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impala-dreamer · 23 days

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Save Me - Part One

A Short Story

~ Sometimes, when life seems the brightest, shadows creep in. After announcing their engagement to the world, Jensen's fiancé is kidnapped. With the help of a friend, she tries to fight her way back home to him.~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader, Dean Winchester

7,160 Words Total. Part one: 3,209

Warnings: My kind of Super Angst. Blood. Injury. Kidnapping. It's really sad...

A/N: Written for @jacklesversebingo "No one's coming to save you. Get up!"

PART ONE ~ PART TWO

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Her thoughts were hazy; her head throbbing from the repeated blows. The blood that had trickled down her neck had dried and she could feel how matted her hair was around the wounds.

Her muscles ached, her skin was bruised and broken in more than one spot. The cramped trunk she’d been forced into and the bumpy ride had nearly crippled her. She’d tried to count the turns they took, the miles they raced across, but disorientation and fear had been too much to overcome.

Wrists and knees bound in scratchy, rough rope and eyes blinded by a scarf, Y/N was led from the car and dragged up a few stairs. She could hear a lock turn and the hinges of a door creak. Boots on a wooden floor; the heavy breathing of her captor.

The house was warm. Heat was pulsing up from hissing radiators and the smell hung heavy in the air, mixing with the stench of stale cigarettes and rotting trash. Still, she was grateful for the warmth. January in Indianapolis was freezing and the trunk hadn’t exactly been insulated.

“Where are you taking me?” she whimpered, cringing as the fingers around her upper arms dug into her flesh.

There was no answer.

“Please! Don’t do this. We can work something out.”

When she refused to take another step, she was yanked forward and thrown into another room. Her sneakers squeaked and she recognized the sound of cheap linoleum flooring under her rubber soles.

A kitchen. Knives. A backdoor, maybe.

She twisted against the tight hold. “Please, just let me go. I swear to god I won’t go to the cops. No charges pressed. Please. We can get out of this mess.”

The giant hand gripped her harder and Y/N groaned at the pain.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

A gruff voice shouted by her ear. “Shut up!”

She bit her tongue but refused to give up. “Let me go!”

With all of her strength, she pivoted to the right, shoving her elbow hard into the solid body behind her. She heard a pained grunt and the hand holding her released. She spun around the other way and tried to run, but it was no use. Still tied, her knees buckled and she began to fall.

The hands were back, yanking her harshly back onto her feet. She screamed and fist collided with her jaw. Sparks erupted in the blackness of her vision, pain spread across her face.

“Told you to shut up!”

Y/N held her breath and squeezed her lips shut.

Tugged forward again, she stumbled deeper into the kitchen and heard a door open. Cold air hit her face and she shuddered.

“Where are we going?” Tears soaked into the blindfold. “Please…”

Hands released her and Y/N teetered on the edge of what felt like the top of a staircase.

A basement.

She panicked.

“No, no, no!”

“I told you to shut the fuck up!”

His fist connected with her temple and Y/N fell. She counted four stairs before every sensation and thought vanished.

“You sure we should be doing this here?”

Y/N looked over from the edge of the bed at Jensen who was fixing his hair in the mirror. He was primped and picture perfect for a busy day at the convention. Tight black tee under a denim jacket, immaculately ripped jeans, and brown boots. Add to it all the longer hair and a beard- he looked a little too good.

He caught her eye in the mirror and smiled. “I do. I think this is the best place to do it.”

Y/N squirmed nervously and lifted her left leg onto her knee so she could retie her sneaker for the tenth time. Her engagement ring glimmered and she sighed happily at the diamond.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

And yet-

“What if they don’t like me? Or they get mad, or-”

Jensen spun around and dipped his chin, looking at her with a stern gaze. “Then I’ll kill them. All of them.”

His voice had dropped to a deep, rough growl and Y/N laughed.

“OK, Dean.”

Jensen exhaled loudly and straightened up, returning to himself. He closed the space between them with two long strides and fell to one knee. He took her hand, the same hand that he’d held two weeks ago when he’d asked her to marry him.

“I promise,” he said softly. “They’re gonna love you.”

Her cheeks warmed and her tension eased.

“How can you be sure?”

Green eyes beamed as he smiled.

“Because I love you.”

Pain woke her.

Stabbing, white-hot pain that spread through the entirety of her left side. Though she couldn’t tell where it manifested from, several points along her body had made contact with the concrete floor and spikes of pain radiated from each one.

Her cheek was smashed against the frozen floor and her nose ached. Gingerly, she rolled onto her back. The scarf over her eyes had shifted a bit and she could see a faint stream of light surrounded by creeping shadows.

The air was frigid and damp, and smelled like mold. She shivered as the cold seeped through her thin clothing and into her soul.

Fear wrapped itself around her lungs and squeezed. Her breathing quickened, her sore jaw trembled. She tasted blood, felt every bruise, every splinter of bone. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the last twelve hours.

Late evening. The convention center. Walking from the loading dock to the back parking lot. Low hanging ceiling; giant yellow lights. Cars jammed in every spot. A dirty white van. A shiny black Explorer. An old gold Camry.

The Camry.

Something heavy hitting her head. Her ears rang. The warmth of blood oozed across her scalp.

She could feel the trunk closing around her, the thin upholstery. The stink of gasoline wrinkled her nose.

Her chest burned. Her throat closed.

She screamed.

“Somebody help me! Help!”

She thrashed against the ground; ropes still would tight around her wrists and legs.

“Help!”

Turning her face back to the concrete, she wiggled her forehead against the stone, pushing the blindfold up and away from her eyes. She blinked into the darkness and let out a hopeless cry.

The basement wasn’t big, but it was old and dark. Light streamed down from the door at the top of the staircase but she’d rather not have any.

Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, spiders lurked in corners, ghosts swept like cold breath over her skin.

“Please…” Tears flowed freely, dripping down her cheeks and onto the floor. She let go, sobbing into the darkness, lost and terrified. “Help me…”

The stage was bigger than she thought it would be; the curtains heavier. She stood off to the side, hiding in the wings while Jensen awed the crowd.

He really was something magnificent. With a tiny smile, he could captivate a crowd. One well-timed wink could send them to their knees, have them swooning and begging for more.

Y/N watched happily as he answered questions and animatedly told a few stories about his work on The Boys. He had a million stories and she would never get tired of hearing them.

She could feel the hour waning and nerves crept up her spine. She steadied her breathing and twirled the platinum ring on her finger. It was too big, she thought, but it didn’t matter. It could be a lump of camel dung and she’d love it. He’d given it to her.

Finally, Jensen cleared his throat and threw a glance over his shoulder at her. It was time.

“I’m sure most of you have heard the rumors,” he said, microphone clutched in his left hand. “So, I thought we’d put them to rest right now.”

The audience’s anticipation was nearly tangible. Hopeful silence rang through the room.

“If you’ll indulge me, I’d like to introduce you to my fiance…”

Right arm extended, Jensen gestured to Y/N and she took a deep breath before stepping out into the bright lights.

Her hands were numb. The skin around her wrists was bloody and stinging. In a panic, she twisted her hands, chewed on the knots, screamed through her teeth.

The desperate cries rang off the leaky stone walls and bounced back at her. She was sure that no one outside would be able to hear her, even if they weren’t in the middle of nowhere.

She had no idea, really, where she was. She did know that they had driven for a long while, and most of the journey had been on uneven, unpaved roads. Surely, they were well outside of the city and anywhere there might be neighbors nearby to hear her pleas for help.

Giving up and afraid of breaking her teeth on the knot, she rolled onto her knees and carefully shuffled over to the stairs. The wooden banister was old and unfinished, just bare wood hammered into place. She rubbed the rope against the edge, hoping to fray the strands and break free.

“What are you gonna do once you get those ropes off?”

Y/N froze and looked around, searching the shadows for the source of the familiar voice.

“Hello?”

“You got a plan?”

“What?” She squinted into the shadows but there was nothing there. She was alone.

“I said, do you have a plan to get out of here?”

“Who’s there!”

A deep, kind laugh. “You know who it is, Y/N/N. What you don’t know is how to get out of here.”

Her heart raced. She did know who it was, but she wouldn’t admit it. If she was hearing his voice, she was going insane. Or she was concussed, which seemed more likely.

Can you go crazy from that?

“Depends on how hard they hit you, I guess,” he said.

Y/N grit her teeth and tried to ignore him. She went back to work furiously rubbing against the post.

“Keep going, you almost got it.”

She sighed. “Go away.”

