#was going to treat it like the prompt it is and write a thing for each but brain said no so you get basic descriptions =P

[rosenclaws]

Oh boy! First of all-congratulations!! You're doing such wonderfull job! And I love your work ❤️ I have 2 promts if you don't mind. Just pick the one you like better and feel more comfy to write (boths are fluff couse im sucker for fluff)

1. Leopold Mountbatten “If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, holy shit, you’d realise how much I’ve fallen for you.” + countryside/fairytale?

2. Wolverine with simply comforting him after really nasty nightmare when he's calling his...mama in his dreams to comfort him? (Idk i always wanna hug this poor baby)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ love youuu

Chance || Leopold Mountbatten x Reader (Fairytale AU)

“If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, holy shit, you’d realize how much I’ve fallen for you.” + Fairytale AU

wc: 1.9k (OOPS)

a/n: Hello!! I love both of these prompts so much I'm gonna write both! This is prompt one! I also got carried away and it turned more into a oneshot oops!

As a child you dreamed of being a princess. Looking up at the big castle from your small bedroom in the attic. Your head was full of silly things. Dreaming that one day you'd be there in a pretty dress with a handsome prince. Growing up you the day dreams would follow you. People found you strange, always catching you humming and singing. You were far too kind, too generous.

Eventually reality had caught up with you. You were a peasant and the cruel children of the nobles made sure you knew it. They treated you like dirt. Like you were nothing, not even worth a second glance. Your dreams were slowly crushed. It was a harsh truth to swallow but then your mother died and you were left to take over the seamstress business as only a 16 year old.

Soon the only remnants of your childhood hopes only existed when you dreamed. They were silly anyways, you told yourself that as you went to work day in and day out. Thankfully work was flourishing.

The announcement of ball in the palace spread like fire. This prince was to be there and he was meant to be married soon. The ball was clearly a chance to meet the prince and impress him. The excitement was clear. Though they treated you poorly even the noblest of people couldn't deny that you were the best seamstress in all of the kingdom.

Orders upon orders flooded your small shop. Beautiful ballgowns that you could never afford in your wildest dreams. You couldn't help but feel the expensive fabric as you worked. Sometimes your mind would drift back to your old fantasies but you snapped yourself out of them. With only weeks away before you were panicking thinking of all the work you had to do.

When the bell of your shop rang one day you were ready to decline whoever had entered. Except when you looked up you were met with a very handsome man. He had a massive tear in his expensive looking coat and a nasty bruise under his eye.

"Sir! Are you alright?" You rushed to his aid. A sweet but pained smile on his face.

"My apologies, My name is Leo." He bowed his head and put his hand to his chest.

"I do not wish to inconvenience you but I am afraid I had no where else to go."

Leopold didn't meant to cause you any trouble. In fact he meant to lay as low as he could. The castle was boring him to death and the pressure of the royal ball was becoming too much for him. He just needed some fresh air. So he snuck out and spent the day in the town. Though he was to be king he was sheltered all his life and he made the mistake of wandering into the wrong part of town.

His clothes made him stick out amongst the crowds. When he saw two men threatening a young shopkeeper he jumped into action. He's skilled with a sword but with his fists he is not as trained. Leaving him with a bruise he wouldn't know how to explain to his father.

Still they left the shopkeeper alone but now he didn't know what to do. Stumbling into your shop by chance. You were, gorgeous. He watched you as you fixed his jacket and took care of his eye. Your hands were gentle and your smile was so sweet. But most shocking was that you had no clue who he was. No special treatment or fake words. He longed for this.

"Please, let me pay you for your services." He offers, though he has no money on him now he will pay you back.

"Nonsense, I'm happy to help." He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

"Thank you darling, I promise I will repay your kindness." The bell tower chimes and he knows he's running out of time. He must return home.

"Goodbye." He hurries out of your shop and you watch him go. A small frown on your face as you hope to see him again one day.

To your shock he returned the very next day. With more money than necessary in a fancy pouch. You refused to take any of it. Despite his protests he eventually relented. Instead he asked to help. Leopold wasn't the best with sewing but he would watch his mother do so all the time. The orders were looming over your head and you did need the help.

You grew closer, learning things about Leo as you worked. He was kind, a true gentleman and he loved to draw. While you worked you told him about your life. Smiling through the stories of your mother, through the childhood hardships. When Leo would prick his fingers you would always patch him back up.

The weeks flew by until it was the day before the ball. As you handed our your orders you couldn’t help but be overcome with sadness. Not for the ball but for the worry that Leo would stop coming once your orders were finished. The door chimes and you perk up as you see Leo.

“Hello, I’m afraid I have nothing left to work on.” You tell him sadly.

“That is alright. I did not come for the work.” There's a hint of nervousness in his eyes as he sits on a stool.

“Are you going to the ball?” He asks and you laugh sadly.

“No, The ball is not a place for someone like me.” Leo’s eyes sadden and he moves closer to you.

His hand cupping your face gently. His piercing hazel eyes are enchanting. Like a spell you never want to wake up from. You were falling in love with him.

"You could accompany me." He offers. Biting his lip as he prays you say yes.

This is what he wants, not someone who only wants him for his title or because he's the prince. He wants something real, something meaningful and that's what he has with you. At least he prays you feel the same way.

“Leo I-“

“My prince! What on earth are you doing here?” A royal guard barges through the doors and you take a step back. Eyes wide in shock as you process what you’ve just heard.

“Prince?” Leopold looks guilty as he tries to stammer out an explanation. They must have followed him. He hadn't been subtle with his adventures and it looks like they finally found him.

“Darling I apologize I-“ The guard grabs him by the shoulder, forcing him out of the shop despite Leo’s protests. He's calling your name, trying to fight the guards but to no avail.

You’re stunned to silence as you watch him leave. The prince? This whole time he was the prince. You closed your shop and spent the rest of the night upstairs. It’s not fair.

You thought you had something special. That you didn’t need the fairytale life when you had Leo but it turns out it was all a lie. Was this simply a game to him? Bored of the castle so he decided to toy with the life of a peasant? You were utterly heartbroken.

The ball passes and you choose to ignore any talk of. Leo doesn’t return and it’s for the best as you reopen your small shop. Business was slow and people went back to treating you like dirt.

It was a rude wakeup call from the last few weeks with Leo but those were in the past now. There’s a loud knock at your door and you choose to ignore it. The shop is closed today.

Still the knocking persists and you become fed up. Such rude behavior! You walk downstairs only to find Leo at the door. You open it and usher him inside before anyone else can see him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask harshly. He seems taken back for a moment.

“I came to see you.”

“Well what can I do for you my prince.” Your voice is void of any emotion as you address him. Even looking at him is painful now and as upset with him as you are he is still your soon to be king.

“Don’t. Don’t call me that please.” He hates it. He is your Leo.

“I am so deeply sorry for not telling you my true identity but I was afraid. You saw me as someone normal and I wanted more.” He tries to explain.

“So what? Was I just a plaything to you? A mirage of normalcy that you were going to drop the second you got bored?” You ask with tears in your eyes, anger flooding your senses.

“No! Never. Please you have to understand it started as an escape but the more I time I spent with you the more I longed to be by your side. You're what I want darling.”

You are the moon and the stars that light his path, the breath of fresh air. Leopold met you by chance but now that he knows you he cannot let you pass him by.

“Do you even know what you’re saying? You are the crowned prince. You will be King. I am nothing compared to your status, your position and to tease me with such a life is cruel!" Leopold can feel his heart breaking at the sight of your tears.

"My love," He cups your face and wipes away the tears.

"Please, do not cry." He presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You close your eyes as you try and commit this moment to memory. What its like to be held by him, to have his lips on yours.

“If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, you’d realize how much I’ve fallen for you.” He confesses. Your heart leaps, his eyes shine with sincerity as he ghosts his lips over yours again. Silently begging for another kiss.

"Leo..." You want him, you want to give in but there's so much in your path.

"Don't think about it, just focus on me. I love you. Status means nothing to me when all I want is your love. So please, make me the happiest man in the kingdom." He lets go of your face and kneels down. Revealing a box with the prettiest ring you had ever seen. He was serious about this. He wants no one else by his side for the rest of his life.

"Oh Leo, Yes yes yes!" You grab his face and smash your lips to his, Leo groans as the kiss deepens. You're desperate and apart of you is afraid to open your eyes, wondering if he'd disappear when you do. He wraps his arms around you and dips you down. Lips moving in sync as you get lost in each other.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." He whispers as he peppers kisses along your jaw. He's your prince, your childhood dream coming to take you away. He slips the ring onto your finger and you bask in its beauty.

"I love you too Leo." He grins so wide it makes you forget all your worries.

His eyes so full of love and hope that you decide you'd follow him anywhere. Hand in hand he whisks you away, promising to love you forever and you believe him. Your dreams were coming true and you couldn't be happier it's with him.

Your prince, your hope, your love.

[elixirfromthestars]

Oh Vinny, college Bucky will always have my heart!! 🥹❤️ And seeing the prompts you used I just knew I was in for the fluffiest treat 🤭🩷🩷

All my feelings under the cut 🤭💕

First off, if Bucky was my roommate I would’ve fallen in love instantly, no hesitations 😌🩷

Bucky's arm is wrapped around you, his warm body pressed against your back as his lips leave a trail of soft kisses over your neck and shoulder. From the moment you two started officially dating, he has made it his mission to wake you up this way every day, and so far, he's succeeded every time.

^ Umm can I please be woken up like this everyday? 💗💗💗 I’m not a morning person, but if I got Bucky kisses every morning then I’d become a morning person so quick!!! 🫶🏼

I’m a sucker for terms of endearment!! ❤️ Angel, princess, etc like yes please keep them coming!! 🥰 The reader and Bucky are just too cute in this like, this fluff is so sweet I’m about to get cavities 🤭🩷🩷

-> Also pumpkin spice pancakes are a need right now ☕️🍁

"What else do I need when I have my whole world in my arms? Unless you're offering to come back to bed with me, in which case I definitely need you to do that!" You roll your eyes playfully as you chuckle, knowing he's always looking for ways to get you back in bed to spend the entire day doing nothing but making love.

^ I wouldn’t object 🤭🩷 Like… 👀✨

Surprising him with a pumpkin patch date is the cutest thing ever!! 💗 Especially because he’s never been to one and the reader wants to tell Bucky I love you in a special way like—AHHH 🥹❤️❤️ And the way he gets all excited 🥺💕

There are a few food stands that sell the most delicious pumpkin and apple treats, as well as a hot chocolate stand, different games having to do with pumpkins, a maze built out of pumpkins, and last but not least, a patch to pick your pumpkin to take home for carving.

^ Can I go here?? 😭❤️ I didn’t get go to any fall festivals or events, so I’m so jealous of these two 🥺🍂🤎

I love that they were able to say I love you to each other in a moment of pure happiness 🥹🩷 Too cute!!!!! Vinny, this was so sweet, so fluffy, and it’s got me all giggly and kicking my feet 🤭💗💗 Thank you so much for participating in my writing challenge with this wonderful piece!!! 🩷🩷🩷

Pumpkin Spice And Everything Nice

Pairing → College Student! Boyfriend! Bucky Barnes x College Student! Partner! Gender Neutral! Reader

Total Wordcount → 2.2K

Summary → Falling in love with your roommate, Bucky, has been one of the best things ever to have happened to you, and he’s showing you every single day how much he loves you. Today, you’ll turn the tables around by taking him on a surprise date after he tells you he’s never been to a pumpkin patch. Together, you will make some memories you will cherish forever, and a tradition might also be born from it.

Tags & Warnings → Canon divergence, college au, roommate au, roommates turned lovers, domestic bliss bursting the seams of this story, implied lovemaking.

Story Rating → Teen

Author’s Note → This story is written for a writing challenge hosted by @elixirfromthestars! This story is inspired by the Stud & Smartie universe, written by the lovely @navybrat817. I have, of course, tried to give my spin to the story, but I believe in giving credit where credit is due, so thank you so much for inspiring this story, Navy! 💜

Writing Prompts @anyfandomfluffbingo → ”Come back to bed.” @elixirfromthestars → College au | “No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.” | “What else do I need if I have my whole world in my arms?” | “I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest.” @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition → Food coma @fandom-free-bingo Medical Edition → ‘I always want you to’ | “I’m here.” | Singing in the shower

Tag List → If you’d like to be tagged in my stories, you can add yourself to my tag list here.

Falling in love with your roommate may have been the best thing ever to have happened to you, apart from starting your new, exciting life on the other side of the country. Even though your parents have always given you everything your heart desired, the one thing you always missed was the freedom to explore the world, and even though moving to New York isn’t exactly the other side of the world, it still felt like a dream come true to move out of the small town you used to call home. Now, your home is your roommate and boyfriend, Bucky.

For the past few weeks, the weather in New York City has changed into your favorite season, and the changing colors are making you feel happier than ever. Autumn has always been the time of year that made you feel the happiest, as cozy days at home with hot chocolate and movie nights with rain in the background have calmed your mind down on days when you needed it most. It also means your favorite activity of the year is returning: visiting a pumpkin patch and enjoying as many pumpkin-related treats as you can handle in one day.

The rain is softly tapping against the window as you’re curled up under the covers of your boyfriend’s room - your bed hasn’t seen any sign of life in a little over a month, as you’ve practically moved into his bedroom, seeing that it’s the larger of the two in your apartment. Even though you lived there first, and he became your roommate about a month into your first semester, you moved into the smaller bedroom on your first day, decorating it into a warm, cozy place that now has turned into your reading room.

Bucky’s arm is wrapped around you, his warm body pressed against your back as his lips leave a trail of soft kisses over your neck and shoulder. From the moment you two started officially dating, he has made it his mission to wake you up this way every day, and so far, he’s succeeded every time. Your days have started better, and you’ve also noticed your sleeping habits have improved since sharing a bed with him. However, it also means that your habit of getting up early has gone out the window now that you want to spend as much time together as possible.

“How do you look even more beautiful every morning we spend together, Angel?”

In Bucky’s words, you can feel the heat surging throughout your body, and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as he compliments you. Without a second thought, you turn around in his hold, gently kissing the tip of his nose once you’re comfortable.

“I’m not sure. It must be because of how happy you make me, Bucky,” you tell him, your fingers trailing softly over his cheekbone. At this, it’s his turn to smile widely, his cheeks reddening at your sweet words. The love between you two is filling your entire apartment, threatening to burst at the seams, and you’ve been wondering for a while if it’s too soon to say it, but you also know you won’t be able to hold it in much longer. And this is precisely why you have planned a special date today.

“I think it’s about time we get up and get ready for my plans today; we still have to drive a little over an hour to get to our destination,” you tell him, but he shakes his head slightly at the thought of leaving the warm nest you two have created. His eyes meet yours lovingly, his entire face softening as he pulls you in for a gentle kiss that takes your breath away.

