness across his skin eased. He quickly fell asleep. Too tired to keep his eyes open.

It couldn’t have been that long after he fell asleep that shouting woke him.

“Did you really think I couldn’t find him, Sirius? I know exactly where he is every moment of the day.” He recognised that voice, but his sleep-addled brain couldn’t make the link.

“Go away, you’re not wanted here,” Sirius growled back.

“Oh, get out of the way, Sirius!” A scuffle occurred, and then James heard footsteps coming towards his room. The door flung open, and there stood still in his Death Eater robes was Regulus. James was beyond shocked. He hadn’t seen his ex for over three years.

“Reg?” He croaked. Regulus walked to the side of his bed and took his hand. “Why are you here?” He didn’t pull his hand away. Even though Regulus was fighting on the wrong side, he knew he was safe.

“I needed to ensure that you were alive.” He said flatly. James looked up at him, peering at his emotionless face and into his eyes. His eyes always gave him away. Most people couldn’t read them, but James could. Those steely grey windows into Regulus’s soul. He was scared. His fingers trembled ever so slightly around James’s hand.

“I’m okay, love. Marlene checked me over. No broken bones, just bruising.” He watched as Regulus’s shoulders relaxed a notch.

“I’m glad.” He barely whispered, his eyes trailing over James’s body. He lifted James’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “Stay safe, James.” He demanded before he gently placed James’s hand back under the covers and left the room. “Yes, yes, Sirius, I’m leaving. But if you think I’ll leave him alone, you’re as mad as Voldemort.”

Sirius and Remus came rushing in once the door had slammed shut behind Regulus.

“James, are you alright?” Sirius clambered into the bed, checking on his friend.

“Yeah, I’m fine. He was just checking I wasn’t dead. He won’t be back. Don’t worry.” James knew he was lying. Regulus had revealed something that he didn’t think the other two had picked up on. ‘As mad as Voldemort.’ James ran those words over and over in his head for hours. Hope, building in his chest, that maybe, just maybe, Regulus wasn’t as lost as they’d all thought he was.

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maesterchill · 3 months

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WIP Snip

Ha. I got tagged again, thank you @elskanellis @wolfpants @mallstars for the tags! This is Another snip from my Dronarry (8th year) - it's a bit earlier in the story than the last one I shared.

The only person Draco tells about the scar is Pansy. Pansy is delighted, of course, the cow, casting a Lumos under the bedsheets, and then smoothing her fingers over the zig and zag of it, her eyes dramatically wide.

“What’ve Mungo’s said about it?”

Draco laughs right in her face. As if, after the shame and carnage and awfulness, he would honestly present himself to a Healer and say ‘Yes, hello, how do you do? I have a lightning scar on my stomach. You know, just like that chap has, the one who just saved the world from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. That sort of scar.’

No, Draco won’t be doing that.

“Pomfrey, then? She might know.”

“No, Pans. Just drop it. It’s just a coincidence.” Draco buttons his pyjama top back up.

“But you said the Dark Lord used an Avada on you. That's— there's no way you’d survive that.”

“Maybe I misremembered,” Draco says tiredly, flopping his head back onto the pillow. He knows he didn’t though; the cold enunciation of the words had been crystal clear, the jet of light that hit him unmistakable in its sickly greenness. "Could have been some other spell."

“Unless.” Pansy rolls closer to him, smirking. “Unless it means that you’re the next Chosen One.”

“Har bloody har,” he replies. “Who’d choose me? And for what?”

“I would, Draco. You know I would. I could put you to very good use.” She slides even closer, her tits pressing against his arm, all soft and fleshy under her nightie.

Draco groans. “Go to sleep, you horny old hag.”

She laughs. “I’ll never turn you, will I? Such a shame, the most beautiful boy at Hogwarts.” She strokes his hair and he closes his eyes. He’s so grateful for her. For Greg too, and the others.

He feels the delicious pull of sleep, tugging at him softly. Perhaps tonight he’ll be spared the nightmares.

It’s been helping having Pansy next to him. Holding him. They comfort each other. Pansy’s suffered from anxiety ever since Draco’s known her, but it got ten times worse following the war. This seems to be the only way they can get a proper night’s sleep. Millie and Greg have been sharing a bed too, both grieving.

“You’ll need to tell Potter,” she whispers. “He ought to know.”

“Wrong on both counts,” Draco mumbles back. He throws an arm around her waist and pulls her closer. She rests her head on his shoulder. Her hair smells of tea tree. “Now shut off that meddling brain and close your eyes.”