Another laugh, softer, under his breath. “You don’t mean that. You need me.”

Y/N groaned and kept at her task. Tiny specks of dust and fibers danced in the faint light and she picked up speed, forcing it harder into the wood.

The rope snapped before she could steady herself and she fell forward, smashing her forehead into the corner of the post.

“Fuck!”

Dizzy, she tore the broken twine away and sat back on her ass. She kicked her legs out and untied the rope around her legs. Finally able to move, she jumped to her feet.

The sudden movement was too much for her head and she fell onto the steps, palms crushing into the damp wood.

“Be careful…”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the phantom voice and crawled on aching hands and knees up the steep stairs.

Once at the top, she held her breath and pressed her ear to the door, listening.

If anyone was near, they made no sound.

Carefully, she stood up and grabbed the knob. Praying for release, she turned the brass but it caught halfway around. She turned it again and again hoping something would change, but it was locked.

“Hello!” She beat against the door, kicked it hard. “Help me! Hello!” Fists pounded, her throat tore. “Let me out!”

Someone on the other side kicked at the door and it rattled in the frame.

“Shut the fuck up!” he bellowed, scaring her even more.

Y/N jerked back from the door and felt all hope drain away as boots thudded across the linoleum and the lights went out.

To her surprise, the audience cheered. Smiles beamed up at her from the front row, applause washed over her.

Timidly, and with Jensen’s encouragement, she stepped up to the microphone stand and smiled.

“Hey, guys.”

Her cheeks were burning, her eyes squinting in the stage lights. She raised a hand to shield her face from the glare and looked out into the room. Every seat was filled and fans stood along the back wall. It seemed everyone at the con was in that room, watching Jensen give his big announcement.

She tried to take the mic but her hand was shaking terribly. Jensen came to her aid and pulled it from the stand. He kissed her cheek.

“You’re gonna be great,” he whispered. “They already love you, just go with it.”

Already, people were queueing up on either side of the stage, ready to ask a question should the lines be opened again.

“How’s it going?” she asked, receiving a loud cheer in reply. “Yeah, me too.” She laughed and took a shy step back. Her heart was racing, her lips hurt from smiling.

Jensen watched her with bright, loving eyes. He placed his big hand on her lower back and gave a gentle push.

His touch calmed her instantly. She turned to look up at him and everything else faded away. She’d be fine, he was with her. Always.

“Well, show them,” he said into the mic.

Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Go on…”

With dramatic, mock reluctance, she extended her left hand and showed off her new ring. It sparkled in the lights and the fans went wild.

She checked the door three more times. She twisted the knob until her palms were raw. She kicked at the wood until her legs ached.

In the darkness, she felt her way down the stairs and collapsed onto the floor. Her head was pounding and a sharp, unending ring blasted loud in her ears.

She lay on her right side, shivering and sweating at the same time. Her face was clammy and her eyes felt as if they were on fire.

“You have a fever,” he said. “That’s not good.”

Y/N turned towards the voice and gasped.

Leaning against the staircase railing was a ghost of her imagination, a handsome vision in a denim jacket and ripped jeans. Red flannel peeked out beneath the jacket and his pockets were full. His jaw was shaded with light stubble; his hair was short and fluffed upwards. His forehead was creased and he crossed his ankles and arms, staring down at her.

She shook her head but her vision wouldn’t clear. He was blurry but obviously there.

“Dean?”

He chuckled. “Who else?”

She sighed painfully and closed her eyes. “You’re not real.”

The apparition pushed off from the post and shrugged. “I’m more real than anything else you got right now. Who are you gonna talk to? That rat over there?”

She cringed. “What!”

He laughed outright and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You’re gonna have to toughen up real quick, Sweetheart, if you’re gonna get out of this.”

“There’s no way out of this.”

Dean crouched down, set his forearms on his knees, getting close to her. “There’s always a way out. You may not like it, but there’s always a way.”

Something caught in the back of her throat and she coughed hard. Violent pain erupted across her middle and she screamed, folding in on herself.

Dean’s worried hands floated over her body; his face contorted with helplessness.

“Hey. Hey! You’re OK. Just breathe.”

She coughed again and her limbs spasmed, twisting inwards.

“Hey! Y/N/N, come on.”

She imagined she could feel the heaviness of his hand on her shoulder.

“Shh… It’s a broken rib… or six. You’re gonna be OK.”

Her eyes were wide, her skin paled. “Can’t… breathe.”

“Hey, hang on… Stay with me!”

Another cough let loose a spray of crimson from her lips and Y/N’s eyes rolled back.

Dean’s voice echoed in her head and everything else faded away.

He kissed her on stage. In front of everyone. In front of a thousand cameras flashing and videos rolling. He kissed her hard, dipped her over his arm.

Y/N was embarrassed and thrilled and in love. It was hard to contain or sort through the emotions running through her, and when they walked off stage together, she started to cry.

Jensen spun around and bent down to reach her eye level.

“Baby, no… what’s wrong?”

She shook her head and tried to look away, but two giant hands framed her face and held her there.

“What’s going on?” he asked, green eyes flooded with worry. “Did I do something?”

She smiled and sniffled. “No. No, Jen, you didn’t. I’m just…” She took a shaky breath. “I’m so fucking happy.”

She took a shaky breath and lifted her head from the frozen concrete. The chill had entered her bones, chilling the marrow and numbing her digits. Her joints ached; the breaks in her body stung. She wiped at the dried blood on her mouth and tried to sit up.

It hurt too much to move.

“I’m thirsty,” she croaked. Her throat was raw and her voice crackled.

“You gotta get outta here.”

She growled. “Ya think? How?” She pushed up on one arm and glared his way.

Dean was standing in the dark next to the stairs. Hands shoved in his pockets; bottom lip tugged harshly between his teeth.

“I don’t even know where ‘here’ is!”

He sighed. “I know.”

“Or who they are!”

He pursed his lips, took a breath. “I know-”

“Or why the fuck I’m locked in a basement!”

Dean rolled his head on his shoulders, looking for answers on the ceiling. “That’s it.” He snapped his fingers and looked down at her.

“What’s it?”

“Why are you here?”

She rolled onto her ass and slowly tucked her knees to her chest. Every movement hurt, but it was better than freezing to death laid out like a ragdoll.

“I already said, I don’t know.”

He dropped his chin, narrowed his gaze. “Think.”

She shook her head. “I have no fucking idea.”

“They haven’t touched you,” he noted.

She scoffed. “Um… I don’t know if you recall that I’ve been bludgeoned and shoved into a trunk and beaten and-”

Dean held up his hand, surrendering and asking for patience. “I mean, they haven’t… touched touched you.”

“You mean like-”

“Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand down his face.

“So they’re not gonna like… rape me or anything. That’s good.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” He scratched his head. “So why are you here? What do they want from you?”

Y/N shrugged and winced at a new found pain. Her neck was stiff, her spine tingled.

“Think!”

She startled. “I don’t know!”

“Think. What’s missing?”

“I don’t-” Her head hurt. Her vision unfocused.

“Come on, kid. Think.”

“My… my ring.” She reached for the diamond, but her finger was bare. “My ring is gone.”

Dean hummed. “Yeah. But what’s still here?”

She took stock of herself, struggling to remember what she’d worn that morning and what was left.

“My necklace,” she answered, touching her clavicle. “My jewelry. They didn’t take anything else.”

Dean came closer as he led her thought process along. “So, they…”

She swallowed hard. “This isn’t a robbery or anything. They don’t want to rape me. They… It’s got something to do with you.” She looked up into green eyes and a hard expression. “I mean, with- with Jensen.”

TO BE CONTINUED... Part Two

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#spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles x reader #angst #one shot becomes two #save me p1

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shaunamilfman · 8 days

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you must like me for me [2]

summary: You weren't sure what you did to piss off Shauna Shipman, but you've been on the receiving end of her death glares for just as long as you can remember. If looks could kill you'd certainly be six feet under, but hey–it's kind of hot, right? For better or worse, everything changes after a run-in at a party. Part 1 | Part 3

“Come on,” Nat protests, pointedly glancing at the hickey displayed proudly on your neck. “Spill. Who was it?”

You shake your head with a grin as you look over at her. “Not telling.”

Nat groans exaggeratedly. “Fine. Whoever it is is Shipman-level crazy because I swear haven't seen your neck in weeks–”

She trails off at the sheepish look on your face. “No fucking way. You've been hooking up with Shipman? Shauna Shipman let you get within three feet of her?” You bristle at the utter disbelief in her voice, honestly a little offended, before you decide the disbelief is more on Shauna's personality than your ability to pull her.