“No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed,” Bucky whispers, his deep, gravelly voice finding its way deep into your body and soul as it often does. He could tell you anything he wants, and you’d happily gobble it up as long as it means you getting to hear it as much as possible. A soft, almost inaudible moan slips past your lips as you remember what he told you yesterday as you two were making love in this very same bed, your eyes slipping shut at the thought of it.

“What’s on your mind?” Bucky then asks, despite knowing exactly what’s going through your head. Instead of answering, you pull the duvet over your head to hide from him, and he laughs loudly as he pulls you against his chest, where you happily make yourself comfortable again. Your following words sound a bit muffled to your boyfriend, but they make him smile nevertheless.

“I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest. It’s comforting,” you tell him, and you two stay like this for a little longer until you really have to get out of bed. By the time Bucky is in the shower belting out one of his go-to shower songs, and you’re making breakfast - pumpkin spiced pancakes with maple syrup - the rain has finally stopped, and the sun is starting to appear, giving you hope for the day to turn beautiful.

The warm smell of spices fills the air as your boyfriend comes out of his room, fully dressed and his hair styled in the usual way. His cheeks are still red from the hot shower as he walks into the kitchen, ready to get more cuddles in before breakfast. As you feel his long, strong arms wrapping around your waist, you sink into his hold, his cologne hanging in the air and the spices you used in the pancakes.

“Something smells good,” he says as he puts his head on your shoulder, peeking over at the growing pile you’ve already created. A smile brightens your face as you lean into your boyfriend’s hold, butterflies in your stomach running rampant at the simple touch. Sometimes, it still feels unreal for you to be together, and this is one of those moments, but you cherish every second as if it might be the last.

“Thank you,” you whisper to your boyfriend as you concentrate on flipping the pancake. A satisfied hum is in the air as you appreciate its golden brown color.

“Now, before I go and finish the pancakes, is there anything else you need from me?” you ask with a teasing hint to your voice, but the answer that came from your boyfriend is something you wouldn’t have expected him to say, instead going for something like whipped cream or extra syrup. He doesn’t disappoint, though.

“What else do I need when I have my whole world in my arms? Unless you’re offering to come back to bed with me, in which case I definitely need you to do that!” You roll your eyes playfully as you chuckle, knowing he’s always looking for ways to get you back in bed to spend the entire day doing nothing but making love.

“If I didn’t have something special planned for today, I would have gone back to bed with you, but I’ve been working on today’s plans for nearly a month, and it seems like a waste to let it go by without a second thought,” you tell him softly after turning in his arms, your hands lying on his shoulders.

“In that case, I’m sticking to your plans today, Angel. I wouldn’t want to disappoint my princess,” he tells you, which has a wave of heat coursing through your veins. Bucky leans in to kiss your lips softly, your eyes slipping shut as he does. When he pulls away, you follow him to get more kisses, and he happily gives them before letting you finish the pancakes and setting up some plates and cutlery on the kitchen island where you two have breakfast together nearly every morning.

“Bucky? Where are you?!” you ask again as you walk through your apartment, ready to go but unable to find your boyfriend. It’s like he’s hiding from you without meaning to do so, and when you finally hear his voice, you let out a breath of relief you weren’t aware you were holding in.

“I’m here, Angel,” he yells from the bathroom attached to your now-shared bedroom. His head pokes around the corner as you walk into the room, plopping down a small bag on the bed before walking over to him and pecking him on the cheek.

“Are you ready to go?” you ask him, and he nods with a broad smile, excitement flowing through his body as he does. How you look up at him has him softening, his neck bending to capture your lips with his. It doesn't take long for the two of you to be in your car, singing along loudly to your favorite music while enjoying some snacks you brought in preparation for your date.

Once you're nearing your destination, Bucky is increasingly curious about what you will do. So far, you have given him practically nothing to work with other than saying you're going somewhere he's never been before, and he's still wracking his brain over what it could possibly be.

"I think it's unfair that you're not giving any hints, Angel; how am I supposed to know where we're going if you're not saying anything?" A slight pout on his lips makes you chuckle as you glance over briefly, and your butterflies inside are again going wild.

"I think it's entirely fair because you always surprise me with the most romantic dates, so today, I will give you a taste of your medicine. It might not be as romantic as you leaving rose petals everywhere before cooking me a fancy dinner and taking me to bed afterward, but I'm sure it'll be a close second."

As Bucky looks outside after your comment, a small smile tugging at his mouth, he suddenly spots a large sign for a pumpkin patch, and it all clicks.

"You're taking me to a pumpkin patch, right?!" The excitement is audible as his voice raises slightly near the end. Not too long ago, he confessed to you that he had never been to a pumpkin patch while growing up, so today, you'll change that. After a few hours of research, you found one that's supposedly amazing, and even though it's a nearly three-hour car ride away, you're more than willing to drive to see his first reaction to visiting a pumpkin patch.

"Wait-" he says, narrowing his eyes at you, "- you've been giving hints for a while, huh? The fall decorations, pumpkins appearing in our apartment, the pumpkin pancakes..." As he pieces everything together, you can't help but feel proud of being able to go through this experience with him.

"Hm-hmm."

The rest of the car ride, you two discuss every hint you've dropped, even the ones he didn't pick up on, and when you arrive, it's like heaven's gates have opened based on your boyfriend's expression. He takes you everywhere, eyes growing wide as the two of you take your time taking everything in.

There are a few food stands that sell the most delicious pumpkin and apple treats, as well as a hot chocolate stand, different games having to do with pumpkins, a maze built out of pumpkins, and last but not least, a patch to pick your pumpkin to take home for carving.

The happiness in his eyes is childlike in the best possible way, and he can't stop squeezing your hand in excitement as he takes a moment to stop at every stand and game, wanting to try everything.

"Would you like me to buy you a treat of my choice?" you ask him as you stand in front of a stand that sells countless types of pumpkin—and apple-flavored pastries, as well as drinks such as apple cider and pumpkin-spiced lattes.

"I always want you to choose something for me, Angel. You have the best taste in everything related to baked goods. I'm happy to end the day in some sort of a food coma if you keep choosing these amazing treats," he says, and your mouth curls into a smile as you order two warm apple turnovers and a large slice of a classic pumpkin pie to share. Bucky gets you both a cup of hot chocolate from the stand directly next to it, and once you've found a comfortable spot to enjoy your treats, you're happily diving in.

"Bucky, I have something to tell you-"

"I'll let you finish in a moment, but first, I must tell you something, Angel. I cannot thank you enough for taking me here! The weather is fantastic, the treats are heavenly, and most importantly, it made me realize how much I love you."

As he says the words, you're overwhelmed with emotions, tears brimming at your waterline as they sink in. Knowing that he feels the same about you and loves you is a feeling you could only dream of, but knowing it's true has your heart beating out of your chest from pure excitement.

"I love you too, Bucky," you whisper, followed by a kiss that seals your words. They're finally in the universe, and you couldn't be happier. Out of all the things you thought would come out of going to college, you never in a million years falling in love with your roommate would be one of those things.

Even though your life may not always have been the most exciting, you're now looking forward to the excitement and love Bucky will bring from here on out, starting with going to a pumpkin patch every year to relive the moment you're currently experiencing.

Masterlist → Bucky Barnes

GIF: Source → All the other graphics are made by @vintagebuckybarnes

[vroombeams]

ARHFHAHFHRHDAHRHD trick or treat?

treat time treat time!! sometimes i like to just write a bunch of stupid minific directly into the chat box in my dms with @dumbf1sketches and we were talking about mark’s old man texting habits and well. here is some of that

There's a longer pause this time. No little typing bubble, just a stretch of silence that has Mark fidgeting a bit in his chair. He's not got the wildest of imaginations, needs a bit of prompting to get going. Inspiration. But it's not like Oscar's a woman. Not any of the women Mark's ever been with, anyway, the ones who'd send naughty photos in sexy underwear. 

So the pause is a little bit tense, until the next message does come through, and Mark gets a bit lightheaded. It's a cliche to say all of the blood in his brain rushes south, but it does.

Oscar, stood in front of a mirror. He's in a tee—one of Mark's!—and, well. 

Sexy underwear. Sexy women’s underwear.

Mark commits what he’s pretty sure the kids are calling zoom crimes.

The photo isn’t the clearest thing ever to have existed. The more Mark zooms the less clear it gets, but it’s enough to get a crumb or two of detail. The lacy bits cutting across the very tops of Oscar’s thighs. The shiny-soft fabric, the swell of his dick tucked into a tidy package of blue silk. 

Mark types and sends, Wow..

It’s pretty lacklustre as far as responses go. To be fair, Mark’s brain has shrivelled up in favour of giving his dick the reins for a bit.

Glowing endorsement thanks

[athanasia-things]

Warning ⚠️ ⚠️ miscarriage ⚠️ ⚠️

Writing prompt?

This is not organised beautifully, and I'm not really a writer type, and this needs a lot of work

Athanasia is 22 years old after having a miscarriage and having a rampage

Dick recalling Talias miscarriage: Talias, after her miscarriage, is different; she's not angry or upset; she doesn't really do much; she just laid there in bed awake but unresponsive; if B does not feed her, she goes days without eating anything, and a few months go bye, then she's suddenly dolled up and saying she's leaving Bruce. 

Athanasia to her mom

Why does it hurt so much (clutching her chest)? What did I do to deserve this? I paid my price in prison. Why know? 

The only reason that you got over your own miscarriage is because grandfather gave you Damian; he created him so that you would get out of bed, and he intentionally made him look like Father because grandfather knew Father made you happy because he doesn't want to see you hurting, and that's why he's your favourite. 

Bruce is having flashbacks when Talia won't get out of bed and won't eat, and he has to beg her to eat because she won't, and now he has to watch his daughter suffer the same thing, but unlike Talia, who's just like a doll, Athanasia is different; she's constantly having panic attacks, throwing things around, and lashing out at people. Two different ways to express the pain, but the same pain. 

Damian realises the reason his mother treats him better than his siblings is because of his mother's miscarriage and that he was created by his grandfather to fill the whole that was created by his mother's miscarriage. 

So I wrote something cause I was tired after spending 2 days at the hospital accompanying my aunt from her first chemo

Can someone make a fic of this 😔

Is this considered writing promt?

[daydreaming-ace]

Do you ever think about how Susie would give gifts to people?

How she would focus on practicality, rather than aesthetics?

How Magolor repeatedly thanks her for the tool kit she gave him as he tells her about the projects he used its array of instruments on? He always invites her to join him, even if she doesn't know what he's talking about.

Or how every time she's on the Halberd, Sailor Dee runs up to hug her as she rambles about the new hand mixers Susie gave her. The Sailor always drags her away before Meta Knight can protest, leading her on a tasty adventure.

Or how Taranza always gives her a call, updating her on the progress of his plants thanks to the resources she gave him? He hasn't talked about Joronia recently, but he lets her talk about her father.

Or how Kirby is oh-so happy with the pencil sharpeners she has given them, excited about the next art project they can complete without wasting precious time? Every time they talk, she receives a drawing showing her and her friends all spending time together.

Do you think she cherishes those moments? Knowing her friends will never forget her, as they use her gifts every day?

.

.

.

One day, do you think she would worry about her friends forgetting about her? That, if she hadn't given them anything useful they would ditch her?

.

.

.

If she called her friends out of the blue, would they respond?

She thinks they would appreciate the returned gesture.

So she does.

[damianosismyking]

So you have an au about damen being abusive with laurent ?????

Please let me know more?? Any hcs or thoughts or anything pls

The capri fandom needs some dark aus fr

~🦌🌺

hello my darling!

I've been gone so long that I have no idea when you sent this and I'm deeply sorry for that!

I came up with the idea for an AU in which Damen's abusive way back in 2019/2020 (2021?) and to say I was a different person altogether back then is an understatement. I also haven't re-read the books in a long while so I can't say I recall everything I had imagined for this fic to begin with BUT!, I've got some fuzzy thoughts stored in the back of my mind that may satisfy some of the crave for Dark Damianos (a concept deeply slept on in my honest opinion but with how much people like to hate on him for free, it's best if we keep it sleeping lol).

DISCLAIMER: in my very private opinion, Damen has a natural darkness to his character that I find appealing (or would be appealing if I wasn't a coward) to explore. Those are the lenses through which I approach the abusive patterns he could come to develop in a relationship with an already emotionally/psychologically vulnerable Laurent. And also in my very private opinion, Laurent is a vulnerable character (for all reasons we as a fandom dwelled on to the point of exhaustion, but, most of all, in relation to how he sees and thinks of Damen — in terms not only of admiration but almost adoration, just as he did with his brother).

We all rememeber the scene at the end (?) of PG when Laurent is stepping on Damen's toes by saying bad things regarding his family and how Damen loses his temper and hits Laurent hard enough to draw blood. The guards step in to arrest Damen for hurting the prince and Damen takes full blame for doing it without showing a single bit of remorse whatsoever. Laurent is the one to talk his guards down from arresting Damen by pinning the blame of being assaulted on himself and that is it.

This idea (of an AU that never came to be) was forged mostly on the side of Damen's character that has a tendency to jump believe he is always right in the assessments he makes and proceed to never question the truth behind his own reasoning. And on the side of Laurent's character that always blames himself for every bad thing that has ever happened to him despite his own helplessness, and nurtures an unhealthy need for a role model to hold on to — once his brother, now his lover.

I'm going to leave all my thoughts for this AU bellow the cut, in case some people may find the matter too upsetting to read about. Trigger warnings for domestic, physical and psychological abuse, obviously! Proceed at your own accord and don't come whinning later🫰

so putting two and two together:

Damen is prone to angry outbursts or just violence in general. We see in more than one occasion that it doesn't take much for his 'bad side' to come out, which is a characteristic a lot of aggressors in this very patriarcal society we live in also showcase. And as their universe is ALSO incredibly patriarcal, this would check out.

As aforementioned, one of the most significative intances of Damen's violence is the day (after he had already slept with Laurent, after he admitted to himself he was in love with Laurent) where he he baits into Laurent's provocations and hits him.

Laurent's edge, I personally believe, though attenuated as it may be by the end of the cicle of abuse he endured all the way from his late childhood throughout his adolescence, will continue to be in place. It was wired into him as a survival mechanisms and old habits die hard. Whenever he is overwhelmed or any of his emotions slip from his iron-cast grip, he will likely spit fire and try and hurt whoever is within his reach.

Honeymoon phase being over, let's say the kingdoms were in fact merged (not going to get into any of that). Let's say Damen is the king of Vere as much as Laurent is the king of Akielos. Let's say their troups, their guards, palace servants — they are all unbiased and answer to both Laurent and Damen as their true kings equally.

Let's say Damen and Laurent continue to get at each other's throats. Lets's say they still got plenty to disagree upon and that their personalities continue to make them butt heads. Let's say their grudges, though they have agreed to leave the past be in the past, hold and come up again. An underlying resentment inate to their love. There's a lot of tension that I can see surrounding L/D's relationship. If you don't believe that it's fine, if you don't see it, that's more than okay. But I'm asking you to bear with me here.