I'd love to hear a snippet from @starquestingfordrarry @rainstormradish @drarrymyheart @greattemptation @sillywives @hoko-onchi-writes @apricitydays-lazynights @annanother-thing @myrtlefics @geesenoises @basicallyahedgehog @pl0tty @stationintern if you'd like to share, that is 🥰

#wip snip #drarry #dronarry #maesterchill writes

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queen-of-the-avengers · 4 months

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Wolf in Sheep's Clothing: Part Two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: heavy angst, talk of rape, talk of being abused, feeling afraid even after leaving the abuser, shutting down, fearful of your life, facing your abuser after you left him

Summary: Bucky helped you out of an abusive relationship even though you don't feel 100% free from John. He will always linger next to you, a reminder that there are bad people in this world. Bucky is there by your side helping you through it in every way he possibly can.

PART ONE

Squares Filled: jailbreak (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

For the first time in a year, you’re not sleeping by John’s side. For the first time in a year, you’re able to be left alone without him. For the first time in a year, you’re able to breathe properly. For the first time in a year, you’re finally able to say you’re free from John. You don’t believe it and probably won’t as long as he’s alive, but in the moment you are.

Bucky and Sam took you back to their place where you’ve been holed up in. They let you use the spare bedroom but you haven’t used it yet. You’ve been sleeping on the couch and they’ve both been kind enough not to ask you why you won’t take the bedroom. Your brain is hardwired to know what happens when you walk into a bedroom, and even though John isn’t with you, that fear is still there.

It’s been two days since you’ve gotten to Bucky and Sam’s place, and you haven’t moved from your spot on the couch unless it was to go to the bathroom. Bucky and Sam are in the kitchen whispering to one another like they’re afraid to say what they want in front of you. You get it. You wouldn’t know what to do if you were in their shoes.

Your brain still thinks you’re with John which is why it’s drowning in fear even though you know you’re nowhere near him. After Bucky beat the hell out of him, he was taken to the medical wing on base for treatment. He’s miles away from you, so why can’t you get out of your own head?

Sam nudges Bucky into motion as the super soldier walks over to you with a plate of food. You jump when you feel his presence next to you, and he takes a step back to gain some distance.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. It’s just me.” Seeing how it’s Bucky in front of you and not John, you relax a bit. “Are you hungry?” You can only shrug in response. “Doll, you’ve barely eaten in two days. You need to eat.”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, barely audible.

Before you have a chance to take the food, Bucky moves the tray away from you with a frown.

“Look, I know it’s hard to break away from what you had with John, but your life is different now. I meant it when I said he won’t ever hurt you again. You’re in control here, Doll. If you don’t want this food, Sam can make you something else you like.”

“Do I have to eat it all?”

“You eat however much you want to eat. If you finish and want more, that’s okay. We’ll get you more. If you only eat five bites, that’s okay, too.”

“I don’t know what I want,” you whisper fearfully.

It’s not about the food anymore. You truly don’t know what you want. John always chose for you. He chose what you wore, what you ate, what music you listened to, what TV shows you got to watch, everything. Everything about you, John carved. You don’t know how to live without him, however fucked up that sounds.

“That’s okay. I’m going to leave this here. Just try to eat something.”

Bucky leaves the tray next to the couch and walks back to Sam. He’s fucking pissed because he knew who you were before meeting John. He knew how bright and outgoing you were. Now, all you are is a shell of who you used to be. You can get there again, but you’re going to need a lot of help. Even then, it won’t ever be one hundred percent.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Bucky growls.

“You nearly did. He’s still in the medic ward.”

“He should be six feet underground for what he did to her.”

“What did he do?”

All Sam and the others know about John is that he was hurting you. No one knows exactly what he did, and he going to keep it that way. If you want to tell people, then you will on your terms. If you want Bucky to be buried with this secret, then that’s what he’ll do.

“Not good things. I’ll be back. Make sure she drinks water. She’s dehydrated.”

Bucky grabs his jacket and leaves the house. He only has one thing on his mind: John. If he can’t kill him, then he’s going to make sure John is not even in the same country as you. Bucky walks right onto the base without a problem and into the medical wing where John is. John must not have confessed who beat him up otherwise, Bucky wouldn’t have been able to set foot into the medical ward.

John is recovering quickly from the injury due to the serum but he still needs to take it easy or else he’ll damage his ribs even more. They’re letting him go home today, so he’s packing up his bag when Bucky walks in. John freaks out and backs up as Bucky walks toward him.

“Hey, man, I’ll stay away from her.”

“You’re gonna do more than that,” he chuckles. Bucky grabs John’s throat with his metal arm and squeezes. John reaches for the button that calls the nurse but Bucky is too quick for him. He grabs it and throws it at the wall which shatters. “First, you’re going to give the shield back to Sam. You don’t fucking deserve it. Second, you’re going to take whatever you can and get the hell out of the country. You don’t deserve her.” John claws at his hand but it’s useless. “I swear, if I see you around town, I will do more than break your fucking ribs. Do I make myself clear?”