“Could you announce it any louder?” You say wryly.

Nat scoffs. “No one would believe it even if they heard it.”

“Yeah, but Shauna would.”

Nat's eyes widen slightly as she glances around to make sure no one hears you. You give her an amused look as she rolls her eyes. “I'm not, like, afraid of her or something. But the last thing I need is for her to sic Jackie on me.”

You nod slowly, and she elbows you in the side in retaliation for your disbelieving hum. You rub at your side with a wince; Nat really could pack a punch when she meant to and– like this time– even when she didn't. Her face softens slightly at the motion, but she doesn't otherwise acknowledge it.

Nat never likes to acknowledge when she feels guilty about something, choosing instead to just bottle it up and stew on it. You think it's dumb to ruminate on something that's already stopped hurting, but you know Nat wouldn't appreciate you acknowledging it.

She's a lot like Shauna in that way, you've realized. You're not quite sure which one of them would win in a brooding contest but you think it might be a close call. It's strange to think about Nat and Shauna being similar in any way, but as you've spent more time with Shauna you've really started to question why you didn't get along well in the first place.

It's not like you've spent a ton of your time together talking– far too occupied by the thought of burying your head between her thighs to exchange pleasantries– but you've really grown to like the snippets of her personality that shine through.

She's argumentative with a mean streak a mile wide, sure, but she offered you a pillow for your knees once so you figured it probably evened itself out. Right? Granted, you only needed the pillow because she kept you kneeling on her hardwood floor as she insisted for another round but you assured yourself it was the thought that counts.

Shauna was sweet in her own way, you reasoned. Sometimes you caught her giving you the sweetest little smile out of the corner of your eye when she thought you couldn't see it, quickly turning it into a frown the second you turned your head fully to face her. She bemoaned your presence in her bed the second you were finished fooling around, but you kept yourself from commenting on the way she immediately wrapped herself around you. Sometimes it pays to be the bigger person for once. Truly you couldn't leave if you wanted to: she's a hell of a lot stronger than she looks.

Shauna never seemed warmer than in the afterglow, almost eager to climb into your lap or hold you on hers. The distance that she was always so careful to put between herself and others made bridgeable for just an instant as she allowed a vulnerability that was as rare as it was captivating. It felt like a privilege to be granted access to her like this, a part of her that she kept under lock and key. In those moments it was just the two of you, like nothing else matters. Like nothing ever mattered but her.

It was the quiet intimacy between you in a few moments of stolen affection that kept you coming back, unable to stop yourself from seeking her out even as you reminded yourself time and time again that it was a bad idea. It was a bittersweet connection you shared, but you can’t find it in yourself to resist it.

In summary, you’re fucked.

You push the thought out of your head, shifting focus abruptly as you elbow Nat back even harder. Nat grunts in pain, almost wheezing as she grabs at her side. She glares at you with teary eyes, but there’s a slight quirk of her lips that betrays a small hint of amusement. She shoves you backward a few steps, but you quickly recover as you start to laugh. That is, until, a force comes slamming into your shoulder and sends you stumbling back.

As you catch your balance again the shock of the collision fades, quickly replaced by blinding anger. You almost swung on her purely on instinct until you caught sight of a flannel-clad arm just in the corner of your vision.

“Oops,” Shauna mutters, voice dripping with insincerity. Your immediate confusion cools the edges of your rage, leaving you on edge and a little unsure as you stare at her. You’ve seen Shauna start plenty of shit, sure, but she’d never even bothered to interact with you at school before. You weren’t even sure what you could have done to set her off this time.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” She continues, seeming annoyed at your continued silence. You glare over at her as you rub at your shoulder, but it doesn’t seem to affect her anyway. She stares impassively at you, tilting her head to the side with a sarcastic smile as if daring you to do something about it. Shauna’s nonchalant demeanor does little to alleviate your growing irritation as you stare at her, rolling your eyes before looking around the hallway.

There are a few curious eyes on the both of you, but they quickly look away the second they catch you staring back at them. Students shuffle past and around you, talking aimlessly and oblivious to the standoff between the two of you.

It’s as if Shauna’s testing your patience, a subtle plea for your attention masked under a detached smile. If she wanted to see you lose your composure you certainly weren’t going to give her the satisfaction.

No matter what she was trying to get out of this little stunt– and you’re sure there was a reason for it no matter how impulsive she can act– you're content in knowing you’ve gotten something from it too. She looks so pretty when she tries to stare you down, a growing irritation bubbling on her face as you take a moment to take it all in. Although you resent her attempt to intimidate you, there’s an undeniable allure in her audacity.

Shauna commands your attention even in the busy hallway, standing unperturbed as the crowd parts around her with her shoulders squared and chin lifted in a silent declaration of defiance. There’s an intensity to her eyes that borders on a challenge, a well of determination hidden behind her steely indifference. You meet her gaze head-on, almost smiling as a flash of surprise crosses her face.

You love it when she gets like this. There’s a deliberate wildness to her appearance, a calculated messiness that only entrances you more. She faces you with a practiced air of indifference that does little to hide the barely contained rage just under the surface if only you knew where to look. She constantly teeters just on the edge of control, on the verge of striking out at the slightest provocation. She’s an absolute force of nature, more than willing to take down anything that stands in her way.

Choking down your initial urge to confront her, you take a measured breath before giving her a wry smile. “Watch where you’re going next time,” You say evenly, emphasizing each word.

Shauna’s eyes narrow, her face faltering for just a moment. “Sure thing. My bad,” She replies casually, a hint of mockery in her voice as she tries to bait you again. Her frustration is almost palpable as you let the challenge go unprovoked once again. You shake your head in amusement, tearing your eyes away from her as you turn back to Nat.

Jackie, who’s been looking confusedly back and forth between you, grabs her by the arm and starts trying to drag her down the hallway. “Shauna wasn’t looking where she was going,” Jackie apologizes with a pinched smile.

She seems surprised when Shauna digs her feet in for a moment, tugging again as Shauna finally relents and lets herself be pulled away from you. Jackie’s fingers are wrapped tightly around her forearm as they walk off but Shauna doesn’t even seem to notice it as she finally drags her eyes away from you as they round the corner.

“What the fuck was that?” Nat mutters. You shrug, shoving your hands in your pockets as you feel for the edge of your lighter. You give her an easy smile as you find it, rubbing your thumb aimlessly across the surface as you push off the locker.

“Should probably get to class, yeah?”

Nat stares irritatedly at you for a moment before shrugging.

…

You tap your foot against the ground impatiently as you lean against the wall outside, starting to regret ever deciding to wait Shauna out. She was later than usual and you were starting to wonder if she was ever going to get out of the locker room. You knew from experience that you had a good twenty minutes in between when Shauna left the locker room and when Jackie did, but then again Shauna usually knew you were waiting for her.

You wondered idly if Shauna was making you wait on purpose, a little power play that you wouldn’t entirely put past her. Sometimes you thought she got some thrill out of knowing you were waiting around for her, but you couldn’t entirely blame this one on her. Maybe she’s gotten caught up in her own little world as she waited around for Jackie, unaware she had someone impatiently waiting for her outside. Still, you had a sneaking suspicion that Shauna wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to sit in her car alone to write angsty prose in her journal while Jackie was busy talking with their coach.

You imagine her now, sitting sideways across the seat with her journal propped up on her knees as her pen moved furiously across the page. It’s a sight you’ve become all too familiar with lately; Even the sound her pen makes as she presses down just hard enough to threaten to rip the page in her anger has become oddly soothing. Despite her hidden penchant for dramatics, you find that there’s a surprising depth to her, one that extends far below the surface of any ideas you’ve previously held about her. There’s just something about her that resonates with you on a visceral level, lingering in your thoughts long even when you’d rather push her aside.

You’re almost embarrassed at how attractive you’ve started to find her brooding. She just feels everything so deeply, and you find yourself captivated and frustrated by it in equal measure as you try to rationalize her behavior. You knew that there had to be some reason behind whatever little stunt she was pulling in the hallway, but for the life of you, you just couldn’t find a reason. You want there to be a reason.

You need there to be a reason, otherwise, she was just pushing you around for no reason. You never thought you’d see the day when you were excusing one of her moody rituals, but you’ve become smitten with her despite your better judgment. Shauna could be mean, as you well knew, but you’ve never known her to be cruel. You so badly want that to be true, even as you keep getting the sneaking suspicion that she’s just toying with–

Ah, footsteps. You grin.