They are having a heated argument in their palace about something that wasn't (shouldn't be) personal, but all of a sudden is. Damen says something that offsets a chain reaction in Laurent and he becomes a boy in selfdefense mode resorting to the good old habit of pushing Damen's weak spots just for the pleasure of making him angry and miserable. Damen has had a long day, he is weary, he is fed-up with all the kyroi, all the councelors making demands and telling him how to do his job. Laurent says the wrong thing at the wrong time and a moment later he is on the floor, with his hand on his cheek touching the burning spot where Damen slapped him. He bit his tongue in the impact and he can feel the blood in his mouth which he swallows.

There are no guards that come in this time, because they know better than to step into their king's quarrels. Damen tells himself it was Laurent who pushed him too far, he didn't mean to do it. Laurent agrees — Damen would never have done that if Laurent himself hadn't asked for it. Damen was good. He's only ever been good. He doesn't do anything without a good reason. Laurent is the one who fucks things up and pushes people too far. They make up.

Next time isn't that different. Nerves were high for a thousand different reasons. Laurent maybe got up from the wrong side of the bed. They argue. Damen pisses him off so he goes on to piss him off in return — just to give him a taste of what that feels like. In the back of his mind he remembers what happened last time they argued but he brushes it off as a mistake. Damen wouldn't dare to make the same mistake twice.

Then Damen does. And just like the other time Laurent loses his footing from the strength of the blow. His eyes tear from the pain but they don't fall. Damen is fumming over him, telling him how Laurent pushes him over the edge. Damen, who is such a just, charming, fair king. A much better king than Laurent is, with his head in place at all times in a way Laurent's own never is. If he lost his temper, it was because he was forced into it.

Laurent is the one who went too far again; Damen simply reacted to it. He stands and tells Damen he was wrong for saying the things he said. He shouldn't have. Damen agrees; Laurent shouldn't have. They make up.

Every time Damen is forced to loose his temper with Laurent he get angrier with Laurent and becomes a little wilder. Laurent should not make him keep doing it! He doesn't mean to do it! When the anger subdues, after they make love, in the morning after, Damen shows Laurent the tokens of the love he still has for him — a new mare of an excellent breed for Laurent's private stables, a new imported book he would like for his personal library, a new delicacy their cooks learns to make as sweet as a human can handle just the way Laurent likes it.

Damen is a good lover. Most of the time. If only Laurent stopped bringing out his bad side.

Laurent understands how every time Damen hits him it's his own fault. He tries to stop himself from causing their arguments but he can't. He always ends up saying the wrong thing, he always disappoints Damen somehow and though he can keep his stance straight and his face void, deep down he's terrified he will eventually drive Damen away.

After the loss of his entire family, after the death of Auguste, of living so many years under the sadistic regime of his uncle, Damen is everything Laurent has. And Laurent, warped as he is by nature, tainted and wrong and bad at his very core, doesn't deserve him. He knows he doesn't deserve Damen, who is so honorable, so good a leader, so righteous and mighty. But he wants Damen and he wants him to stay. He wants to be good for him and for Damen to think he is good.

So when the slapping evolves into punching, Laurent searches his own words, his own actions for where the fault lies. And always he finds it. The exact word he said in a meeting with their kiroi and councelors that undermined Damen's authority. The exact moment he stopped to speak with an ill-intentioned courtier who flirted with him and he must have unintentionally flirted back. The provokation implied in a comment he thought was innocuous. And the fact Damen only found more and more of reasons to be dissatisfied with Laurent, despite him becoming evermore self-aware and trying so hard, so much of the time, to please Damen, meant nothing more than the fact that Laurent was a man full of flaws. It wasn't on Damen.

They both agree Damen's assessment and his morals could never be wrong. He is too good and honest a man for that. Laurent is causing all of it.

The oldest members of their guards notice the slow, steady shift. Those that used to compose the old Veretian prince's guard are worried. They whisper among themselves when they see a new bruise blooming in their king's fair skin or hear the shouts coming from inside the royal chambers. But no one dares to raise a voice against king Damianos. Jord or Lazar (or whichever of the prince's guards you like best) goes to Laurent to raise their concerns and ask if everything is all right between him and Exalted. If there is anything Laurent needs. Anything at all. They will stand by him come what will. But Laurent berates them and tells them to keep their noses out of royal business.

Damen is approached by Nikandros and inquired about it when one day Damen unintentionally leaves Laurent with a black eye. Damen finds that is the perfect opportunity to lament about all the ways Laurent has been driving him insane and making him miserable. That he is getting worse with time where Damen had hoped he would have settled and his temperament improved. That years after the events they lived through, he keeps holding Damen accountable for things that should be left in the past. That Damen doesn't blame Laurent for killing Kastor, or torturing him in Vere anymore, so why should Laurent still resent him for Auguste.

Nikandros understands. He feels sorry for Damen, that Laurent makes his life so difficult. He has witnessed their quarrels before, had seen the way Laurent evokes Auguste's name as a dagger to dig into Damen's heart.

Then it becomes common knowledge all around their court: Laurent is as unbearable and hard to reconcile with as he'd ever been, prideful and resentful and cruel. And Damen is the poor man who has to handle him atop a whole kingdom he has to rule. There is no soul in their kingdom that doesn't feel bad for Damen's situation.

What no one seems to notice is that Laurent has taken to flinch whenever Damen lifts his hand. That he tenses when he raises his voice. That he is much more succint and careful with his words whenever Damen is around, because he doesn't want to upset him.

All they notice is Laurent's worsening moods. His renewed bouts of broodiness and anger. That he takes anything and everything out on everyone — the servants, the guards, officials, nobles of the court, the walls and the furniture. Nothing seems to please him anymore. Everything sets off his rage. Which is something else Damen has taken to punish him for, in the privacy of their chambers.

Laurent never cries. Not when Damen tell him how difficult he is, how impossible he makes to love him. Not when he sees the several shades of new and healing bruises all over his body, not when he gulps mouthfuls of his own blood. Laurent hasn't cried since he was thirteen. But he gets more and more hopeless each day that passes and he is proven again no good man could ever truly love him because nothing good and pure remains so in his presence.

Laurent always brings out the worse in people, no matter how he tries to get things right.

But he keeps on trying. Because maybe one day he can. And maybe Damen will see there is good left in him to love even though he makes his life hard and harder every day. And maybe one day Damen will love him easily.

Because all he really wants is to be worth it of Damen's love.

And that's all Damen wants too. He already loves Laurent so much. He would never, ever hurt him again if only Laurent would stop provoking him into it.

[izzy-b-hands]

On a random fic related side note, just saw I'm at nearly 80 fics written for our flag, and can only think to myself

'wow bud, you had like. over 100 for the Pacific probably even faster than this. You've really lost steam, huh?'

and like. Brain. could we just enjoy the number go up, even if number go up SLOWLY

[dyrewrites]

hey! this is chance & here’s the prompt for week 6. what are your oc's bedrooms like? messy? neat? carefully designed? or a collection of their favorite things? you can verbally describe or use photos, whatever you think is best.

Oh ho ho. This is a fun question. I like this question.

I am going to answer with all of them, so you have been warned.

Pale Blood;

Delmas' room is better kept than the rest of his apartment, usually. It's cramped but not cluttered with anything but furniture and though his bed is never made, he hangs or folds all of his clothes and never eats in there so there's rarely a mess. He has a tall dresser, a king size four-post bed and a night-stand that just barely fits beside it. All of the furniture is heavily scuffed and scratched. However, it is all real wood, all very old pieces carved and shaped by artisans with exquisite details...and his sheets and blankets belong in a museum. As does the ridiculous rug that takes up most of the room, is too round and wide to be in such a small space, and does not appear to have ever been dusted. It looks like he robbed a wealthy aristocrat from a bygone era and then tried to fit all of their things into a tuna can. Odea's bedroom is a mess. All of the time. Her bed is never made, her clothes stay where she throws them, she rarely does laundry or folds anything and she converted her closet into a small lab so there's no clothing in there. If not for the clothes, there's be massive stuffed animals and holos of cutesy characters strewn everywhere - that she buys whenever she is sad. Her bed is hidden most of the time by clothes or animals, but if it weren't one would see that it is shaped a bit like an egg. It is softly lit inside and she has a dresser and side-table that sort of match, though the table looks more like a mushroom and tends to be covered in whatever empty takeout boxes she had the days before. She's also carpeted the room, the only one in the apartment to have carpeting (and she'd get in trouble if the landlord found out she did it), it is obscenely fluffy and light gray in color and she hasn't seen it in months. Everything in her room is lit, in some way, all voice activated. She does not like being in the dark. Ron doesn't sleep, but he has a special room of his own in the bloodbank that is just big enough for maybe two adults and a small child (or tiny woman) to stand in. It is a mess of clutter, with old paper and leather books stacked in piles everywhere and on the shelves pressed against and climbing to the top of the tight walls. There's a couch and a desk in there as well, the couch is stuffed and comfortable (but short) and the desk is a thin number that could have been a foldout table once. He treasures this space. It is lit mostly by the rather dated device on his desk, which also happens to be the main network hub of the bloodbank. But he also has a little reading lamp that no one under thirty would recognize, and even they might call it vintage. Den shares a room with his sister, because his mother took his when she discovered he wasn't going to meet a nice girl and settle down to make some puppies. He sleeps on what could be considered a beanbag bed, if one squinted. It is made of rat-fur and full of the stuffing of old pillows. His sister gave him a blanket, that she made herself from his old clothes that he'd grown out of - she also lets him sleep in her very large and very new "princess" bed (as she calls it) when he comes home at odd hours and is too tired to play. Their mother throws nothing away and only buys what is absolutely needed, or what might motivate her pups to do what she wants. Luckily, Den has found ways of earning his own money outside the pack so he has clothing...but bedroom stuff is something he doesn't care for. He rarely sleeps there anyway.

Aha, bet you thought I was done.

Nope, Weald and Wen now!;

Mitra sleeps on a shelf in her brother's workshop, mostly. He carved it special just for her, even decorated it with things she likes (shiny things he finds in the pockets of his meals). It looks less like a room and more like a cross section of a geode, as she sleeps in her hair and doesn't wear clothes or have need of a light most of the time (she is a light). But it's made of the same stuff she is and so it's a good place to rest and heal when she's heavily damaged (which she often is). Parnamyr does not sleep but he has many lavishly decorated bedrooms in his tower full of curated items specific to the varying species of creatures found in the Weald and Wen that he has had the pleasure of...hosting. Occasionally, he does need to recharge, and he does so in a bare room at the top of his tower. It is lined with thickly tinted windows and rests just above the treeline, so that he might see the Lady's Heart glaring in the sky above. He either sits in the center of this rounded room or stands with what little bark he has left pressed against the glass. Delgrij's room is a full level of his nest, it is wide and elaborately decorated but most of the decor is kept close to or inside the walls, to allow room for the broodmother (as all nests must have room for her visits). The walls are carved in symbols and shapes meaningful only to him, with inlaid drawers filled with folded clothes and shelves stuffed with figures he carved himself (or were carved for him) and large tomes he wrote himself (or personally knows who did). He does not have a bed, but there is a shelf by a large oval window decorated with pillows that he used to fall asleep on. When he sleeps on purpose, he does so all wrapped up in the fleshy wings hidden under his arms...while upside down on a tall, gnarled post that he grips with the malleable roots that usually take a hoof-like shape at the ends of his legs. It is impeccably clean, never a thing out of place. Faerai shares her bedroom with her father, as all younglings do, but unlike most other Fyrni parents her father let her have free reign in decorating. Their bed is a wide, round mound of stuffed furs and cushions set inside carved crystal and covered in soft pillows, quilts and a few homemade stuffed animals. All of the shelves, cupboards and drawers are carved into the curves of the crystal walls, filled with clothes, cloth or books and a few wooden figurines. The only thing not carved into the room itself is the basin of oil that stands next to a section of wall buffed so smooth as to be reflective (the oils are for healing and cleaning). There's a gentle everglow bulb (thin crystal and moss that responds to Fyrni magic) that hangs from the ceiling.

[sickgraymeat]

the hope that maybe despite it all things are going to be less terrible and terrible a little less often AND maybe you’re even known/heard/understood and still loved?? Delicious! Appetizing! Protein-packed soul food!!! I make a cheap imitation recipe called fanfiction!

[indecisivemuch]

Apples

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You tossed an apple to Luke without knowing the meaning of it in Greek Mythology (fluff, friends to lovers, happy ending)

Note: Just wanted to write something lighthearted and funny. Since I saw somewhere that apparently throwing an apple at someone means something in Greek Mythology, thought I should use it as a prompt.

Word count: 3.1k

You have been at Camp Half-Blood for a year. Within that time, you’ve been claimed by your Godly parent, learned so many things about Greek mythology, and, best of all, made friends who understood exactly what you were going through and all whom you loved dearly. 

One of them was Luke Castellan. You two were relatively close friends, though you swore he treated you differently than he would with others at camp. But you didn’t want to be foolish and assumed it was something. That didn’t mean you don’t treat him differently than you would with other campers though. You have always had a soft spot for Luke in your heart. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but you found yourself thinking about him too often.

“Anyway, Percy. Don’t worry too much, honestly. We all have been through what you’re currently going through. You’ll fit right in, yeah?” the younger boy offered you a lope-sided smile as you patted his back and stood up. 

“Alright, boys, I have to go now, but I’ll see you later,” you said before grabbing your plate, which would have been empty if it wasn’t for the apple you hadn’t eaten. The rest of the table - which included Chris, Luke, and Percy - said their goodbyes before chattering again as you walked away. However, you halted as you changed your mind about wasting the apple.

You turned back to look at the group before calling out, “Hey, Castellan.” However, you were slightly caught off guard to see Luke already having his eyes on you.

Luke swore that you have always had him mesmerized. If he even heard a whisper of your voice, his head would immediately try to locate you. To make matters worse, Chris even started calling Luke a “lost puppy” when he realized how your departure would always leave Luke like one. 

“Catch,” you tossed your apple at Luke. 

Multiple heads turned in your direction as the red apple hurled through the air before landing neatly in Luke’s hands. The Hermes cabin counselor had his eyes glued onto the fruit that was in his palms. You almost halted in your steps from his and other camper’s reactions. Some started whispering to their friends, pointing at you. You even heard one gasp. But you ignored them, finding it strange that people cared so much about such a small interaction.

“You can have it. I don’t think I’ll have time to eat it,” with that, you vanished from the scene, leaving at least half of the camp agape, including Luke and your friends. 

Then, the strangest of things happened for the next few days. It started with Luke already stationed outside when you exited your cabin the morning after. He cheekily presented you with one singular flower in his hand, and you took it with playful words, “Ooh, what did I do to deserve this special treatment today?”

