#{ surrounded by idiots : musings of me } | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

two-white-butterflies · 2 months ago

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she's got away

Description: You frame your husband for your murder. It looks like Homelander has finally found his match.

Pairing: homelander/supe!reader

Warning: infidelity, murder, downfall of homelander, implied domestic abuse, planned suicide.

A/N: inspired by amy dunne. also, because i know that homelander isn't just gonna marry some basic bitch, he wants that crazy 😭

Homelander has read all news articles about you, your ex-boyfriends couldn't stop talking about the beauty of being the recipient of your love, but that was the thing. It was beautiful when the full warmth of your love is focused on them, but once the spotlight shifts - it leaves them feeling empty, reeling because of the loss.

When he married you, he expected that spotlight to be on him 24/7. "I can't believe that you convinced them to cancel the deal," a giggle escapes your mouth and Homelander's jaw clenches. Seeing you draped all over Stan Edgar made him want to kill that man. "It isn't that difficult when you have the D.A's office on retainer," the man boasts in a low whisper, but Homelander can hear him.

He can hear every little conversation happening inside the building. He glances at you - what did you have that he didn't? Why does Stan Edgar trust you of all people?

"Well that ought to remind them," you mused, taking a sip of your fizzing champagne. "Of what?" Stan raises an eyebrow.

You look straight at Homelander's eyes. Aware that he was listening in to your conversation with the executive. "that Vought isn't a superhero company. It's a pharmaceutical company." The sweet smile does not leave your lips, his jaw clenches - eyes glaring.

How dare you!

Openly defying him in front of Stan Edgar. Besmirching everything that he built and fought tirelessly for, just to twist the knife. Homelander had half the mind to march in your direction, to grab you by the arm and fuck you in front of all the executives that you tried to kiss-ass to. He takes a deep breath.

He mumbles a few curses, none loud enough for anyone to hear.

His heart sinks to the bottom of his chest once he realizes the glaring truth, that your love was beginning to slip away. The spotlight that all your exes couldn't stop talking about was now moving to the next big thing, and no one leaves Homelander! No one leaves him!

"Cheers," he hears you offer a toast.

He sees a woman standing in the table in front of him, clad in a black Etro dress that she probably rented just to wear. She looks like you in some lights. Homelander smiles - a lazy yet charismatic smile.

He walks towards her.

"It must be boring for you, watching all these idiots drink wine." He opens his mouth to speak, and the woman's attention turns towards him. Oh, he was going to move his spotlight before you move yours.

You lazily walk towards your shared apartment with Homelander. It was never a great pleasure spending the night here, the decorations were too manly and corporate for you to ever feel at peace with the surroundings. Dark blue walls - endless fake pictures, and that constant smell of perfume makes your head hurt.

A sigh escapes your mouth as you sink deeper into the sheets. His bed was magnificent - almost like he slept all the time. You sent him a message an hour ago, but he hasn't responded yet. "Where the hell are you," you mumbled while opening your phone - quickly navigating towards the 'find my phone' app.

Uh, yes, you put a tracker on your husband without his consent.

The app loads rather quickly, and you zoom out of the map - to see John inside of a Hilton Hotel. "Son of a bitch," you cursed. You rise from the sheets, sitting down and leaning on the bed-frame. You dial Ashley's number, and she answers on the first ring. "Where is Homelander?" You ask before she could say hello.

"Um, uh, I-" she stumbles in her words.

"Don't lie to me, please." Your voice was surprisingly soft. If the phone call was recorded, you didn't want it to come biting your ass in the future. "I don't want to tell you," Ashley responds in a firm tone. "I won't tell him that I know. It's a promise." You vowed.

"He's going to kill me. I don't want to get in the middle of this." She begged, her voice sounded desperate. "Well, you are in the middle of this and if you don't tell me then I'll find a way to screw you over." You threatened, recorded call be damned, playing good cop was over.

"He's at the Mandarin. He met with someone, please don't tell him that I told you!" She cried, a scoff escapes your mouth.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

yourname: This cape stands for everything that I believe in! It is also a reminder of how thankful I am to call this beautiful land my home. #FosteringTheFuture #Homelander

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homelandertruther: No supe has ever done as much damage to America than Starlight. Thank you homelander 🦅🇺🇸

MyEyesOpen: God bless this country

BootySheath99: Christians for Homelander >>>>

A fake smile ghosts your face as you feel his muscled arms wrap around your body. "Where were you?" You question. Not a nerve in his body showed signs of nervousness, which only made you think that he's been doing this for a long time. How it didn't eclipse your radar? You're not entirely sure. "I had a meeting with Madeline." He lies, pressing a kiss to your naked shoulder.

All men do is lie.

"At the Mandarin?" You raised an eyebrow, a sigh escapes his mouth. He presses another kiss to your naked shoulder, before pressing his face to the crook of your neck. "You don't have to be so damn possessive. It was just a meeting and Madeline is a prude." He talked down on the woman who was responsible for his success.

Your fingers danced across his clothed body, playing with the strands of his perfect blonde hair. This love story began because of a coffee shop, because he wanted to see the good in this world - and found it inside of you. He liked getting his ego stroked, you stoked his ego and then some. He liked watching old american films in his room projector, and you listened to him ramble about every little detail. He wanted a cool girl, and he got her.

Being a cool girl and being his wife is a mutually exclusive event. The occurrence of one supersedes the other and vice versa. You can't be 'cool girl' and also be his wife. It is humbling to become something that you once mocked. "I can't help it," you mumbled.

"No one is going to steal me from you," he promised. Oh, this was the first time that he addressed your feelings towards one another - and it looks like he's only doing it to not get caught. Who is his mistress? You wondered. Was she more beautiful than you? Did she have blonde hair or piercing blue eyes? Was she a southern belle, or perhaps a foreign woman who he has never seen before?

"What's happening to us? We're not happy anymore," you breathed out, watching as his features turned darker. His pupils dilated, his jaw clenched, and his grip on you tightened. This was another one of your mind games, one of the things that you'd do before pushing him off the edge. "We are happy." He insisted, because the truth is - there is no use being in a relationship with someone when you're not at your happiest. "We were happy." You corrected, pulling away.

"I know that you met with someone else," you whispered - almost in fear that someone else could hear. "I'm angry - disappointed, but I also love you. I want to be happy, again, with you." You confessed.

He kept staring at you, looking deep into your eyes, almost unable to decipher between the truth and your lies. "John," you refer to him by the name closest to his heart. His eyes soften, thrown back into the reality that you're nothing like him - there was not a bone inside of your body that schemed, or got jealous, or thought of bad things. You are good - the only good part of him.

"I'm sorry, baby." He apologized.

You press a kiss to his lips. Fuck you.

"Hello, you may all know me as Homelander's wife or Comet which is my superhero name. But my real name is Y/N Gillman. A few days ago the NYC District Attorney subpoena'ed me and I agreed to testify against my husband. He's done a lot of bad things. I'm not really sure if I'll be safe. If something happens to me, Homelander did it, my husband killed me."

The television screen fades to black, and his daunting reflection stares right back at him. A few hours ago you were reported missing, seemingly abducted in the middle of the day - and now this video is going viral. Homelander admits that it doesn't look good on him. "What the fuck is going on!" Madeline barged into the office, obviously as discombobulated as he was.

"I was hoping that you could tell me," a shrill air of madness hovers over his poignant figure. He wanted to kill the person in charge of posting this video, he wanted to know if you did this on your own accord - or if there was a gun pointed at your head. The thought of both sends him reeling into a cage of madness.

"I-I think that there's a reasonable explaination for this. She could be abducted by a terrorist group and forced to film this confession." Ashley came to your defense.

Homelander clenches his fist.

"If my wife was abducted under Vought's watch, then, I'm going to kill everyone, and I don't care how this plays out in social media." He threatened, glaring at Madeline - who he was sure had everything to do with this. Madeline takes a deep breath, regaining her composure - and an unnerving smile ghosts her lips. "We should all calm down, Vought is trying its best to track her down right now." She smiles.

"Make it fast!" Homelander raises his voice, throwing a vase in Madeline's direction.

Y/N GILLMAN'S DIARY ENTRY #30

Dear Diary,

My husband looks at me so sweetly, I can't help but think that he's the man of my dreams, the father of my future children, and the love of my life. Lately, I think that this man of mine is going to kill me.

He had sex with someone else. Mandarin Oriental. Find my Phone. It wasn't that hard to figure out. I confronted him last night, and the way that he promised me that he was going to change - almost had me believing that he would. My mother always said: men never change. My mother was right.

I opened his phone (don't ask me why I know his password) but I saw that woman's message. MISS U INSIDE ME. I fucking hate her.

Like any good wife, I confronted him about it (again) and he told me that it was nothing. I can't remember the other parts of our conversation, but it dragged on for so long that I almost thought that it would never end. He told me that he'd kill me. I think he's going to.

"Detective Harold Brink. I'm here to solve your wife's disappearance," the man shook Homelander's hand. The Detective had a certain rogue-ish charm to him, tanned skin with a light stubble. He had a head as big as his ego. Harold Brink seemed confident in his skills. Homelander is going to be the judge of that.

"Shouldn't you be out in the field doing exactly that? You wasted time coming here," Homelander gritted his teeth, staring at the man from his head down to his toes. "Nothing but protocol, Homelander. I don't want to point a finger but there was a video going viral, an accusation made by the person missing, if you may." Harold states.

He doesn't have to be a genius to understand that this incompetent detective was pointing a finger in his direction. "We also found her diary when we searched your apartment." The man lays the book on the table in front of him. He sees your beautiful handwriting, with loops and straight lines. Your handwriting always danced between the line of print and cursive. "I think this man of mine is going to kill me, a direct quote if you weren't able to read." Harold says smugly.

Homelander contemplates killing the man, but it would be obvious. His demographics were going down, he was already facing a media trial - Harold was his hail mary, whether he liked it or not.

"Hyperbole. You don't know my wife." Homelander insisted, seeing the glaring red lights in his periphery. The cameras were rolling, he needed to make a performance of the lifetime. "- and clearly you don't either. I have a video of her saying that if she were ever to go missing, then you'd be the one responsible for it. I also have a page from her diary alleging that you wanted to kill her." Harold says.

"I'm not at a deposition." Homelander glares.

"You will be, soon." Harold stands up, hearing footsteps from the outside. Most probably Homelander's lawyer. "I'll give the subpoena to your attorney," he informs.

Homelander stands up.

"Give me all the papers that you want, but my wife is out there. Instead of spending time trying to back me into a corner, maybe you should actually begin to do what the American taxpayers are paying you to do. Find my wife!" Homelander yells, and on cue the door opens. "How dare you talk to my client." His lawyer says.

Homelander sighs, this was going to be a long month.

homelander: My wife is missing. If you have seen her please report to the authorities. Keep us in your prayers ❤️🙏🏻

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homelander: There has been an avalanche of fake news coming my direction. I want to make it clear that I would never do anything to hurt my wife. The video that has been going viral is a deepfake. 📍 pinned comment

cometfanbase: There's literally evidence of u cheating on her 😭

kuchie92: #WeStandWithHomelander #HereForHomelander

"What is this?" Homelander shoves the phone in Ashley's direction. "Your legal counsel and the PR firm decided that it would be wise to post something in light of..." Ashley does not finish her words. She keeps her distance from Homelander. "I'm surrounded by fucking idiots. What if someone looks into that video and finds out that it isn't a deepfake?" He questions.

These people at Vought keep underestimating the power of social media. "We already took care of that. We own all the deepfake detection software, and they all flag that video down. Plus, our influencers have been posting a lot of videos to sway public opinion." The woman continues speaking, after three shots of vodka - fear doesn't make itself evident.

Homelander sits down at the head of the table. "Updates about the case?" He wanted all the insider information. He also wanted to know if you were really abducted - or just faking it to punish him. "They think that she was abducted, there was blood on the floor, signs of struggle. Vought thinks that we're dealing with a larger force, people who have the resources to pull this off inside of Vought Tower." Ashley avoids his stare, placing a stack of files on the table.

If Homelander was to find out that she was the one who told you about the affair, then she was going to be food for the worms. "Cameras?" He takes a sharp breath. "All records have been wiped from the database. They're trying to recover it but it's a slippery slope." Ashley continues, shifting as she stands.

Should she really be the person to tell him about all of these? One wrong word and he's going to shoot a laser through her head. "Get out of my sight," Homelander leaned on his chair - Ashley scattered faster than pigeons do at the sight of danger.

Madeline warned him about his temper, told him that he wasn't allowed to kill anyone until they were able to find you. She really thinks that he has something to do with your abduction. For the first time, Homelander is innocent in this crime.

His heart beats a little faster at the thought of you being held in danger. Hopeless against your abductors because he wasn't there to protect you. He looks like a goddamn pussy. It is his duty as your husband to protect you, and he couldn't even make sure that the cameras in Vought Tower were working.

When he finds you - when he finds the person responsible for this. He is going to kill them. He's going to torture them gently until they beg for death, and he's never going to give them death. He's just going to make their existence a meaningless chore. Born to be tortured. Born to be reduced to nothing but limbs and organs.

The perfect radical justice.

He was just about to shoot his lasers through the window but Harold Brink walks through the sliding doors of the Seven meeting room. "Homelander, you're coming with me. You have the right to remain silent..." Harold's voice drowns out once he feels himself stand up, his hands wrapped around by cold steel handcuffs.

You will remain in police custody until the investigation is over.

The following day, his lawyer came marching. His pays the man $10,000,000 annually and Homelander can say that he is worth the money. His cell (if he could call it that) was luxurious, a double mattress bed and five star dining - it was almost a vacation. But his mind couldn't rest - all he could think about was you.

If you were safe, fucking with him, or actually dead in a ditch.

"You need to make a public statement." His lawyer made his message very clear. "The Seven has been doing work without you. Vought has been talking about suspending you, most of all, half of the public thinks that you killed your wife." The man updated.

"If I speak then everyone is going to think that I did it for public opinion." Homelander gritted his teeth. He could easily get out of this facility in a blink, but due to propriety he must stay. "If you don't speak then everyone is going to think that your shameless," his lawyer enunciated. "- if we allow that fact to sit then it will become the truth." He added, handing him a file.

Presumably, the script for his 'public' message. Homelander brought to his knees by a goddamn missing person's report. "My wife is still missing. I'm not seeing anyone do anything about that. They're all pretty determined to point the finger at me." Homelander scoffs.

The man in front of him adjusts his glasses. "Did you do it?" He questioned, aware that Vought made contingency plans - so that no one would be able to record Homelander during his 'jail' time. "No," Homelander said with all the strength in his chest.

His people, the Americans, were turning against him.

"It doesn't matter anyways. As long as there is no body, they can't make us do shit. Now, about that public announcement, I'll be back here tomorrow - and ease up on the whiskey." His lawyer stands up.

HOMELANDER'S INTERVIEW

Cameron Coleman: Did you kill your wife, Homelander?

Homelander: I did not kill my wife, I am not a murderer.

Cameron Coleman: But you hurt her. You were unfaithful to her.

Homelander: I was. I am not proud.

Cameron Coleman: How do you expect us to believe you, when we all know that you're a liar?

Homelander: I didn't come forward about that fact because I knew that it would make me look bad. I knew that no one would trust me if that fact ever came forth. A real man doesn't hurt his wife. A good superhero protects everyone, but I'm just a man. I don't care about my reputation anymore. I need my wife, because I know that I need to make it better. I was a bad husband to a wonderful wife, that is the truth, Cam.

Cameron Coleman: And you expect us to [cuts off]

Homelander: I met Y/N L/N ten years ago and I was enchanted by everything that she did. She made me believe that there was good in this world, as I was always exposed to all the bad sorts, all the bad crimes. My job as a superhero has desensitized me to violence, I thought that violence was normal. When she came into my world I realized that it wasn't, life could be and can be gentle and kind. I wanted her to love me so I pretended to be something that I was not.

Cameron Coleman: You talk like a man who believes that his wife is still alive. Is she?

Homelander: She is alive. Please stop talking like she isn't.

Cameron Coleman: Okay, what would you like to say to your wife?

Homelander: Y/N, I love you. You are the most special person in this world, and I have hurt myself over the things that I've done to you. Come home, please baby. I'll spend my whole life trying to make it up to you, trying to be the man that I promised to be. The man who makes you happy, the man who thinks and remembers everything that you love. I'm sorry for doing the easy things instead of doing the right things. Come back, please.

Homelander: I'll do everything that you want me to do. We'll build a house by the beach, I'll stop being Homelander. I'll give you kids and dogs and make you that surfboard that I always promised to buy.

[tear trickles down Homelander's eyes]

[screen fades to black]

A gasp escapes your mouth as you finished watching his interview. A sudden realization comes to you. This man has killed for you - this man is killing himself for you. He has stripped himself bare of everything that he holds dear (he only holds his reputation dear). The American consensus on his morality has waned significantly.

They all think of his name and spit on the ground. Once he realizes that no one loves him, he's going to burn the world. And isn't it your duty to keep Homelander down to earth?

This husband of yours has hurt you so much, but he also knows what kind of words to say to keep you drawn back to him. You were twin flames, both with large fires, just waiting to burn each other out. No one understood you like him (vice versa) and he is the only person who's able to match your craziness.

The wanton desire that he feels over destruction. The wanton desire that you feel over destroying him. We are born for each other, you thought. You made that man - filled his boring and touch-starved self with attention until he began forming his own ambitions. He's nothing without you, and Vought is nothing without you.

A few weeks ago, you really wanted to kill yourself.

You planned on slitting your throat down the river. Your dead body would wash up on the shores, and everyone will point their fingers at Homelander. His life was going to be ruined, his reputation, his demographics - he was going to be a FAIL in all demographics. But now, maybe you should get back to him.

Because he really loves you. He wants to make it up to you. He knows the words to say to rile you up, and he knows what words to say to make you forgive him. He was the Adam to your Eve.