You wait a minute for her to pass by you before you push off the wall, trailing a few steps behind her as she walks toward her car. She turns suddenly as she reaches it, obviously hearing someone walk up behind her. The anger in her eyes fades the second she catches sight of who it is, a moment of unease passing over her face as she sizes you up. “What are you doing here?” She asks, not prepared to find you here and seemingly off balance

“What was that, earlier?” You press, momentarily distracted by the faint sheen of moisture that still clings to her skin after her shower.

Shauna huffs, her eyes rolling as she makes a half-hearted attempt to open the door of her car. You step forward and slam your hand against the top of the door, cutting off her retreat and effectively trapping her between your body and the door. You’re almost annoyed by her lackluster attempt– did she seriously just try to hide in her car? She looks pissed as she glances between you and the door, clearly realizing she’s going to have to confront you one way or the other. You’d take either, honestly, as long as she addressed the tension between you. You were getting sick of letting her set the pace all the time.

Her narrowed eyes betray her irritation as she looks up at you, but there’s a flicker of something else in her expression that only makes you want to push her more. A long moment of silence passes between you, Shauna’s heavy breaths as she tries to reign in her anger the only sound you can hear. This silent confrontation is unfamiliar, a definite departure from your usual dynamic that seems to make Shauna equally uncomfortable. As the seconds tick by, Shauna's seemingly detached confidence begins to falter, revealing the cracks in her armor as she finally gives in.

“What was what?” Shauna asks finally, more uncomfortable with the silence stretching between you than any desire to actually have this conversation. You’ll work with what you get.

“That shit you pulled in the hallway. Seriously, Shipman? You shoulder-checked me.”

“Just a little bump in the road,” She says with a careless wave of her hand, her tone bordering on indifference.

You sputter angrily over your words, hating the way she managed to work you up over nothing. “Seriously? A ‘bump in the road’? That’s your idea of an apology?” You snap.

“Of course not,” She says, giving you a wry smile. Shauna seems to get a perverse sort of pleasure from getting under your skin. You just wish you didn’t make it so easy sometimes. “I wasn’t apologizing.”

“God, Shipman. You’re so fucking irritating I–”

“Shauna!” She snaps, interrupting you mid-sentence and leaving you momentarily flustered. Your eyes narrow in confusion as you try to gather your thoughts.

“What?” You ask dumbly.

“You’ve had your tongue in my mouth. I think you can bear to call me by my name, can’t you?” Her words hang unanswered in the air, and you’re left speechless and a little embarrassed by the implications of her words. You feel a twinge of unease at the declaration, unsure how to respond as you stare blankly at her.

“What? Nothing to say?” She prods, immediately getting self-conscious in your continued silence. An embarrassed Shauna was a dangerous Shauna, as you well know.

“You had so much to say to Nat earlier,” She spits, mockingly imitating a high-pitched laugh.

“Is that what this is, Ship– Shauna? You’re fucking jealous?”

“What? Fuck off.” She scoffs, noticeably not meeting your eyes. You almost laugh in her face. Shauna was many things, but a good liar was certainly not one of them.

“Well, as long as you’re not jealous then,” You say dismissively, on the verge of losing your temper.

“Of course not,” She agrees, nodding solemnly.

You groan, casting a glance away to hide your irritation. There’s just something about her that was constantly leaving you torn between attraction and exasperation. Whatever.

You knew how you could get both out at once. You tilt your head to the side, a questioning look on your face that Shauna quickly answers with a knowing look as she closes the distance between you. Communication may not be your strong suit, but there’s one thing you both seem to excel at.

You press Shauna further up against the car, tilting her head to the side to expose the length of her neck. You press your lips against her neck in a quick kiss, soothing the area before bringing your teeth into play. Shauna cries out at the sting, hands grasping at the back of your shirt as she tries to pull you as close as possible, lost in the feeling.

Her breath starts to come out faster, her chest rising and falling in time with her excitement as her fingers dig into your back. You shudder at the feeling of her nails scraping against your skin through your shirt as she tries to regain some semblance of control over the interaction, but it’s clear from her reaction that she’s rapidly losing that battle. Shauna’s voice cracks halfway through a breathy insult as you nip at the crook of her neck, one hand falling from your shirt as she pulls you closer instead by your belt loops. The movement of her hips is subtle at first, quickly becoming insistent as she parts her thighs. You try not to think about how public it is, or that someone could see it.

She gasps as your teeth mark a trail across her skin, leaving small little marks behind you know she’ll only resent later when she has to try to explain it to Jackie. Unfortunately for her you rather enjoyed being on the receiving end of that rage– there was just something about that fire in her eyes. You catch sight of her, her flushed skin and parted lips taking your breath away.

She comes back to herself for a moment, a heady mix of passion and possession on her face as she takes you in. “Mine,” She whispers, her voice low and rough as she reaches a hand up to tangle it in your hair. She states it like it was a simple fact, and you hate the way that you want to agree with her. It doesn’t seem like she cares much for your opinion either, tugging you down by the hair as she crashes your lips together.

So, yeah. You didn’t quite get the confrontation you wanted this time either. What you did get was having to book it as you heard Jackie making her way toward the car, leaving a flustered Shauna to fix her mused hair and pretend like she hadn’t just been riding your thigh as Jackie rounded the corner. All in all, you consider it a win.

…

You can't make out the sounds of the argument happening outside the door over the sound of the ringing in your ears, but you weren't in the right mind to care about it anyway. You absently note the thumping sounds of boots making their way down the hallway as you catch sight of your flushed face in the mirror, breath still heavy with exertion as you cling to the edges of the counter with trembling hands. In the more rational part of your mind, you know that the counter isn’t the only thing anchoring you to the moment, but you cling desperately to the semblance of control gained from its unyielding support.

If you were more cognizant you'd be upset about the state of your favorite jacket, sleeves spotted red with the evidence of your anger. You didn’t know whose blood was on your hands, yours or his, but the distinction felt pointless. At the end of the day one of you was bleeding and it was entirely your fault. You exhale shakily, trying to take deep breaths to tame your racing heart as it beats through your chest. You stare into the mirror at your disheveled appearance, face bruised from the few shots he'd managed to land in return before Nat dragged you away. Your reflection gazes back with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability. You're oddly resentful of its silent witness to your emotions, its red-rimmed eyes serving as lasting evidence of your weakness.

The floorboards of the hallway creak as someone takes a heavy step forward, leaving you whirling around at the sound of the door opening behind you. Your eyes narrow as you catch sight of Shauna standing in the doorway, a strange intensity in her eyes as she takes you in. The room feels heavy with the weight of the words left unspoken between you, a strange tension filling you even as you push it from your mind in favor of gripping the counter as you struggle to rein in your emotions. Your hands slide on the slick white countertop, already stained with your bloody fingerprints.

You feel a pang of regret at the sight, quickly replaced by another wave of rage as you remember what started it. Maybe you shouldn't have hit him that hard, but he definitely should have known better than to make Jackie cry. If it hadn't been you it would have been Shauna– which, when you think about it that way, you were sort of doing him a favor in a roundabout way by sparing him from her wrath. She would have done much worse, after all.

You freeze for a moment, a sudden consideration of how your actions must have looked from the outside. God, the last thing you needed was Jackie following you around like a lost puppy. You can almost picture it now, Jackie linking your arms together and talking your ear off while Shauna shook with rage on her other side. Maybe you'd get lucky and Jackie would be too drunk to remember, sparing you from her well-meaning but seemingly suffocating affection.

You were a little resentful that she got involved in the first place. You didn’t need anyone to stand up for you, and if you did it certainly wouldn’t be Jackie Taylor of all people. Still, when he started running his mouth about insults you’ve long since grown immune to, Jackie was the first person to jump to your defense. You weren’t sure quite what you’d done to gain her fervent loyalty, but you weren’t sure you wanted it either. You think you might need to find a way to lose it sooner than later before it gets you into more trouble: you always were a sucker for crying girls.

A hand rests heavily on your shoulder, dragging you forcefully back to reality. You instinctively shrug it off, holding her wrist tightly between your fingers as you turn to face her. The two of you lock gazes for a long moment before you finally look away, loosening your grip but still holding her wrist in your hand. You think for a moment about lacing your fingers but quickly decide against it as you drop her hand entirely. It serves to ease some of your tension, shoulders relaxing as you lean back against the counter to scrutinize her. Shauna’s watching you just as closely, eyes lingering on the developing bruises on your face before settling on your hands.