“Nothing, just thought I should show how much I appreciate you,” Luke put his arm over your shoulder as the two of you made your way to the dining pavilion. You could feel your cheeks flushing at his action. He has never done this before. With his arms around you, the sides of your bodies brushed as the two of you walked. You noticed almost immediately how every other person would have their eyes on the two of you. But you ignored the attention and focused on Luke instead.

The sweet actions didn’t stop at flowers or more physical touches. For the next three days, Luke was stuck to your hip. So it was quite strange that you have not spotted the Hermes cabin counselor in the last two hours. Hence why you were spending some time with Clarisse, another close friend of yours. However, you felt an arm swinging around your shoulders, and you instantly recognized who it was from the familiar touch.

“Hey, Clarisse, can I borrow Y/N real quick?” Luke asked, quickly muttering a “thank you” when your friend nodded. “So, I have something to give you…” your face must have shown how surprised you were because he chuckled at your reaction. However, when the boy pulled his gift out from his cargo pocket, your mouth fell slightly agape at the reveal. 

Luke must have misinterpreted your reaction because he started nervously rambling, his voice a few octaves higher, “It’s not much, but honestly, this is all I can do with my arts and crafts skills. I’m just not really good with that y-”

“It’s perfect, Luke. Thank you so much!” you gave him a brief hug, but it was enough to stun him for a second. Luke felt this urgent sense of craving from how your bodies fit for a second. It’s as if he was made to hold you. He almost pulled you back into another hug but had to force himself to regain composure. Nevertheless, that didn’t last long because his eyes softened again at the sight of you trying on the bracelet he made. The beads in your favorite color, crafted with care, wrapped around your wrist perfectly, and you wonder how he knew just the right size to make it.

The truth was Luke had to ask Clarisse to steal one of your bracelets just so he could make a bracelet of the correct size. But you didn't need to know that, though - according to him.

The next night, there was a social gathering near the campfire. Luke reapproached the location with a hoodie in hand. Earlier, Luke excused himself to fetch the clothing item that was now in his hand that was meant for you. However, his brows scrunched as he spotted another figure next to you, sitting in the spot that he previously occupied. You were laughing at something they said. The way your laugh echoed in his head usually sounded like a lullaby or the enchanting voice of a siren. But right now, the idea that someone else elicited the same laugh made him want to hurl behind the bush he was standing next to.

Little did he know you were zoning out from whatever the other boy was speaking about, thus the fake laugh to not blow your cover. You were distracted just thinking about Luke and everything he has done so far - offering his portion of dessert to you because he knew it was your favorite; him winning Capture the Flag and ignoring everybody else to go hug you first, then having his eyes on you and only you afterwards; sneaking out of camp to go buy the items you mentioned once that you wish you had at camp and so on. 

Your mind quickly reminded you that the boy sitting next to you was still talking to you. However, when you snapped out of your thoughts again, you realized now he was looking at you expectantly and you scrambled your mind for a reply.

Thank Gods Luke plopped down on your other side, saving you from having to admit to the other boy that you were not listening to him. “Hey, you’re back,” you commented. Luke’s arm automatically threw itself around your shoulder and tugged you to him slightly. Your body leaned on the Hermes cabin counselor ever so naturally at this before you turned to him. Luke quickly set his clothing on your lap, and you stared at it questioningly.

“You’re cold, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” your cheeks flushed again at how he knew without you telling him. You shivered maybe once or twice earlier due to the night air lowering the temperature, but it was so brief you were sure nobody had noticed. As you put on the hoodie, Luke averted his gaze from you to the guy on your other side. 

The Hermes cabin counselor arched one of his eyebrows in a challenging manner. Almost immediately, his ‘opponent’ slightly raised both of his hands. Luke internally snickered at the quick motion of surrender. 

“My bad, man,” you heard the other boy say as you managed to put your head through the clothing item and pull it down. Luke was physically preening at the other boy’s words and departure. Meanwhile, you were distracted by how you were engulfed by the smell of Luke from his hoodie. Your height difference also meant you were swimming in it, but it felt so comfortable.

“What was that?” you asked once the other boy was gone. 

“Nothing…” even the most oblivious person could see that Luke was lying. But, once again, you did not question his actions and carried on with the gathering. You could also feel other campers staring at the two of you, but you ignored that as well. 

That night - like every other night since four days ago - he walked you back to your cabin. You were honestly completely smitten by the attention he has given you, not that you would admit that to him. You were still not sure what caused the change, but you were still elated about it. Maybe he did return your feelings? Either way, everything felt perfect lately, and you went to sleep that night feeling like the stars aligned for you.

“I guess congratulations are in order?” Percy spoke up as you lined up for food the following day. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, taking the plate of food. Today’s meal consisted of mac n’ cheese, steak, and an apple. 

“You’re engaged?” you almost dropped your plate at that and gave the son of Poseidon a questioning look. “You proposed to Luke like a week ago?”

“What? When?”

“When you threw him the apple? That is considered a marriage proposal.”

“Since when?”

“Uh, in Ancient Greek culture, it’s considered a marriage proposal if a man throws an apple at a lady. But, I mean, it’s the 21st century, so I guess it can work both ways.” Percy finally took a plate of food for himself. “And if the recipient catches it, it’s considered an acceptance.”

“You saw this and knew this whole time without telling me?!?” 

“I thought you knew! And you two seem so smitten already, so I thought you did it on purpose.”

“Percy, no! Is this a well-known thing? Do you think other people who saw it too thought I proposed to Luke as well?” Seeing Percy’s look and how he was fumbling with his words, you quickly requested, “Actually, no, don’t answer that.” 

The two of you walked over to Luke and Chris with plates in hand. You picked up the apple on your plate and placed it on the table. 

“Luke, we need to talk,” You deliberately placed the fruit there, hoping the boy would get a hint about the topic you wanted to discuss. Luke’s eyes flicked from the fruit to you. Though the hint of amusement in his eyes and a sheepish grin made you realize he knew all along. Luke stood up and followed you out of sight and hearing distance from other campers whose eyes were trailing after the two of you.

“You knew what it meant, and you didn’t tell me?” You broke the silence as soon as you two were far away enough. 

“Listen, I appreciate your proposal. But, it’s a little bit fast, don’t you think?” Luke teased, and you instantly hit his arm at that, causing the boy to flinch slightly, but the smile on his face told you he was anything but mad at your action.

“But you caught it. So, technically, you said yes,” you rebutted, sighing as you rubbed your face, “My Gods, does everybody at camp think we’re engaged? Wait, is this a substitute for an engagement ring? Did you give this to me because of that?” you pointed to the bracelet Luke gave you, your mind now understanding Clarisse’s teasing and her implications. You could see the way Luke was stifling a laugh. He settled with saying something else when he saw the pure panic on your face.

“Sweetheart, calm down.” the nickname successfully silenced you. You hated how it made you feel, but you would not mind hearing that daily. “No, it’s not an engagement ring.”

“Oh, so were you doing all of these romantic gestures and gifts on purpose to make fun of me and the situation?” you asked, though it was more with a lighthearted tone than one of temper. However, something shifted because the expression on Luke’s face changed from one of humor to earnestness.

“No, I didn’t do all this to make fun of the situation or you…” Luke’s voice fell off as tried to find the right words to say next. In that split second, Luke took a deep breath, and you could see how nervous he suddenly became, though he still kept a light tone. “I did it because I took it as a chance to maybe…win you over, and it also gives me an advantage because it fended off many other guys.” 

Undoubtedly, you were frozen in place, unable to register the words he was saying and the implications they bear. Neither did the boy in front of you act like the Luke you usually know - somebody who was usually confident, outgoing, always having his way with words. No, the person in front of you could not even hold eye contact, the pink hue on his cheeks now spreading to the tip of his ears as he shifted left and right. Luke broke the silence first, giving away the nerves that were gnawing him away from your lack of response.

“How about this? I’ll say ‘no’ to your mind-blowing marriage proposal for now,” you lightheartedly hit him again, rolling your eyes playfully. Seeing a positive reaction from you, Luke let out a small breath of relief, but the nerves quickly overtook again as he mustered up all the courage to utter his counter proposal: “But maybe we could start with something slower like going on a date? — Or I’ll even settle with you allowing me to try and ‘woo’ you.” Luke added the last bit as insurance, in case you didn’t want to take up on the date. Part of his mind wanted to scowl at himself for seeming so desperate - but Gods, he has always been a desperate man when it comes to you. 

“You’re such a dork.”

“Yet you still proposed to me.”

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?” Luke only shook his head in response. Once again, you haven’t responded to his offer. Luke could see that you were in deep thought, the cogs turning in your head as you digested what he just said.

“You mean it? That you wanna go on a date? That you wanna “woo” me and sweep me off my feet?” you questioned. Despite the humor in your voice, there was also a hint of vulnerability and cautiousness. “Does this mean what you’ve been doing for the past few days…they are all genuine?”

“Is it that hard to believe that I like you? I don’t think you even fully understand the feelings I have for you. I’ve had my eyes on you for a year now, which is the entire time I know you, and I’m afraid I can’t see that changing any time soon.” Luke had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying more because he was sure he would never stop talking about you if he could. Maybe those unspoken words ought to be things Luke would disclose in the future. If you give him the chance, he will ensure you hear everything he adored about you.

“Well, that’s good then, ‘cause I happen to like you too,” your words made Luke’s eyes snap to yours, almost in disbelief. 

Luke felt as if his heart was blocking his airway by the way it was thumping so hard in his chest to the point he could feel the vibration in his neck. He held his breath over your confession and the way you were looking at him. Oh, Luke was convinced he was utterly doomed because how could he be so affected by one single look. He was suddenly unsure whether he would be able to handle your affections or ever live without it if it was taken from him. He’d spend the rest of eternity like a deprived man.

“Aw, look who is nervous now,” you teased, deciding to somewhat torture him and get him back for teasing you earlier. “I did not think I had this kind of effect on you, Castellan,” you approached him slowly, keeping eye contact with his now dilated pupils. 

“I mean…all I did was say a couple of words and you’re all tongue tied. What would happen to you if I do this?” you swiftly grabbed Luke’s camp beads and pulled him down, eliminating a significant amount of space between your faces, though not completely. To steady himself during your action, Luke’s hands steadied on your hips and stumbled slightly, though you did not mind the touch.

You never knew it was possible for his face to flush even more, but it did. Luke gulped and your eyes casted down on the way his Adam’s apple moved when he did so. The way he reacted to you only intoxicated you with power even more. You glanced upwards a bit, eyes observing his lips for a split second before looking back up at his eyes. You smirked when you caught his eyes flickering back to yours from your lips as well. 

Just as you were about to close the distance, Luke pulled back just a bit, finally able to speak, though his words were heavy warnings, “If this happens—” Luke stopped, unsure he should let you know. Luke shook his head lightly as his eyes traced over your features before continuing, “If we kiss, there is no going back for me. I don’t think I could just…forget about it. So, please, just be sure before you do it.” Your eyes softened at his words.

“I promise, Luke. I am sure,” you muttered, though Luke knew you meant the words by heart from the way you were looking at him. 

You finally pulled the boy down again using his camp necklace. 

As your lips touched Luke’s, he let out a content sigh. His hands clung onto your hips, pulling you flush against his own body while you caressed both sides of his face in your hands. Luke felt like the world was swallowing him whole. The boy now knew what your lips tasted like, and it felt like an addiction. He could feel his heart waving white flags at that moment, completely surrendering to you. He was right before. There was no going back from this. 

But oh, if Luke knew an apple was all it took, he would have tossed one to you himself.

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

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[elixirfromthestars]

A Night of Frights & Delights

Pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader (College AU)

Summary: It’s Friday the 13th and the college kids in town decided to host a weekend camping trip on the outskirts of town. Your best friend convinced you to go much to your reluctance. What could go wrong when the one guy you can’t stand is also there?

Word Count: 7k

Warning(s): slight horror themes / suggestive tones + implications / mentions of a past murder (not in graphic detail just campfire storytelling) / slow burn / suspense + other elements of spookiness / touch starved elements / be prepared for lots of back and forth + tension

Prompt: Campsite + forced proximity + “ It’s not bad enough to have Friday the 13th, we’ve gotta have a full moon too?”

a/n: here’s my entry for @witchywithwhiskey ‘s summer slasher writing challenge. Any chance to celebrate summerween and I’m there 🤭✨ I got carried away with the spooky element of it and this ended up longer than expected. Thank you for reading! 🧡 Feedback is always appreciated!! 🎃🧡

a steamy part two ❤️‍🔥

“ It’s Friday the 13th! Gather ‘round, for some good ol’ scary campfire stories!” Sam Wilson called out to anyone who would listen. A task that wasn’t the easiest thing to ask for when all the college students in the area were trying to have their last bit of fun before fall semester started. Amongst the ones that weren’t already drunk or passed out, a few were trying to find the perfect opportunity to sneak away into the night.

You on the other hand sat near the bonfire, appreciating the warmth it provided on this chilly night. Your back was resting against a log. The scratchy surface grazes against your black sweater at the slightest movement. Camping wasn’t your ideal choice for a weekend getaway, but when your best friend Jane insisted on you coming along it was hard to say no. Especially, since you had already said no to multiple get-togethers throughout the summer. 

It’s not like you didn’t want to hang out with her. The issue was that wherever she was her boyfriend was—and wherever he was his friends were. And his friends included one smartass star pitcher for your university’s baseball team who made it his life’s mission to be a thorn in your side. 

Needless to say, you couldn’t stand the man.

“ It was actually 1982, not 1985,” Jane whispers her comment to you, nudging your arm lightly. You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at her, your clueless eyes meeting her amused ones. 

“ You’re not paying attention to Sam’s story, are you?” She quietly calls you out, leaning slightly closer. You shake your head sheepishly,“ No. Kind of got lost in thought,” you admit. Jane nods in acknowledgment,“ You’re not missing much. He’s just telling the story of the murders that happened here in ‘82,” she explains. You nod slowly, an eerie chill creeping up your spine. Everyone within fifty miles of the town knew of the horrific crime. It was the worst the town had ever seen. 

A group of teenagers had snuck off into the woods to party a week before their senior graduation. They brought their camping gear to spend the night under the full moon to celebrate the milestone. They had gone so deep into the woods no one heard their music blasting all night. 

No one heard their screams either as their life was taken from them. 

You took a shaky breath, your fingers tracing random patterns into the dirt beneath you. Even though you could recite this story from memory it was different hearing it told in gruesome detail. Something Sam was not shying away from doing. 

“ Don’t let Sam’s story get to you—here have a s’more,” Thor spoke up, handing you a small disposable plate with a freshly assembled s’more. His way of trying to comfort you. 

“ Thanks,” you shot Thor an appreciative smile, taking the sweet treat. Jane’s boyfriend had always been kind to you and you got along well. The mutual friendliness extended to all of his baseball friends.

Well, the friendliness extended to all his friends except for one.  