Your creator and your ruin.

If love doesn't rile you up, make you change yourself, make you evil, then it isn't love in the first place. It's dependence.

This thing that you feel for Homelander. It's love.

Love in its own twisted way.

#homelander x reader #homelander #the boys #homelander fanfics #the boys fanfics #john gillman x reader #john gillman #homelander's wife

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harmonyloveangels1990 · 3 months ago

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Open Master/Slave RP (Male, Female, or Futa only)

Nami is a master thief. She has stolen from many pirates and Marine soldiers. She has used those skills to help her crewmates and helped them get out of any sticky situation. However, with them separated for 2 years to improve their skills before they reunite, Nami had needed to try surviving during this time.

And that's where your muse came in. She's been working with them to steal from the idiots she has surrounded herself in. Wearing a sexy revealing outfit to distract them. While your muse goes in for the steal.

She even had to pretend to be their slave while they serve as her master. Though once they returned to their hideout, she knew it wouldn't be just pretend.

"See? That was easy. I distract the losers and you steal from them. Easy. Just glad they didn't try going all grabby on me before I left." said Nami as she puts the gold in the chest while still wearing the outfit. She turned to your muse and formed a smirk when she saw them getting turned on. "Although, I can tell you were getting hot from my performance too, huh?"

((Have some fun with her))

#open rp #open #open starter #open to all #open to anyone #open to everyone #rp

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laurenairay · 4 months ago

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felt like magic - N. Hischier

Summary: Nico has been pining for years – maybe this summer is a chance to finally do something about his feelings for you.

I’m jumping in as a pinch-hitter as part of @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange 2k24, with a Nico Hischier story for @selfindulgentpoorlywritten! I really hope you enjoy this – I had a lot of fun creating something from the prompts you gave me. And who doesn’t love Summer Nico?

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: pining, childhood friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, some bad language

Title (and song lyrics) from Caffeine, by Jack Kays

Stay with me, If it’s not our time then will you wait for me? I know that we’re young, but this is destiny I couldn’t be me without you, without you

Travelling from Bern to Zurich wasn’t something you’d do for just anyone. An hour and a half driving across the country, surrounded by drivers who were just as impatient to get through their journeys as you were? Not your idea of fun. At least the destination was more than worth it.

“Happy birthday Jonas!”

The man in question turned around at the sound of your voice, a big grin sliding onto his face.

“You made it, liebling! Thanks for coming!” Jonas said happily.

It wasn’t every year that you got to celebrate the birthday of one of your favourite people – early May wasn’t exactly the most consistent time of year for hockey players after all. And the last thing you wanted to do was remind him of the early end to his season. So when Jonas had called you to say that he was hosting a birthday party at his house in Zurich and invited you to spend the weekend, there was no way you were saying no.

“As if I’d miss the event of the summer,” you teased.

Jonas just beamed at you.

“Schatzi! You survived the A1!”

You peered around Jonas’s broad shoulders to see another one of your favourite people – Nico. It was through Nico, one of your childhood best friends – that you’d met Jonas in the first place so you should’ve guessed that he wouldn’t be too far away. Usually you would’ve made the journey with Nico, both of you coming from Bern after all, but he’d already been visiting in Zurich so you’d been stuck with a solo trip this time.

And damn did he look good. It wasn’t something that you let yourself think about often, being just his friend, but Nico was genuinely one of the most handsome people you’d ever seen, let alone become good friends with. It wouldn’t do you any good to travel down that road of thoughts though, so you were always careful to nip those feelings in the bud. You were friends. Great friends. Incredible friends, and that’s how it was always going to be.

“I’m here,” you mused, “had to greet the birthday boy before anyone else.”

“Yeah don’t be jealous,” Jonas teased.

Interestingly, Nico blushed slightly and glared at the taller man, before clearing his throat. “Can I get you a drink?”

“I’ll grab something myself in a minute, but thank you,” you said, smiling sweetly, “Let me just give Jonas his birthday present first.”

You handed over the thick envelope, Jonas eagerly ripping into it, making you laugh softly.

“Oh shit, you’re the best,” Jonas gasped.

“And don’t you forget it,” you teased.

“What did you get?” Nico asked, curious.

“A tattoo voucher. Far more than enough to cover the gap fillers I’ve been looking at getting. This is amazing, thank you, this is way too generous,” Jonas explained, looking gratefully at you.

“You’re welcome. I know you’ve been talking about filling the spaces for a while,” you shrugged.

While you didn’t have any tattoos of your own, you knew how Nico and Jonas felt about their own tattoos, and how much they meant to them – it was an easy decision.

“Are we ever going to get you into a tattoo chair, hm?” Nico teased.

“Maybe if I have someone holding my hand,” you teased back, trying to fight the giddy heat rising to your cheeks.

His lips parted slightly in shock, speechless for once, Jonas just cackling at his response.

“And on that note, I’m going to go say hi to Andreas and Julia. See you both later?” you grinned.

“Yeah, see you liebling,” Jonas nodded.

Nico just nodded, cheeks aflame. His silence was a bit concerning – he wasn’t exactly one to be shy or awkward, especially not around you – but you knew Jonas would figure out whatever was going on with him. Hopefully.

“So that was smooth,” Jonas mused.

“Shut up,” Nico groaned.

“No really, that was one of your best efforts,” Jonas snickered.

“You’re the worst,” Nico shot back.

He ran a hand through his hair, watching you walk across the backyard with a confidence he wished he had. There was just something about you that had always reduced him to feeling like a hapless fool, ever since he’d first moved to Bern as a teenager and met you within the first few weeks of living there. You’d been a constant feature in his life for 10 years now, always there with a wide smile and open arms whether it was in Bern, Zurich, or New Jersey, and he didn’t know what he would do with his life if you weren’t in it.

Nico was head over heels in love with you, and you had no idea.

Everyone else in his life knew how he felt for you, obviously, not just Jonas. His parents, his siblings, even Jack had figured it out within an hour of your first visit to New Jersey all those years ago. If Jack Hughes of all people could read it off his face then he didn’t know how much more obvious he could be – other than actually telling you with words, of course.

But how could he say anything to you, when he knew for certain that you didn’t feel the same way?

“Are you sure your billet family don’t mind us being down here?”

Nico smiled down at you, shaking his head. The two of you were down in the basement where his billet family’s entertainment room was, the rest of the house having gone out for the night, and Nico had invited you round for a movie night. He’d only been in Bern for a few weeks, and you were the only non-hockey friend he’d made so far, so he hadn’t hesitated to invite you over to get to know you better.

There was just something about you that made him want to put in the effort

“They really don’t mind. They even left us money for takeout,” he insisted.

“Oh, well alright then. What are we watching first?”

The evening flew by, pizza ravenously consumed between movies, the two of you shifting closer and closer on the sofa until you were fully leaning up against each other, Nico’s hockey bulk giving you a solid pillow to rest on. He didn’t mind it at all, if he was being honest with himself, although he wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

“That was so terrible though! They had no chemistry at all!” you giggled as the credits rolled.

“I guess not all actors are going to like kissing everyone they work with,” Nico snickered.

Even in the dim light of the room, he noticed the heat that rushed to your cheeks.

“What?” Nico frowned.

“It’s nothing,” you said, shaking your head quickly.

He might not know you that well yet, but he knew that was a lie.

“Come on, tell me what’s wrong?” he prompted.

“You’re going to think I’m stupid.”

“We’re 15 years old – everything we do is stupid,” Nico pointed out.

You huffed out a laugh, breath a little shaky. “I was just thinking about the fact that I wouldn’t know what it was like.”

“What what was like?” Nico asked, confused.

“To kiss someone,” you all but whispered.

His lips parted in surprise, not expecting those words to fall from your lips, and you immediately grimaced.

“See I told you it was stupid,” you groaned.

As you shifted to move away from him, Nico instinctively gripped your shoulder, not letting you go. You startled but looked up at him, staying silent in confusion.

“It’s not stupid. Not everyone has had their first kiss. You’re only 15,” he murmured.

“You’ve kissed someone though?”

Nico bit his bottom lip but nodded. He’d had multiple kisses, all harmless, all essentially meaningless, he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Kissing was fun – he always liked the way it made his heart race with adrenaline.

And it was the memory of that feeling that fuelled his bravery.

“I could kiss you, if you want?”

“What?”

He took a steadying breath, before nodding. “I could kiss you. So you have a good first kiss, with a friend.”

There was nothing worse than doing something scary for the first time only to have someone make you feel like an idiot. If Nico could stop that feeling for you, then he absolutely would.

“Are you sure?” you said hesitantly, “You really don’t have to.”

“Of course I am,” he said, smiling to reassure you.

He could feel how fast your heart was beating as he rested a hand on the side of your neck, echoing the beating of his own heart. You closed your eyes as he leaned down towards you, making him smile slightly before he pressed his lips to yours. As he slowly kissed you, he could feel how hesitant and nervous you were, but as you continued to kiss him back he didn’t regret his offer for a moment. Nico kissed you over and over and over again, almost feeling dizzy with how the embrace was consuming him, his thumb stroking over your jaw as you melted into his arms. This was heaven. This was bliss. This was everything he didn’t realise he’d wanted.

After what felt like hours, but could only have been a few moments, you pulled away from the kiss. Nico made a soft noise of protest, opening his eyes to see you looking stunned, lips as swollen as his felt.

“Schatzi,” he managed to murmur.

You just bit your bottom lip, smiling softly, before leaning backwards out of his hands. He tried not to frown, not understanding why his heart was pounding, even though you didn’t look mad.

“I should probably get home. My parents will be wondering where I am by now,” you said, voice quiet, almost as if you were still a little in shock.

Nico glanced at the clock on the wall, grimacing at the late hour. Where had the time gone? Did you really have to leave, after a kiss like that?

“O-Okay, if you’re sure. Text me when you get back safe?”

“I will. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

After that kiss 10 years ago, the two of you had never spoken about it again. The morning after you’d acted like nothing had ever happened, and Nico had been too nervous to say anything to risk losing the blossoming friendship. He knew now that it was his first experience of heartbreak, as youthful and innocent as that had been – and he also knew that’s when he’d first started having feelings for you. What was meant to have been a friend helping out another friend had started a decade of unrequited feelings, and it was far too late for him to say anything now.

He could only hold on to the incredible friendship that had grown between the two of you with both hands. If this was all he could ever have then he was going to cherish it, no matter how what Jonas said.

“Come on bud, let’s get you a drink,” Jonas said, smiling sadly.

Nico huffed out a laugh but nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m going to need one.”

Hours passed by, drinking, eating, catching up with friends and making new ones, until the evening was late and only the last few straggling partygoers were making their way out of the house. You’d volunteered to start cleaning up while Jonas said goodbye to his guests, needing something to do after a long day of socialising. You were making good progress on cleaning up the empty food containers and empty drink bottles when Nico wandered into the living room, holding out a bottle of water for you.

“Looks like thirsty work,” he grinned, leaning against the arm of the sofa.

“Thanks, you should try it some time,” you teased, taking the bottle from him.

You unscrewed the cap and took a couple of long gulps with your head tilted back, needing the refreshment more than you thought, but when you put the cap back on the bottle, you noticed Nico staring at you transfixed.

“What?” you frowned, “Did I spill some water?”

“No, no, it isn’t that,” he said quickly, cheeks heating.

Why was he blushing? What was going through his mind?

“Then what is it?” you prompted, putting the bottle down on the table.

“It’s just…I was thinking about…well…”

“Yes?” you prompted again, a soft smile on your face at his awkwardness.

“It wouldn’t take a tattoo for me to hold your hand,” he blurted out.

“What?”

What was he talking about…oh. Oh. What?

“Wait, shit, no, that came out wrong…”

Nico trailed off with a groan, punctuated only by the sound of a snort. You whirled around to see Jonas standing in the doorway, and he cackled at the look on both your faces.

“Yeah I’m going upstairs. Have fun dealing with your years of feelings,” Jonas grinned, shaking his head.

Oh damn. Jonas knew?

Wait, years of feelings?

With that he left you and Nico alone, a murmur suspiciously sounding like ‘lovestruck idiots’ lingering behind him. Hesitantly you looked back at Nico to see his face full of embarrassment, cheeks tinged with red.

“What was Jonas talking about?” you asked, voice a little shaky.

Because you were damn sure that Jonas didn’t know a thing about how you felt for Nico. So he had to be talking about Nico…which only succeeded in sending your heart into a flutter.

“This was not how I wanted it all to come out,” he murmured.

“Nico, please. No more talking in circles,” you all but begged.

He inhaled shakily but nodded, finally looking you in the eyes once more. “I’ve loved you ever since the movie night where we kissed.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “That was 10 years ago, Nico. We were 15! You’ve loved me since then?”

Ten long years.

“I know,” he winced, “But yes, since then.”

“You never said anything?” you said hesitantly.

Not about the kiss, and not about his feelings.

“You didn’t either? I mean, like, we never talked about the kiss. At all. I just assumed you didn’t say anything because you regretted it, and there was no way I wanted to lose you as a friend,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Of all the things he could’ve said.

“I thought you regretted it,” you admitted, “You were this up-and-coming hockey star, and I was just the neighbour down the street.”

Nico burst out laughing, hands rising to cover his face briefly.

“We’re both idiots,” he managed to choke out between laughs, “maybe me more than you.”

Maybe.

Maybe you both were idiots, but that didn’t mean you had to waste any more time. If Nico really wanted to try being more than friends, you weren’t about to stop him.

“Hey Nico?” you said, reaching forward to place a hand on his chest.

You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the rapid beat of his heart, but it was the hope in his eyes that gave you courage.

“Yes, schatzi?”

“It’s been a long ten years…kiss me again?”

Nico’s only response was to do as you’d asked.

I’m sitting patiently, Hoping for the day to come where you can see, All the stars, they fall in line for you and me, I can’t wait for you to see too, yes, you’ll do.

#my writing #nico hischier fic #the summer fic exchange 2k24 #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fanfic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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dreamwritesimagines · 7 months ago

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The Eye of the Hurricane [21] - Heirs

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Calmness is a facade.

Word Count: 2500

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

“I can’t believe I have nothing to wear.”

“You do realize that you’re standing in a dressing room with - I don’t know, a thousand dresses surrounding you?”

You threw your head back before turning to look at Bucky who was still in bed, with his back against the fluffy pillows while he read something on his phone.

“Well fine, I have nothing to wear for tonight!” you said. “Not that I give a shit about this dinner, but a bunch of people will be there, so I can’t just show up in anything.”

“Why didn’t you buy something beforehand?”

“Becca offered to take me shopping but I said no.”

He looked up from his phone, a worried expression crossing his handsome features.

“Charm,” he said. “Come here.”

You tilted your head. “Why?”

“I’ll feel your forehead, are you sick?”

You rolled your eyes at him and turned back to shuffle through the hangers again while he chuckled.

“I just have other stuff in mind,” you muttered. “Like how my father has been involving Ian more in the business ever since I had that meeting with Steve.”

“It doesn’t matter how much he tries to involve him, no one takes Ian seriously.”

“No one takes me seriously either.”

“People take you seriously,” he told you and you bit inside your cheek, then stepped out of the dressing room to lean back on the frame.

“Did Clifford say anything?” you asked. “Was it HYDRA or just him?”

“Looks like just him,” Bucky said. “I’m glad you brought it up by the way, because I have a question.”

You hummed as he sat up straighter in bed and you tried not to gawk at his muscular chest. The prick was used to sleeping half naked, -a human furnace, as much as you could tell- so every single morning and night you had to remind yourself that it was just a business deal, and you weren’t supposed to ogle business deals and their sculpted bodies.

As hot as they were.

“Why did you let me know?”

“He would’ve shot you otherwise.”

“I thought you’d want that.”

You made a face. “Of course I would not, you idiot.”

Bucky raised his brows before lifting your pillow to show you the small knife you had under it, and before you could protest, he lifted his own pillow so that you could see his own knife under it. You shrugged your shoulders.

“That doesn’t mean anything!” you exclaimed. “Other than the fact that we’re a cautious couple. Mine is there just in case.”

“In case you want to stab me in my sleep?”

“In case anyone wants to stab us in our sleep,” you said, your face burning. “Why is yours there?”

“A habit at this point.” he admitted. “Same with the guns under the bed.”

“Ah, I almost forgot about them,” you mused and he tilted his head.

“So you don’t want me killed?”

“No, I’d have to wear black.”

He blinked a couple of times. “Sorry?”

“I can’t pull off black dresses, ask Becca.”

He heaved a sigh. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Charm.”

You let out a small laugh.

“I happen to think we make a good team,” you said, leaning on your hip and a smile curled his lips, making you narrow your eyes at him.

“If you make an innuendo Bucky, I swear—”

“I won’t,” he said, holding up his hands. “I promise. So you didn’t let them shoot me because we make a good team?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “That’s one of the contributing factors.”

“What are the other factors?” he asked, hope shining in his blue eyes and you arched a brow.

“My carnal desires for you,” you deadpanned with the most monotone voice you could muster. “Take me Bucky. Rip off my clothes and claim me right here right now like you’re a knight and I’m a princess and we've been yearning for each other despite our kingdoms being enemies.”

“Incredibly seductive,” he pointed out. “Does your dirty talk always include historical tropes?”

“Yeah, always,” you said and turned around to shuffle through the hangers again, pulling out a dress only to toss it aside. You could hear his chuckle and you bit back a smile, frowning at yourself.

“No seriously,” he said and you grinned.

“My dirty talk sometimes also includes—”

“No not that,” he cut you off. “What’s the other contributing factor?”

You clicked your tongue, making yourself busy with yet another dress. The truthful response would be that you had grown quite fond of his presence against your better judgement, but there was no way you could tell him that.

This was a business deal, nothing more.