You sigh as you turn back around, turning the tap on as you try to clean your hands off. “Where's Nat?”

“Managed to run her off,” Shauna says, stepping up to the side of the sink to watch.

“Nat's not one to be pushed around. Must've tricked her into thinking you aren't a heinous bitch.”

She shrugs, the quirk of her lips betraying her amusement. “It’s a gift.”

You scoff, letting it go unanswered as you gently dry your hand off. Shauna looks disappointed as you pull your now clean hand out, an unsubtle motion you’re too nervous to question.

“Why’d you do that?” She asks finally, her voice tinged with an unusual hint of urgency.

“Do what?”

She doesn’t relent, gaze piercing as she presses on for an explanation. “Start a fight over Jackie.”

“Who says I did it for her? Did you hear what he called me?” You deflect, starting to walk out of the bathroom before Shauna grabs tightly to your wrist and turns you around. You meet her eyes with practiced disinterest, hoping to avoid this line of questioning. You weren’t sure she’d like your answer, far too tangled in emotions she prefers not to address. You consider just saying it outright, putting the truth out there and making her deal with it however she wants. But the moment soon passes, too afraid of it blowing up in your face.

There are a lot of questions you want to ask her that you know she’ll only sidestep, distracting you with glimpses of skin till you relent– it’s almost nice to be the one withholding answers for once.

“You’re so frustrating, you know that? You give me such a headache.”

“Is that why you’re always in such a shitty mood?” You quip, unable to resist the urge so clearly presented to you. You smirk as you watch her reaction. Her jaw clenches, a flash of irritation crossing her face before she looks away. She’s tense for a moment before nodding stiffly. There’s a strange vulnerability in her begrudging acknowledgment, seeming almost impressed.

Shauna reaches for your face with deliberate slowness, like she hadn’t quite made her mind up on touching you before she started reaching. Despite your initial urge to back away you decide to let her, tilting your head along with the motion of her hand as she directs your chin from side to side to get a good look at you. The weight of her eyes is almost suffocating as she closely examines the contours of your face. She carefully traces the bruises with her fingertips, a surprising tenderness that you’ve only come to expect after hookups.

It feels strangely out of place now, leaving you stiff and unsure as you allow the gentle caress. You can’t help but wonder what she’s looking for if she’s searching for signs of weakness or simply concerned. It’s a complex thought and one that you don’t usually allow yourself. What if?

“You looked hot,” She says absently, snatching her hands away from your face as if the admission burned her.

She looks as surprised as you feel, her mouth opening and closing before settling on a simple, albeit cutting remark. “Hope your face gets better. It’s the only thing you’ve got going for you.”

The comment stings just like she knew it would, but the flicker of regret on her face is far more interesting. You find yourself holding your breath, daring to hope that she might finally say something real.

Shauna stops in the doorway, looking like she wants to say something else before she shakes her head and turns on her heels. You stare in her direction as she disappears from view, the sound of her footsteps carrying to the stairs until all you’re left with is silence.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x reader #minors dni

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

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rip-off

sirius black x slytherin!potter!reader

w/c: 2.9k

summary: sirius is so enamored with you, his best friend's sister, that he's too distracted to play properly. when a poor play by sirius renders you severely injured, he and james must handle the aftermath.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Tensions were high between you and James the day of the first Gryffindor-Slytherin match of the year. Walking into the Great Hall together, you jumped up to tousle James’ untamable hair, earning a mocking laugh from him as you came up short, just managing to grasp the tangles at the back of his neck. You groaned.

“This is bullshit! My birth was a rip-off! You got every damn tall gene and I came second and you saved me none, you… you-” You were cut off by a pair of strong arms across your waist, lifting you in the air as you shrieked. Sirius grinned mischievously at you as you realized what he was doing. Practically tackling James, you jumped onto his back and clung your arm around his neck as you were finally able to dig your fist into James’ head as he let out a strangled yelp.

“Get off me, you pest! You should’ve never been born in the first place,” James shook you off as the three of you burst into laughter, Sirius shoving his friend forward as the two approached the Gryffindor table and you departed to the Slytherins.

“Your sister is… really something.” Sirius glanced over his shoulder at you, who was slapping your knee with mirth as you caught your breath at something Regulus had said. His stomach panged with jealousy— no, pre-game nerves—as he watched his younger brother swing an arm around your shoulders.

“She means well. Being friends with Regulus, I mean. I know you guys aren’t on the best terms, but I think they’re good for each other. Keeps the two of ‘em from hanging out with that crowd.” He juts his chin towards Severus, Avery, Bellatrix, and Mulciber.

“You’re right, it’s just… don’t you wish she was a Gryffindor sometimes? She’s fun and nice, and she gets along with the lot of us so well, and…” and pretty too, he thought guiltily.

“Don’t tell me you’re going soft on her, Padfoot. You know her, she’s an absolute menace.” James elbowed his friend good-naturedly. “Now eat. She’s also a mean seeker, and I am not about to get beat by my younger sister in the first quidditch match of the year.”

Remus caught Sirius’ eye, eyebrow raised subtly. Curse Moony and his stupid perception.

Sirius was caught up in his thoughts the rest of the morning, even as he was putting on his quidditch gear. Godric, what is wrong with you? Have you truly gone mental? She’s your best mate’s younger sister. Younger, too! Too young for you, and too good for you, and she’s James’ sister! James Potter, your friend who would kill you if he found out about your feelings. Which don’t exist, of course. No, you don’t have any feelings for her. It’s brotherly affection. It’s-

“PADFOOT!” James’ face was right in front of his. “You’ve been off your game all day, mate. We’re starting in 5, you gotta get your shit together. And I know you have a tendency to go easy on my sister—which I normally would appreciate, by the way—but this is war! On the pitch, she’s not my baby sister, she’s the enemy. Act like it!” James clapped as he led the team into the stadium, cheers exploding from each of the houses, minus Slytherin. Opposite the Gryffindors approached the Slytherins, led by their keeper and Captain, Emma Vanity, whom you had gushed about on multiple occasions. You wiggled your eyebrows at your brother, meeting Sirus’ eye with a poorly suppressed smile. Sirius pursed his lips to hide his own.

The older Potter and Vanity shook hands, his face immediately hardening as the young Madame Hooch called, “mount your brooms, please. Now, on your marks…” Hooch’s silver whistle cut through the stadium as the teams shot upwards. Davey Gudgeon’s dramatic throat-clearing as he amplified his voice filled the air.

“AND THEY’RE OFF! LOOKS LIKE MALFOY IS QUICK TO GRAB THE QUAFFLE WITH POTTER ON HIS TAIL; OHH, BLACK IS QUICK WITH THE BLUDGER AND POTTER HAS POSESSION OF THE QUAFFLE!” From your peripheral, you saw Mulciber lean forward on his broom to catch up to your brother, with Malfoy closing in on the other side.

“AND POTTER DODGES A BODY BLOW WITH A SLICK DIVE, LIVING UP TO HIS REPUTATION AND THAT BLOODY PRIZE I HAVE TO SCRUB DURING DETEN-”

“STAY FOCUSED, DUGEON.”

“Right, my bad Professor… THERE GOES THE LITTLE POTTER AFTER HER BROTHER, YOU KNOW THE TWO OF THEM ARE QUITE ATTRACTIVE, I’VE ALWAYS WONDERED IF THEY HAVE VEELA BLOOD-” With a huff, Gudgeon’s commentary was cut short with an impatient elbow from McGongall.

Your smile only grew at the Slytherins cheered your name; you relished the stinging wind against your cheeks. You swore you caught a glimmer of gold underneath James as he escaped Mulciber and Malfoy, but it was nowhere to be seen now. Returning to a circling position above the rest of the players, you made eye contact with the Gryffindor seeker, Patricia Rakepick, a seventh year who couldn’t help her soft spot towards you, despite the complaints of the older Potter. You grinned at each other, until Rakepick broke eye contact and whizzed right past you.

“RAKEPICK, LOOKING LOVELY AS EVER, HAS SPOTTED SOMETHING! POTTER IS JUST BEHIND- OW, LOOKS LIKE A NASTY HIT FROM MR. SIRIUS BLACK HAS INCAPACITATED WILKES. NEVER FEAR, ROSIER IN POSESSION OF THE QUAFFLE… MACDONALD’S BLUDGER MISSES… AND HE SCORES! 10-0!” The Slytherin stand roared, a sea of green and silver erupting from their seats.

While Wilkes pumped his fist and blew exaggerated kisses to the Slytherins, you took an opportunity to find Rakepick. There she was, with the snitch just a few meters away!