John nods and Bucky lets go of his throat. He doubles over in pain and coughs as he tries to get air back into his lungs. Bucky leaves the room without another word and heads back home. Sam is in his bedroom and you’re lying on the couch sleeping. His heart hurts for you but he’s going to do whatever it takes to bring the light back into your eyes.

He grabs a blanket off the sofa chair and gently lays it over your body, but you jerk awake at the slight contact. You gasp so loudly that it scares Bucky. Your mind reverts back to when you were with John and you tense immediately.

“Please don’t hurt me,” you beg tearfully. “I promise I’ll be good.”

“Hey, Doll, it’s just me. You’re safe,” Bucky says and backs up to give you some distance.

You calm down once you see it’s Bucky, and you sit up with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. Bucky walks around the couch and kneels down so you don’t have to lift your head to look at him. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Don’t you ever say your sorry for how you’re feeling. Whatever it is, it’s completely valid.” You reach out and grab his flesh hand. It feels so warm in yours. “I know you’re scared. I know it will take so much time for you to be even half of who you were before, but I am here to help you with whatever you need. I want you to feel safe with me.”

You do even if you don’t know it yet.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “All my stuff is at his house.”

“I can get it for you if you want.”

“I need more clothes. I’d rather do that myself.”

“Sure. Whatever you need.”

“Please come with me.”

“Like I’d let you go by yourself. Of course, I’ll go with you. It’s already late. We can go tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

You lay back down on the couch and allow Bucky to cover you with the blanket. He turns off the lamp and leaves without another word. It takes you an hour to get to sleep, and all you dream about that night is Bucky. Your nightmares are filled with John and the things he’s done to you, but you make Bcuky appear and that fear goes away. You taught yourself how to lucid dream because that’s the only place where you could escape John’s cruelty, so you use it to your advantage now.

The next day, you prepare yourself to face John again. Even if he isn’t home, you still have the four walls of his house to remind you of what the past year of your life has been like. You grab Bucky’s hand as you walk up the front porch steps, and he squeezes your hand in return. You walk in and see John packing some things into a box. You immediately freeze when his eyes lock onto yours. You hide behind Bucky who rubs the back of your hand in comfort.

“You’re okay. He can’t and won’t hurt you.” John would be a dead man if he tried. “Go and get your things.” You keep your head down as you pass by John to get to the stairs. “I’ll be right here. Don’t worry, John won’t go up there.”

You run up the stairs and Bucky turns to John with a glare. He sighs and continues to pack the important things.

“Here.”

John reaches behind the kitchen island and tosses the shield at Bucky who catches it with his metal hand. There is a silent agreement between the two men that neither talks about. Ten minutes later, you come down with a big suitcase full of everything you want to keep. Everything else can burn with the rest of the house for all you care.

“Come on, Doll. We can leave now.”

He holds his warm hand for you, and you take it without looking at John. Bucky takes your suitcase and puts it in the trunk with the shield while you stay seated in the passenger seat. You play with your fingers nervously even after Bucky has driven away from John’s house.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

“Anything for you,” he says honestly. “I mean it. Whatever you need, it’s yours.”

You look into his eyes and smile ever so softly. It’s going to be a long road to recovery but you know with Bucky by your side, you’ll come out the other end in one piece.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes angst #marvel fan fiction #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #marvel fanfiction #mcu #marvel #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction #marvel angst

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ineffablecastielsstuff · 3 months

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I've been walking around with an idea for a Good Omens AU "human - teachers" slowly taking shape in my head for a while but it was never clear or urgent enough to actually put pen to paper. Yesterday though I finally started writing again and I have this familiar feeling of "I need to write this, I need to see their journey, I need to see them happy in the end!" Yay! I have missed that feeling so much since finishing my GO long fic!

I won't start publishing before I'm not a little further into writing it, but I needed to shout somewhere that I am back at writing. Hope you'll understand! Here's a little unpolished snippet of what I've written today:

"Seems like you’n’I are the only ones left,“ he suddenly heard a drawl from behind his chair. He turned, and his brain needed a few moments to take in the sight in front of him.

[...]

"Uhm. Well, yes. It appears so,“ Aziraphale finally replied. Then he held out his hand. "Aziraphale Fell,“ he said, since he wasn’t entirely sure that Mr Crowley would know him by name.

"Yeah, I know who you are,“ he replied, waving a hand nearly dismissively and ignoring Aziraphale’s offer of a handshake, "you’re the English guy, doing the plays and getting the kids to read. Always catch at least one of the year 8s reading under the table when they come from your class.“

Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure if this was meant as a compliment or a complaint so he kept his mouth shut and waited.

"Anthony Crowley. Just call me Crowley though. Never liked Anthony,“ Crowley continued with a smirk.