“ He’s telling it wrong anyway, so don’t pay it any mind,” Jane says causing you to let out a small laugh. Leave it to Jane to alleviate your nerves by just being herself. 

You try to drown out Sam’s true crime retelling and focus on the sugary gooeyness on your lap. Jane and Thor snuggle into each other beside you and a small smile appears on your face at the sight. You take a bite of the s’more, letting the flavors melt into your mouth. 

“ The next morning the cops led a search party into these very woods. Everyone searched day and night for three days straight. Scouting every inch, no stone unturned, to find them. And then one day, one member of the search party found something. That member being my Titi—so listen close,” Sam sets up the big reveal. 

“ Wanna know what they found?” A voice you know all too well whispers into your ear from behind. The hairs on the back of your neck stand as his breath fans your ear. 

“ I already know,” you grit out, turning your head to glare at him. Bucky can’t help the cocky grin that overcomes him when you look at him like that. He makes his way over the log and sits right next to you. You don’t hide the displeasure on your face. 

“ Couldn’t find anyone else to annoy, James?” 

 “ None worth my time, sweetheart—and it's Bucky.” 

You roll your eyes biting back a snarky comment. No matter the number of times he insists on you calling him by his nickname, you refuse to. Only his friends call him Bucky, and you're not friends—far from it. So to you, he’s James and nothing more. 

“ We’re not friends, James. Friends don’t make you miss your biology final,” you remind him bitterly. He looks at you with slight disbelief,“ You’re still stuck on that? How is it my fault the party went until four in the morning?” You bristle at his defensiveness. 

“ I don’t know. Maybe by not kicking everyone out of your apartment?” you retort, taking another bite of your s’more. Hoping to lose yourself in the sweetness of it before the distaste of his presence taints it. 

“ At least the professor let you make it up…” he mutters under his breath. 

“ That’s not the point,” you snip, unable to let him have the last word. You pretend to focus on Sam’s story, but really your attention is on the flames in front of you. The way they dance and crackle as if telling their own story alongside Sam’s. 

Bucky stares at you, his eyes scanning every detail of your face. His favorite pastime is finding all the ways to push your buttons. There’s something about your reactions that he can’t help but want to see more of. He openly enjoys being the only one who can elicit such responses from you. Hell, you could say he was proud of it. 

“ Stop it.” 

“ Stop what?” 

“ The staring.” 

“ Don't want to.” 

You turn to give him a piece of your mind but abruptly stop when you see the way he’s looking at you—or more so the way he’s examining your lips. His eyes reflecting more than just the golden flames in the bonfire. There was something deeper and not entirely unfamiliar. He had looked at you this way before, and yet it was still unrecognizable to you. An emotion you couldn’t pinpoint, but that was heartstopping nonetheless. 

His hand lifts to your face, his thumb brushing away at something on the corner of your mouth. Your tongue instinctively darts out to lick your lips and remove whatever remnants of the s’more are left. Something unreadable flashes in his eyes. You wonder what he must be seeing in yours when his eyes drift from your lips to your gaze. 

“ You had a little something there,” his voice has a deeper cadence to it, contrasting the cheeky grin plastered on his face. That damn grin. It’s all you need to snap out of whatever trance you were just in. 

“ You’re insufferable,” you hiss out, getting up from your spot on the ground and stepping away from the bonfire. You hate how he does this—how easily he’s able to mess with you. It’s like it's his second nature to know exactly how to get a reaction from you. Almost as if he knew you better than you knew yourself.

The vulnerability of it all is what ground your gears the most. Bucky was used to this. The flirting, the back and forth, the teasing, and having girls wrapped around his finger. The last time you were in a relationship was your freshman year of college—a few years ago. It had been too long of being touch-starved that the slightest of touches or gazes brought about a yearning deep within you. One that you swore Bucky could see right through and it made you detest the man more. 

You hated feeling like you were being toyed with. But above all, you hated how much you actually didn’t hate the attention he gave you. 

You make your way over to one of the many trashcans around the campsite and dump the last bits of your s’more in along with the disposable plate. Your appetite for the treat long gone after his little stunt. 

You use your phone as a flashlight as you walk over to where all the tents are stationed. It’s not too far from the bonfire, but far enough that the voices of everyone drown out into a low hum. A few people are already in the tents enjoying the night without the warmth of the fire. 

“ Y/n! Hold up!” Jane calls out to you from behind. You face her confused expression, “ Everything okay?” You nod, your hands hiding in the pockets of your grey sweatpants,“ Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna call it a night,” you say tiredly. You don’t want her to worry or keep her from enjoying her night. 

“ Okay…Are you sure? Because you seemed off after Bucky—” 

“ Please for the love of everything don’t mention him.”

Jane drops the subject entirely, “ Okay, okay. I won’t,” she assures you and pauses for a moment before she adds, “ By the way, I’ll be staying with Thor tonight, so you have our tent all to yourself.” 

“ Oh? Oh…behave yourself, Foster,” you warn her playfully. She rolls her eyes waving off your tease,“ No promises.” You laugh together—the exchange alleviating the heaviness in your shoulders.

After a light farewell, your best friend retreats to the bonfire. You find your eyes drifting from her figure to the back of Bucky’s head. He’s still sitting in the same spot, right next to where you had sat. He was drinking away at a beer as Sam continues his story. You look away, ignoring the way your heart feels a small pang as it wonders if it would have been so bad if you had stayed.

Only Bucky had this way of infuriating you, but enticing you at the same time. A magnetic push and pull that tugs at you whenever you’re near him. 

You crouch down and unzip your humble abode for the night. Gazing up at the sky before heading in. The moon is bright and full amongst the dark hazy clouds. 

“ It's not bad enough to have Friday the 13th, we've gotta have a full moon too?” you grumble before entering the tent. The knowledge of being in here alone all night sounds less appealing now. You wish Sam had told a different story to set the mood for tonight. 

For the next couple of hours, you lose yourself in your sketchbook. Every corner of the tent became your makeshift desk as the soft scratches of graphite filled the air. A small LED lantern casting just enough glow to guide your intricate curves and shadows across the paper. At first, you were sketching a flower you had seen earlier in the day along a trail. You don’t recognize the species, but the cluster of pretty violet petals vividly lived in your head and you wanted it forever memorialized in your sketchbook. 

At some point, however, the petals turn into doodles and then unrecognizable scribbles. The creative flow taking a life of its own. You soon find yourself drawing a pair of eyes on another page. Giving them a space of their own. These eyes you recognize deep down, but they still have the same unreadable expression from earlier. Almost as if you hoped to decipher it by putting it on paper. 

Maybe then it would be easier to look at them without being affected—without feeling that pull. 

There’s a loud thump that echoes close to your tent. You freeze at the sound. By this point, everyone had called it a night and retreated to their sleeping arrangements. It had been at least half an hour that you hadn’t heard a single sound except for the chirping of crickets amongst a chorus of other creepy crawlers. 

When no sound followed the thump you decided to ignore it—acting like you hadn’t heard a thing. And yet, your fingers swiftly moved to turn off the lantern and close your sketchbook, neatly tucking it beneath your pillow. 

Another noise rang out—the skidding of dirt. And this time it was closer to your tent. Not directly outside it, but almost. You don’t know why your heart dropped or why your fingertips went cold, but they did. You tell yourself it’s probably just someone going out to use the bathroom or some other related activity. 

Your body betrayed your mind as it started to feel enclosed in the tent. Like a prey caught in a trap. Hopelessly awaiting the moment the predator decided to take them out. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and with numb fingers, you grab your phone. The tent shrinking around you as your heart pounded in your chest. Going out to investigate the source of the noise wasn't the smartest idea. However, continuing to be a sitting duck in the tent was distressing you more—and that helpless feeling overpowered anything else. 

You slowly unzip the tent, trying to make as minimal noise as possible. You slip on your moccasins, putting one foot in front of the other as you step out into the night. Your surroundings are cast in shadows as the moon seems to be hiding behind a gloomy cluster of clouds. You look around and notice no one else is awake. Only dormant tents with sleeping residents inside accompany you in the night. 

You scan the area, training your ear to see if you can pick up any noise. 

That’s when you hear it—a rustling in the bushes. 

You peer into the woods, your eyes narrowing hoping to center on something, but you can’t see anything. There’s a slight fog that encases the lines of trees encircling the campsite obstructing your view. 

You take a few steps forward, hugging your sweater closer to your body. The outside air catches you off guard with its falling degrees. The shadows at every corner of the woods become creatures of the night if you stare at them for too long. 

Why were you doing this? Why had you decided this was a good idea? 

You questioned yourself. An unpleasant shiver goes up your spine at the thought of you walking straight into a creature’s claws. Your footing stumbled, and yet you found yourself walking further in the direction of the sound, the faint glow of your phone illuminating your path. You decided against using the actual flashlight on your phone as it could easily alert whatever was hiding in the foliage of the woods. 

You don’t go too far from the campsite. Your legs only take you a few feet away from the perimeter of it before tensing at the way the hoot of an owl cuts through the stillness of the night. Your breath caught in your throat, and you gripped your phone tighter. The edges of it digging into your skin. 

“ What are we looking for?” A voice too close for comfort whispers behind you and it causes you to shriek, your phone tumbling to the ground as you jump away from the source. Your eyes zero in on the culprit—your blood boiling when your gaze meets his ceruleans. 

James Buchanan fucking Barnes.

A deep chuckle erupts from Bucky at your reaction. Not only at the way you jumped, but also at the way you’re now seething. He stands there in a basic white tee and black joggers, his hair slightly unkempt from lying on it earlier in the night. 

“ What the hell is wrong with you?” You hiss, bending down to pick up your phone from the ground. The anxiety from before dissipating into irritation. 

“ Me? What’s up with you? Sneaking around in the woods at night. That’s kinda creepy, sweetheart,” he jabs with a smirk. You roll your eyes, exhaling to steady your breath,“ Stop calling me that. And I'm not sneaking around—I heard something.” 

“ And you came to check it out?” 

“ Yeah.”

“ You have no survival instincts, do you?”

“ And you do? You're out here too.”

Bucky crosses his arms, his eyes roaming over your figure. He’s thoroughly entertained by your attempt to catch whatever is out there in your cozy outfit. It’s not exactly monster-hunting material. 

“ I let my buddy have the tent for the night. He’s got a girl in there. Thought I'd sleep under the stars like nature intended,” he explains with a nonchalant shrug. A wry smile appears on your face,“ Aren’t you a great friend,” you reply sarcastically. He’s about to give you a snippy retort when a branch breaks ahead of you, causing you both to snap your attention to it. 

You both go silent—wondering if you’ll hear anything more. Bucky takes a few steps forward to stand in front of you. Positioning himself between you and the unknown noise. 

“ Is that what you heard earlier?” He asks, his voice a hushed whisper. Your eyes drift up his form and the way his arm is slightly outstretched in your direction in a protective stance. He’s looking in the direction of where the sound came from, but then his head turns back to look at you. 

It takes you a second to gather your words,“ Sort of. At first there was like a loud thud by my tent and then some rustling—and now this,” you describe the unfolding events thus far.

He frowns,“ Is your tent the one by Wanda’s?”At his question you nod,“ Yeah…why?” He tilts his head slightly as he tries to recollect something. 

“ The two-person one with the purple edges?” 

“ Yeah…” 

His features soften, dawning on a sheepish expression. His protective stance faltering as he scratches the back of his neck,“ The noise was me then—sorry. I tripped over something while looking for a place to piss.” 

“ Oh…” Is all you manage to say. Feeling utterly foolish for getting so worked up over nothing. What you had thought was something going bump in the night ended up being Bucky stumbling to relieve himself. 

Another branch cracks in the murky fog. Reminding you that although the noises you heard outside your tent were explained, the ones here, not too far from you and Bucky—weren’t. 

“ I’m gonna go check it out,” he takes a step forward, but you stop him. Your hand shoots out to grip the hem of his shirt,“ Don’t! Are you crazy? You’re going to get yourself killed or something!”

His eyebrows raise, not expecting you to have that reaction.“ Are you worried about me, sweetheart?” A smirk spreads across his face, a twinkle in his eye.“ As if—screw you,” you deny harsher than you intended, removing your hold from his shirt. This only provokes him more, his smirk turning into a cheeky grin,“ You wanna?” 

“ You know what? I hope whatever is out there gets you.” 

“ Oh, you’d miss me if it did. But don’t worry—if it gets me, I’ll make sure to let it know you’re the one worth chasing." 

Bucky doesn’t give you a second to process what his words really mean. Instead, he takes out a small flashlight from the pocket of his joggers. He turns it on, shining the area ahead of him. A brazen expression is the last thing you see before he wanders into that direction of the woods as if there wasn’t potentially something dangerous up ahead. 

You wanted to protest, but you didn’t. Rather, you end up standing there amongst the wilderness, watching as his form gets smaller and smaller until it disappears into the haze of the fog. 

You feel uneasy as soon as you don’t see him. Your chest feels heavy with the unknown. You call out to him. Thinking maybe he’s doing this to prove something or to mess with you. When he doesn’t call back you find apprehension in the sinking pit of your stomach. 

Behind you, the campsite is still in sight. The smart thing to do would be to go wake someone up—like Thor—to go after Bucky. However, your feet work faster than your mind does, pushing you to follow after him. 

This time you use the flashlight on your phone to light your path. The luminescence cuts through the fog as you trudge through it. Leaves crunching beneath your feet, and hands outstretched lightly to use the passing trees as support to persist onward. 

You walk for a good few minutes before you finally spot him. He’s standing by a tall pine tree, his right hand tracing over something etched into the bark. 

“ James! Come back to the campsite!” You whisper yelled, approaching him. He hummed,“ So you are worried about me,” the smugness in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you. When he turns to face you his eyes tell you he was expecting you. Like he knew in the end your stubbornness and pride wouldn’t matter because you’d end up following after him after all.

You are worried about him. He needs no further proof than your actions. 

There was a prickling of annoyance building up in your system. More than anything, you wanted to get out of the woods as soon as possible. The campsite feels like a haven awaiting your return. 

“ Can you stop being so insufferably cocky for one second and just come back to the camp before I drag your ass back?” You say through gritted teeth. You wanted to have more bark to your bite, but the inkling dread of what could be out here stopped you from crossing that line. 

He stepped closer to you, the glow of his flashlight reflecting in his eyes in tiny glimmers,“ Why? I thought you didn't care if ‘whatever is out there’ got me.”

“ I don’t—but I’d hate to be an accomplice to that thing.” 

“ Admit it. You’re worried about me.”

By now Bucky was mere inches away from you. Having slowly sauntered right up to you. His eyes were daring you to speak the truth—his arrogant smile tempting you to do even more. 

“ I came to get you back, but if you’re determined to stay here then stay,” you huff, spinning on your heels to storm off. 

Bucky’s hand reaches out and encloses your wrist gently. Just enough to keep you from walking away. He sighs with defeated ire. 