“IMPRESSIVE SLOTH GRIP ROLL FROM RAKEPICK TO DODGE MEADOWES’ BLUDGER… LOOKS LIKE THE SNITCH HAS GOTTEN AWAY.” Sirius took a second to glance up at you, as if to assure you hadn’t been caught up in the bludgeoning. Of course, you were fine. You were a perfectly capable quidditch player; why wouldn’t you be fine?

“POTTER STEALS THE QUAFFLE FROM WILKES, WHO’S BACK IN THE GAME… NICE TWIRL FROM POTTER AS HE MISSES LESTRANGE’S BLUDGER… MALFOY COMES IN AND SLYTHERIN IS IN POSSESSION OF THE QUAFFLE AGAIN!”

“Sirius Black, what in Godric’s fucking hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be bludgening Malfoy and his lot! Get your head in the game!” Sirius woke from his trance as fuming James flies past him, chasing after Lucius.

“MCKINNON INCOMING… SHE’S GOT THE QUAFFLE AND SHOOTS… AW, A GOOD SAVE FROM VANITY AND MALFOY’S GOT THE QUAFFLE AGAIN!”

The glint appeared right in front of your eyes. As Malfoy sped towards the Gryffindor goalposts, the snitch followed. Your blood raced with adrenaline as you wove between your older brother and the other chasers, hot on Lucius’ tail. Lucius was fast, but the snitch was faster.

“LOOKS LIKE THE YOUNGER POTTER HAS SPOTTED SOMETHING; COULD IT BE THE SNITCH? LOOK AT THAT- GOING HANDS FREE AS SHE FLIES OVER MALFOY’S HEAD… RAKEPICK COMING IN FROM THE LEFT…”

Amidst the chaos, the snitch had begun a rapid descent. You and Patricia Rakepick dove after it, but your smaller frame pushed completely against the handle of your broomstick gave you just that extra push of speed. Your fingers were mere centimeters from the snitch as Sirius raised his bat, knowing James would murder him if he let Gryffindor lose with 0 points just because of his reluctance to attack James’ little sister—perhaps even worse than what he’d do if he found out Sirius liked… no, Sirius didn’t… he was just…

In his internal fight, he hit the bludger with a resounding crack as it began spinning and gaining momentum as it whizzed towards you. It was too late for you to react before you were violently knocked off your broomstick, one arm reaching desperately for the handle. There was screaming from the stands as you fell through the air clutching your hands to your chest, but you couldn’t hear anything with your heart thundering in your ears. The players froze as James let go of the quaffle to race after his sister, your eyes closed as you cursed Hogwarts for not letting students apparate and cursed yourself for not being able to apparate anyways. Sirius, momentarily frozen, heard Remus and Peter’s voices shouting for him to do something, anything. His stomach twisted as he followed James down, hoping that at least one of them would be able to reach you in time.

He was wrong. You hit the ground with a dull thud and a whimper, followed by a crunch that made both James and Sirius wince. How many meters was that? Sirius didn’t want to know. Madame Pomfrey was quick to rush to your side while Madame Hooch motioned the players to come down for a time out.

“Give me space! Out of the way, boys, I need to see her.” Pomfrey fought her way past the panicking Sirius and James, who turned as they heard Remus and Peter’s footsteps approaching with Lily in tow; Regulus coming from the Slytherin stands. Sirius glanced at his younger brother, who pressed his lips together in a forced smile. Sirius was about to open his mouth and say something when Vanity stormed over, face flushed, Marlene and Dorcas following behind.

“Sirius. Fucking. Black.” She emphasized each word with a shove to his chest, standing a couple of inches above Sirius. “What was that? What were you thinking? You nearly killed her! Wait, did you kill her? Is she dead? Holy shit, you’re fucked up, you know that? What the fuck is wrong with you?” She was crouched next to you only moments later, gently brushing your hair out of your face with calloused fingers. Pomfrey swore under her breath, tapping her wand against your chest rhythmically, her fingers pressed against your neck checking for a pulse.

“Good news everyone! She’s not dead.” Pomfrey announced to the small group which had gathered around. “But the bad news is she’s severely fractured multiple ribs, appears to have major head trauma, which would make sense because she fell off her broom for the sake of this stupid, dangerous, purposeless game,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose, “a broken arm, and a bruised tailbone.” Pomfrey stood up and gestured to allow the students to check in on you as she and McGonagall spoke in harsh whispers.

“Shit. Shit, shit shit. Fuck.” James was the first to jostle through, collapsing to his knees in front of you. McGonagall didn’t even look his way as he spewed profanities. Sirius couldn’t move. It was his fault. He got distracted. James told him to get his shit together, not kill his little sister! And, like the screw-up he was, he did exactly the latter.

Your eyelids fluttered as you saw James’ terrified face above yours. With a weak groan, you opened your hand, the snitch in your scraped palm. “We win,” you chuckled hoarsely, wincing as pain tore through your chest.

“You’re such an idiot. You’re incorrigible, you know that? Can’t ever stay out of trouble,” tears slipped down James’ face, leaving tear marks as they washed away the grime on his cheeks.

“Is she okay?” Lily whispered in James’ ear, who was too caught up in his worries to even think about how close the love of his life was to his face. James could only sniffle. Dorcas rubbed Marlene’s arm while Peter patted Sirius on the back and Remus rubbed his shoulder, sensing his distress. Sirius could only watch as Regulus took your hand, fingers passing over the small scuff next to your eye with Sirius’ eyes fixed on his brother’s movements with a clenched jaw.

“Listen, you’re gonna be okay. I’ll take you up to the infirmary and stay with you until you feel better,” Regulus smiles reassuringly. “C’mon, up you go.” Pomfrey levitated you onto a stretcher and headed for the castle, Regulus by your side. McGonagall shooed Remus and Peter away, insisting they weren’t needed here and instructed the two captains to deal with their respective teams. But Sirius couldn’t move; it was as if he was tethered to the ground in chains of guilt and jealousy watching your figure disappear.

“You good, mate?” James threw his arm around Sirius’ shoulders as Peter and Remus walked away with concerned glances thrown over their shoulders.

“Prongs, I nearly killed your sister! Why the fuck are you asking me if I’m okay?” Sirius hissed as he pushed James away, storming towards the locker rooms.

“Hey, don’t ignore me!” Sirius ignored him. “I said, don’t ignore me!” James slammed his hand against a locker as he blocked Sirius’ path, hoping to force a word out of his friend, but Sirius only looked at the ground.

“It’s not your fault, Pads. She’s the toughest quidditch player I know. More so than you and I, even,” he forced out a laugh. When Sirius continued to refuse to make eye contact, James grabbed him the shoulders and shook him roughly.

“Hey, I hate to resort to this, but this isn’t bloody about you and your guilt. First of all, it’s not your fault. You did exactly what you were supposed to, and an accident happened, and she’s gonna get Pomfrey treatment, which means she’ll be on bed rest until she’s completely good. That woman’s ego could not handle having a patient leave without full recovery, you know that. She’s in good hands.” Sirius’ red-rimmed eyes flickered between James, looking for any trace of blame. There was none.

“Second, moping around and drowning in your emo feelings will do nobody any good, except maybe Slughorn, who’ll get a real kick out of your silence in Potions. Go shower or something, you smell like Snivellus; meet me in the infirmary when you’re done, okay?”

Sirius watched James disappear into the distance, just as he watched the water disappear into the drain, and just as he felt any chance of being your friend disappear into thin air. All he ever wanted to do was keep you safe, and make you smile that radiant smile of yours, and if he was lucky, bring out that infectious laugh that turned him stupid every time he heard it. Now, he was lugging equipment up to the infirmary with damp hair and puffy eyes, not ready whatsoever to face you.

“Padfoot, you’re here! She’s still asleep.” James motioned for the sullen boy to join him and Regulus at your bed. Regulus was once again, by your face, threading his fingers through a strand of your windblown hair. There it was, that feeling in his gut. It was probably hunger; he hadn’t eaten a proper breakfast and then he’d played quidditch.

Sirius sat across from Regulus, who looked up from beneath hooded eyes with a silent glare which Sirius read to mean, “don’t you dare come near her. You don’t deserve her. She’s mine.”

“Alright Mr. Potter, you smell awful, and Mr. Black, you’ve been here for too long. The both of you—out!” Pomfrey ushered the two boys out, much to their protests, and turned to Sirius with something that looked like pity in her eyes. “As for you… you get eight minutes.”