"Delighted to meet you, Crowley,“ Aziraphale said, biting his tongue immediately after those words had left his mouth. Make an even bigger fool of yourself, why don’t you, he scolded himself internally. Crowley’s smile widened.

"Aw, there’s still people out here talking like that, ey? Or did you drop out of one of those 19th century novels? Or just read too many of them?“, Crowley shot him a teasing look that left Aziraphale slightly breathless.

"As you might have noticed, I said delighted to meet you. Not delighted to make your acquintance, which would have been the proper reply during the 19th century. Seems like I should lend you some books as well,“ Aziraphale took Crowley’s remark in stride and raised his eyebrow. Aziraphale rarely needed more than a pointed look and a raised eyebrow to tell a student that they were toeing a line, and he couldn’t help but tease Crowley with his best teacher look. It seemed to work.

"Ngk.“

"Maybe reading would help with your vocabulary as well.“

At that, Crowley threw his head back and gave a full body laugh.

"Oh, here I thought I’d have a little defenseless angel as my partner, but turns out you can be quite the bastard, can’t you?!,“ he roared, delighted.

"I reckon that no angel would ever be defenseless, with the heavenly powers backing them up,“ Aziraphale remarked. He had never expected to stand here, bantering with Anthony J. Crowley, but he was really enjoying himself doing just that.

"True,“ Crowley replied, biting back on the laughter. „Angel it is then, and we won’t mention the bastard side of you ever again. Now let’s compare timetables to get those bloody lesson observations out of the way.“

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #fanfiction #writing #ao3

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greenbergwrites · 4 months

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Green. I’m a starved man. I’ve been rereading your post about Steve and Etienne being feral and Bucky trying to take care of them. If you have anything in your beautiful brain about that to continue off of. I think I’d cry. Love and appreciate you for everything you do and have done <3

Real talk, the original story I’ve been trying to write all year has been a feral!Omega plot inspired by that very post. [I even kept the name Etienne for one of the minor characters 😂]

Feral!Omega is apparently my new fixation and I regret nothing.

So yes, I will happily continue that story for you.

Original post here for anyone who needs a reminder.

–

The feral Omega can walk out of his cage under his own steam. His companion, still as quiet as ever, cannot. Along with whatever injury has him bleeding, there appears to be something wrong with his foot.

Bucky kneels beside the boy, permitted reluctantly by his protector, pursing his lips as he looks it over. The feral Omega hovers just over his shoulder, that warning little grumble-hiss still in every breath he takes. Should Bucky do or say the wrong thing, he has no doubt the Omega will attack.

He tries to keep himself and his scent as calming as possible, but it’s not easy. The boy’s foot is bent at an unnatural angle and seeing such an injury on an Omega makes him want to rage. His anger would accomplish nothing but agitating the feral Omega and potentially scaring the silent one, so he tamps it down as best he can.

The Omega is too dirty for him to figure out of it’s an old injury that’s healed wrong or a newer one that can be more easily fixed. Either possibility is unacceptable–angled like it is, it has to be causing the Omega pain.

“We’ll get this fixed up in no time,” he murmurs to the boy, keeping his voice soft and soothing. “For now, will you permit me to carry you?”

The Omega blinks up at him with those big, blue eyes. There is an air of vulnerability to most Omegas, but it’s more intense with this one. His gaze is so open, so sad. Bucky wants to find everyone who’s responsible for that expression and hurt them slowly.

The Omega nods silently.

Carefully, Bucky scoops him up. The boy is so light, it’s almost sickening. He pauses, giving himself a moment to rest his cheek on the boy’s hair.

No one else will hurt you, he vows silently.

He promised it aloud already, and he’s sure that neither of them believed him. He won’t fail them, though. He will make sure they’re safe.

The feral Omega vibrates with tension, as if wants to snatch his companion from Bucky’s arms and carry the boy himself. As small as the other Omega is, Bucky isn’t sure he’d succeed, though. Perhaps that’s what stops him.

“Follow me,” Bucky tells the feral one, his voice still soft.

It doesn’t soothe this one quite like it soothes the Omega in his arms, but it doesn’t seem to hurt, either.

Outside, the rain hasn’t slowed. Most of the vehicles are gone now, as are most of the humans. Two black trucks and a single ambulance remain, all three parked near what appears to be a triage tent near the entrance to the warehouse. The Enforcer that guided Bucky inside is standing near it, holding open the flap to allow them inside.

The feral Omega darts forward, putting himself between the Enforcer and Bucky, snarling loud enough to be heard over the storm. It doesn’t seem to register to him that he’s being drowned by the rain.

Bucky sighs softly, shifting the Omega in his arms as he approaches their little bodyguard. He lets his fingers brush over the feral one’s damp arm.