“Why do you want to know?” you asked back before stepping out of the dressing room to hold the dress over your body. “Is this pretty?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t even look at it!”

“You’ll look gorgeous no matter what you wear,” he stated as if it was the absolute truth and you pulled back slightly, narrowing your eyes to see whether he was joking but he looked very genuine. “You do realize that if they killed me, you’d have the right to—”

“To take over your family business and become the boss yes,” you said. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t want to be just another boss in this town, I want the business with my last name on it.”

“But does it matter?”

“It does,” you said. “Ian is the one who wants power and power only. I need the legacy as well, and I need—” you paused for a moment, shaking your head. “I need it to be mine.”

He offered you a soft smile.

“What’s mine is yours, Charm.”

A warmth spread through your chest, sending a pleasant tingling underneath your skin and you stared at him for a couple of seconds in complete silence before biting back a smile and turning around to walk back into the dressing room.

“Fine,” you said. “This dress it is.”

Neither you nor Bucky were strangers to being dragged to a dinner with other families once in every three months but this was the first time you and he were attending it with the rest of the families. This was also the first time you were sitting at the Barnes table rather than your father’s, and you tried not to go over to your father’s table to hear what he and Ian were talking about.

You and Becca never sat at your own tables anyway, but it was still quite symbolic.

George and Winnifred seemed to have moved past the argument from earlier, and Bucky played along even if you weren’t ready to do the same yet so you, Becca and Sarah went by the bar after the food was served and you’d had your dinner.

“Y/N?”

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at Sarah. “Hm?”

“Stop worrying about that,” she told you with a nod to your father’s table and you took a sip of your wine before looking around the room. Bucky was by the corner, talking to Sam and Steve while Natasha and Tony seemed to be in a deep discussion by Clint’s table.

“I’m not,” you lied through your teeth as you stole a look Ian who motioned at Ryan to come closer, then muttered something to him to make him nod. “I’m just…he’s still angry at me for trying to get involved.”

“Well, good thing there’s nothing he can do about it,” Becca said and you huffed out, motioning at the bartender for another cocktail.

“He barely said hi to me.”

“Well, your father is dramatic and so is mine,” Becca stated. “We’re used to that.”

“What did Bucky do with the guy who tried to shoot him?” Sarah asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Killed him,” you said. “After he made sure to get as much information as possible.”

“Not HYDRA?” Becca asked with her brows furrowed and you shook your head.

“No,” you said. “Doesn’t seem like it at least.”

“I don’t buy it,” Sarah said. “It has to be related.”

“Well if he was an agent of HYDRA, he took it to his grave,” you muttered when the bartender put your drink in front of you. “But I agree. Especially lately, they’re attacking everywhere and everyone.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh, desserts!” Becca said as she caught the sight of waiters walking around the tables. “Let’s have dessert! Sarah?”

“I have to talk to Sam but I’ll drop by your table,” she said and you nodded, then walked with Becca to the Barnes table, still holding your drink. Bucky turned his head when he saw you out of the corner of his eye, then made his way to your table and sat down right beside you.

“Everything alright?” George asked him and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What were you guys talking about?” you asked him quietly and Bucky heaved a sigh.

“Well, I need to find another person for the shipment issue after…you know?”

“Killing the guy?” Becca said helpfully and Bucky nodded.

“Sam does have a candidate in mind.”

“Who?”

“A new player,” Bucky said. “She’s supposed to be incredibly good at what she does, Sam is very impressed by her.”

“And her background?”

“Has been checked three times,” Bucky said and you all turned your heads when the chatter among the restaurant ceased and you raised your brows when you saw your father standing up.

“What’s going on?” you asked Bucky who shook his head.

“I have no idea,” he muttered and your father cleared his throat, then smiled at the completely quiet restaurant.

“Hello everyone,” he said. “I know that we’re all enjoying our desserts and drinks, but now that everyone is here, I’d like to make a short speech. Not to worry, I’m not going to take too much of your time, the dessert looks too good for that.”

Polite chuckles rose from different tables and your father heaved a sigh while Bucky reached out to squeeze your hand with his vibranium one, as if sensing your sudden discomfort.

“I find myself treasuring these quarterly dinners as I grow older,” he said. “Getting old in our line of work is a privilege, which…George agrees with me I’m sure.”

George chuckled. “Still younger than you Arthur!”

Your father waved a hand in the air while people laughed.

“I do hope that everyone in this restaurant gets to have this privilege,” he said. “And I must admit, I’m not ready to retire like George even though he is younger than me,” he said with a grin, coaxing chuckles out of people again. “There’s no harm in thinking about the future.”

You blinked a couple of times while Bucky sat up straighter, his body high on alert. Your father’s gaze fell on you and he swallowed thickly, then turned to the rest of the people in the room.

“That’s why I’m very happy to put some rumors to rest and announce that I chose Ian as my heir.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you let out a breath, gawking at him. Becca gasped beside you while most of the restaurant started clapping and Bucky squeezed your hand again before leaning in.

“Calm down,” he murmured to you. “It’s fine Charm, we already have a plan. This changes nothing.”

You were trying so hard to keep your expression calm that you had to bite at your tongue to focus. The rage shot through you like lightning, a hot tingling spreading from the top of your head down to your fingertips and you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to take a breath through your nose. You could see that Steve, Sam, Natasha and Clint were among those who weren’t clapping for Ian, and Ryan shot you an apologetic smile while Ian stood up, your father patting him on the back.

Calm.

You had to stay calm.

“Thank you, uncle,” he said with a proud smile on his face before turning to the crowd. “Well I won’t keep you guys long either, don’t worry.”

You dug your fingernails into your palm, trying to swallow the lump in your throat while keeping your gaze on him.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Ian said. “To my uncle, who has been a father to me for the majority of my life, who has guided me and taught me everything. I will not fail you.”

Breathe.

In and out.

“And of course, to Y/N,” Ian turned to you. “My dearest cousin who chose love as her path rather than business. I hope that both of us will be very happy with our choices and responsibilities.”

Motherfucker.

It was a well-crafted lie, you had to admit, so much that you couldn’t even make sure that Ian had come up with it. Not only was he taunting you, but he was also doing it in a way that every single boss, every single player in this restaurant would think you were just a love-struck girl who wasn’t interested in the business.

Just another mob wife.

“And I’d like to hear what she has to say,” Ian said, smiling at you. “Y/N?”

Bucky looked like he was two seconds away from pulling out his gun but you took a shaky breath, then stood up and forced yourself to smile at the room while Ian sat down.

“Well I guess you have no excuse left Ian, we need to teach you how to fight,” you told him, drawing out chuckles from around the room and Ian’s smile faltered for a moment before he raised his glass at you.

“Um…” you gulped down and stole a look at your father. “I think I was ten when I realized that I actually wasn’t the firstborn, the business was. Me and Becca used to joke about it.”

Bucky drummed his fingertips on the table.

“And my mom used to say that when you’re a good parent, you want your children to do better than you,” you said, making your father swallow thickly. “That’s the ultimate goal, she would say. Happier, more successful, you name it. She would say that’s the thing that would make a parent most proud.”

Ian narrowed his eyes, looking between your father and you, and you grabbed your glass to raise it.

“So, father,” you said, looking him dead in the eye. “I’m very sure that the person who takes over will be so successful that the only thing everyone will talk about is how much better it got after you.”

Sarah leaned her fist on her lips to hide her laugh while your father stared at you, then nodded slowly, gritting his teeth before smiling at you.

“Enjoy the dessert!” you told the room and people clapped as you sat down. Bucky was still glaring daggers at your father and you took a huge sip of your drink while Becca leaned in closer to you.

“Let the war begin, I guess?” she murmured and you let out a breath, then clicked your tongue.

“Yeah,” you muttered as you shot your father a calm smile. “Let the war begin.”

Chapter 22

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hedwig221b · 6 months ago

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Hi could u pls suggest a pic where derek or Stiles gets injured and the other takes care of them?

Ah, yes, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, the top tier duo...

Holy Injuries, Batman! by LadyDrace

Stiles gets hurt. Badly. Getting better turns out to be more of a process than anyone expected, and there are a few surprises along the way.

Leave It All Behind by asarcasticwitch

A coil of panic tightens in his chest as, after just three short rings, Derek’s voice—raspy as if barely awake—echoes through the speaker. “Do you know what time it is?” he grumbles, and at any other time, Stiles would’ve made a joke or retorted with something so sarcastic it would’ve undoubtedly earned him a huff in return. But right now, he can’t think of anything to say.

Our Days Are Numbered by tylerfucklin

They didn't know, not until it was too late. The damage was done; the scars and broken bones made, and the nightmares endless. No amount of corrective surgeries and physical therapy would take away what had happened to Stiles that day.

Beltane by DevilDoll

"Watching Stiles heal someone has always been a little uncomfortable for Derek, like he's seeing something intimate and private that shouldn't have an audience. That's nothing compared to how it feels." This is an AU in which Stiles has magical healing powers.

The Bite by LeeHan

The first time Stiles was offered the bite, he said no, but the universe only gave him the courtesy of asking so many times. When the inevitability of the bite catches up with him, Stiles has to face his new nature. Luckily, he has Derek by his side every step of the way.

Surrounded and up against a wall, I’ll shred ‘em all (and go with you) by Gorgeousgreymatter

Stiles hates hospitals. He’s always hated hospitals. Well, not always (who likes them, anyway?), but since her. Since before -- and now just the thought of them makes him want to retch, gives him that crawling-out-his-skin feeling that makes him want to peel it all off with his fingernails. Which he should really stop biting, he muses, wincing as he tears a hangnail off with a rabid flash of teeth.

Although, technically this wasn’t exactly a hospital. Not for humans anyway. But whatever, Stiles thinks, veterinary hospitals still counted. At least as long as Derek was in that back room screaming like he’s dying, because maybe he is.

This is Ridiculous by zosofi

There's a unicorn in Beacon Hills. A fricken' unicorn. In fricken' Beacon Hills, California. And it turns out that unicorns aren't drawn towards virgins in a happy-go-lucky let-me-lay-my-not-at-all-metaphorical-horn-in-your-lap way. No. They kill them. And guess who's the only virgin idiotic enough to get sucked into the Beacon Hills supernatural scene? Stiles, that's who.

I will stand with you by Taigrin

John Stilinski comes home to find Stiles and Derek passed out on the couch pretty much after telling his son to stay away from the werewolf.

Or the one with family Stilinski feels mixed up with angst and a hurt alfa.

Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

#sterek #sterek fic #stiles x derek #eternal sterek #sterek fanfic #stiles stilinski #derek hale #derek x stiles #sterek fanfiction #sterek fic rec #sterek ao3 #sterek au #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fic #teen wolf au #teen wolf fic rec #hedwig221b replies

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cherryflavoured7777 · 1 year ago

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Do you miss me, dear? [h.c]

Summary: Stuck at a graduation party, surrounded by memories of your past relationship and your own loneliness, your night takes an unexpected turn when you find yourself dialing the number of the one person you vowed you wouldn't contact.

Pairing: College!Hazel x College!Fem!Reader

Contains: smut 18+ only, explicit language, drinking, smoking, mutual pining, slightly toxic reader I think, fingering (r! receiving), oral(r! receiving), break-up/make-up sex, idiots in love, this one gets straight-up MUSHY I’m not gonna lie

Word count: 4.1k

a/n: I just need to say I am deeply obsessed with all of you who interacted with either of my last two fics. reading your comments/ replies seriously makes me SO happy you have no idea. Got me giggling and shit fr! I don’t know why my writing always ends up including partying and drinking but maybe it’s because I just graduated college and am having an existential post-grad crisis. Anyway 💀I hope you enjoy and thank you again for reading!!!

Also, this is inspired by this song by one of my favourite bands:

“I don’t know what I’m still doing here.” You say out loud to yourself, standing up from the musty green couch you were sitting on. An empty beer bottle falls from the cushion onto the ground, shattering into pieces beside your foot.

This party sucked. Pushing your way through the crowded, stuffy kitchen, you couldn't shake off the feeling of suffocation. Tipsy couples entangled in each other's arms seemed to be everywhere, a painful reminder of what you once had and lost. The memories of being that annoying person in love at a party flooded back, amplifying the ache of your loneliness.

The thumping music in your ears only made your head pound harder. Desperate for a breath of fresh air, you stumbled toward the door, ignoring the intoxicated laughter and clinking glasses that filled the air. As you stepped outside, the cool night breeze hit your face, offering a momentary rescue from the overwhelming atmosphere inside.

The darkness of the night sky above seemed to swallow you whole, but it felt strangely comforting. Leaning against the porch railing, you closed your eyes, trying to regain your composure. In the silence outside, you could hear distant laughter and the faint sound of music, muffled by the walls of the house.

You settled into a seat around a glass table, next to a guy you recognized from one of your classes. You exchanged a quick nod of acknowledgment before reaching into your purse, retrieving a box of cigarettes. Smoking was not a regular habit for you, but you reserved it for moments like these—after a few drinks and a growing sense of irritation.

You lit the end of the cigarette, watching it crackle, and took a long drag. As you exhaled the smoke, you tilted your head back, noticing the full moon glowing brightly above.

"Full moon tonight," the boy beside you remarked, his voice carrying a note of intrigue. "They say some crazy shit can happen on full moons."

You chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, well, that could explain why I'm stuck at this party right now."

He leaned back, studying you intently.

“I wish I could be an astronaut and get the fuck out of here.” You mused, gaze fixed on the bright glow of the moon. "I only came to this party because she said she would be here." Another drag of the cigarette punctuated your words.

"Who's she?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"My ex," you replied, trying to seem nonchalant. His gaze was fixed on you, "Hazel."

Until today, you hadn't spoken to Hazel in over three months, choosing to cut off all contact in an attempt to speed up the process of moving on. You're both surprised that you managed to endure the silence for so long, and disappointed that she hasn't made any effort to reach out, not even once.

That was until about six hours ago when you were sitting at a coffee shop on campus with your roommate, Brittany, studying for your upcoming statistics exam.

"Don't look now, but Hazel just walked in," she whispers, her tone hushed, and her eyes widening. "And she's with another girl."

Your heart plummeted into your stomach. You were seated with your back to the door, and you watched as they both approached the corner, heading in your direction.

"Brittany!" the blonde girl accompanying Hazel exclaims, leaving the three of you momentarily stunned.

Hazel follows a few steps behind, clearly taken aback by the encounter. She looked annoyingly hot, her disheveled brown hair, baggy white t-shirt and black jeans, adorned with her signature silver chains and rings. It takes all your strength not to stare.

"Hey, Amanda," Brittany replied, forcing a polite smile. "Hazel."

Hazel offers a nod in greeting to Brittany and then to you. You feel like a middle-schooler again, awkward and unsure of how to act around your crush.

"Did you manage to finish that paper for Professor Sharpe's class?" the girl asked.

As Brittany carries on the conversation with Amanda, you can feel Hazel's gaze on you, catching her eyes occasionally.

You never anticipated the aftermath of your breakup with Hazel to be this awkward. All those nights spent tangled up together, where you both believed you could read each other's minds, now reduced to this.

"So, Hazel, are you going to Emma’s graduation party tonight? All of us are going," Brittany chimed in, attempting to steer the conversation away from the obvious tension.

Hazel smiled sheepishly, replying, "Yeah, I’m going."

"Cool," Brittany replied, her smile masking the underlying awkwardness in the air.

A beat of uncomfortable silence hung between you all.

"Will you be there?" Hazel asked breaking the silence, turning toward you, her voice almost hesitant.

"Yeah, I'll be there," you said, mustering a small smile. "Wouldn’t want to miss it."

Hazel smiled, "Cool," she said, her voice soft, "I'll see you there then."

Just as the atmosphere began to ease, Amanda abruptly intervened, her grip firm on Hazel's hand. "Hazel, let’s go, I forgot something in my car," Amanda said, her tone strangely possessive, and she dragged Hazel away before you could utter another word.

This breadcrumb of information has led you here. You spent the first fifteen minutes at the party searching for her like a lost puppy. When you couldn't find her, you contemplated leaving but opted to drown your thoughts with tequila shots instead. Now, you're clinging to any scrap of attention you can find, desperately trying to purge her from your mind.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the male voice beside you. "D’you have a light?" he asked, his cigarette aimed in your direction. You stare at him for a moment, deadpan, still frozen in your thoughts from the events that unfolded earlier today.

"Fuck it," you muttered under your breath, reaching for your phone. You’re calling her.

“You’re soaked,” Hazel says as you climb into the front seat of her car, her tone a mix of concern and annoyance. “Seriously, you’re getting mud all over the floor of my car.” While you were waiting for Hazel to pick you up from the party, It started raining, you thought enduring it outside would be better than being stuffed in that small house full of people you didn't even really know.

“You lied.” You retort back.

“What?”

“You said you were coming to the party.”

“Yeah well, my plans changed. Put your seatbelt on.” As she shifted the car into reverse, she placed her hand on your seat to steady herself. With a quick glance over your shoulder, she backed out of the driveway in one brisk movement.

You attempted to keep your composure, trying not to make it entirely obvious that you were basically drooling over how hot she looked doing that.

“I can tell that there’s someone else,” You say after a few moments of silence, trying to disguise your jealousy with innocent curiosity. “Come on, tell me,” You finally click your seatbelt into place. “I can take it well.”

"Oh, I know you can," she replied, shooting you a smug look, trying to divert this conversation from getting too deep right now.

“Hazel.” You groan at her dumb attempt at an innuendo, throwing your head backward and hitting the headrest. “Just be honest. Is it the girl from the coffee shop earlier? Or what about the girl Isabel saw you with last week at the library? Or both? Who am I kidding, there’s probably even more than that.”

“Do you have like, personal spies assigned to watch over me?”

You don’t respond right away, deciding to avoid her questions like she’s avoiding yours. You crank the window open and throw your head out. The spring wind cool on your face.