Sirius watched as you slept, brows furrowed. He reached to brush away the dirt on your forehead, but his hand froze just as his fingers came close enough to feel the warmth of your skin. He stiffened, wondering if he even had the right to be sitting next to you when he was the reason you were here in the first place.

“Please… please, you have to be okay. You have to. I don’t know what I’d do…” Sirius murmured, finally finding the courage to swipe his fingers across your skin. “You know, James says he doesn’t blame me for this. Is it selfish to wish I wasn’t here right now? You- even when you sleep, you’re so-” he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud; it felt dirty, like a betrayal to his brother. You’re so beautiful. You’re so reassuring. You’re so strong.

“I haven’t even gotten the chance to tell you how I feel. I don’t know how I feel, actually.” Sirius laughed mirthlessly. “But I feel like I should. I should know how I feel, I mean. I should know how I feel about you because you- you’re always so confident and I can’t be that for you; I can’t even get my shit together.” He sighed, pulling his hand away from where he had been rubbing gentle circles against your temple, wondering if you’d hate him. The worst part was, that he knew you wouldn’t.

Sirius sat by your bed for a while, head between his hands as he replayed the fall— the way your eyes closed as if you had resigned yourself to the inevitable impact, the way he foolishly thought he could save you, and the way he didn’t. He jumped at Madame Pomfrey’s chill hand, freshly sanitized. You don’t belong here, all sterile and bland. You’re nothing like that. You’re the light. You’re my brilliant, Gryffindor red and I’m not even brave enough to tell you how I feel. Or to fucking admit how I feel to myself.

Sirius could hear Pomfrey’s foot tapping in concern as he left the infirmary, picking up his quidditch equipment from the floor and wishing he had never stepped foot in the stadium at all.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#sirius black imagine #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader angst #sirius black angst #sirius black x potter!reader #best friend's sister #maurauders era #maurauders angst

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stranger-fanfiction-n-things · 2 months

Text

DATE NIGHT

written December 14, 2023

a/n: I've read the first ACOTAR book in the series and a bit of the second book in the series. I immediately gravitated towards Azriel and of course wrote a blurb? one shot? About him and an oc. Her name is Ori, short for Aurora and she is the bastard child of Mr. Archeron. I picture her resembling Carmen Solomons the South African model. This thing in my head was inspired by the tiktoker ShannBailee. There's a video of her husband washing her hair and it was so sweet and beautiful to watch that I had to write something involving Azriel. I'm rambling. Enjoy.

Word Count: 3043

When Ori and Azriel decide to stay inside for date night, the Shadowsinger proposes a question that catches his mate off guard.

“Can I wash your hair?”

I stop detangling my hair turning to look at Azriel. He gazes down at me, honey brown eyes burning bright under faelight. I swallow, blinking slowly and open my mouth to answer, but the words die on my tongue. Azriel was well aware of my hair washing routine and often left me alone, not wanting to intrude on the vigorous and lengthy regimen I curated. Sometimes he would stay with me if we were deep in conversation, watching me detangle and coat my hair with various conditioners and hair masks. But wash my hair? The question caught me off guard.

His mouth twitches, a faint smile appearing on his face. I realize I'm gawking at him and close my mouth, shaking my head. A flush creeps up my face and I turn back to the mirror playing with my ends. A trickle of cool air whispered against my skin. Black shadows grazes my shoulders in attempts to get my attention. I glance at Azriel through the mirror where he lounged on the bed, leaning back on his hands, legs spread. He blinks at me, tilting his head to the side waiting patiently for my answer.

“You want to?” I breathe.

Azriel gave a nod, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands dangling in between his legs.

“Are you sure?”

Azriel chuckles quietly. “Yes. I’m sure.”

I stare at him for a long moment before nodding my head. “Okay.” I note the way his eyes gleam with mirth, but don't comment. “I’m almost done detangling my hair. I’ll set up the bath when I’m done.”

Azriel rose from the bed, walking to the vanity. He places his cold hands on my shoulders and bent down kissing the exposed skin. “You sit and finish with your hair. I’ll set up.”

“Wait,” I say, holding his hand before he left. “You don’t know what products I use. I can show you—”

“I’ve seen you wash your hair several times.”

“But—”

Azriel brings my hand to his lips, kissing my skin. “I can figure it out, Ori.”

I watch him walk to the bath and after a few moments the sound of running water fills the room. I turn to the mirror returning to the section I was at and scoop a considerable amount of product into my hands, rubbing them together. I start from my scalp and run my hands down to my ends then comb my fingers through my curls making sure I remove all the knots. I crane my neck using my enhanced hearing to listen to what Azriel was doing in the bath, but his damn shadows. I can’t hear anything.

“I can feel you staring.” Amusement laces his tone. I can feel it through our bond. I fix my posture responding to the bond feeling bashful. Azriel chuckles quietly and I smile fondly focusing on detangling my hair.

The aroma of apples and water lily filled the air when I ease the door open. I peer around the door and find Azriel sitting on a stool hunched over with his hand in the water testing out the temperature. Bottles and jars of my hair products line the stone ledge of the bath along with a wide-tooth comb. I linger by the doorframe in awe of the set up. From my favourite candle lit on the other side of the bath, the light blue ceramic pitcher, to the goblet of red wine—when did he get wine, I thought in disbelief.

“I told you I’d figure it out.” Azriel spoke.

“How did you—” I struggle to find the words. Azriel smiles, big enough for his dimples to make an appearance, one very few got to see.

He rose to his feet strolling toward me. I take a step back to look up at him, his large stature overwhelming my pixie-like height. Azriel takes my hand in his leading me toward the bath. He stops right in front of the pool of water and I admire the pungent fumes of apples and water lily.

“Wow,” I gasp, gazing up at Azriel. “This is just—wow.”

“The water is at the temperature you like.”

I gaze up at Azriel lost for words at his attention to detail and begin to unwrap my silk robe. Azriel helps me out of the garment and assists me into the tub. I instantly sigh the moment my body descends into the water. It was the perfect temperature. Azriel sits on the stool beside the bath, thick, long legs spread open to accommodate his large size.

I turn my body to the side, placing my forearms on the ledge of the bath gazing warmly at him.

My stomach feels like it's full of butterflies fluttering around. I've always known Azriel was observant but this was…everything. Azriel picks up the light blue ceramic pitcher dipping it in the water, lifting it out when it was full. I wait for him to pour the water but he pauses for a moment leaning forward, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. My heart hums at the loving gesture. To the outside world, Azriel was distant and cold, observing the world from the outside looking in. But when it was only the two of us, he was gentle and loving; affectionate and doting.

I face forward, sitting upright in the warm bath with my arms wrapped around my shins, gazing at the rippling water. Warm water trickles down my head splashing back in the bath. I feel my long cinnamon red curls flatten along my back as Azriel fills the pitcher again, pouring water on my head in efforts to rinse out all the product in my hair. He repeats the motion again and again, running his scarred fingers through my hair, kneading my scalp to get the leftover product. I watch him in silence as he worked, my mind buzzing like a bee.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

I watch Azriel pick up a bottle of cleansing shampoo, pouring the smooth paste into the palm of his hand. He rubs his hands together until bubbles form. I turn around to face him, holding the ledge and he combs his fingers through my hair kneading my scalp.

“Nothing. It’s just…” I sigh as he began to scratch all around my head. My eyes nearly roll back to my skull at the pleasurable feeling. I am quiet for a couple of minutes revelling in pampering. Azriel stops to add more shampoo. “Why do you want to wash my hair? We could’ve done anything else for date night.”

Azriel lathers the soap onto the back of my head. A slight frown puckers between his brows in concentration. I bite back a smile, admiring his features. The elegant slope of his straight nose and refined tip, his high cheekbones and chiseled jaw. The way he bites his lower lip when he is lost in thought or a task. Light freckles dusted over his nose, giving him a boyish, youthful look, I always adored.

“I don’t know…” he mumbles, lifting a shoulder. “I just wanted to do it.”

Azriel was a man of few words and it was an issue in our relationship we constantly worked on. I found it difficult to open up to people, even my sister Feyre sometimes when things became too much. But with Azriel it was much more than not talking about things. He kept it all bottled inside and I want him to feel safe enough to let whatever was going on in his head, out. It took us both a while to get comfortable enough to communicate our feelings. It didn’t mean we didn’t struggle with it daily.