“Enough,” he chides. “Get in the tent so we can all get out of the rain.”

The Omega glares at him, but after a glance to his companion, he reluctantly obeys.

Inside, the tent is set up with a gurney, two chairs, and a rudimentary set of medical supplies. It’s also empty.

The Enforcer comes in behind them, letting the flap shut behind him.

“You said they don’t like humans,” he said, “but all the medical personnel on site are human. I have some training, but unless they’ll allow the others in, it’s all we have.”

Bucky nodded. “I think we can make do with the two of us.”

It takes quite a bit of coaxing, and more promises of safety from Bucky, but the feral Omega allows the Enforcer to help his companion. Bucky can take care of their superficial wounds, but the foot requires more training than he has.

By the time Bucky’s found cleaned and bandaged their cuts, the Enforcer has cleaned the silent Omega’s foot and examined it. Now that the dirt is gone, Bucky can see that his foot is swollen and red, making the injury new.

He hates how relieved he is about it. The idea of an Omega being hurt at all is unthinkable, but at least they won’t have to re-break the bone to set it correctly. He isn’t sure the feral Omega would be able to stand that.

“I’m going to have to set it,” the Enforcer says apologetically, looking to the blue-eyed Omega. “It’s going to hurt, but only for a second.”

The Omega looks to Bucky, and Bucky can almost hear what he’s thinking.

You said I wouldn’t hurt anymore.

Or maybe that’s just his guilty conscience, promising something before he knew all the facts.

Bucky touches the boy’s hair.

“If there were any other way,” he said, “we’d do that instead. But if we leave it, it’ll heal wrong and we’ll have to re-break it if you want to walk again. It’s up to you, but setting it now is better.”

Frankly, Bucky is surprised it hasn’t healed itself already. The fact that it’s still swollen and fresh is worrisome. Their kind don’t heal quite as quickly as the movies portray, but they do heal fast. It should be at least halfway there already.

The Omega looks back at the Enforcer and nods solemnly. His feral companion, though, snarls before the Enforcer can even touch him.

Bucky takes him by the arm, pulling him closer. The fact that the Omega lets him is a good sign, considering how hostile he is. He takes the feral Omega’s face in his hands, making sure the boy is looking at him.

“We have to do this,” he says firmly. “It’s what’s best for him. Hold on to me if you have to. Don’t look. Whatever it is you need, but you have to let this happen. Do you understand?”

For several long seconds, the Omega just stares at him, and Bucky worries that he doesn’t. That he’s too far gone to truly grasp what’s happening.

Then, thankfully, he nods. It’s small, and the boy’s breath is shaky, his gaze displaying fear for the first time. But still, he nods, and Bucky knows he isn’t so far gone.

“C’mere,” he says, gathering the feral Omega to him, and the boy buries his face in Bucky’s chest, his fingers gripping Bucky’s shirt tightly.

Bucky shuffles them closer to the gurney, because he can’t allow one Omega to be comforted and leave the other bereft. He keeps one arm tightly around the feral Omega’s back and lays his other hand on the back of the silent Omega’s neck, squeezing lightly.

The silent Omega reaches up, grasping his wrist.

“Eyes on me,” Bucky orders him. When the Omega obeys, staring up at him, he tells the Enforcer, “Go on.”

It’s quick. A little jerk of the Enforcer’s hands, the snap of bone going back into place. The feral Omega jolts in his arms, trembling, and the blue-eyed Omega closes his eyes, his breath hitching almost imperceptibly.

When it’s over, Bucky relaxes his hold on both Omegas. He sighs in relief, nuzzling first the feral Omega in his arms and then leaning down to do the same to his companion.

“Good,” he murmurs to them both. “You were both so good. I’m so proud of you.”

The blue-eyed Omega gazes up at him in wonder. He leans back until he’s resting against Bucky’s hip, pulling Bucky’s hand down to rest on his chest. He keeps holding onto it, clinging to Bucky as fiercely as his companion does.

The Enforcer reaches for something to bandage the ankle with. By the time it’s wrapped, both Omegas have calmed considerably, though neither of them have let go of Bucky yet. He doesn’t make them, either. They’ve been through hell, and whatever comfort they want, they deserve.

The Enforcer clears his throat awkwardly.

“Neither of them have a pack scent,” he says to Bucky. “Until they can tell us where they belong, the next step is to have a local pack foster them. We’ve already contacted the closest ones, their Alphas should be here soon.”

Bucky’s instinctive reaction is to protest. These Omegas are no one to him, not in any sort of way, even though it feels like the opposite.

They trusted him enough to let him get them out. They trusted him enough to allow the Enforcer into their space. They trusted him enough to allow pain, no matter how briefly, and to let him comfort them through it.

He swallows down that instinct, though, knowing that he has no right.