“ Sweetheart, why won't you admit—” he’s cut off by the swift movement of something dashing past the both of you. He immediately pulls you in closer, his arms encasing you protectively—his body a shield. One arm is wrapped around your waist while the other holds your head. Your own body leans into his as if bracing for impact. 

From the corner of your eye, you can see the culprit of the racket. A deer dashing through the woods like it had somewhere to be. You held back a laugh at the revelation. 

This is what had you so worried this whole time? A deer? 

Even so, your heart races in your chest. And Bucky has you so tightly pressed into his that you can feel the way his own heart is thrumming rapidly. Both of your breaths work to steady from their instability as you realize there is nothing truly to be worried about. 

You stay like this for what seems like an eternity. Finding comfort in each other’s arms. The fog dances around your figures as if pushing you closer. The tips of your fingers tingle from where they’re pressed at his chest. 

When you finally register whose touch it is, you pull away. Bucky reluctantly lets you go. His arms awkwardly falling to his sides. You don’t know what to say. He doesn’t know where to start.

Why was his instinct to protect you? To keep you from harm’s way? 

And why had you felt the safest all night in his arms? 

You swallow the questions that desire to escape. There’s a part of you that feels like you should thank him, but then the other part feels stupid for wanting to do so. Knowing how much it would feed his ego to vindicate him as a hero. 

“ Guess it was just a deer, huh?” Bucky tries to cut through whatever tension is starting to build. 

“ Yeah…silly us…” you reply, half-heartedly. Your mind still reeling from his touch. 

You both go quiet again. The silence welcomes you where words fail to. 

Out of nowhere, you feel a tiny bead land on your head. Followed by one on your hand and then your cheek. It's beginning to drizzle. The rain cutting through the trees and promising to kiss every inch of your skin. 

“ We should get going,” Bucky says, his palm cupped to catch a few droplets. 

“ Yeah, that’s a good idea,” you agree, clearing your throat. In other circumstances, Bucky would rejoice and point out how, for once, you aren’t arguing with him. But not right now—not at this moment. Not when the memory of holding each other stirred something within you both. 

No, now instead you walk back to the campsite in silence. You’re a few steps ahead as Bucky decides to tow along at a slower pace. Seemingly lost in thought. 

When you’re back at the campsite your eyes dart to your tent. It’s within reach. A safety you can hideout in until the emotions Bucky arose in you fade away.  

“ Can I chill in your tent for a while? Just until the rain stops,” Bucky surprises you with his request. Until you remember he gave up his tent to his friend for the night. 

“ What? No,” your response is immediate. The thought of you and Bucky alone in your tent causes many scenarios to run through your head. You didn’t think you’d make it through the night with him in it. You were barely hanging on as it is. 

“ I just saved your life.” 

“ You did not.”

“ Did too.” 

“ James, you absolutely did not–” 

“ Please,” his soft plea tugs at the very part of you that wants to say yes. He’s not the kind of guy to beg, but he’ll do anything to not stand out in the cold rain. You being in an enclosed space with him was just a bonus. 

An extremely tantalizing bonus. 

“ Fine…but only until the rain stops,” you concede. You weren’t heartless enough to leave him out in the rain. 

You zip open the tent and climb inside. You remove your moccasins and leave them by the entrance. The inside is spacious enough for the two of you, but you still find yourself going into the furthest right corner of it. You sit crossed-legged as you turn on the small LED lantern to illuminate the tent with its muted glow. He makes his way inside, his hair glistening from the rain. He leaves his muddied slides by your moccasins. 

“ This tent is way nicer than the one Sam and I got,” he comments, running a hand through his hair to dispel the droplets. He’s trying to make light conversation, keeping his distance as he sits in the corner by the entrance diagonally from you. 

“ Jane’s family is really into camping so she had this one laying around…” you mention. The oddity of small talk between you fills the space with a foreign dynamic. The rain goes from a sprinkle to a pour. Hitting the top of the fabric cacoon in harsh strokes.  

He chooses to pivot the conversation.“ Do you have everything ready for fall semester?” He asks you, maneuvering to sit with his knees bent, his shirt hiking up the smallest bit to expose the skin at his hips. You avert your gaze when your heart does a little flip. 

“ Almost. I still have one or two textbooks to get,” you reply, playing with a few loose threads of the blanket beneath you. Anything to not have your eyes wander back to him. 

He scoffs lightly,“ You already got your textbooks? There’s no way. I always get ‘em after the first week.” Unlike you, he can’t seem to keep his pretty blues away from you. Your features heightened in the gentle sheen of the lantern. Intricate shadows scattered across your figure that made you look ethereal. The way his heart hammered in his chest romanticizing the sight of you.

“ That's because I’m responsible and you’re not.” 

“ I am responsible. As captain of the baseball team—”

“ Spare me the team leader speech, please,” you groan, stopping him from continuing. There’s only so much you can take for one night. And hearing Bucky light up as he talks about the one thing he’s passionate about—the one thing that humanizes him to you beyond his usual cheeky self. It would do more to you than just make your heart do a little flip.

You’d end up saying or doing something you wouldn’t be able to take back. 

“ Look, Y/n, I’m just trying to make conversation here. You don’t have to be so difficult all the time. Just talk to me,” Bucky brings you out of your thoughts not only by his exasperated tone, but by the way your name rolls off his tongue. He so rarely calls you by it. He’s called you sweetheart endlessly—and he’s even slipped a few sunshines in the mix—but your name was foreign to his vocabulary.  

 Bucky is usually good at dealing with your constant back and forth. Some days it's the only thing he looks forward to. However, right now it was irritating him how much you pushed back. He wanted you to give in. To what, he wasn’t sure. But he wondered what normalcy felt like with you—what just a damn friendly conversation felt like. 

You sigh, meeting his eyes.“ I don’t want to talk. Sorry, I think I’m just tired. Maybe we should go to bed,” you suggest, hoping that if he says yes you can sleep away the bubbling of emotions in your chest. 

You can see the way he contemplates something, biting the inside of his bottom lip. Now he’s the one holding back. A beat passes and you nervously wonder if he’ll turn down your suggestion. 

“ Fine—it's late anyway. But only if I get to sleep next to you. I promise I’ll keep my distance. It’s just there’s water leaking through the zipper at the entrance,” he mentions, his hand motioning to the entry. Your eyes dart to where he’s pointing and sure enough there’s a small puddle of water pooling by it. Not knowing how long the rain would continue, you knew you had to deal with the issue.

You grab Jane’s camping gear that holds numerous amount of supplies in all of its various pockets. She always came extra prepared no matter the occasion. You take out a washcloth, scooting over to the entrance to soak up the forming puddle. You decide to leave it there neatly tucked underneath where the water was finding its way in.

“ Alright, but if you snore I'm kicking you out,” you warn, but it’s more playful than serious. Something to lighten the mood before you go to bed. A way to dissipate whatever tension’s built up so you'd be able to fall asleep. 

It’s hard to cut through the tension and alleviate its symptoms when your shelter from the storm seems to shrink the more you chat with Bucky. And now sitting right next to him—shoulder to shoulder—it seems like a damn near impossible task. 

" I’ll take my chances. But just so you know, I don’t go down without a fight,” he winks at you, your shoulders brushing. Your heart rate picks up and it takes everything within you to stare into his eyes and not focus on the way that simple contact sent a shiver down your spine. 

His eyes drift to your lips causing your breath to hitch. The implications of where this could go are enough to pull you away from his spell. 

“ Goodnight,” you choke out. Subtly rushing over to your sleeping bag and settling into it. You don’t see when he shakes his head, but you do hear how he chuckles lowly. He mumbles something under his breath, but you can’t pick it up. 

He makes his way over to Jane’s sleeping bag, but lays on top of it instead of nestling into it. Choosing to cover himself only in the maroon fleece blanket that was draped over your body too. 

“ Goodnight,” he finally says, his body turning to face away from you. You respond by turning off the lantern. The space is now engulfed by darkness. Only the faintest of light shines in from the outside, letting your eyes trace the outlines of objects. 

 You turn to your side. Your back facing his. You take a deep breath, concentrating on the sound of the rain to hopefully lull you into a slumber. But the air felt too thick and your body was burning up from the heat radiating under the blanket. There was a good foot or so separating your body and Bucky’s. And yet, you could feel the heat radiating off of him as if he was pressed up right against you. 

It was too much. You swore you started sweating, so you shuffled under the covers and out of the sleeping bag. Every movement slow and deliberate as if to not snap the rope keeping the palpable tension in place. 

When only the plush fleece covered your body, the heat radiated less. But the fluttering of the blanket caused Bucky’s cologne to waft your way. A pleasant scent of musky woodiness with a hint of something that was entirely him. You gripped the cover tightly and counted to ten in your head. You were going mad. 

“ Would you stop hogging the blanket? ” Bucky muttered from beside you. There were a lot of things he wanted to tell you to stop doing. Because you and your constant fidgeting were driving him crazy. Every fiber of his being holding back from doing something to snap that rope. 

You didn’t realize you had been pulling it your way until he mentioned it. Your grip on it loosened,“ Sorry. I wasn’t hogging it though,” you argued for no reason other than to fill the silence. 

“ Yes, you were.” 

“ No, I wasn’t.” 

There was something about the proximity of your bodies that made the blanket seem smaller. Like there was no possible way it could equally cover both of your sleeping forms. Maybe this is what caused you to then tug at it, however, he holds it firmly to himself too.  

Persistently you pull at the blanket again. He pulls back—a tug of war ensues between you. You can hear him huff in the darkness, but you're not letting up. Bucky couldn't care less about the blanket. He only cared about not letting you get the upper hand. His competitive streak showing.  

While you solely really didn’t want to let him win. 

You wrap the end of the blanket around yourself—almost like a cacoon. The delicate fleece encases you. Leaving the bare minimum amount for Bucky to cover himself with. 

“ You have got to be one of the most stubborn people I have ever met in my goddamn life,” he practically growls as he yanks forcefully on the blanket. A tiny yelp escapes you as you get pulled along with it. 

You underestimated the strength of the star pitcher. 

You end up on top of him. The blanket now an extra cushy barrier between your bodies. In the dim light, your eyes lock, and you can faintly see the outline of a boyish grin on his face. You don’t move away. There’s like an invisible force that keeps you there. Your body pressed against his feeling his warmth tenfold. You can’t tell if either of you are breathing because all you're aware of now is how his heart beats in time with yours. 

“ You’re insufferable you know that?” you swallow hard, your voice lacking its usual bite.

“ You sure about that, sweetheart?” he challenges, his voice barely above a whisper. His lips brushing against yours with feather-light contact.

When had your lips gotten so close? 

You don’t know who leans in first. The one who finally breaks the standoff because your lips seem to meet at the same time. The kiss is sweet, but with a slight hesitance to it. As if neither of you are completely sure the other wants this. Or more like neither of you believes this is happening. However, when his hands grip the back of your thighs, sliding your legs from on top of him to his sides so you straddle him—you believe it. And when your hands find themselves threading in his hair—he believes it. 

One kiss that tests the waters turns into one that slowly sinks into the feeling. Until the two of you fully submerge into the depths of whatever has been simmering between you for what seems like too long. Delicate kisses that get more heated—more intense as your lips continue to meet. Bucky beams at the fact that you’re no longer pushing, but pulling into him. His craving for you only increasing now that he’s had a taste. 

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, slow and gentle. Asking for permission to deepen the kiss. Bucky Barnes isn’t the type to be slow and gentle—but when it comes to you he finds himself wanting to relish every second he gets. Not knowing when he’ll get another moment like this with you again. 

Your lips part enough for him to slip his tongue in to truly kiss you like he wanted to. As soon as you grant access he takes full opportunity to explore every corner of your mouth. His tongue molding with yours in fervor. Your fingers lightly tug at his hair while his hands roam your body memorizing every curve and dip. Wherever he gripped and caressed, his touch left heat in its wake. 

A heat you had to contain before it consumed you both. 

“ If you think you’re getting lucky tonight—think again. This is the most you’ll get,” You say breathlessly, pulling away to help your lungs remember what oxygen is. 

He groans, breath panting, the outline of his pout evident in the dim light,“ Don’t do this to me, sweetheart. Can’t leave me like this.” His voice a desperate whine that allured you to keep going. 

“ Too bad. You're dreaming if you think this is going any further.” 

“ God, you don’t wanna know what I've dreamed about.” 

“ Shut up,” you cut off his groan with another kiss. Fierce enough to silence him immediately. He hopes you shut him up like this more often. 

Your lips meet again in a hasty lock. No hesitation now as your tongues meet quicker. You seem to be obsessed with his hair as you run your fingers through it again. He shivers at the touch. His hands slide under your sweater to trail along your soft skin. Keeping his hands along your back and waist. Teetering around the boundary you drew, so he didn’t get carried away. But it was hard when kissing you felt as good as throwing the perfect game—maybe even better.

He realizes the emotions you bring out of him are worth a lifetime waiting for.

He pulls away this time to catch his breath, his hands sliding up your body to cup your face,“ I’m in no rush, sweetheart. I’ve got all the time in the world to take it all the way—make you fall for me.” 

You hum, leaning into his touch,“ You seem sure of yourself. ”

His voice is rough yet affectionate when he speaks,“ I’m sure of you, sweetheart. You’re worth every second, and I’m not stopping until you see it too.” 

He gives you one final tender kiss. One that's full of promise for the future. You weren’t sure if it was his words or the meaning in the kiss that stole your breath away. 

After a few seconds, you both pull away. Separating your bodies from each other to provide that much-needed space before lines were crossed.

“ Goodnight, Bucky,” you say, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how you would keep your hands and lips to yourself come tomorrow. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat when you called him by his nickname. Bringing a genuine smile to his face, loving the way it sounded coming from you. 

“ Goodnight, Y/n.”

Even after saying goodnight, the two of you can’t fall asleep immediately. You try to, but there are small moments in the night where you drift back to each other. Where in the darkness your lips meet again and again—satiating the tension in parts. Where your hands find themselves under the covers and layers of clothing. Flaming the fans of desire just enough so it doesn’t completely burn out, but smoldering to be reignited at any moment’s chance. 

You don’t realize when you fall asleep. Your eyelids growing heavy at some point tangled up in his body under the covers. Your face in the crook of his neck. His head resting on top of yours. Your bodies fit like puzzle pieces like they were meant to be connected in every way. 

It’s not until that morning when you wake up and find yourself in his arms, snuggled into his side, that the events of last night sink in. You pull away the tiniest bit. Merely enough to be able to get a look at him. The brown strands of his hair tousled and clinging to his forehead. The slope of his nose, his dark lashes fanned delicately against his skin, and the tiniest parting of his lips. He looks peaceful—almost angelic as he slumbers. 

You’re itching to sketch the image in front of you. 

You can’t stop yourself from reaching out to touch the strands at his forehead. It’s enough to have his eyes flutter open, their color brighter in the daylight. He gives you a lazy smile the instant he realizes last night wasn’t a dream and you really were here, nestled in his arms. 