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

Look, I know I wasn't where I said I'd be, but I was busy, doing stuff," she replied defensively.

"Yeah," you scoffed, your words tinged with a hint of anger. "I'm sure you were."

You sit the next few minutes in silence, wondering if this whole thing was a bad idea. You couldn't pinpoint why you had called her in the first place. The intensity of seeing her earlier mixed with the disappointment of the lackluster party had left you missing her, even though you weren't entirely sure why.

"So, where am I taking you?" Hazel asked, her gaze shifting from the road to you. Strands of her brown hair were tousled by the wind.

Your buzz had faded, and with it, your initial courage waned. Swallowing hard, you hesitated before speaking. "Can I sleep at yours? Not— not like that," you hurriedly clarified, feeling a sudden need to explain. "It's just that Brittany has her new boyfriend over, and I could go back there, but I don’t really want to."

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

After a moment, Hazel hesitantly rested her hand on your thigh, both of you aware of the significance of the touch, even if neither acknowledged it. Her fingers gave a gentle squeeze, the subtle pressure made your tummy flip. Beneath the surface, an unspoken understanding lingered, hinting that this night might entail more than just a ride home.

Hazel's apartment is full of brown moving boxes, an aching reminder of why you broke up in the first place.

“Wow, this place is pretty much all packed up.” You say, slowly walking through the place, eventually landing at the doorway into her bedroom.

She nods in response, her face reflecting a mixture of anticipation and sadness, settling down at the end of her bed.

"So, when do you leave?" The question weighed heavily on your heart as you voiced it. You wished you didn't have to ask these questions, yearning for a time when you were part of her plans, not just a spectator.

“Two weeks. My Aunt is gonna meet me at JFK and help me move into my new place.”

You sighed, feeling brave, "I wish I had the date circled on my calendar, helping you move, or going with you." You say the last part quiet, mostly to yourself.

The conversation lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

You walked over to her dresser, where a mirror was propped up, decorated with photos of you two from a photobooth, still clinging to the glass. Your heart swelled with mixed emotions.

Hazel says your name, breaking you from your trance.

“Come here,” she says.

You walk over slowly, standing between her legs. Your hands rest on her shoulders and you take a deep breath.

With both of your gazes locked, her hands came up behind your thighs, gently grabbing them and pulling them on either side of her one by one so you’re straddling her. Her hand comes up to brush a piece of hair from your face.

“You’re so beautiful, baby” Her voice is barely a whisper as she stares up at you, her eyes practically shimmering with your reflection, Her hands settle on your waist, the warmth of her touch sending a pang of guilt through you. This breakup was unlike any you'd experienced before, and the raw emotions lingered, making you hesitate for a moment.

Your hands move up to cradle her face, your thumb dragging on her bottom lip. Still maintaining intense eye contact, you slowly slip your finger into her mouth, watching her with a mix of awe and longing.

The silence as you stare at each other is anything but awkward. It was charged with the weight of shared mourning, each of you navigating the complexity of a relationship's end.

You removed your finger, and in response, she grabbed your head gently, guiding it down towards her face, her eyes locked onto yours. Your lips barely grazed each other, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear your rapid heartbeat. Hazel kissed you slowly at first, the touch of her lips sending a rush through your entire body. It quickly escalated, and there was a certain neediness to the way you both kissed, scared it could be the last time.

"Missed you," She whispered against your lips. Your mouths slid together, tongues pressing and exploring. The intensity of the kiss speaks volumes, like you were making up for lost time. Her lips found their way to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, lingering kisses, setting your body on fire.

“Fuck, Hazel.” It was almost embarrassing how quickly you melted beneath her touch. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” You say, your voice strained, a soft moan escaping your lips. You very much wanted to be doing this, you just thought you should at least try to seem like you had stronger breakup morals than you did. Her hands found the curve of your ass, and you instinctively started to rock your hips slowly back and forth, seeking some much-needed friction.

"Do you want me to stop? Say the word, and I'll stop, pretty girl," she murmured against your neck, her open-mouthed kisses and gentle suction on your pulse point sending shivers down your spine. You didn't reply with words, but your fingers found her hair, silently urging her to continue. "I need an answer, babygirl,"

"Don't stop," you breathed, your voice catching in your throat. "Please, don't stop." Your hips still lazily moving on her. Her mouth was back on yours, deepening the kiss as she guided you both down, her hands roaming over the back of your legs and your ass. She tugged at the hem of your shirt, helping you out of it and leaving you in your black lace bra.

"So fucking perfect. Missed you so fucking much," she confessed,

"I missed you too, Haze, every day," you whined,

"You ever think about me? she asked, breathless. "About this?" she continued

You nodded, your breath hitching as you confessed, "All the time. Couldn't stop thinking about you, your hands, your mouth."

Her eyes darken as you sit up and effortlessly unhook your bra, leaning back down, your lips finding their way to her collarbone, marking a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin. Your hands slowly creep their way up under her shirt, seeking permission. She nods, a silent affirmation, and you gently peel her shirt off over her head. Your stomach flips as you feel her arms effortlessly turn both of you over, trading places, landing on your back as she hovers over you. Her silver chain dangling above your face. It felt like your first time all over again, you felt a sense of shyness creeping over you under her gaze. Anticipation and excitement blooming in your chest.

“Fuck, look at you.” She says. The way she’s studying you makes you feel like the most beautiful thing to ever exist, as if every curve of your body is a masterpiece deserving of praise. Unable to contain your impatience, you pull her head down to meet your lips, your hips instinctively bucking up, frustration showing in the heated moment. Her fingers start to trail downwards under your skirt, meeting your clothed cunt. “You want me to fuck you? Hm?” She whispers in your ear, “Is that what you want baby?” She taunts, her fingers slowly grazing over your underwear.

You nod vigorously, your enthusiasm evident. She responds by sucking on your neck again, sending shivers down your spine, your face flushed with heat. Your hands instinctively tug at her hair.

“Yes, Haze, please, fuck.” You arch your neck, pressing it firmly into the softness of the pillow beneath, a small gasp escaping your lips as you surrender to the moment. “Want your fingers inside of me.”

She makes a noise of desperation, her warm breath fanning over your face. “Gonna make you feel so good baby” She moves your underwear to the side, running her fingers through your slick folds. You gasp and she groans. “Wanna make it up to you.”

She tugs at the waistband of your skirt. You lift your hips as she guides it down along with your underwear. Hazel curses under her breath, “You’re so wet, it’s so fucking hot.” She plants kisses all over your chest, each one feeling like it could set you on fire.

She slowly fucks you with her middle finger, the touch leaving you reeling. She adds her ring finger, her free hand snaking under your neck. Her fingers gently grab the side of your face while she fucks you, slightly tugging and grazing them against your parted lips. It's an intimate gesture, conveying both tenderness and desire.

Your hips buck up to meet her fingers. “Holy fuck” you groan as she pumps them faster into you. “Like that,” your voice is completely shot. Your entire body fizzed from the contact. You gently bite down on her fingers near your mouth while she places kisses all over your cheeks and your lips. Your head spun with thoughts of her - her mouth, her hair, her scent, Hazel was everywhere, all-encompassing.

“Fuck, you’re so good” She half slurs, her voice wrecked, pupils blown and her lips parted. “So good for me.” She whispers, keeping her pace, dragging her digits through the wetness at your core.

Her mouth makes its way down your body, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses until she’s on her stomach between your thighs. Pumping faster, her lips suck at your clit. Her other hand presses down on your abdomen, holding you in place. You cup your aching tits, feeling them move with every motion she makes.

“Hazel,” you whine, “Haze, I-” Her fingers pick up the pace, curling inside of you. You tread your fingers through her hair, tugging slightly, the coil in your tummy growing tighter and tighter.

“I know, honey, I know,” She says in response to your moans. “You sound so pretty baby, missed those sounds so much.” She keeps babbling, telling you how good you are and how pretty you look for her.

“Fuck, don’t stop” you moan as she continues fucking you with her mouth and fingers, her pace alternating between teasing and fast, pushing you toward the edge. The contrast in her movements intensifies the pleasure, almost giving you want you want but flaking at the last moment, it’s torture.

“Shit, you’re almost there sweetheart” Hazel swears under her breath, voice laced with her own arousal. Her words drive you closer to the edge. You swear you can see stars as the overwhelming feeling shocks through your body. Your heart rate picks up immensley, pounding in your chest.

“Gonna come for me baby, yeah?” “Want you to come all over these fingers.”

And you did. Your body clenches around her fingers, trembling, moans and curses spilling from your lips. Your eyes form with tears from the overstimulation. Her face landed in the crook of your neck, planting sloppy kisses and whispering reassurances as she guides you through the climax.

“Good girl, that’s it, honey. That’s it,” she murmurs.

Her fingers still slowly pumping in and out of you, riding out your high.

“Holy shit," you say once you've caught your breath. "Haze, c'mere." She lifts her head back up and you yank her face down to yours, tasting yourself on her lips as she lets out a soft moan. When you eventually pull away, both breathless, you lock eyes before bursting into disbelieving laughter.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You whisper.

"I can," she says smugly. You playfully shove her before she collapses beside you. Both of you lie face to face, studying each other's features, committing them to memory, afraid you might forget what they look like. Her hand rests on your waist, mindlessly grazing up and down.

"What's the real reason you didn't come to the party? You ask. Were you with someone else?" Hazel shakes her head.

She pauses before speaking, "I thought if there was any chance of you being there, that I was gonna walk in and maybe see you with someone else. There was no way I could've handled that. I've been distracting myself with other girls, yeah, but..." Her voice trails off. "You have no idea how in love with you I still am." Her voice cracking with emotion. You can see a tear forming in Hazel’s eye, glimmering in the low light of the room.

“Hazel..” Your own voice slightly breaking. You reach out and drag your thumb delicately against her cheek, wiping the stray tear away. Your heart is breaking with a mixture of guilt and longing for the girl lying beside you.

“I still play pretend, in my head.” She whispers.

You smile, your hand resting on her neck, giving it a gentle squeeze, a signal of encouragement for her to keep going.

“I picture us, living together in our apartment in the city.”

Hazel was moving to New York City to work for her aunt after graduation. The reason you broke up, neither of you wanting to do long distance.

“Waking up next to you everyday, cooking you breakfast, fucking you on the countertop for hours” You both laugh at that. “Ever since I met you, I’ve always pictured you just being there. And these past few months…”

“Absolute hell.” You finish for her.

“Absolute hell.” She agrees.

You take her hand and squeeze it, a silent form of reassurance.

She shifts slightly and hovers over you again, brushing your damp hair off your forehead with her hand, and scans your face. “I don’t want this to end” she whispers.

You wish you could capture this moment, tuck it away, and replay it whenever you wanted. You’ve been waiting for her to say these exact words for the past three months, you just never thought it would happen. The reason for your break-up still heavily taunts the back of your mind.

“I love you” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. Taking her face in your hand and capturing her in another kiss. She kisses you sweetly and desperately.

You pull away, gently coaxing her back towards you, and cuddle her into your chest, assuming the role of the big spoon.

She nestles into your arms, finding comfort in the warmth of your body. With a soft sigh, she murmurs, "I wish we had more time.”

You tighten your hold around her, "We'll figure something out, I promise," you whisper, though you aren’t even sure of the reality of your own words. You choose to let go of the uncertainties, preferring to revel in the present moment. She looks back at you, and you kiss her forehead, a silent promise to cherish what you have, even if time feels fleeting.

“God damn full moon.” You mutter to yourself, remembering your earlier conversation at the party.

“What?” She asks.

“Nothing.” You say. “Don’t worry about it.” You kiss her shoulder, settling into the softness of the moment.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

tagging @astroph1les @vster0769

#hazel callahan #bottoms 2023 #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #hazel bottoms #hazel callahan fanfic #ruby cruz #wlw #sapphic #Spotify

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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

Text

Aces

prompt: ( requested ) during a terrible storm, you're invited to stay at your boss' house. years of tip-toeing around one another comes to an end when emotions are finally laid on the table.

pairing: Tommy Shelby x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Peaky Blinders

word count: 3.5k+

warning: honestly, it's pretty tame. some cursing, kinda-sorta one bed, most def OC Tommy, fluff, author is def on the Grace Hating Train but it's mild.

With a grunt, you threw the file of paperwork from your hands across the empty room; scattering across the floor. You were agitated, grouchy, beyond exhausted, and yet, there was no use in trying to leave when the worst storm to ransack England was being unleashed from the seediest parts of hell.

All you wanted was to go to bed for about 16 hours, but as midnight ticked closer and closer, that dream was dwindling. You'd be lucky to get a few hours at this point since your job was demanding enough to warrant early mornings and late nights. But this night was later than ever before.

You often wondered if your employer's antics brought this hell-storm upon you all, but figured, God didn't care that much about Small Heath. He most certainly didn't care for the Devil running it.

"Woah!" A voice laughed when the file went flying. "Gott'an arm on yah, love! Nearly took me fuckin' eye out!"

"Ha-ha," you mocked John Shelby, your employer's younger brother. "What're you still doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same," he smirked, squatting so he was in front of you with an exaggerated pout. "Why're you still here, love? Tommy's still gotcha workin'?"

"No, it's my own vocation."

"Tommy don't pay overtime, sweetheart."

"No shit," your eyes rolled. "In case I'm the only one capable of seeing it, there's an outlandish storm outside that prevents me from getting home." You gestured around where you sat on the floor, surrounded by files and other paperwork, "So, what else was I gonna do to pass the time?"

"It's not that bad," he waved you off. "C'mon, I'm off t'the Garrison, come with me, love. We can drink 'til the storm passes, huh?"

"John, seriously, I'm warning you," you deadpanned, watching him adjust his flatcap.

"C'mon, sweet cheeks, we can endure it," he laughed, opening the door and literally being shoved back by the force of the wind. You didn't make a sound, just reaching to hold down the papers around you as he grunted and groaned, trying to shut the flailing door; only able to once he threw his entire weight into it.

"Told you," you mused, his face and coat dripping wet from the short time the door was open.

"So, you're staying here, then?" He asked, panting, trying to play off the entire ordeal.

"I figured I'd get some more work done, it's not like Tommy gives any days off," you shrugged.

"He'd give you whatever you asked for," John smirked, taking his coat off.

"No, he needs me to do shit on the daily, there aren't days off, John Boy," you rolled your eyes playfully. "But I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to work for you idiots."

"Hey," he pouted.

"Oh, honey, if it helps any, you're my favorite idiot!"

"Good," he pointed at you with a small laugh. "But seriously, love, if you need the day off, Tommy would do it."

"No, there's so much to do here," you frowned. "We're on track to reopen in a few weeks, and if I take a day off, we'll fall behind, and you know Tommy doesn't do delays."

The gambling den the Shelby's operated was getting a make over now that The Shelby Company Limited was soon to be up and running. Hence why you were there in an empty room with only files around you and a dimly lit lap, you were trying to get shit organized before furniture could be moved back in.

You would have to restock Polly's office, Tommy's, Arthur's, and John's - all of who were Company members and would need their space to work. Not to mention the completely different office Tommy was currently eyeing to use as his base of operation, something you, as his personal assistant, was expected to help with every step of the way. Honestly, it was a miracle Tommy was ever able to get shit done before you - an organizational Goddess.

"Well," John sighed, looking around for a moment before shrugging and placing his hands on his hips, "want some help?"

You chuckled, "No, it's all right, John, you go on. Surely the lads will be home soon - "

Speak of the Devil! And He will appear!

The door burst open, sending your files every which way from the gust of wind; several bodies shoving their way inside before the lone, single body of Tommy Shelby stalked in last. He shut the door without issue, being a force of nature himself; a professionally observant, silent, lone menace that commanded the attention of any room he walked into. People on the street parted for him like the Red Sea, flocked to the darkened parts of the streets just to get a glimpse of the gangster in motion.

For as long as you can remember, you've harbored overwhelming affection for your boss, but never once vocalized it out of sheer fear of rejection.

He was Thomas Shelby. He was an enigma; a mysterious, stoic man that instilled a sense of fear and respect from those around him. You included, but yet never dare let your admiration for your employer be known in public. You loved him from a distance; admiring him and feeling yourself fall further into your unrequited love due to the intimate proximity you shared. He's always treated you as exactly what you were - a valuable member of the Company and his personal assistant. You worked intimately together on a daily basis, and each night you went home, you would scream into a pillow out of sheer frustration.

Being his personal assistant meant you were constantly in close proximity, and no matter how hard you tried to fight your feelings, it was impossible. He was Thomas bloody Shelby - insanely suave, charismatic, a deep nut to crack, but once he opened up, he was insanely loyal, caring, even decently amusing. He was all you wanted, but never felt secure enough to admit your feelings for him.

You were greeted happily by the men, all piling into the Shelby home to take refuge from the storm. You were left to silently rock to your feet and start gathering the papers that had gone flying in their entrance, glancing up when a hand offered help in rounding up your supplies. "Thank you, Mr. Shelby, but I got it," you insisted quietly, accepting the pages he handed you.

Tommy always had a soft spot for you.

He was silent for a moment, then asked, "What're you still doin' here?"

"Storm makes it impossible to get home," you shrugged. "I was waiting until it lessened, but it doesn't seem to," you glanced out the window, still shuffling files and papers together.

"You've worked all day," he sighed, "c'mon."

"Uh... Where?"

"Think you've earned a drink," he eased, already striding out of the room. You quickly finished gathering your papers, stacking them all together, but was pleasantly shocked when Tommy returned to the empty room with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

"Mr. Shelby, don't - "

But he was already sat on the ground, back against a wall, watching you with amusement. "Think a man's too good to sit on the floor?" He asked, uncorking the bottle.

"When their suit is so expensive that I have to take it to a specific cleaners, perhaps, then yes," you answered truthfully.

"I've money to spare, I can send this suit to be cleaned by another errand boy, you won't have to any longer," he poured two glasses of whiskey, "but tonight's company is too good to pass up."