Reluctantly, he nods and tries not to tighten his old on the Omegas.

“Okay,” he says, and the word tastes like ash on his tongue.

#nani asks #greenberg replies #a/b/o dynamics #feral omega #etienne and steve

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wolfiemcwolferson · 1 year

Note

HI teachers au + blind date with our dear boys piarles?

Goooooood morning Sol 💙

Have a dose of Piarles with a side of Carlando.

Charles agrees to go because Lando is freaking out about it. “You don’t understand,” he keeps saying, “I like him SO MUCH.”

Charles knows he likes him so much because Lando won’t shut up about him, but he doesn’t say that.

Charles has never been to a hockey game so he has nothing to go off of, but Lando said the tickets were free and that Carlos was bringing a friend too and “could you please try and have fun with the guy?” Lando had seen a picture and thought he was cute - someone Charles would go out with normally.

Charles says yes because he loves Lando and because he really does think Carlos is good for him and also because he hasn’t been on a date in nine months. So.

Charles wears his green sweater.

Well, it’s not actually his…it’s a reminder of like…the hottest thing that ever happened to him. But it makes him feel…confident? Desirable? Dare he say, sexy?

Lando doesn’t know the story behind the green sweater so he doesn’t make him change.

Charles pushes his hair off his forehead and then follows Lando downstairs and to the place Lando parked his car when he came over. They’re meeting them at the arena because Carlos was coming straight from work or whatever.

The ride is silent, Charles bounces his leg up and down in the passenger seat and Lando chews on his lower lip. “You didn’t have to-” Lando starts to say.

“I just feel dumb.” Charles cuts him off. “You know I’m awkward with new people.”

Lando laughs, but takes his hand.

Carlos is waiting for them just inside the arena and says, “Perfect timing, Pierre is just coming in too.”

And then, he points to the other set of doors and in walks green sweater AKA: the TA that Charles had in college that he slept with at the end of the semester and then never called because he was embarrassed and 21 and afraid of rejection even though the two of them had spent three months toeing the line of what could happen.

He thinks Pierre schools his face fairly well into a mask of neutrality but Charles knows he’s unsuccessful.

Charles wants to melt through the floor, but Pierre shakes his hand like he doesn’t know him and Charles ignores the looks of concern Lando is sending his way and then Pierre suggests Charles accompany him to get them some drinks and Charles goes because he thinks Pierre is going to tell him that it’s been three years and there are no hard feelings and they’ll just never see each other again.

What he doesn’t expect is for Pierre to reach up and run one finger along the collar of the green sweater - his green sweater - and smile at Charles. “I was starting to think I had made you up. Some kind of grad school delusion I conjured to stay sane.”

Charles’ brain is going too fast to make sense of what’s happening. He feels himself turning red and he wishes he could stop it. Pierre always teased him when he turned red like that.

“Do you like hockey?”

Pierre’s finger is still on the collar of the sweater.

Charles shrugs. “I don’t know anything about it.”

Pierre smiles at him, but it’s soft around the edges. “What if we go get dinner after this? Me and you? I can explain hockey or you can tell me about who you are now.”

Charles knows he looks startled, “You want -”

Pierre’s laughter interrupts him. “You have no idea how twisted up I was about you, do you?”

And then the bastard winks at him.

“Want to see if it could happen twice?”

Charles takes his hand. Yeah, he thinks, he wants to know if it could happen twice.

#we got lucky once could we get lucky again #you ask i ramble #piarles #side of carlando

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ventya · 1 year

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cw: implied abuse, implied csa

head empty just thinking about Billy misreading things, misreading the act of kindness by Hopper and Hopper’s willingness to accept him the way he is. Billy is so uncertain but when he is so close to Hopper and his heart feels in his throat. ‘This is what he wants, this is what I have to do’ Billy thinks to himself before leans forward with closed eyes.

“What the-!” Hopper’s voice is loud and he has pushed Billy with both hands. “Are you trying to kiss me?”

Billy’s eyes snap open staring at an angry looking Hopper- or at least that’s how he perceives him. Billy’s heart thuds fast against his chest. But Hopper’s reaction is not clicking into a place.

“Jesus Christ kid!”

Billy’s eyes widen and he leans back. Oh he has totally misread. Sure Billy might be have been allowed to talk about Steve but maybe Hopper hasn’t taken him serious. Hasn’t seriously believed that Billy is that.

“I-I-“ Billy can’t even find any words to speak. He squeezes his eyes shut. Having Hopper be there for him was nice. Having Hopper not treat him like Neil did was nice while it lasted.

“I’m 30 years older than you! I thought you liked that Steve kid. Christ.” Hopper is rubbing his face, a confused expression on it when Billy dares to open his eyes. “You’re a kid. You’re a fucking kid.” He seems to chant.