No words were exchanged, but both of you were conscious of the line you had drawn last night. And yet, you both also knew that in time, that line would be crossed again and again. Until the line blurred into oblivion.

[ghostfacesvalentine]

Princess treatment only - MultiMuse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not many, some mentions of killing, but nothing graphic. Kind of fluffy

Type: HC’s

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Some HC’s as to how the muses would give the reader the princess treatment.

Notes: I don’t know where I was going with this, but this is mainly fluff, maybe sometime I’ll spice it up. I just had to get my writing juice brewing. Not proofread at all just go.

Jason Voorhees: Honestly, would treat you like a princess regardless. Will pick flowers for you when he’s outside. Always lets you borrow his flannels. Always walks in front of you to make sure there’s no danger, but looks back constantly to make sure there’s no danger behind you?? lmao. You won’t ever have to lift a finger when you’re with him. Literally at your beck and call. Will try his best not to kill in front of you, but sometimes it just ?? happens lol. Tries to be soft when touching you because you’re literally the most perfect thing that has ever crossed his path.

Michael Myers: Is your literal bodyguard. Will follow you anywhere and everywhere, you might as well call him your shadow. Lets you hug him and climb onto his lap whenever. Won’t hug you back yet, working on it. Nobody comes near you, no exceptions. Sorry. Stares at you most of the time. Can’t say it, but you’re literally flawless to him. Will use his body as a shield for you. Would kill anything for you. Eventually learns to put his palm against your cheek and that’s his second greatest accomplishment, the first being bagging you, literally and figuratively.

Tiffany Valentine: You won’t ever have to worry about a thing when you’re with her. Always gets her hands dirty for you. Lots of cheek and neck kisses. Praises your looks all the time. She will always brag about you whether it’s what you do, how you look, anything and everything. She would always make sure you have the latest clothes. She’d make sure you always had your staple make up pieces available. When it comes to killing, she’d get creative, that way you guys will never have literal blood on your hands, especially you, never you.

Billy Loomis: Lots of nicknames. Kinda only has a soft spot for you. Can never ever tell you no and stick to it. Won’t hesitate to kill anyone who makes fun of him for this. Drives you everywhere. Ties your shoes. Always makes time for you. Will help you pick out your outfits and tell you which one he likes and which one he doesn’t. Will wear the bracelets you make him. Anything in his closet is yours, help yourself. Always touching you, holding your hand, holding your waist, you’ve infatuated him enough to have him carelessly cover you in soft kisses, laying his head on your shoulder. Kinda creative with dates tbh.

Stu Macher: You will forever be his princess. Will carry you across puddles. Lots of cheek and forehead kisses. Would learn how to paint your nails for you during class. Always makes sure you have a good grade on your exam, whether he has to swap out the papers after class or make sure you get the right answers, you can absolutely count on him. You don’t have to use your brain around him, no worries. Thinks you look adorable in his sweaters, especially oversized. Loves when you sit on his lap. Prioritizes you over anything and everything. Even if you don’t like horror movies, Stu would absolutely find something else for you to watch.

Patrick Bateman: Honestly, when he falls in love with you, it’s princess treatment only. Will give you a skin care routine and help you follow through with it. Kind of makes you feel dumb, but not like a stupid dumb, more like a ‘oh dear sweet baby you are a little dumb but pretty, but dumb, let me help you’ Same thing if you fall asleep with your makeup on, Patricks on the way with the micellar makeup remover. Will speak up for you if you don’t like a service, he won’t be mean about it unless he has to. Always makes sure you’re hydrated (also part of your skin care routine). You will be a housewife/girlfriend. Feel free to splurge, you are his trophy princess after all. Will take you anywhere you want. Will make things up for you if he has to be at work late.

Leatherface: I don’t ever see a scenario where Bubba does not treat his s/o like a princess. It’s like part of the deal. Either way, expect wild flowers all the time. It’s his favorite thing to do for you. He even makes you a vase and makes sure your flowers are always fresh. Will literally die and kill for you without any hesitation. At his knees for you. Bubba will crawl to you across pins and needles if you asked him to. He’s always making sure you’re comfortable and safe, never hungry or in your mind for too long. Melts at your touch. Would learn how to dance just to dance to your favorite songs. Always gets awestruck with you.

Harley Quinn: Will absolutely take you anywhere you want, no matter how random it is. Always dazed when looking at you. Keeps pictures of you all dressed up in her bag or car or wherever she goes. Selina gave her a heart shaped locket once and yeah, you guessed it, the cutest picture of you is in there. Doesn’t hesitate to shoot any man for you. Leaves your face covered in red kisses. She would do anything to make you laugh. Anything you want, it’s yours! Just point at it.

Poison Ivy: Pamela will always spoil you, regardless of how you act. You’ve heard of people growing gardens for their s/o, she would grow forests for you. She’s the most gentle with you, gentle caresses and soft kisses. Paints your nails, brushes your hair while adding flowers into the locks. Always admires dressing you up and putting make up on you. Almost never wants you to leave. Slow dances with you. She’d do anything to keep you out of danger. You think Michael is a good bodyguard? Pamela is the bodyguard.

Bruce Wayne: hhnnnngh. Ok. No but you are the Princess Wayne. Spoiling you rotten goes without saying. Anything your little heart desires is yours. Helps you get dressed. His favorite is helping you with your stockings. Gentle kisses everywhere. Brushes your hair. Lifting you up constantly when there’s a crack in the pavement. Always the driver. Your safety is always first, always. No because whatever you want means whatever you want, which is why there are hello kitty plushies scattered across the Wayne manor. You’ve somehow managed to get your own cozy theater in there too. Princess treatment also means Bruce having to lay back just a teeny bit on Batman just to guard you too while you sleep.

Jason Todd: nmmnnmf YES. I don’t see him treating his s/o any other way. Lots of pet names. Loooves to help you get dressed. Sits you on the counter as he cooks. Never lets you out of his sight. Anything you want it’s yours. Always buying you cute socks and letting you wear his clothes. Forehead kisses. Oh man it’s so disgusting how much Jason loves his princess. Always taking pictures of you, no matter the angle. Would 1000000% tie bows into your hair if you asked.

Billy Hargrove: Honestly if he’s in love with you, princess treatment is granted. Always giving you his jackets, especially when you wear skirts or dresses out. Lifting you over mud and puddles. Subtle kisses on the head while you’re out. Body guard mode activated. He kinda becomes your shadow, appearing out of nowhere and greeting you with a kiss on the forehead. Ties your shoes without asking. Wiping any tears or smeared makeup off your face. Winks at you all the timeee.

Steve Harrington: Kind of similar to Stu, he always makes sure you pass your class. Poor princess doesn’t use her brain in school, too busy trying to stay awake. Always gives you his jacket, even if you don’t want to wear it, he’ll wrap it around you. Finds any excuse to carry you or pick you up. So affectionate. Kisses on the cheek, lips, forehead. Sometimes he will miss and kiss your eye but ugh it’s so fucking cute. Only has eyes for you. Tying your shoes, putting your socks on, literally just dressing you in general is a must. Literally will take you wherever you want, whenever. Drops everything when you call. Such a sucker with the nicknames for you.

Steve Rogers: Ugh another one. Think of him as a body guard who you get to kiss and sit on his lap. Always drops everything to make sure you’re okay. Cannot take his eyes off of you. So smooth with the reassurance. Kisses on the forehead constantly. Always tucks you in. Would help you bathe if you asked. Pulls you onto his lap every time you both sit down. Whatever you want, you’ll get. If he can’t do it, he’ll find a way. Cups your face in his hands when you cry, kisses your tears away. Ugh he’s your literal teddy bear, if you don’t like to be smothered? Pick another muse.

Bucky Barnes: Similar to Steve, he’s your shadow, but he’s a little more … upfront with it. He’s constantly wrapping an arm around you, eyeing anyone who’s eyeing you. He’s so gentle if you’re sensitive. Kissing your cheek is his favorite. Always lingering his fingertips around your crevices. Makes sure you’re never hungry. Always up before you are. Lets you sleep in. If you fight, he will never raise his voice at you. Ready to carry you if you’re too tired to keep walking around. Slow dances with you just because. He’s always worried for you, making sure you’re okay, you’re not sick or hungry. Pet names with him are a must.

Loki Laufeyson: Okkkk and in what situation did you ever think loki was not going to give you the princess treatment??? You are literal Princess Laufeyson. Though he, and Sebastian maybe, are the only ones who can probably, maybe, say no to you, if you pout enough maybe he’ll come to a compromise with you. He never wants to upset you though. Would literally wipe out a small world for you. Or a few. Ok even betray anyone for you. Always cleaning your smeared makeup, fixing your hair, wiping you because you spilled your drink. He’s so devoted to you, im going to throw up. He devours you with his eyes from a distance, you’re never leaving his sight.

Cloud Strife: Ugh ok. Literal bodyguard, as he’s hired to be at times. At your beck and call, though he’d never admit it. Such a sucker and can never say no to you. Though it may take time, he can start calling you ‘baby’ ‘sweet girl’ ‘love’ he’s so infatuated with you and doesn’t know how to handle it. Your safety is his priority. Always listens to you ramble on and on. Brings you flowers for no reason other than he was thinking of you. He’s such a sucker for you. Follows you everywhere.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’s probably the most tame out of everyone but that doesn’t mean he’s not a sucker. There are rules he’s willing to bend for you, literally willing to kill anyone that has the slightest interest in hurting you. Always makes sure you’re fed and if you want a sweet treat, he’s on it. Listens to you talk, even if it’s silly. Dances with you almost every night. He’s so graceful with it. Dressing you and feeding you is his favorite but he might throw in a few teases “poor sweet baby, you haven’t woken up yet to tell your left foot from your right” as you rub your eyes with the wrong shoes on. Of course he’s willing to help, even if he has the idea that you do this on purpose, he's more than happy to oblige.

Spencer Reid: Though his job wouldn’t encourage it, he still drops almost everything to answer you. Always finds a way to share time with his job and his attention to you. Reads to you all the time, whether in person or over the phone. He’s always making comparisons of you being the princess in most fictional stories that you both come across. He’s so gentle with you. Caresses your face all the time. You lay your head on his lap or sit on his lap as he reads away. Always making sure to keep up with your well-being before his own. Would 10000% pick up a habit of writing you little notes or picking flowers for you or taking Polaroids or something to remind you of your everlasting presence in his mind.

[lavenderspence]

Missing the happy hormone | S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: emotional reader, period mention, fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Apparently Spencer Reid could make anything better - even the emotional disaster of being on your period

A/N: First, huge thank you to the cutie that sent in this request, you literally caught me while on my period so this was born. Also, here’s to my inability to write short fics, this is your only warning that i can make and will make anything long, lol. Also, my titles suck omg. And shoutout to my crazy bestie for making me a Mamma Mia girly, she rocks.

But also, happy one month to this blog! When I carved out this little space for myself a month ago I wasn’t really sure how I’d feel being back here and writing again, but so far it’s been a treat. A huge thank you for all of your support and love and thank you to my mutuals and everyone that interacted with my blog. 💕 Here’s to many more months to come!

Request: spencer x fem!reader on her period/ovulating and shes in tears all the time?? Im ovulating and have been crying for hours and keep calling my mom lmaoo he’d been so lovely and sweet I know it I can feel it in my bones

masterlist

It was a slow day at the BAU. The most exciting thing in the 6 hours Spencer had spent at work was Rossi’s invitation to dinner the following weekend. 

Paperwork had piled high after their last 2 cases, so every team member was hunched over their desk, writing and revising reports. It was a never-ending cycle - finish a report, close the file, open a new one, and start all over again.

His eyes had started getting tired after four and a half hours, his hand had started cramping and he was down two pens so far, yet there was still a prominent pile on his desk.

He suspected Morgan and Emily might have pushed a file or two from theirs onto his load, seeing as he was getting done the fastest. Regardless, every few hours JJ was bringing even more to pile on top of everything that wasn’t finished, so buried in paperwork they stayed - no matter how fast he wrote or read, or how used to the load he was.

He was just thinking about getting up to prepare a fresh pot of coffee so he could function properly for a few more hours when his phone started ringing. He felt around the pockets of his suit jacket, where it sat draped on his chair, and then pulled it free. 

His display showed an incoming call, a picture of you as he hugged you, hands around your middle and face almost buried into your neck, a soft smile gracing both your faces. A scenery rich with reds, browns, and yellows stood behind you, the beauty of fall was nothing short of spectacular. 

The picture you’d taken last year when the team spent a weekend at Rossi’s cabin in the woods, surrounded by the beauty of landscapes and leaves, nature for miles. 

He accepted the call right away, a small smile on his face. 

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, if a little raspy from misuse. He hadn’t talked much in the last few hours - just a distracted short answer here or a hum there. He was happy you were calling, though, welcoming the reprieve from the most recent report. 

It was silent for a few seconds, and he wondered absentmindedly if maybe you hadn’t called him on accident, and then there came a tiny little sniffle from your side. 

“Sweetheart?” He prompted, “Are you there? What’s going on?” Worry was starting to creep into the base of his spine, but he still remained calm and kept his voice gentle. 

“I’m here. Hi.” Another small sniffle, “All’s good. Just…I was just wondering how much longer you’d be gone.” Your voice was small,like you thought you might upset him by asking, and a little crackly, like you yourself were upset about something. 

His eyebrows furrowed, and he checked the time quickly - 3:57 pm. 

“Probably about two more hours, there’s a lot of paperwork we need to go through.” His eyes met Emily’s as she sent him a curious, questioning look. 

“Oh, okay.” The resignation was clear in your voice, “I’ll see you later then.” The call ended abruptly, and it took him a second to catch up.

He couldn’t help but feel like not everything was as good as you claimed it was. For one, you rarely called to ask when he’d be home - you knew his work could span into the late hours, or even stretch for days. You let him update you on any changes in his work schedule. 

In your interactions, your voice was usually upbeat and teasing - especially on the phone. Your kindness was always evident in your voice, as was your mood. You were a sunshine person, if he ever met one, that’s probably why you and Penelope formed such a close bond upon meeting. 

There was something that nagged him - a change in your mood he could pick up on just by your voice - too low, too small, and the cracks that he could now identify as he replayed your conversation in his head. You were keeping yourself from crying out, and yet there was nothing more apparent than the tears in your voice. And that made him worry. 

“Reid, are you okay?” Emily’s voice snapped him from the hard stare he’d been giving his phone in the last several minutes since the call ended. 

“I…I don’t know.” His eye twitched, and he cleared his throat before he tried and failed to articulate exactly what was happening - he himself had a hard time understanding. One thing he knew was that he needed to get home. “I..um, I need to go. Can you, please?” He asked, gusting at the remaining three files on his desk before he pulled his suit jacket on and grabbed his satchel. 