You laughed, "Oh, no, what did you do?"

"Hmm?"

"You're kissing my arse a little, what've you done? What mess do I have to clean tomorrow?"

He smirked as you finally sat beside him, a bit stiffly, but accepted the drink he served. "Nothing, love, this storm's put a halt on everything," he gestured to the window, unaware that your heart stalled in your chest when you heard him call you 'love'. "What is it you were working on?" He asked, fingering the few files stacked between you. "Ah," he mused, reading the titles of the packets, "trying to get a jump on tomorrow, huh?"

"Not very much else to do," you shrugged. "I... I got a little frustrated. I think I'll need Polly to go over a few things with me."

"I'm sure you've got it," he spoke quietly. "I wouldn't have hired you if incapable."

You nodded, "Right, of course, sir."

Mr. Shelby offered you a look, taking a swig of whiskey. "You know, after hours, you don't have to be so professional."

"You didn't hire me to be unprofessional, though."

"No, I didn't, but this isn't a work meeting," he offered his glass. "We can still be friendly, can we not?"

You clinked his glass with yours, "Sure, of course we can..." How the hell could you be 'friendly' to the man you've pined after for the past two years? "So, I heard Grace skipped town," you started, instantly wincing when you realized what you said. "I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Shelby, I didn't mean to - "

But he chuckled, "You heard correct." He waited a long moment, then offered, "She's gone - for good."

You tested the waters, "Is... That a good thing?"

"It is."

"I thought you liked the barmaid?"

"I thought I did, too, but I've been wrong before."

"I doubt that."

"No, truly," he smirked, "I've made my fair share of mistakes."

"That you'd be willing to admit to?"

"Well, that's a different story," he mused, downing the last of his glass. "C'mon," he decided, sitting up, "the others are in the den, if you'd like to join?"

"Oh, no, I don't wish to intrude."

"Where were you going to sleep, then? If this storm doesn't die off in the next hour?" You gestured to where your coat and belongings were bunched up beside you, shrugging lightly. "No, absolutely not," he glared when he took in your makeshift bed, "you're coming in, you'll stay the night here."

"No, you lot are having family time - "

"And why do you assume you aren't family yet?" He asked sharply, making you reel back a little. "Three years, you've worked with my family, a portion of that before any of us came home. C'mon, love, you're more family than others wish to pretend to be."

"You mean that?" You worried softly.

He offered a look of mild offense, "I don't speak to hear the sound of my own voice. I would not say it if I did not mean it."

The whiskey in your system encouraged you to offer a sharp look, snipping, "It would not kill you to just say, 'Yes, I mean it.'"

Tommy smirked lightly, nodding, "Yes, I mean it. Come, you'll stay here tonight."

You couldn't fight off the smile even if you tried. With your coat and purse in one hand, Tommy took the other to help you off the floor. Like a gentleman, he took your belongings before leading you further into the Shelby home; leaving the empty gambling den to find the others all stuffed around a table with a card game loudly being played; fireplace stoked to life.

Polly greeted you happily, not knowing you were still here. Tommy set your things to the side as Arthur wrangled you into the seat beside him - insisting you had to be on his team! A quick sniff of his tea mug assured he was waist deep in the whiskey.

"Okay! New player at the table!" John announced, yanking all the cards back to hand over to Polly. They were all smoking, minus you and Finn. "You all know the rules - hey, hey, hey, no! Tommy's not on her team!" He pointed at you and his brother, who had sat beside you to sandwich you between Shelby's.

"Why not?" Tom asked, accepting the tea from Polly as Finn handed you your own.

"Thank you, little love," you whispered, pecking his cheek as he giggled.

"Becuase you two can communicate without words - it's fucking weird!" John insisted. "All right! Polly, you're with Tommy - the fucker likes to cheat."

"Being better than you isn't cheating, John Boy."

"Is when there's money on the line!" John laughed, Arthur leaning over to explain to you the game. He was actually a very good teacher, and even for a few rounds, you weren't a "viable player" just to let you watch and get the gist of things.

However, when you joined the game, it was far more intense than you had given credit for. But the Shelby's were competitive lads, Polly just happy to laugh and remind the boys of the rules; letting them dominate the table as you were content to just watch, laugh, and sip your tea. After a few rounds, Finn came over and hopped up on your lap, declaring you two a team now, and believe it or not, you won the next three hands!

"CHEATERS! AYE!?" John yelled, laughing right after as a boom of thunder rattled the home.

"No, call that beginners luck!" Arthur tried to defend, Tommy lighting a new cigarette.

"Or maybe John's just not accustomed to losing?" You grinned. "Especially from a lady?"

"I lost to a lady? Where? Where is she?" John looked around comically, earning a swift kick under the table that rattled the tea cups.

"All right, all right, next hand, we play for money, come on, come on, bets in the center," Polly instructed. "Finn, don't," she warned and you reached up to push the lad's hand down as he was ready to toss in a few pounds.

"Here, I'll cover us," you told the little lad, both grinning when you offered money to the center. Unknown to you, Tommy was keeping mental track of however much you were betting - intent to pay you back. Yet he didn't say anything, content to watch you and Finn have fun together.

Arthur and John were the most vocal of the group, arguing about scores and tallies and who won which round. You chuckled as Finn leaned into your chest, everyone waiting for the two to finish arguing; Polly looking over with a broad smirk before dropping her gaze. Tommy had seemingly naturally moved closer to you, one arm extended behind your chair to keep you close to his warmth.

Neither seemed to notice.

Not even when you would turn to crack a joke directly in Tommy's ear, his lips spreading in an easy smile that made Polly fight off her own grin. Grace was something special to Tommy, sure, this was true, but after the time together, she could tell that the two of you had become something more - without even verbalizing it.

Never realizing.

Hours passed, the storm still raged, two cartons of cigarettes was smoked between the lot of them, and there was no clear winner in sight. Finn had fully deflated into your embrace, asleep despite the loud thunder and blinding flashes of lightning. Your head had lulled onto Tommy's shoulder, sleep clawing at your eyelids as you listened to a drunken John and Arthur still argue about the card game. Polly eventually called it quits and bid everyone a goodnight, smiling softly when she noted the cozy seating between you and Tommy.

The longer you sat there, you more exhausted you became.

"C'mon, love," Tommy whispered softly, rousing you from your half-sleep, "let's get you to bed. C'mon, up you get," he smirked, aiding you from your chair as you kept a firm hold on his little brother. "We'll see you lot in the morning," he told his brothers.

"Night," John and Arthur waved, still deep into their argument, but smirking to one another when Tommy lead you up the stairs. When you were gone from sight, John leaned in and asked his eldest brother, "Think Tommy'll make a move tonight?"

Arthur glanced up the stairs, musing, "If he doesn't, he might be stupider then we thought."

John agreed.

Upstairs, Tommy opened the bedroom door and let you lay Finn softly on his bed, pausing to tug his shoes off and cover him with his blanket; moving his stuffed teddy bear closer and watching his sleeping hand naturally curl around it. You snuck out of the door, Tommy shutting the door, and tangled your hand with his.

Silently, he lead you to his bedroom.

It was small, ridiculously small, but it was enough for his single person. Tommy shut the door after you, moving around, muttering, "You can sleep in this," as he handed you one of his shirts, "and I'll be in the drawing room if you need me - "

"Tommy, I'm not kicking you out of your room," you sighed. "I can sleep on the sofa for the night, it's not - "

"I'm not letting you do that," he refused sharply.

"Then we seem to be at an impasse," you decided with perked brows. "Either we're both sleeping on the sofa or we both crash your bed. You choose."

He chuckled dryly, "And here I thought the whiskey would make you less stubborn."

"Wishful thinking."

He nodded, letting you have the room to change and get under the covers. It was decently cold in his room, more so without pants; the storm doing nothing to remedy that, and when Tommy returned, everything felt different.

A good different, but still different.

Neither of you made eye contact, him joining you in the absurdly small bed after blowing the candles out. You settled on your side, facing the wall, and after a few moments of adjusting, Tommy was settling down - but hesitating to deflate in comfort.

"Is it all right if I, uh... If I...?"

"Yeah, 's all right, Tommy," you whispered, reaching for the hand that hovered over your waist and pulling it so he was curled around you. It was all he needed to readjust, sigh to himself, and deflate against your back. You shivered slightly when his warm breath fanned over your neck and shoulder; his hand splaying over your belly and rubbing his thumb mindlessly. "Thank you for letting me stay the night," you whispered.

"Wasn't gonna send you home in this weather," he answered, voice vibrating the shell of your ear. "Besides," he whispered in a sigh, "this is where I wanted you, and where I wanted to be."

You chuckled, "Oh, yeah? So cold in here you need a warm body in bed with you?"

"No," he whispered, "but I've been in love with you for months now that I didn't want you far from me. Doesn't feel right, seeing you go home without me - everyday. I was overjoyed to come back and see you still here."

"What?" He didn't let you turn around, just kept you both there; locked in your spoon. "Tommy, what're you saying?"

He took a sobering breath, "That this is what I want, this is where I want us to be."

"That's the whiskey talking."

"No, love, it's you," his lips danced across your ear, making you shiver. "It's always been you, but I wasn't in my right mind to do anything about it."

"And now you are?"

"I might be, I couldn't go another minute with you thinking I don't want you - that I don't value you in my life. The fact that you were ready to sleep downstairs hurt me more than I'm willing to admit," he sighed, "and I knew, I needed to confess a few things so you know, you're welcome in this family. You won't ever sleep downstairs, love, you're meant to be here... With me... If you want to be."

You had to slap his hand to get him to loosen his grip and let you turn around to face him; but his hand remained on your, moving up to grip your ribs. In a whisper, you asked, "You're being honest? Genuine?"

"I can't lie to you, you can always tell. So, am I lying?"

"I don't think so," you whispered with skepticism, eyes narrowed. Neither of your voices rose above a whisper, "Why say any of this, Tommy?"

"Because the idea of going another day without at least trying to tell you how I feel was beginning to feel suffocating."

"What about Grace?"

"It's taken me a bit, but I know now that I was infatuated with her simply because I had already decided you were out of my league."

"Do you hear yourself?" You grinned, caressing his cheek. "You're everything I've wished for, Tommy, but know I can't have. You're the one in a league of your own, I'm the one unable to touch you."

His head shook, "You're all I've wanted and more. I wasn't sure you'd think it appropriate - my affection for you - given you work for me."

"The same reason I feared voicing my affection for you, too."

"Now that it's in the open," he whispered, "how do you want to proceed?"

"We can figure logistics out later," you smiled, tracing your fingertips over his face, "but for now, I just want to enjoy this. I never thought you'd look at me the same way, and now that you do, I don't want to look away."

"You won't have to," he whispered. "I'm in this for us, my sweet, if you are."

"Nowhere I'd rather be," you whispered, cuddled close, and simply breathing the same air. For a single moment, Tommy felt unparalleled peace; the shovels quiet, heart content, and body warm.

requesting rules and masterlist

Peaky Blinders masterlist

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby drabble #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x f!reader #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #peaky blinders tommy #tommy peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x y/n #tommy shelby one shot

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writerfromshikahr · 1 month ago

Text

A pre-relationship piece. TW for some discussion of abuse, but nothing detailed.

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Pebbles - Lucanis X Rook Fanfic

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"I can see why this is your favourite spot," Rook said, gazing out at the bustling city below. "Treviso looks stunning from up here. I never got to explore this part of the city as a child."

Lucanis smiled as they sat together on the rooftop. "Illario and I would come up here and throw pebbles at the people below—until Caterina caught us," he said, smirking. "It was his idea, of course."

Rook laughed softly. "Yes, that does seem like something he would do," she said, turning to him with a knowing smile. "But you should have known better."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the distant hum of the city below filling the air. Then Rook spoke again. "Must have been hard, growing up with Caterina. She seems like a formidable woman. If your training was anything like mine…" Rook trailed off, her voice softening as she caught herself.

Lucanis regarded her for a moment, his gaze steady but unreadable. "She’s my grandmother, but yes, it was difficult. At the time, I hated her. She was impossible to please, and like most Crows, I suffered. But what made it worse," he said, his tone lowering, "was when she’d turn around and tell me it was because she cared for me. It was… confusing."

"I understand," she said quietly, though her voice carried the weight of her memories.

"And you?" Lucanis asked, his gaze lingering on her. "I learned a little from Viago. He may have called you 'his idiot,' but don’t take it personally. If he ever stops using that word, then you should start worrying." His smirk softened as he added, "You were eight when you joined House de Riva?"

"My parents were killed while they were trading here," Rook said, her gaze fixed on the city below. "We were walking back to our accommodations when some mercenaries jumped them. I don’t remember much of that evening." She hesitated, "But I do remember trying to use my dagger for the first time—trying to help my mother."

Her hand drifted to her lap, her fingers fidgeting as she spoke. "I would have been killed too if it hadn’t been for a Crow that… intervened." The word lingered, heavy with meaning. "House de Riva took me in—gave me a home, a place to sleep. But they never addressed what I’d witnessed. Instead, they used it, reminded me of that night, to push me harder in training." She glanced at Lucanis, her expression conflicted. "I’m grateful, but like you said, it’s strange to feel grateful to people who also hurt you."

"We have things in common, it seems," his voice thoughtful. "I lost my parents young, but unlike you, I had family." He glanced at her, his expression softening. "You were alone in a city that wasn’t your own, surrounded by strangers you had no choice but to rely on." He paused, his dark eyes lingering on hers. "Admirable resilience for someone so young, Rook."

"I get a compliment Dellamorte? I’ll take it—Viago doesn’t hand those out too often."

"Oh, you’re his favourite; that’s why he’s harder on you," Lucanis leaned back on his hands. "Besides, you have me by your side now. That’d terrify him more—he and I, we have a history."

"By my side? Is this just Crow loyalty, or… something else?" she mused, glancing down at the city. Her heart fluttered as the question lingered, unspoken feelings stirring beneath her curiosity.

He regarded her quietly for a moment before replying, his tone unreadable. "As I said, there are plenty of reasons to work with you. Some, I admit, might be more out of self-interest than others."

"Self-interest? I can work with that," she said, smiling at him.

Lucanis didn’t respond, and she hadn’t expected him to. Silence fell again, broken only by the faint hum of the city. She noticed him digging into his pocket.

"I almost forgot," he said, pulling out a small handful of pebbles and offering them to her.

"I wondered why you were picking those up when we walked here."

He smiled playfully. "Whoever can hit that merchant’s stall three times in a row buys the coffee later. Bonus points if you can land one in the bowl of mackerel."

Rook raised a brow, taking a pebble. "The fish? Now you’re just trying to show off."

Lucanis rolled a pebble between his fingers. "Maybe. Or maybe I just want to see if you're up for the challenge." He tossed the pebble lightly in the air and caught it, his gaze darting to the stall below. "Your move."

Rook narrowed her eyes, "Oh, I’m more than up for it."

She aimed, letting the pebble fly. It bounced off the corner of the merchant's stall, missing her mark by inches. "Damn it," she muttered, biting back a laugh.

He chuckled, leaning forward. "Close, but not quite. Watch and learn." With an almost lazy flick of his wrist, his pebble sailed down, landing with a soft plunk in the bowl. He tossed another pebble in the air looking decidedly smug.

"My coffee’s going to taste even better knowing you’re paying for it."

#lucanis dellamorte #rook #lucanis x rook #antivan crows #rookanis #dragon age the veilguard #rookanisfanfic #tw abuse #fluff #mild flirting #aloisia de riva

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lovelynim · 7 months ago

Text

(Un)wanted company

Genshin Impact - Heizou x Kazuha x Scaramouche

A/N: Happy birthday Miaaaa ( @ticklygiggles )!! I'm so sorry for not being very subtle about it. I hope you can see how much I appreciate your friendship and your company with this little fic. Love you, *mwah*!

Summary: Scaramouche overslept, which gave the perfect oportunity for his partners to do something about it.

Word count: 1323 words

Scaramouche gritted his teeth, slightly scrunching up his shoulders as he tried to sink into the mattress and run from the two attentive gazes that hovered over him. He wanted to curse, but the last bits of wit inside his head reminded him that it would only worsen his predicament.

“Isn’t he the cutest, Kazuha?” Heizou cooed, tilting his head and resting his hand against his own cheek.

Kazuha - or, as Scaramouche would address him - the other bastard, promptly nodded, gently moving his hand through Scaramouche’s hair, making the latter practically hiss at him. “Indeed. He looked so adorable in his sleep, but I still think that nothing beat his angry face ~”

Scaramouche clenched his hands and kicked his legs, but all for nought. With Heizou making himself comfortable on top of his stomach and Kazuha sitting on his arms, Scaramouche was firmly pinned down by his partners’ weight for archons-know-how-long. All he ever wanted were five more minutes of sleep, just that and nothing else. But, perhaps, this was the price he had to pay for deciding to live surrounded by idiots.

After a couple more attempts of freeing himself, Scaramouche groaned, forced to admit and recognize he was at the mercy of the other two. “I will kill you two if you don’t let me go right now,” he muttered, an awful frown taking place in his face as he looked down to Heizou and, then, back up to Kazuha.

His threat, however, didn’t seem to work as intended. The two exchanged looks before scoffing at it and chuckling with amusement. “Oh, Kuni, don’t be angry,” Kazuha hummed, stroking Scaramouche’s cheek.

“Besides,” Heizou mused as he rested his hands against Scaramouche’s sides, “it’s your fault for oversleeping.”

Those words made Scaramouche’s heart drop inside his chest, his eyes widening as he connected the pieces together: barely a couple of days ago, it was Heizou the one that refused to get out of bed. While Scaramouche wanted to kick him out, Kazuha suggested a more gentle, but effective approach - which Scaramouche promptly adopted.

He never expected to have the tables turned on him like that.