“I like Steve.” Billy says almost like an automatic response, brain fuzzy.

“So why in the world did you-“ Hopper groans loudly rubbing his face again. Billy blinks

“I thought you wanted me to.”

“And why would you think that?” Hopper’s voice got loud again. Billy flinches moving away.

“You treat me nice. You let me talk about Steve.” He gulps and he feels his eyes sting looking down.

“Me being nice to you?” His voice carries disbelief and when Billy looks up at him his mouth goes dry.

“Yes!” Billy eyes are red. “I thought thats what you wanted. You are so nice to me! I don’t get it! You let me talk about Steve like-like you got it like you wanted me to.”

Hopper feels his stomach turn, nose scrunches. “You’re a kid Billy. You’re a fucking kid,” he breathes out.

“So?! No one ever cared about that!” It’s Billy’s time to get loud. Hopper stares at Billy, who has tears rolling down his eyes with a laugh that was void of joy bubbles in his throat. “No one ever cared.” Hopper could almost taste the bile in his mouth he squeezes his eyes shut trying to calm himself down.

“Now,” Hopper opens his eyes reaching out slowly to put it on Billy’s hand almost hesitantly. “Now you have.” Billy stares at him, brows furrowed but not speaking. Tears silently falling from his lashes. Hopper sighs. “You’re a kid, Billy. All I ever want from you is to get better. To do your best, yeah? Don’t want anything else.”

Billy looks down his lap, glaring at his own hands that curled around his jeans. Now he feels embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” the words are hard to get out. “Please don’t-“ he looks to the side scared to look up. “I won’t do it again. I swear.” He forces himself to look up again. “Just don’t…” Billy can’t freaking say it but Hopper gets it. Because Hopper squeezes Billy’s hand.

“Hey,” he says softly, the voice he uses when he’s talking to El sometimes. He is hesitant and unsure of how to really move past this but its how Billy looks up at him. So desperately that Hopper couldn’t bare to push him away. He couldn’t. “We’ll work on this, yeah? We’re going get through this.” They can get through this, right? Billy can unlearn this, can learn how to deal with kindness. Hopper is sure.

#cw implied csa #billy hargrove #jim hopper #cw implied abused #thanks #i forgot about the word implied

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sp00kies · 4 months

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Tell me, in full detail, what ur hyper fixated on RIGHT NOW.

im talkin, THE LORE. THE CHARACTERS, THE FAVORITE CHARACTER. EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!! 1! 1! 1! 1! 1! 1! 1! 1! 1!!!!!! 1! 1! 💖

Long post incoming. You have been warned.

I HAVE SO MANY FIXATIONS RIGHT NOW AHHHHHHHH. But y’know? Imma do all of them because I’m built like that 💪

TF2

The fucking LORE AND CHARACTERS MAN. They all have so much character and traits to them…… also the fucking lore is so wild bro.

Abraham Lincoln was the original pyro. Yes, 16TH PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES ABRAHAM LINCOLN WAS THE ORIGINAL PYRO IN TEAM FORTRESS 2. And he invented rocket jumping!

It amazes me how the community has kept it alive for so long. Not to mention that the game released on the 10th of October, a DAY before I was born! I’m the same age as this game and it’s like one of my all time favorites. It’s destiny y’all.

As for favorite character? MEDIC ALL THE WAY

Adventure Time / Fionna and Cake

THIS FUCKING SHOW MAN AAAAAAAAAAA

The story is beautiful, the relationships are realistic and beautiful, the L O R E. A simple mistake made the Lich inevitable in ALL UNIVERSES, MEANING NO ONE IS SAFE FROM HIM. Not to mention that he has his own universe where he successfully wiped out all existence, except for BMO. BUT EVEN THEN BMO ENDED UP DYING ANYWAY.

Simon and Betty’s relationship is devastating but beautiful and the endless love they still share for each other gets me in the feels EVERY TIME.

I’m so excited for season 2 coming out next year. The ability to be normal is OVER.

Favorites are Simon, Betty, Fionna, and Jake. I love them to bits.

HLVRAI

First hyperfixation of 2020 and it came back. This whole series is comedy gold. The characters rub off each other and the memes that came from this. “HELLO GORDON!!!” is permanently infused into my brain.

Plus this and TF2 made me meet one of my long time online friends/online brother so I owe it a great deal. Wayne is a comedic genius, you guys. This series had me pausing the videos because I kept laughing too hard.

No joke, y’all like need to watch it. All acts and parts are on YouTube, watch it now. Do it, no balls. You won’t.

Legit all of the characters are my favorite but Benrey has a special place in my heart.

Five Nights at Freddy’s

I want you to ask my friends about which movie this year I was most hyped for and they will tell you because I literally did not shut up about the FNAF movie.