Morgan and Emily shared a mildly concerned look before they both nodded their heads, “Yeah, go. Text to let us know if everything is okay.” Morgan reminded him before he exited the bullpen with a fast step and tried to keep calm.

He was aware the situation wasn’t anything that he needed to be incredibly worried over - if something was really wrong, he knew you would have let him know. Yet, he couldn’t help the way his heart constricted by the sound of your voice, or the overwhelming desire to come home and gently hold you, see what could have caused this behavior. 

You were curled up on the couch, watching as Donna helped Sophie get ready for her wedding, the gentle melody of “Slipping through my fingers” filling the empty apartment. Your eyes were watering, to the point that everything was starting to get blurry. A shaky exhale left your lips.

Today has simply been a rollercoaster. Kissing Spencer goodbye this morning was the highlight of the day. What followed was nothing short of an emotional disaster. 

You’d teared up during breakfast, images of picking berries with Spencer flying through your mind. The desire to make it a reality was strong. 

Following that had come the overwhelming urge to bawl your eyes out, for no apparent reason whatsoever. Just cry and cry until you had it all emptied out and you could take a deep breath and continue with your day. So, cry you did, and then you’d finished with your chores for the day. 

Apparently letting it all out and emptying your tear supply hadn’t happened. Seeing as around 3:30 you’d started missing your boyfriend so much, the need to hear his voice had won out, so you’d called him. You felt the need to have him home to hold you because this month’s visit from mother flow was making you feel like a crybaby.

But then there was disappointment at the notion that you needed to wait close to 3 hours before that could happen. So you quickly ended the call before he could pick up on the tone of your voice, and then you shed a few tears. 

Now here you were, rewatching Mamma Mia because you really needed a pick me up, and once again, eyes shining as the tears started falling. At this point, it was a losing battle, so you let them fall, humming to the song with a broken voice. 

That’s exactly how Spencer found you, not a minute later. His keys were in his hand, the satchel on his shoulder, and he was just a little bit out of breath. 

The moment his eyes met you, they softened as he dropped everything and sat down next to you. His hand reached up and he cradled the side of your face, wiping your tears away. 

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper.

“Look at Donna painting Sophie’s nails, it’s...” You hiccuped, another wave of tears washing over you. “And you’re home, why are you home?” Your question was met with a furrow in his brow, as his thumbs continued wiping underneath your eyes. 

“You called.” He answered simply. 

“But you said-” He stopped you before you could finish your sentence.

“I did, yes. But you sounded off and sad, so. Want to tell me what’s going on?” He prompted you gently as he pushed your hair back and pulled you into his lap after, feeling like you needed the physical contact. 

You weren’t ashamed to admit it, per se, but you were ashamed that your hormones had caused him to leave work and race home to be with you. 

“It’s my period,” you mumbled, hands wrapping around his neck as you hid your face in his chest, too tired to prevent your eyes from watering again. “It’s been going on all day. Randomly, I’d just get so emotional, and the tears would start. I was missing you so much too, and then hearing the song, bam, tears again. I’m so done with this Spence.” You sounded barely coherent, with your face pushed as close to him as possible. 

It all made sense now, you’d been cranky a few days ago, and then you’d told him last night your cramps were unbearable, so he knew you were on your period, but right now he felt like an idiot for not figuring it out himself. 

“It’s okay, everything is fine. The drop in estrogen and progesterone, following your ovulation triggered this. This in turn reduced the production of serotonin, your happy hormone. So, we just need to boost it a bit.” He whispered into your ear as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“How?” You sighed into his chest, almost being able to pick up on the sound of his heartbeat.

He got deep in thought for a few seconds as you breathed in his scent, and a sense of calmness slowly overtook you now that he was home and holding you. One of his hands was running soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand, fingers interlocked. 

“How about we take a trip to the store and get you some snacks? We’ll pick up dinner on the way home and then I'll hold you some more and you'll pick a movie for us to watch.” He suggested, kissing the crown of your head once, twice, and many more times until you gave him an answer. 

“Yeah, yeah, I think that would help, but just having you here has done wonders.” You finally laid your head against his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. He smiled, and so did you. Having him here really had helped immensely, and when had it not? He was your other half, your rock, and even when your emotions ran rampant or you were feeling down, just his presence, his touch, and his understanding were enough to make it all okay. 

Later in the evening, Penelope sent you a photo of Sergio sleep-hugging a little plushy you’d gotten him, and the waterworks started all over again. Luckily, Spencer was there, wiping your tears and kissing your head, saying a thousand things without actually speaking a word.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Requests are open for both Spencer and Hotch if you want to send any!

[lyneira]

♡ the little rival ♡

-> how the genshin men would react when a kid innocently tells you they want to marry you when they grow up

based on this request!

Gently lets the kid down

Thoma, Ayato, Zhongli, Kazuha, Tighnari, Albedo

He'll find the kid cute for saying such a thing as he understood where they were coming from. After all, who wouldn't want to marry someone as amazing as you? Though, he'd still want to set things straight because he was going to be the one to do it.

"They're a lovely person, aren't they?", he'll tell the child as he looks to you. The kid nods with excitement as they turn their gaze to you as well.

"Unfortunately, they'll already be married by the time you grow up", you blush at his implication, though the child begins to pout. He'd then continue, "Don't worry, you'll find your own special someone when you grow older. And I'm sure you'll treat them with as much love and respect as you already do for y/n"

Sees it as friendly competition

Childe, Venti, Gorou, Baizhu, Kaeya

"Aww, well it looks like I have a rival", he chuckles.

He would then proceed to initiate competitions between himself and the kid "for your hand". But really, these "competitions" were secretly just a way to pamper you.

He'd say stuff like, "Let's see who can pick the most pretty flowers for y/n!", or "Who can come up with the best dish for y/n?"

You'll end up having to be the judge of their hard work, choosing which one is your favorite. Whichever you choose, you'll end up with many flowers in your hands and hair (and maybe even a flower crown), getting full from their culinary creations, and be treated like royalty.

Gets "jealous"

Scaramouche, Itto, Kaveh, Heizou

"Oi get it in line, kid. They're already mine", he'd grab you by the waist and pull you close to him. He'd then give you a quick peck to the lips and smirk when the child's face wrinkles in disgust at the sight.

He doesn't care who it may be. A rival is a rival, and if anybody's seeking your hand, then they have to get through him first

(I also imagine if the kid sticks their tongue at him, he'd do it right back, LOL)

Dismisses the kid

Alhaitham, Xiao, Diluc, Cyno, Dainsleif

What nonsense was this kid talking about? Of course they weren't gonna be able to marry you even when they grew older. He scoffs at the notion and initially ignores them.

Yet, when he sees you shower the kid with affection, such as patting their head, squeezing them tightly in a hug, giving them nicknames, or calling them "adorable", a tinge of envy begins to creep up on him.

I see these guys either subtly getting closer to you, asking you for the same treatment without saying a word (but you'd know). OR they would simply take your hand and begin walking way, saying, "That’s enough doting on the child, let's go"

a/n: a fun prompt to write! Thank you to the anon who sent this request in!

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[emchante]

okay okayy from your prompt list would you consider using “ghosting their lips against yours before pulling back with a smug smirk, making you chase them desperately” and “pulling them closer by their belt” with franco?

crossing the line - f.c

masterlist | requesting rules

prompts: “ghosting their lips against yours before pulling back with a smirk” + “pulling them closer by the belt”

summary: after a long day together, you and franco relax in his apartment. there’s been an unspoken attraction between you both, and it finally bubbles over.

WARNINGS: nothing extreme or nsfw, gentle teasing and a make-out.

w.c. 1.2k+

a/n hii all! here’s a little franco blurb as a treat (esp for @yauchfilms !!) this is my first time writing for him, so i hope you all enjoy. more franco will definitely be on the way. let me know your thoughts via asks/anons, comments or reblogs. <3

it had been a long day. you were currently with franco, lounging in his apartment as what seemed to be indie music hummed softly from his speaker. the lights were dim, casting a warm glow throughout the room that helped bring the more relaxed vibe you were both going for.

it felt comfortable, natural— just the two of you winding down together like you usually did after a packed day. but today, it felt different.

in fact lately, there had been an undercurrent of something else.

it was in the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, or in the way he let his hands linger a little longer than considered friendly when he brushes past you. something unspoken, something that’s been quietly building between you both, as if waiting for a spark to set it off.

you weren’t certain about it all, though. it was no secret amongst your social group that you were infatuated with the boy. you feared your own feelings were deluding you, maybe making things up in your mind and justifying it because you had felt the same way.

“you’re staring at me,” franco murmured, interrupting your train of thought. you noticed how his lips quirked up into a smirk at your reaction, and you shook your head with a small smile.

he wasn’t wrong, you were staring at him while deep in thought. it was hard not to though, you felt the need to study his face and the way the light casted shadows upon it.

you wouldn’t admit it to him, though.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes at him, allowing the words to fall freely from your lips. “please, i’ve had to see it long enough today,” referring to the fact you’d been glued to each others sides the full day. “you wish.”

franco chuckled, leaning back against the sofa, as he stretched his arm in that casual, teasing way of his. “well, maybe i do.”

it was only a few seconds before you felt his hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer towards him. you didn’t object of course, allowing yourself to be moved farther into him.

his words hung between the both of you, heavier than you expected them to. it was very franco of him to drop small hints like these, leaving you second guessing yourself as usual. but this time, he didn’t pull back. instead, he continued to state into your eyes, an almost.. challenging glint within them. you felt the heat rising to your cheeks, a flutter of anticipation mixed with nerves.

you furrowed your brows at him, biting the inside of your cheek to steady yourself before you spoke up. “don’t start something you’re not going to finish, franco.”

“oh?” he raised his brows, tilting his head lightly to the side and you could see the playful spark light up in his expression. franco leaned in closer, beginning to close the distance between you, his face inches from yours. his voice dropped to a whisper as he murmured, “what if i do, corazona?”

your heart was pounding, each beat echoing in your chest as his breath mingled with your own. the closeness along with the term of endearment.. it was beginning to get a little too much. your eyes widened slightly as you watched his gaze flick to your lips before he licked his own, moving his eyes to peer back to yours.

you could barely breathe normally, so much so that the rhythm had become more labored subconsciously as you got caught up in your mind.

you began to lean in, eyes beginning to close as you got ready to settle into the kiss— but it never even happened.

franco had pulled back, smirk painted across his face as mischief lit up his gaze. the teasing lingered in the air, his retreat sparking more frustration within you. he looked so pleased with himself, and you knew he was, the chuckles and comments about the moment were enough to let you know. however, with your frustration came something else— adrenaline.

before you had time to think about it your hand was reaching forward, and you grabbed franco by the belt. your fingers curled into the fabric as you pulled him towards you, and it completely wiped the smirk off of his face. it was now franco with the widened eyes and shocked expression, which in turn made you smirk.

there was no time for teasing or dwelling on it though, as you moved your hands up to grab onto his shirt collar before pulling him down to meet your lips.

franco melted into the kiss instantly, moving his from from your shoulder as his hand moved to your face and cupped your cheek. the kiss was soft at first, tentative, like you were both savoring the taste of the moment, this leap of friendship into something more.

the restraint didn’t last long, though.

the months of tension, the quiet looks, the playful banter— it rushed forward all at once, sweeping you both up as the kiss deepened. it slow and intense, every touch adding to the moment. franco’s free hand slid around your waist to your back, pulling you right onto his lap.

you pulled away from the kiss momentarily, resting your forehead against his own. funnily enough, it was franco who was now chasing your lips. he cursed under this breath as he opened his eyes, a small smile on his face.

one of your hands made its way up into franco’s hair, combing your fingers through the back of it as you both sat in silence for a moment longer.

“it was about time,” franco muttered, swallowing thickly as a small chuckle escaped his lips. you rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you sighed at him.

you didn’t bother entertaining his teasing, simply muttering a “shut up” before your lips were back onto his. this kiss became heated much faster than anticipated. you tugged in franco’s hair, which caused a small moan to escape him before his tongue swiped along your bottom lip.

he moved his hand from your face to join his other at your waist for a few moments, before they trailed down to your ass. you pulled back the tiniest bit, muttering “watch yourself” before you leaned back in to continue.

your kisses were hungry, a rhythm of urgency and need, franco’s mouth hot and insistent against yours. you angled your face to continue deepening the kiss, as one of your hands moved to his jaw, holding it tightly.

after a few more moments of the heated makeout, you both pulled back— breathless with swollen lips. you licked your lips as you breathed heavily, trying to steady it back into its normal pace.

franco stared at you in slight awe at what had just happened, he had never expected you would be the one to finally initiate it. it was something he could get used to, though. and he didn’t have to dream about it for long.

within 30 minutes, you were both back in the frenzy of kissing each other like it was vital, like you’d lose each other if you stopped.

[rememberwren]

Alternately thinking about how I originally wanted to write this prompt.

You and Simon’s breakup is brutal. Break is the proper term for it. There is no slow wearing away of feelings, no clear descent from lovers into strangers. It is a brutal car crash of a thing with far too many feelings left on both sides.

Living together makes it worse. Simon starts keeping odd hours at work to avoid you, and every time the two of you pass, it is less like ships in the night and more like ghosts. You miss him so badly, and he’s right there, except he’s never really there—never emotionally present, and you can’t keep waiting around waiting for him to be.

It’s your friends who suggest that the best way to get over Simon is to get underneath someone else. Your heart isn’t in it, but you’re also desperate—desperate for something that’s going to make the pain lessen, desperate to feel good for even a moment.

During those odd hours Simon is at work, you dress yourself up, going through the motions. Your friends have set you up on a blind date and the guy is on his way now to the apartment. You’re rushing through the living room with one heel in your hand when Simon’s voice rings out:

“Got plans?”

He nearly scares you to death melting from the shadows of the living room. He’s been sitting on the couch in the quiet dark, though only God knows why.

Your instinct is to lie, but he already knows. He’s emotionally unavailable, not stupid. The expression on his face is its typical one: closed off, cool, but there something in the way his hands hang between his legs, elbows on his knees. The slope of his shoulders. Something.

There’s a knock at the door.

Simon stands, slow and quiet.

“I’ll get it. Shoe’s in the hallway closet.”

God it’s a nightmare. You rush to the hallway marveling at the telenovela your life has become. Sure enough, your other heel is in the closet, tricksy bastard. You are rushing back to the living room when the sound of voices catches your attention and you stop, skidding on stockinged-feet.

Treat her well, Simon is saying to your date, shaking the guy’s hand. She’s a good one. Few and far between.

You send your date out, telling him that you’ll meet him at the elevator, and whirl on Simon. “Why would you say that? You could have told him anything—you could have ruined my date before it started. Why—?”

“Really have been closed off,” he says, looking unbearably sad, mouth struggling to smile. “You don’t know me at all.”

He leans in and brushes his lips against your cheek and tells you to have a nice time and to be safe, like your heart isn’t cracked down the middle, like his own isn’t the same.