“D-don’t you da-AHARE!”

Heizou grinned, the corner of his lips curling up in a wicked manner as he poked each of Scaramouche’s sides at the same time. “Or what, Kuni?” Heizou mused, chuckling as he saw the frustrated - and flustered - look on his partner’s face. “That’s what I thought.”

Wasting not a single more second, Heizou continued to savor his sweet revenge, scratching and wiggling his fingers over Scaramouche’s sides and stomach, gently dragging his short nails over the thin cloth that protected his skin.

“NahAHaha– K-KaedaHAhara, lehehet goHOHO!” Scaramouche laughed, pressing the back of his head in Kazuha’s lap and clenching his hands, hoping to, somehow, free them.

But despite his calls for aid, Kazuha seemed interested in answering them. The samurai shook his head, smiling gently, “I can’t, Kuni. Heizou asked me to help him, it wouldn’t be fair if I switched sides now.”

“You could be helping me instead, hm?” Heizou suggested, pinching Scaramouche’s waist in a way that made him want to crawl out of his skin, “I remember how you clearly joined him, Kazuha ~” Heizou whined, even pouting while his hands continued the onslaught on Scaramouche’s body.

As if the tickling wasn’t bad enough, Scaramouche thought, he still had to deal with the other two bickering at a time like this. “A-ah, but, Heizou-”

“I see, you like him better, don’t you? You even gave him a nickname that I’m not allowed to use,” Heizou feigned a saddened expression, digging into Scaramouche’s ribs, “you hear that, Ku-ni-ku-zu-shi? He loves you more!”

“S-SHuhuHUT UP!” Scaramouche cackled. As a matter of fact, Kazuha wasn’t allowed to call him by that nickname, but it never stopped him. Still, to think Heizou would make a scene - even if it was a fake one - over it… “E-nOHOhough, yohohou brahAHahat!”

“That’s not it, Heizou, and you kno-”

“Then,” Heizou interrupted him again, also stopping the tickling this time. He pressed his hands on Scaramouche’s chest as he leaned forward, closing the distance between him and Kazuha, “help me tickle him, Kazuha ~”

“I-”

“Don’t- hahh… d-don’t you dare side with him, Kaedahara!” Scaramouche uttered, still out of breath and having a hard time catching it up with Heizou’s weight on his chest.

This was bad, Kazuha thought, as a shy, but confused smile took place in his lips. If he helped Heizou, Kuni would be mad at him for days, weeks even… but if he listened to Kuni, then Heizou would be the one getting upset.

Still, he had to decide And, in times like these, he always opted for the fairest decision, which was…

“Sigh, sorry, Kuni,” Kazuha chuckled softly, “I will make it up to you later.”

A mix of reactions filled the room at that moment: Heizou beamed with excitement, cheering his little victory, while Scaramouche widened his eyes in disbelief, facing what he would later name as his fourth betrayal.

“I hahAHATE YOHOHOU!” Scaramouche cackles echoed through his final words, pressing his eyes shut and thrashing his head as Kazuha moved his hands to tickle him under his pinned, restrained arms.

Despite the threats and curses, neither Kazuha nor Heizou seemed to feel intimidated. In fact, it only made them more amused. Seeing Scaramouche trying to be scary while that sweet, angry laughter poured from his lips was worth whatever the scolding they would get later on.

While Kazuha gently fluttered his fingers over Scaramouche’s underarms, going down to his ribs and then back up to his forearms from time to time, Heizou was a little more fierce, scratching, prodding and pinching wherever his fingers could reach. It didn’t take long for small tears of mirth to begin to cling at Scaramouche’s lashes, threatening to roll down his rosy cheeks as he shook his head in a loud fit of laughter.

“Heizou, don’t be so mean,” Kazuha muttered with a hint - but just a hint - of concern in his voice. Heizou rolled his eyes - not that Scaramouche could see that through as the two wreak ticklish havoc in his body, but it’s still something worth to mention. “You’ll hurt him.”

“Why are you so worried, it’s not like he needs to breathe, right?” Heizou hummed, rubbing his thumbs over Scaramouche’s waist, making him squeal loudly, “he always reminds us of that when kissing… he is the mean one, not me!”

“CahAHAn you t-two stahAHAhap?!” Scaramouche groaned, not knowing if it was worse when Kazuha and Heizou paid full attention to him or when they ignored him completely. All he knew was that his cheeks hurt from laughing, and so did his stomach.

Exchanging looks, Kazuha and Heizou nodded, deciding to listen to Scaramouche’s request this time and make the tickling come to a halt. As they lifted their hands, the other’s body went limp in their bed, his head resting in Kazuha’s lap, still high, light from laughing.

“Y-you- agh…” Scaramouche wheezed, barely noticing the shifting behind him as Kazuha fred his hands. “I h-hahate you two…”

“No, you don’t,” Heizou teased, letting his body fall next to Scaramouche and laying by his side, “you love us.”

“And we love you too,” Kazuha added sweetly, making Scaramouche cringe at his words. Under complaints and groans, the duo giggled, kissing each of Scaramouche’s cheeks at the same time.

“G-get off me!” Scaramouche hissed, pressing his hands against his partners’ chests and trying to push them away.

“Fine, fine,” Heizou laughed, sitting up, “let’s get something to eat. I’m starving!” He beamed, hopping out of the bed and getting followed by a worried Kazuha that tried to convince him to wait.

Alone, again, in their bedroom, Scaramouche finally sat up. He looked at the door, listening to the noises from the other part of their house and sighing. Maybe having some company wasn’t so bad, after all…

#genshin impact #genshin impact tickling #ler!heizou #ler!kazuha #lee!scaramouche #ticklish!scaramouche #kazuscarahei #kaedahara kazuha #shikanoin heizou #scaramouche #happy birthday miaaaa

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peeweekey · 9 months ago

Text

i visited idiot street and everyone knew your name!

part i, part ii, part iii

a/n: the well awaited end to this fic is here! enjoy :)

synopsis: the three times you friendzoned Alhaitham, and the one he made damn sure you didn't.

tags: alhaitham/reader ; school setting ; valentine's day special ; reader likes sewing, miscommunication

It’s Valentine’s Day, and the most unusual thing to ever happen to you—happens.

A pristine white note falls out of your locker, and you never thought you would see the day. You’d assume, being a workaholic and being relegated to tasks (due to people pleasing tendencies you can’t seem to shake off), that you’d finish off the school year without falling victim to Valentine’s day sickeningly sweet confessions.

Please meet me in the homeroom lab after classes. – H

If it was any other day, you’d assume one of the teachers wrote you this note, and that you were going to be subjected to a ruthless talking-to. Yet, coincidentally, it’s that time of the year, and everyone else is getting notes like these too.

For the fun of it, you still decide to go where the note directs you. Mostly because you’re deathly curious to who this H person is. No expectations, of course.

When the dismissal bell rings, you quickly scramble out of your classroom, pointedly ignoring your friend’s confused call of your name. Leaving your bag and belongings behind. You’ll get back to her later—but now, the curiosity is killing you.

You navigate the sloppily decorated hallways; passing by lovestruck couples and through streamer paper decor of pinks, whites and reds. Cupid balloons and the overwhelmingly sweet scent of roses suffocate your senses.

The homeroom lab is at the end of the hallway, where all the decorations dwindle or are practically deflating with the lack of attention to detail—it irks you slightly, if this is a confession like you suspect, the surroundings could afford to be somewhat romantic. Not this cheap, unenthusiastic mess, it certainly wouldn’t be helping your case.

Your eyes lock onto one heart helium balloon, it drifts aimlessly across the floor—not enough to float up but not completely deflated. You glare at it, like trying to pop it with only your gaze, then to the door.

Steeling yourself, you take a breath then slide it open.

The last person you ever expect to be there, is there too.

“Alhaitham?” you ask, breathless and puzzled.

Was it him that sent you the note?

You shake that thought away, although you got your hopes up the tiniest bit, it’s probably unrelated to anything hearts themed. You’re pretty sure he’s been actively avoiding people confessing to him today. Maybe that’s why he hid in here, you muse.

“It’s me, yes,” he nods. “I assume you read my note?”

You laugh, shutting the homeroom lab door unceremoniously behind you. “That was you? Dude, you could’ve just told me, what’s with all the secrecy?”

“There’s something that I need to discuss with you.”

“Discuss with me,” you repeat, walking over to lean against the working table. Which, thank heavens, is pristinely clean. “Am I in trouble?”

“No,” he responds and you hum in faux relief. “Though there is something else.”

Alhaitham produces a sleek black chocolate box from seemingly nowhere—or maybe you hadn't seen him hold it—and holds it out to you.

“Sweet!” you grin, snatching the chocolates and examining the box. “This is some really good chocolate, Haitham. Who gave you this one?”

“No one,” he says. Alhaitham picks at his black painted nails—ones that you yourself painted a few weeks ago in his apartment. The polish is immaculate, almost looking freshly painted if it weren’t for the new nail growth starting underneath. “Those are completely from me, for you.”

You double take, taking a long lingering look at the gift. On the smack middle of the box, is the same type of note from earlier in your locker, but this has your name written in elegant cursive:

Happy Valentines. It writes, and you feel strange tingles travel down your spine. Not entirely unpleasant.

“You shouldn’t have,” your eyes widen. “I didn’t get anything for you, I never thought we were getting each other friendship chocolates!”

There’s a lengthy pause before you hear any reaction from him. Alhaitham makes a strangled noise from deep in his throat. “Friendship chocolates?”

He stresses your name, while massaging his temples. “...I wrote you that note, I waited in here for you and have the audacity to think what I gave you are friendship chocolates. Does that sound logical to you?”

“Of course,” you snort, putting down the chocolates to rest on the low table. “The only other reason I can think of would be because you like me, which I doubt—”

His lips flatten in unamusement. “So what if I do?”

“Wait, what?”

He inhales deeply, and you swear you see the slightest hints of pink on his ears that peek from underneath silver hair. The silence now is absolutely deafening, and the anticipation even more so. To you, the knowledge of his bashfulness makes the situation feel all the more real.

Alhaitham utters your name softly, like he’s pleading you to understand so that he needn’t repeat himself. Which he never does, the damn prideful man.

You’d make a teasing remark if you weren’t so frozen with nerves, the sound of your name from his lips is causing ticklish shivers up your spine. It sounds so intimate when he says it.

Like a secret, even. Although Alhaitham might be the most self-preserving and unambitious person you know, when it comes to the things that matter to him—he takes initiative right away.

“So you like me–” you breathe, the button up collar of your shirt feels all too tight all of a sudden, you tangle your fingers together and squeeze tightly. “Like, like like me?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you,” he sighs, low and long-suffering. “For three whole years.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Your eyes widen and you feel a low simmering heat spreading all over, even till your fingertips. You recall all the other times, past Valentine's days and recounting his strange behavior. All the dots start to connect together and you wonder how you never noticed. “What the hell.”

“So that one time last year when you were offering me your button—” you gasp. You remember, it’s a stupid highschool tradition, a boy would offer the second button of his uniform to a girl if he liked her. It’s the closest to the heart, but to you, it’s a thoughtless way to ruin perfectly good clothing. “Haitham, did you ask Kaveh for advice or something?”

“Matters like these are irrelevant to argue with him about,” he scoffs. Alhaitham folds his arms across his chest. “He ran off and came to the conclusion himself. Ever since then, he’s been bothering me with trying all types of confession tradition.”

Laughter starts to bubble out of you, disbelieving and flustered to the maximum level. “Dude, I basically friendzoned you and had no idea! You should’ve told me.”

His shoulders stiffen and he gives you such a disarmingly attractive look. And if your eyes dare deceive you, he looks the teensiest bit hopeful too. Right now, you feel like your heart is beating right out of your goddamn chest. The sound is so loud, the quickening thumping sound of your chest that you swear he might hear it too.

“...I see that now,” he says, his expression is exasperated—but so unbelievably soft. You feel yourself melting like butter under his gaze. “Though I am disappointed in your lacking ability to identify context clues.”

“Oh whatever,” you bump your shoulder against his, though you don’t move back away. The warmth of him is all consuming and comforting as hell, you could burrow yourself in him and never resurface, you think. He accepts your closeness with a strong arm wrapping behind you to hold you by the hand. Your stomach does somersaults in your stomach. “It’s all your fault. You’re an idiot for not telling it to me straight.”

“Does that mean you reciprocate?” he murmurs, leaning closer to whisper in your ear.

You pull back enough to take the box of chocolates, opening it and popping one in your mouth. “This chocolate is pretty good. Guess I’ll have to let you stick around for more.”

I like you too.

He nuzzles into you, leaving a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. “I guess you do, don’t you?”

#alhaitham genshin #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #genshin impact #x reader #complete!!#finally #key's-vault #genshin

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jhuzen · 2 years ago

Note

i’m not sure if you’re taking requests right now so feel free to ignore/delete this if not ! i wanted to request a piece on a jealous al haitham where reader starts fawning over how pretty kaveh is when they meet for the first time! this is mostly cuz that was my own reaction after seeing kaveh HAHA m!reader too please! thank you :]

reticent jealousy [m.reader]

i have emerged from my tomb of university things. and i sincerely thank you anon for giving me such a fun request! this is so fun to write considering that i’ve been ignoring haitham in anticipation for kaveh’s ass LMAO. it’s also a little longer than what i intended since i wanted to oil my gears in writing again, i hope you don’t mind hehe.

𖦹 alhaitham being jealous of mister nuisance roommate, reader forgets the concept of personal space

Ever the charming man you are, you never failed to entice the people you’ve surrounded yourself with. With your charismatic wit and sincerity, coupled with that good looks you’ve somehow acquired from your beloved parents, it was not rocket science to figure out why people were drawn to you like moths to an attractive flame. You constantly piqued the interests of each and every person in the vicinity. It was natural to be attracted to you, you were beyond mesmerizing.

So much that you even managed to capture Alhaitham’s interest. Meeting him at the Akademiya was nothing short of interesting. Your family sent you to study in Haravatat — coincidentally being under the same Darshan as the now infamous scribe. Though it was not your interest, you complied out of respect to your parents, staying in between being average and excelling with barely a half of your efforts.

Alhaitham, at first, thought you were an idiot — only to realize how much bigger of an idiot you are when he came to see just how well off you truly are in your studies with you coming in clean that your far better grades than most students was just a product of your thirty percent effort.

Despite your open expression of fondness to certain things (which, admittedly, had given you a disposition of an exuberant airhead), Alhaitham respected you as a colleague and had even given you some of his approval when you would open up to him about your true passion.

Much like how people appreciated the handsome masterpiece that is you, you yourself beheld the beauty of the world. You loved anything that was pleasing in the eyes, and your hands worked to capture them in your paintings. If one took a good look at your works, one could see the inherent romanticism that you displayed. Everything and everyone was beautiful in your eyes, and among the cold and tired and researchers under your Darshan, you were the shining beacon of sincerity.

Really, it wasn’t so hard to fall for you. And Alhaitham went in ahead and tripped, and fell right into your strong arms.

Though his pride served as a hindrance in professing his affections that were left cooped up inside him for the entirety of your years spent as scholars in Akademiya, your observant eyes and empathic attitude finally gave mercy and aided his pining for you and did the asking for him instead.

Thus the beginning of the sneaked through kisses on your visitations in the scribe’s office, the nights he has spent with you in your home to avoid a certain roommate of his, the dates that were spent by the edge of cliffs, with his head on your lap as he read while you painted the romantic hues of the sunsets in Sumeru — all of which you cherished and Alhaitham even more.

You have always proudly proclaimed that Alhaitham was your greatest muse, and it was rarely a stretch considering that there was an office in your quaint little home that was filled with to the brim of masterpieces you created with your beloved as your sole subject. The sketches that were hastily pinned on a foam board, the paintings of him that gave the man a far more lively depiction of himself than the real one, and the pièce de résistance of your living portfolio was the your lover’s torso, sculpted to perfection.

(You swore you’d put his head in it, but he grew to realize that it would take awhile on the times he’d catch you locked up in your room, in a daze while tracing your fingers on the grooves of his sculpted abs.)

And while Alhaitham valued subjective opinions so little, when it comes to you, your words are his scriptures, his guides that he could never let go of. He waited with bated breath every time he silently sought your approval on how he looks, on how he presents himself as it was an investment to your love — the man that appreciates beauty out of everyone else — he sees it as a way to reciprocate your care. He puts in great effort for you just to return the sincerity that you bring him.

Either way, there was absolutely nothing that could break you apart. And whether people were in the know of your status in your relations with each other, everyone in Sumeru City was aware that wherever you are, the now Acting Grand Sage is always close by and the same applies vice versa.

And today just happened to be one of the times that you were free from your commissions that you’ve received from overseas and Alhaitham was surprisingly free despite his much busier schedule as the Acting Grand Sage.

There was an undeniable bliss in the atmosphere as you strolled around with your beloved and in the silence that you and Alhaitham held, there was comfort and respite. No words were truly needed the moment his hand slipped into yours, barely concealed by his coat that asymmetrically hung onto his form from the public eye.

“Ah!” you suddenly blurted, breaking the silence between you and your lover and catching Alhaitham’s attention, “Look at those fine ceramics! Judging from the design, they’re imported from Liyue, hang on, dearest.”

Alhaitham’s lips turned down into a subtle frown when your hand left his grasp, unable to feel the familiar light callouses that you’ve obtained from working your hands to the bone in your line of work. He looked up from his book to see you gravitating towards a certain stall, eyes narrowing at the way the girl behind the goods seemed far more entranced to your visage than keeping watch of her wares.

He gets it though, he understands more than anyone else. He was meant to be the untouchable Alhaitham — the man that cannot be swayed by just a pretty face. But you yourself broke past his walls without even knowing it, he was already convinced he has to be with the pretty boy of Haravatat. You were the unstoppable force to his immovable object and the only solution when you met ended up with his lips on yours and him underneath you, completely under your mercy.