FNAF has been my longest hyperfixation, ever since it came out. My family will tell you which game I love because I do NOT shut up about this franchise. Hell when the first trailer for the movie dropped, my whole family asked me when I was gonna watch the movie because they knew DAMN WELL that it didn’t matter how it was gonna happen, I was going to watch that movie. And I did on opening day!

FNAF is so important to me, you guys have like no idea….. this franchise has helped me so much, and I fucking LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU GUYS OMG!!!!!!

Favorite character of all time is my boy Lefty. I love that bear.

#sp00ks’ screaming #asks #anon thank you for letting me ramble about my fixations #I love these fandoms so much…….#fuck it imma tag them #tf2 #adventure time #fionna and cake #fnaf #hlvrai #long post

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snowandwolves · 5 months

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hey it’s your neighbrohood (i'm not even gonna fix that i like that lol) lengthy ask anon - i am having a shit day but thinking about summer in the lighthouse au with Ava in a tank top and tool belt made me feel better so thank you for that

i have more qs kinda a lot today bc i am just so done with this day but you can pick and choose which (if any!) to answer. hope you have a good weekend ❣️

any thoughts on how Chanel meeting Bea would’ve gone?

did Bea pre-plan to tell Ava at the lookout or did she spontaneously capitalize on Ava already going there?

whose bedroom in the lighthouse house did they sleep in most often?

has Bea seen a storm from the lighthouse before?

D gave Ava new shoes, but did she ever get a new backpack?

that brief reference to Shannon broke my heart - do you have thoughts on how she passed?

do you have thoughts on how Camila and Lilith got together? and how Lilith even learned/chose to barista?

did the “DIBS” moment just come to you in a moment of inspiration or something bc it still makes me giggle just thinking about it

speaking of writing, did you write each section linearly or did you jump around or something else?

your note in the epilogue sounded like you don’t read fic when you’re writing? what's on your to read list?

HI LENGTHY ASK ANON omg, sorry for the late response, it’s been busy and i need a year-long weekend without risking going broke 😂 been itching to respond to this so imma do that now 🥹

1. probably chanel just exposing ava like “so you’re the one she’s been losing brain cells for” and ava just slapping her elbow and being all “omg shut up i trusted you” and bea not wanting ava to feel embarrassed so she’d prolly say “she also has that effect on me” then chanel would stare at them blushing and then say something like “ok that’s adorable. i need a drink and you need to tell me more”

2. she’s definitely been DYING to say it, but then when ava told her that she’s going to the lookout, bea decided to do it there just to give ava a moment she won’t forget 🥺

3. ava’s! because bea’s room is suzanne’s and the things they get up to with a bed nearby is just,,, not for suzanne’s room 😂

4. i’d say yes! though she prolly didn’t intend to. i have it in my head that she just got stranded there while cleaning it and unintentionally gave herself a come-to-jesus moment 💀

5. backpack i think she bought for herself. for some reason, i also have it in my head that she’s in a group chat with her family (salvius clan + chanel) where she asks them for their opinions and everyone choosing the more expensive option and ava being like “pls i’d have to lose a kidney” and everyone in the group chat transferring her various amounts of money and ava just staring at her account like “thank god you’re all rich. now, i’m rich by association” 😂

6. this one, nope, i haven’t actually thought about. let’s say an accident? omg what if that’s a reason why mary doesn’t ride a motorcycle anymore…? it wouldn’t have been her fault but askdnskd ok i hate me 😭

7. so this one gave me a cute scene i ended up daydreaming about 🥹 cos what if camila taught lilith how to make drinks before she got formal training for it and start a cafe? what if, while in the process of making a cappuccino, camila just randomly tells her “i like you a lot”? what if lilith fumbles and accidentally burns herself and camila just giggles and takes lilith’s hand and takes care of it, just waiting for lilith to manage words? 😭 WHAT THEN

8. i definitely planned it to be as hilarious as possible but i also didn’t think i’d be using DIBS for it. that was a fun moment to write 😂

9. my writing process is kind of a mess. i do try to write linearly so i don’t have to worry about pacing and transitions and flow. but then i’m in the middle of work or folding my laundry or literally just eating and a scene/line/whole ass paragraph just comes to me vividly 😂 this is why i have my notes app perpetually open. i write the basics of anything that comes to me and then go back and figure out a way to use it if i can. this is also why i have v many fragments that didn’t make the cut 💀

10. idk if it’s just me but i find it hard to read fic and write my own at the same time 😭 so i have,,, a long list actually. literally anything that’s been published and completed in the last 8 months i’ll be reading 😂

anon, i hope your days have been better since you sent this. you deserve the kindest, gentlest, best days 🥺💙

#ask #projecting the warmest softest vibes to u anon #i just discovered page breaks omg im old

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