Still, it doesn’t shake off the fact that you are objectively a handsome man, someone inherently charming with the sharp wits to boot. Alhaitham was sure that even if you can’t provide, someone will be infatuated enough to provide for you (however this in itself is not him admitting that he is near that stage… definitely not). People will throw themselves at your feet, and women and men have approached you with a hidden motive countless times during your dates with him.

Though it was consoling to see you reject them with grace (though he preferred a brutal slap to the face), there was a thought that kept intruding within him when he saw the reality upon dating one of the most sought out men in Sumeru.

You were a man that appreciated and sought beauty. And in truth, he wasn’t just your muse although he was your frequent one. There was always something unsettling the moment your eyes lay on a person who you find appealing, and his scowl couldn’t help but be evident when even without having to be naturally seductive, the way your flustering touches reach other people to convince them to be your muse.

Alhaitham had a green-eyed monster that he unknowingly nursed — its jealous head rearing out on certain moments, breathing down on his neck whenever you left him, your beloved muse.

And it seems as though the fates have woven a test for him. A test that certainly does not appeal to his fancy.

“Oi! Alhaitham, you jerk! Did you steal my keys again?! You locked me out of our— ahem, my apartment again!”

The Acting Grand Sage’s eyes immediately narrowed when he heard that familiar voice. One that he often used as an excuse to come and stay the night with you (really, he never needed an excuse, but his ego refused to absolutely be fragile even to you at moments). He pondered his options, and the choice him just turning away was the most inviting one, yet he knew that would only prompt his roommate to whine louder and attract more attention.

He turned towards Kaveh, his blank expression masking the little exasperation that’s bubbling up inside him, “I’ve never seen your keys.” It was a lie, as it sat snugly in his pockets for a good day now. “Why do you always come to accuse me of such things?”

Kaveh was quick to scoff at Alhaitham’s question, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms before prattling on, “Oh don’t give me that hooey! I know it’s you! Instead of coming home from my projects and just relaxing, I have to go see if Cyno’s still awake to crash into his place!”

“Maybe if you pay your rent, you can stop losing your keys more,” a silent dig had Kaveh faltering with a huff.

“So it is you!” The blonde only shifted his footing before leaning in to jab his finger into Alhaitham’s chest, “And maybe I’ll pay my rent if you start losing those hideous decorations. I’ve only liked one thing and it was that painting that you suddenly brought home.”

“What I do with my money is none of your business,” Alhaitham cooly brushed Kaveh’s accusations off — of course it was deliberate every time he purchased a vase or a rug that had a clashing color palette, or anything remotely sacrilegious in an artist’s (more so yours) eye. But he wouldn’t deny that one painting. It was something he brought home from you, something you even encouraged for him to take as a gift from you on a random day.

Kaveh pinched the bridge of his nose as he heaved a begrudged sigh, “Whatever. Just lend me my keys and—”

“Oh! Aren’t you just the most darling man I’ve ever seen!”

Alhaitham’s heart stopped and instantly dropped down to his stomach when that angelic voice of yours suddenly rang in his ears.

Apart from his crudely decorated purchases, one reason why he never once wanted you to visit him in his apartment often is mostly for the fear of you having to meet his roommate. All for numerous reasons — something that Alhaitham foresaw that he wouldn’t be in favor of in the slightest bit. You know he has a roommate, and knew that Kaveh was the reason why Alhaitham looks relatively exasperated on certain days. For so long, you’ve wanted to meet this man, and yet Alhaitham blatantly refuses because he’s afraid that Kaveh’s ineptness would rub off on you or that you might start taking clients out of the goodness of your heart and not as a proper job.

“What?”

“What.”

Kaveh scoffed, “Oh, just great. Here’s another one of your admirers. Give me the damn key and I’ll leave before I start hurling my precious lunch in the middle of the street.”

And yet both men stiffened up when you passed by Alhaitham, your gaze can be completely mistaken for something lovestruck as you gravitated towards Kaveh. The blonde froze as your pretty face got closer to his, your eyes scrutinizing his features, and even then, the poor architect could only avert his eyes from yours, flustered, before meeting Alhaitham’s darkening gaze, only furthering his confusion.

You finally leaned back, “Ah— Apologies for invading your personal space—! I just! I just find you absolutely breathtaking!” Your sincerity was quick to reach Kaveh, and his face erupted into a blooming shade of bright red. “Oh! What a cute boy you are! And your proportions are undoubtedly stunning!”

“W-Wha—?”

Alhaitham watched in silent mortification when one of your gentle hands trailed towards Kaveh’s arm, sliding down to grasp his hand and bringing his arm up, “Give me a little spin, won’t you please?” You asked with a smile of plea.

Utterly confused and still dumbfounded and embarrassed, Kaveh couldn’t find himself to refuse your polite request (he’d love to call it coercion, but you were so nice) and spun around, his hand still within your warm grasp. He could feel his heart stutter when he heard your pleased hum of approval.

“A good eye for fashion too!” Your hand finally left his and stepped back, “Oh! You are perfect!”

Alhaitham’s eyes narrowed. His arms quickly crossed to his chest — a defense mechanism as the familiar dread slowly sunk in him, spreading to every single crevice of his body. His muscles tensed with every sing of praise that left your lips, with every touch you left on Kaveh’s form, and the way his nuisance of a roommate certainly relished in the sudden attention you’re giving him.

Worst part of it all is that Kaveh wasn’t even remotely aware that you were dating Alhaitham in the first place; that this admiration of yours was just you fawning over your new chosen muse. But he doesn’t know that — so your fondness can be quickly mistaken for blatant lovestruck adoration.

“‘Haitham! Doesn’t he look amazing?” You finally turned to your lover, whose eyes grew soft quick the moment your attention was on his.

Kaveh wrinkled his nose, “…Huh? ‘Haitham’? You know this man?” He asked, his embarrassed look finally reverting into that familiar expression of annoyance as he looked at Alhaitham.

“Of course! You know him as well?” You tilted your head a little to the side with a small smile.

The blonde was strained as he nodded, “He’s… an acquaintance.”

“My roommate,” Alhaitham finally clarified with a displeased grunt. It’s one way to rip the anticipation off, and in an instant, your eyes were elated as you turned to his roommate’s direction.

“So you’re the illustrious ‘nuisance roommate’ Kaveh…” you chuckled a little as you lent your hand to the architect, “It’s nice to finally meet ‘Haitham’s roommate.”

Kaveh took your hand and shook it cautiously, eyes narrowing a little. If you’re in the company of Alhaitham, surely you have some form unbearable personality as well… especially with that disarming sincerity that you exuded, “And you’re the…?”

“The boyfriend,” you stated, clear as a day with a small smile on your face and Kaveh’s grip tightened on your hand.

“The what?!”

“It’s not so shocking,” Alhaitham finally interrupted your conversation with his roommate, his arms uncrossing as he took a step closer to you. “And no, I didn’t pay him.” He already interjected before Kaveh could accuse you the same way he did to the traveler and their floating companion on their first meet.

“I certainly would’ve given a receipt if he did.”

Kaveh’s hand fell from your grip as his life crumbled before his eyes. His roommate that he classifies as the most unbearable person in the whole universe… is suddenly taken? By you? A handsome guy that he has never met in his whole life for some reason? He has to take a reality check, and his vision blurred. No way his loser of a roommate is getting laid before him.

Absolute sacrilege.

Meanwhile, Alhaitham had half a mind to take you and just leave Kaveh while he processed the sudden drop of information. But there was a sick sense of satisfaction that coursed through the Acting Grand Sage’s veins when Kaveh had an existential crisis just because he was absolutely clueless to all the hints that pointed to him having a lover. It was entertaining, to say the least, and once again, Alhaitham had the upper hand.

However that satisfaction soon melted into raw jealousy when your hands clasped Kaveh’s bringing them up as you finally worked your charms.

“So then, Mister nuisance roommate, I hope you don’t mind if I ask a moment of your time.”

Kaveh blinked out of his stupor, suddenly becoming flustered when your hands enveloped his, “N-No— I don’t mind… what do you need?”

And like a man about to profess his love to someone, your eyes glimmered as you popped the question;

“Will you be my muse for this month’s project?”

Alhaitham’s hands itched to grab a hold of you and tear you away from his roommate as his eyes glowered and dug into Kaveh’s form with absolute malice and jealousy. Why did you even have to find his mess of a roommate remotely attractive? What even is so ‘beautiful’ about Kaveh that you just had to touch him? Do you even have to be that close to ask him to be your muse? And why do you keep showering him with praises?

Poor Kaveh had little chance to refuse you as you looked at him so expectantly. Letting out a reluctant yes, you absolutely glowed before showering him some more praises, and ecstatically telling him that you will be over Alhaitham’s apartment to discuss further details with him.

And while Alhaitham simmered in his jealousy, he failed to notice Kaveh finally leaving and you coming back to him.

It’s like his vision cleared when he finally felt your arm snake around his waist, pulling him closer to be your side, “Your roommate is rather adorable, dear,” you said, sneaking a kiss to his temple.

Alhaitham scoffed, “I’d rather you not say that while expressing any form of affection to me.” His tone was cold, but even you can feel how utterly upset your dearest love is.

You only laughed before pinching the lean fat on his waist, prompting the stoic man to jolt, “I find your jealousy far more adorable, however.”

“So you were being deliberate earlier?”

“Oh, absolutely not. I just do it so none of the muses I ask can refuse, though my compliments are of utmost sincerity,” you said before flashing Alhaitham that cheeky grin that he found himself admiring for the nth time now. “It’s a good psychological tactic, y’know?”

“At the expense of your lover’s feelings. How crude,” Alhaitham huffed. “You’re going to have to make up for the poor treatment you’ve given to me.”

The sultry grin on your face was enough for Alhaitham to know that he won’t be coming home tonight.

Ah. Kaveh’s keys are still in his pocket.

Oh well.

#originally meant to be a musician reader because i’m absolutely crushing it in the new event’s games #my pride as a rhythm gamer isn’t for naught #btw next up is a kazuha angst #and then a dottore ask from morax anon #and then one long ask from primo anon #will i ever publish the part 2 of that sagau thing i did? yes #genshin impact x male reader #alhaitham x male reader #alhaitham x reader #jhuzen’s stupid one shots

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missmarveledsblog · 5 months ago

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IDiots (dean winchester x reader )

Summary : when reader becomes the victim of a entity Dean is forced to admit feeling that he thought he could keep away in fear of being hurt .

Warning : little angsty mostly fluffy

Shit hitting the fan was an understatement of the century . The boys stood stuck to the ground watching as it loomed over her . He knew it was his fault , he knew they told him it was bad idea and yet he knew better . He knew this stuff more than they did or so he thought. Now he stood frozen while his brother screamed for it to leave her alone , while the woman he's loves in now on the ground out cold while evil lurks over her and it was all his fault . They warned him a week ago and he didn't listen.

It was always the same on case sam and Y/N sat in the kitchen of the bunker laptops on and researching away . " so the story goes a woman Jane Howard was killed by some dude one night , a man by John.. Smith really this has got to be fake .. anyway he was in love with Jane but never told her went on rampage in his madness killing single women some say he now attaches to a woman and if her love doesn't announce himself to her he take her soul to live with him for eternity " she couldn't help laugh at the ridiculousness of it all . " hey maybe I can get slash to admit he knows and loves me " she snorted. " or someone else would grow balls and do it " sam muttered shooting his brother a quick glance . " awh Sammy I love you too .. not like that though but we have our pact still " she teased . " pact? " . " if we're both single by 50 I marry her " sam smiled seeing the jealous glare from his brother . " yup have in writing too , I mean it's on a beer mat but still OK I need to pack up I'll meet you guys in an hour " she giggled heading off to her room . " you think maybe we should ask her sit this out giving she probably going to die before you admit your feelings to her " sam mused . " she not into me dude so let's drop this " he huffed walking off to his own room . " idiots I'm surrounded by idiots " sam face palmed .

Walking out she was standing looking at the brothers pouting up at them. " cas will be fine " Dean rolled his eyes . " but he's a baby " she whined . " he older than three of us combined ... plus Bobby's got him " . " I miss him already " she pouted making his heart beat faster . " go give him another hug " he smiled making her bolt into the bunker . " now if I asked that I'd be told to suck it up " sam teased . " hey Bobby give her special treatment too , plus she clearly pining for the big baby " he pointed out . " well then maybe he'll do what you can't but cas isn't the one she pining for i can definitely tell you that much " sam shot back . " he's a bit better but still sad " she sighed getting into the impala cutting dean asking what his brother ment by that . " come on we can get you some of those candy bars you like on the way " sam smiled brightly at her . " its like your in love with cas " Dean rolled his eyes . " I love all you guys .. some more than other " she whispered looking at him before getting into the car . " idiots " sam exhaled before following.

Pulling up to the motel instead of waking the sleeping woman Dean decided she was too cute to disturb only for him to lift her and carry her in leaving his brother to carry the bags . " yeah course I got it " the younger winchester huffed . Not that his brother listened nor did he care when she held on tight nuzzling her head into his chest letting out a content sigh . Maybe she could love him back like he loved her but then again the self doubt kicked in . She was light and he was just the darkest of dark . A woman like her couldn't love him. She was too special and he was the boy who couldn't even make his own father proud no matter what he did . No a girl like her was made for his brother . Caring sweetheart who would make sure everyone was OK before herself . A smile and laugh that could brighten anyone's day no he would never have a woman love the likes of him , he was sure of it . Placing her gently on the bed he rushed out of the room, only just as he did she smiled in her sleep calling his name . " idiot " sam huffed placing the bags at the near by table .

Driving to the house another woman losing her life what perplexed then was the man admitted he love her yet she still died . " oh no " she gasped . " what is it " sam turned checking her over . " she didn't love him back its why she died " she sniffled . "Great so it like a true loves first kiss but with a entity " Dean growled . " we'll get him don't worry " she patted his shoulder. " hey why don't you sit this one out " sam turned to her. " yeah I mean if he latches on I don't think we could get slash here on time " Dean joked making her eyes roll . " he not my true love though " she blew her nose. "Well im sure cas can come soon then " he didn't mean for it to come out snappy . " you think I love cas like that " she snorted . " I mean your always cuddling him , hate leaving him and well i don't know " he shrugged. " i cuddle sammy too and bobby when he lets me " she deadpanned which wasn't a lie she was a cuddler . " your not in love with cas " he asked. " i love him but not in love with him " she murmured . " idiots " sam grumbled .

they went after the entity it keep messing with her locking her into rooms or pushing her little things it considered as warning leading the brothers to take her from the house and back to the motel. " your sitting this one out " dean slammed the door while sam checked the small cuts the litter her hands after she was pushed into glass. "i'm not letting a bully win " she growled. " your not going " sam said putting the gauze on her hand . " i'm going and where going to kick his ass, i'm going to have a shower " she got off the bed grabbing her clothes before heading to the bathroom . " you need to either tell her or make her sit this one out " sam waited til the shower was on . " why don't you tell her , it's clear your the one she loves " he shot back . " i love her like a sister god you are so blind to what's in front of you , you need to get her to sit it out, he's already feeding on you and she getting hurt " he said holding up the glass shard filled dish . " a guy like me doesn't get with a girl like that ok i am sick of you pushing this " he growled slamming the door . only for sam to look up and see her standing there heartbroken hearing his words. " he didn't mean it the way you think he did " he began but she just grabbed her coat and shoes before heading out the door herself storming past the older winchester . " idiots " sam yelled out at them .

she knew it was stupid , something she was completely regretting the minute she stepped in the house but ever since they took on this case everything went to shit . Maybe a broken heart could take on a broken heart was her stupid reasoning . His words replayed over in her head making her head reel . That was til she was locked in a room trying to get out til she was knocked across the room her phone hitting the ground as dean number came up and answer , he could here her groans and followed by something he could only describe as a disembodied growl . " shit we're coming sweetheart " he called before the line went completely dead. now here they stood stuck while the entity stood over her body sucking and draining the life from her . The fear of losing her was growing stronger then the fear of rejection . "please stop ok take me , i know you don't but take me i will take her place , they world can't lose a woman like that , a woman who would starve rather then let someone go hungry , one who cries at stupid video's online because someone is sad and she can't help , i'd rather you take me then take the woman i love out from this world" he finally felt the words spewn only for her to sit up gasping grabbing the pistol and shooting the entity and the two men being able to move . " i'm sorry " was all she said not that he cared he was stunned , knowing the only reason she was talking now was because in some divine madness meant she loved him like really loved him . she couldn't get another word out before she felt him pull her up and smash his lips to her . " finally ... idiots " sam smiled looking at the pair.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural #sam winchester #castiel #supernatural fic #jensen ackles #jensen fucking ackles #jared and jensen #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine

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niphredil-14 · 11 months ago

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The platonic Leo request got me thinking…

What if, in a romantic scenario of Donnie x reader where they’re Leo’s best friend? Donnie falling for the idiot and reader is the idiot, wingman Leo let’s go.

OOH I LOVE THIS IDEA! Sorry it took me so long, life's been hectic. Warnings: fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Word Count: 1.3k

BAD DIRECTIONS (Rise! Donnie/Reader)

She was convinced that Leo did not in fact live in the sewers, but instead, that his home was a labyrinth that had her completely turned around and lost. Leonardo had given her what had sounded like clear directions to the bathroom, but evidently were not clear enough. She was just about to cave and call Leonardo, when a voice made her pause.

“Hello?” Came from behind her. She turned, to find a turtle standing in the hallway a few feet away from her. She didn’t know Leonardo’s brothers very well, only having spoken to them shortly and infrequently, and not seeing much of them as most of the time she spent with Leo was at her place. Despite the unfamiliarity, if the amount of purple he wore wasn’t a dead giveaway, the various tech he carried on his person definitely was.

“Oh, hi!” She said, slightly startled. “Uhh… Donnie, right?” He nodded in response.

“You’re Leo’s friend, right?” He said their name. She nodded, just the same as he did. “What are you doing just hanging out in the hallway? Did Leo ditch you? That ass.” Donnie said, falling into a slight ramble.

“Oh, no, no, no! He didn’t ditch me.” She said. “I just, um, well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but I got a little lost on my way to the bathroom.” She explained. “I was just about to call him.” Don let out a slight snort, and turned around, starting to walk away.

“Follow me.” Was all he said, not waiting for her to hurry to catch up to him. He led her through twisting, confusing hallways that she did her best to memorize, so as to not get lost again. His strides were long, and she somewhat struggled to keep up. Finally he stopped beside a door, and turned to her. “Here it is.”

“Oh! Thank you!” She said. Don made a soft affirmative hum and began to take a few steps, so she entered the bathroom. When she emerged, she found Donnie standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall scrolling on his phone. At hearing the door swing open, he looked up, and tucked his phone into his pocket. She was evidently confused by the fact that he was still there, and quirked an eyebrow up. Before she could question him, he spoke up.

“Go back in and wash your hands again.” He said, deadpanned and serious.

“I- What? I just did.” She responded.

“Yes, for thirteen seconds, which is insufficient. You should wash for at least twenty seconds to prevent illness. Sing ‘Happy Birthday’ twice.” Flabbergasted, she reentered the bathroom, and rewashed her hands, taking care to intentionally sing obnoxiously loud.

“Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday to you,

Happy Birthday,

Dear Donnie~

Happy Birthday to you!”

With the door being open, there was no resistance for the sound to reach his ears, and he let out a small snort, musing to himself what perfect sense her and Leo’s friendship made. It was endearing to him, in a strange way, her act. And it was slightly frustrating that he knew the same amusement would not be present if it were his brother doing the very same act, instead of the cute girl he was always talking about. From how often Leo spoke about her, Donnie felt like he had already known her well, for quite some time, even though they had not spoken to each other more than four separate times. And deep down, in a part of him that he shoved every thought that he didn’t feel fully prepared to acknowledge or process, there was stored a feeling of slight jealousy surrounding Leo and his best friend. She was clearly quite the character, and Donnie had found himself drawn to her, wishing that perhaps he could grow close to her as well. She had begun to sing the song for a second time.

“Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday-“

“My birthday isn’t for another four months.” Donnie interjected, correcting her.

“Dear Donnie~

Happy – four month early- Birthday to you!”

She had dragged out the last syllable of his name in her song, and had switched from singing to speaking when she said “four month early,” before switching back to singing for the rest of the song. He smiled slightly, and breathed out a silent laugh as he shook his head, which she, luckily for him, did not witness as she was preoccupied drying off her hands. Walking out, she held her hands out to him, palms up.

“Do they meet your standards, oh Lord of Proper Hygiene?” He glanced down at her hands for a moment, and gave a curt nod.

“Yes, they do, Oh Lady of Unnecessary Sass.” She gave a small giggle, that he generously returned. As their laughs quieted, a short silence fell over the two of them as they looked at one another. It did not turn awkward until after a few seconds, after which Donnie coughed to clear his throat, and turned away. “Do you know the way back to Leo’s room?” Her eyes widened, and her cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment.

“Oh, um, no.” He laughed lightly, genially, and motioned with his head for her to follow him.

“I’ll walk you back.”

The journey to Leo’s room didn’t take more than two and a half minutes, but it was filled with conversation that flowed smoothly and naturally. The pair found themselves standing outside of Leo’s door far too soon for either of their liking, but reluctantly, they pulled their conversation to an end, regardless.

“Thanks again for helping me, I know it was a pretty stupid situation on my part.” She giggled to try to mask just how deep her embarrassment ran. He offered her a smile softer than he willingly would to most others he didn’t know all that well, and reassured her.

“The lair was specifically designed to be labyrinthian and confusing, in case any of our enemies were to find it, the odds were against you from the start.” Just as they were about to say their goodbyes, the door swung open, and Leo stood in the entryway with a ridiculously smug look on his face.

“God!” Leo gasped, as if in pain. “That took you ages!” His words were directed at her. “You have got to cut down on the Starbucks.” Her mouth dropped, and fire filled her eyes as she jumped at Leo, swatting at his head.

“Leo, I’m gonna fucking kill you!!” His laughter resounded throughout the room and hallway as they play-fought. When the fight had finished, with Leo yelling,

“Uncle! Uncle!” As she sat atop his shell, beating his head with a pillow, she had turned to the doorway, only to find Donnie had disappeared. It was then, almost as if on cue, that her phone pinged in her pocket. She dropped the pillow, and pulled out her phone. She had received a text from an unsaved number. Opening it up, she found several images had been sent to her, all maps and schematics of varying complexities. After staring for a moment, she put the pieces together and realized that they all depicted the lair. Three bouncing dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, android then she received another text.

Unknown: If the maps are insufficient, and you find yourself lost again, feel free to contact me. -Donatello.

A small smile graced her face as she stared typed a response.

YN: Considering my serious lack of direction and spatial awareness, I’ll probably take you up on that. Thanks, Donnie c:

She was broken out of the spell by Leo’s voice from beneath her.

“So,” He began, dragging out the word. “You and Donnie, huh?” He teased, winking at her, and it hit her.

“Oh my god! You gave me bad directions on purpose!” She screeched, and reached for the pillow again, resuming her assault.

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader

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rpmusingsnmore · 6 months ago

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𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒

feel free to change any pronouns or subjects (or reverse by adding "reverse" to the line).

the lover.

❛ maybe this is the way it's supposed to be. ❜

❛ it's no use. i'll be sick until you fall in love with me. ❜

❛ you're the reason this is happening to me! ❜

❛ i don't expect you to just fall in love with me out of nowhere. ❜

❛ it feels like someone stuffed me full of flower petals that float around my lungs all day. ❜

❛ you're lucky someone loves you back. ❜

❛ i hope you never feel the way i do. ❜

❛ am i going to die unwanted? ❜

❛ i don't even want to love anymore. i have no choice, though. ❜

❛ i haven't been coughing as much. maybe we're getting somewhere. ❜

❛ i'm sorry, okay? i just can't give it up. ❜

❛ yes. i'd rather die. ❜

❛ i won't forget y- them. i won't. ❜

❛ i'm getting the surgery. ❜

❛ don't worry, i won't make a mess. ❜

❛ if you think i'm weak for this, then so be it. ❜

❛ i'm so tired of being sick all the time. ❜

❛ it's called unrequited for a reason. ❜

❛ it is worth it. ❜

❛ i can't get the surgery. ❜

❛ i'm fine, i'm good, it's no big deal. ❜

the loved.

❛ are you sick? ❜

❛ how long has this been going on? ❜

❛ you're obviously not fine. ❜

❛ you've been sick for so long, but you've never told me why. ❜

❛ i'm the reason this is happening to you? ❜

❛ i can't just fall in love with someone like it's nothing. ❜

❛ is that blood? ❜

❛ who is it? ❜

❛ do you want the surgery? ❜

❛ you should get the surgery. ❜

❛ you're getting it removed. ❜

❛ you'll just resign yourself to die? ❜

❛ just tell them! i can't watch you die like this. ❜

❛ anyone who doesn’t love you is a complete idiot. if they don’t love you back, leave them behind. ❜

❛ if it will save your life, i don't know what you're waiting for. ❜

❛ it can't be worth it. ❜

scenes.

[ MEMORY ] for my muse to have gotten the surgery to remove the disease, but losing memory of your muse, the object of their affections.

[ REQUITED ] for a thread in which the disease is cured organically as my muse realises that yours loves them back.

[ TRIAL PERIOD ] for a thread in which your muse attempts to fall in love to save mine from the disease.

[ TWINNING ] for both of our muses to have the disease, believing the other does not love them when they do.

[ CONSEQUENCES ] for my muse to be on their death bed, confessing too little too late.

[ TOTALITY ] for both of our muses to succumb to the disease together, unaware they loved each other.

[ HYPOCRITE ] for your muse to convince mine to get the surgery, while yours refuses.

[ PLEAD ] for my muse to beg yours to love them.

[ GIVING IN ] for my muse to agree finally to get the surgery.

[ UNCOVERED ] for your muse to finally learn about my muse's affliction.

[ ALMOST ] for your muse to save mine by confessing at the last minute.

[ CAUGHT ] for your muse to catch mine coughing up blood and petals.

[ FOUND ] for your muse to find mine semi - conscious, surrounded by petals.

[ VISIT ] for your muse to visit mine in the hospital, where they are being treated.

#mine #sentence starters #inbox meme #roleplay meme #rp memes #roleplay starters #dialogue starters #dialogue prompts #dialogue rp meme #dialogue rp starters #hanahaki rp starter #hanahaki rp meme #hanahaki roleplay starter #hanahaki rp memes

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rogue-durin-16 · 21 days ago

Text

HEAD-TO-HEAD (part II/?)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst splattered with fluff/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, mild allusions to violence? Idk this is surprisingly mild (for now lol)

A/N: in case you couldn't tell, this chapter came out of the notes I had written down for "Poison In Your Coffee". It's one of the snippets I was DYING to flesh out, so here's to a little self-indulgence from time to time. Enjoy<3

Head-to-head masterlist

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

I noticed.

My eyes didn't miss Liebgott's rushed half turn when we were dismissed after our Friday night march. It stood out to me; he didn't wait for anyone, not even Grant or Tipper.

I figured he was just eager to get to the barracks after a long day and didn't think much of it.

At least until our Commanding Officers retreated each to their own quarters, and Talbert hurried to fall into step with Luz, a few feet ahead of me and Shifty. I didn't catch much, but the hushed words 'beaten up' from Tab and 'again' from Luz as the latter tentatively explored the faces surrounding them stirred suspicion in me.

"George." Calling his name was enough to make the two of them slow their pace with mildly concerned faces, allowing me and Shifty to join them.

"You were marching with Liebgott, right?" I nodded in response to Luz's question, Talbert's inquisitive gaze on me. "You saw where he went?"

"Looked like he was headed to the barracks." The way both men scanned the moving crowd of soldiers made me become unsure of my own reply.

"He took a turn." Shifty corrected me, motioning ahead of us before taking off his helmet. "Second on the left."

"What the fuck's his game?" George complained, swinging his rifle over his shoulder. "Malark— hey," he stepped in the ginger's way, making Penkala, Muck and More come to a confused halt. "Mind helping us out?"

"What's wrong?"

"Liebgott's at it again." Tab finally disclosed the obvious, making all of us let out different levels of desperate groans and sighs. "If Lip finds out—"

"Is he tryna get himself kicked out of the Airborne?" Don rhetorically inquired with raised brows. "Where'd he go?"

"Shifty says he turned left. Y/n says the barracks."

More's eyes pivoted from Luz to me. "The barracks? Really?"

"I'm not his babysitter, Alton." I spat, taking off my own helmet to hold it under my arm. "I don't know where the fuck he went."

"Weren't you two marching together?" Muck echoed George's question whilst gesturing at Perconte to join us.

"In case none of you noticed, we don't have the smoothest conversations." I retorted. Just like Talbert was growing tired of covering for Liebgott in front of the other Sergeants, I was growing tired of getting the third degree everytime he disappeared.

"This about Joe?" Perconte chirped in, and without missing a beat, his thumb pointed behind him. "He was in a rush to get to A Company's area."

A flash of realization flashed across George's face, the back of his hand nudging Talbert. "What's his name? Bailey?"

Oh. That one asshole from Able. The one who was double Liebgott's size. Taking a peek among the group sufficed to let me know we all were on the same page.

"To hell with getting kicked out," I blurted out, worry seeping through my words. "he's gonna get himself killed."

"He's an idiot."

Penkala's words were followed by Don's decisive steps. "C'mon, we're no help here."

"Wait," I took a hold of George's sleeve. "you're gonna go to Able's barracks?"

"Got a better idea?"

"Maybe." I mused about it for an instant before striding back. "You guys be careful."

"You're not coming?"

"I'm gonna try the smarter option for a change." I replied to Don's baffled question in a slightly louder pitch before rushing to the Winters' quarters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word had spread faster than a forest fire over the weekend about the incident that never happened.

By the time our friends had found Liebgott on that Friday night, he was being led back into the camp —along with Bailey and three other men from A Company— by Winters, Able's First Lieutenant and a couple of privates who happened to be on patrol duty that night.

The eight boys who had gone looking for him hadn't said a word about what they knew, or how they thought the event had unfolded for Liebgott to come back to his barracks in one piece and with nothing to say.

He didn't get to leave the camp that weekend.

None of the men disclosed anything, yet somehow rumors still ran around; whether or not they carried my name in them was up in the air. Of course, it mattered little to Liebgott, who more often than not found a way to tie things back to me.

This time, though, he happened to be right.

JOE'S P. O. V.

It wasn't the violent swing of the mess hall's door that brought some of the men's attention to me, it was the fact that I stood still at the entrance, scanning the place with intent and how I zeroed in on her before making a beeline across between the packed tables.

"You couldn't mind your own business, could you?!" I didn't need to call out her name for Y/n to look up from her breakfast. The way my hands slammed her table as I leaned on across from it made her jump on her seat.

"I don't know what you're talking about." It was barely a mumble and she was trying to make it sound like a careless response.

"Cut the act. You reported me off camp." I looked away with a bitter sneer at her discomfort, my voice loud enough to draw unwanted attention. "Got my weekend pass yanked because you couldn't help being a prissy."

She shifted in place, trying not to look around too much as she struggled to stay composed. "Maybe you shouldn't have been sneaking around where you don't belong."

"That’s rich, coming from you." I snapped, leaning in for only her and the ones close to hear. "I didn’t think you'd stoop to snitching, Y/l/n."

A part of me had expected to be wrong, so when she struggled to even meet my glare and her voice turned quieter, the anger brewing inside me bubbled to the surface.

"It’s not like you didn’t bring this on yourself." She made an effort to gain control in our conversation, but her fidgeting was giving her away. "Maybe you should think twice before picking fights with people twice your size."

Wait, what?

"How the hell did you know about that?"

"You're not exactly quiet." It was an instant, almost unnoticeable, but she averted her eyes. "Don't you think?"

With suspicion, I followed her sight and found Talbert who, unlike the rest of our nosy company-mates, seemed more interested in his breakfast than in the confrontation I was provoking. "You kiddin' me?"

Another hit to the wooden table on my part visibly shook her, and it dawned on me that she wasn't only uncomfortable— she was uneasy.

"What? You want a thank you?"

"I wanted to have breakfast in peace." She snapped, her emotions tilting more towards anger now.

"And I wanted my weekend pass. Go cry about it."

She jolted up and mirrored my stance. The soldiers around her moved away as if being too close to us would get them caught in the crossfire.

"Don't worry. Next time I'll let them take a swing at you." It took longer than she would have liked for her usual temperament to start up. "See if I care."

"That's what you should've done, instead of tampering with someone else's business."

She squinted at me with an irritation that reflected mine. "I think you're just mad someone had to bail you out of trouble."

"And I think you don't know how to stay in your goddamn lane." She had that piercing look in her eyes; the one that only showed up when I had her on the ropes. "I didn't ask for your help."

"Okay, you got your little moment," She grabbed her tray, threw a leg over the bench she had been sitting on. "now leave me the fuck alone."

I scoffed and, unwilling to let her walk away for whatever reason I myself didn't fully understand, I stalked around the table, only to be stopped by Toye's arm, lazily raised to block my path.

"why don't you sit down, alright?" His raspy voice sounded tired.

"Yeah, knock it off, Joe." Malarkey jumped it, a mild concerned on his demeanor.

"Piss off." I countered, smacking Joe's hand away and resuming my walk.

By the time I reached her, the tray had already been returned to its place and she was about to exit the mess hall.

I huffed, trailing behind her. "You don't get to walk away on me—"

The words were knocked off me when she halted dead in her tracks, did a half turn and took a step forward. "After the bullshit you just pulled," her index finger dug into my chest. "I get to do whatever I want." I opened my mouth but no retort came out of it before she clapped back, as if she was reading my mind. "You don't need my help. Noted. I'll make sure to remember that next time you get a whole squad running around to stop you from getting beaten up."

"I didn't say—"

"That you needed their help either, yeah. You're such a tough guy, aren't you?" Unlike me, she wasn't rising her voice, which was just as infuriating to me as the bite in her sentences. "You're a fucking idiot, that's what you are."

I didn't have the chance to follow her out; Lieutenant Winters crossed paths with her, getting a quiet salute from a flustered Y/n before his inquisitive, unreadable gaze fell on me.

"Liebgott." It was a warning disguised as a greeting. I wasn't that stupid.

"Sir." I repeated Y/n's salute and took Winters arched brow as a cue to sit down at the nearby table.

Guarnere, having breakfast by my side, muttered something under his breath after giving me a side glance.

"What?"

"C'mon Joe," Luz sighed, turning from an adjacent table to make eye contact with me. "You really think you would've won that fight?"

"She made you a favor." Smokey clarified.

"She's got no right to make that call." I grumbled, stealing a bite from Perconte's plate, earning a muffled complaint from him.

"Jesus Christ, Lieb." Muck complained, shaking his head. "Bailey could deck you any day. She's looking out for you. We're looking out for you."

"Yeah, can you think about the rest of us for once?" I rolled my eyes at Luz's tell-off. "You know the amount of crap we'd get from Sobel if he ever finds out?"

"Alright, that's enough." I dismissed them with a grimace. "I get it. 'M sorry for the trouble. Jesus."

"Good." Penkala nodded, pointing at the door. "Now apologize to Y/n."

"Don't hold your breath, Penk." I retorted before standing up to grab a proper breakfast for myself before drill training.

Maybe the boys were right and I did owe her an apology. Not that she would ever get it, though.

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