I stare up at him with round eyes. Azriel fills the pitcher with water pouring it over my head to rinse out the shampoo. He blinks at my silence peering down at me and I lean forward resting my chin on my arms, waiting for the rest of his answer. He gazes at me, golden brown eyes trailing over my face and hair. I lift my head feeling uncertain about what he was looking at and thinking about. Reassurance pulled on my heart, rippling through the bond.

“How do you use this all the time?” he asks, referring to the pitcher.

“I usually dunk my head in the water to rinse my hair. Using the pitcher all the time would take way too long.”

Azriel chuckles quietly setting the pitcher back on the ledge. I giggle turning to the front and ease down to my elbows, tilting my head back submerging my long hair in the water. Balancing on my right elbow, I used my left hand to knead the remaining shampoo in my scalp out. A flush crept up my chest and the back of my neck feeling Azriel’s intense stare on my body. The water, though sudsy, barely covered my nakedness. I arch my back more and my chest hovers out of the water, the cool chill prickling my nipples to hard peaks.

I swish my head from side to side before sitting up, feeling the warm water trickle down my back. Azriel’s eyes flickers up to my face at the last second. His eyes darkening and I can feel his desire reverberating through the bond.

“What?” I ask softly, feigning innocence.

Azriel licks his lower lip. “Turn around.”

From the corner of my eye, I notice the gold goblet of wine. “Wait,” I said reaching for the glass. “I can’t forget about this.”

I sit on my backside holding the stem of the glass between my fingers. I take a sip of the cool red wine humming in content at the acidic and sweet tangy taste bursting in my mouth. Azriel scoops up my long hair, wringing out the excess water before letting it hang over the edge of the bath. He opened up a jar of my conditioner scooping out what I hoped wasn’t a considerable amount based on the size of his hands and runs his fingers through my hair.

I sink deeper into the bath letting the water reach just above my chest as he repeats the motion, evenly distributing the product so that no strand is left untouched. Azriel rearranges himself on the stool grabbing the wide tooth comb on the ledge and sections my hair into four. I feel him hold the first section in his hands and the scraping of the comb against my ends. He combs my hair from the ends to my scalp, untangling any knots I may have missed when detangling my hair prior.

We fall into our usual comfortable silence. Azriel taking his time to comb through each section of my hair and I sipping leisurely on the glass of wine. I never gave much thought on how intimate the act of washing someone’s hair was. The gentle attention and appreciation for your mate. The trust and vulnerability.

My stubbornness gets the best of me. I'm still not satisfied with Azriel’s answer.

My mate kisses my temple breathing deeply and I lean into his touch before turning back around to face him. Azriel takes the goblet of wine out of my hand setting it down on the ledge and inclines forward nuzzling his nose against mine. I gaze up at him waiting for his next move. Azriel closes the distance between us, pressing his full soft lips against my own. My eyes flutter close, smiling into the kiss knowing he couldn’t go five minutes without touching me in some way. He pulls away not before kissing me again, this one quicker than the last. His hand lay on my knees rubbing small circles on my skin while the other grabbed the pitcher again, filling it up to pour water on my head.

I play with his fingers, softly trailing my fingers against the intricate designs of his marred skin. It took some time to be able to touch his hands without feeling sadness through ripple through our bond. It was still an adjustment but slowly and surely, he was learning to like the scars.

“Az,” I spoke.

“Mm?”

“Why did you really want to wash my hair?”

Azriel pours the water on my head again and shrugs. I almost zap him with my powers. Sensing my impatience, a faint smile ghosts his lips. I open my mouth to protest but he speaks.

“I watch you do your hair all the time,” he begins filling the pitcher with water. “And I love how much time and effort you put into your routine.” I kiss his palm coaxing him to continue. “I’ll admit though, sometimes when you talk about your hair products and a new regimen you came up with, I’m looking at you, nodding my head as if I understand what you’re talking about but honestly, I don’t. I’m not listening.” He laughs when I squeeze his hand at the confession. Azriel pause and looks at me. “It’s not because I don’t want to,” he explained. “It’s because I can’t stop admiring you. Your hair is your expression, creativity, your freedom and I want to completely immerse myself in that part of you.”

Azriel returned to his task as if he said something so casual it didn’t require much thought. I shake my head.

“Gods, you’re so frustrating.”

Azriel stopps mid-pour. My response catching him off guard.

“Why?” He frowned.

I scoff. “Because how could you be any more perfect.”

Azriel rolls his eyes and continues to pour, shaking his head. “I’m not perfect,” he said flatly.

I hold his other wrist, halting his movements and bring his arm down. I gaze in his beautiful hazel eyes. “You are to me,” I say strongly. “You’re perfect and thoughtful and loving and—” Azriel cuts me off with his lips on mine.

I giggle leaning away from him, smiling when he purrs, chasing my lips. I indulge him closing the distance. The kiss deepens, Azriel licking into my mouth. My heart stutters at the fierceness of the kiss. Passion and devotion thrums through our bond as Azriel brings his hand up the back of my head, curling his fingers through my wet hair. I lean forward fisting his black shirt in my wet hands, desperate to feel his body against mine. A low groan escapes his lips sensing my desire and Azriel nips my bottom lip pulling away.

“You might take back those words when I’m done with your hair.” He breathed against my lips, amusement in his tone.

I grin. “So far you’re doing well for someone who doesn’t listen when I’m talking about my hair care routine.” Azriel growls playfully and the sound sent vibrations between my legs to my core. He leans back, the tips of our nose touching.

“That’s all you took from what I told you?” He spoke lowly, carefully.

“Yup.” I respond cheerfully, pulling away.

Azriel smiles, kissing my cheek before asking me to dip my head in the water again.

“I think we should think about your hair care regimen.” I muse, rinsing my hair out. It feels so silky and smooth against my fingers. Azriel hums a response, pulling strands of hair out the comb. “Yes, so you can stop using my shampoo.” I arch my brow knowingly at him. His hair has been smelling like pears and roses lately.

He grins, white teeth shiny and straight; dimples indenting his cheeks. It takes my breath away.

“What do you suggest?”

I sit up treading my hands through the soapy water. The tips of my fingers tingles with power surging through them. The soap in the water faded away becoming fresh and clean. I manipulate the temperature of the water making it a little hotter. Steam soon wafts in the air. Leaning back on my elbows again, I purse my lips in thought.

“A hair mask to lock in moisture. Flying dries out your hair,” I say. “Oh, and there’s this conditioner for wavy hair I saw at the market the other day.” Azriel rinses his hands in the water and combs his wet hands through his dark hair. I sit up observing him. “Other than that, I just think you need a haircut.”

“I thought you liked my hair.”

I do like it. I love it actually. He had grown it out, thick waves falling just above his shoulders. I was accustomed to his low taper fade, thick waves falling above his hazel eyes. Long hair somehow made him look older, despite his boyish looks. I love playing with his hair when he snuggles up against my chest or helping him put half his hair in a bun before training. But I miss his short hair.

“I do!” I promise, sitting up on my bottom. “But any longer and you’ll look like Cassian.”

Azriel tips his head back and laughs. I join rising to my knees, reaching up to card my fingers through his hair moving the strands of hair that fell over his face.

“I’m done,” he said, golden eyes trailing down my exposed body, drinking me up. I shiver at his intense stare. He drags his gaze up to my face looking into my eyes and I wrap my arms around his neck pulling him close. Azriel’s arms envelopes around my small figure, not caring I am wet.

“Thank you,” I murmur in his ear.

Azriel pulls away reaching a scarred hand up to caress my cheek. I lean into his touch and his cool finger brush my lips. I take the tip of his thumb into my mouth, biting softly. Azriel’s eyes darkens and desire thrums through the bond. He lowers his lips to mine in another deep kiss. His lips were warm and soft, parting slightly allowing my tongue to slip inside. I press into him feeling his heartbeat against my chest. Azriel sucks on my tongue eliciting a whimper from my lips. He pulls away, breathing deeply against my lips.

“You’re welcome, baby.”

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #acotar fanfiction #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger #poc reader #acotar imagine #acotar fanfic #oriarcheron

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second-axis-point · 1 year

Note

Could you do a Joel Miller x male reader where he’s a little overly protective of the reader. At first the reader finds it cute like it’s nice his boyfriend is caring, but then it feels like Joel doesn’t think the reader is strong/capable. Reader comments on it and make a bet they could beat Joel in a fight and ends up pinning Joel to the ground. Reader proves his point and Joel figures out he kinda likes being thrown about by his boyfriend.

P.S: absolutely love your writing!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Protective!Joel, Reader can fight, Flirting, Joel likes being tossed around 😏

Sorry for the little hiatus! With the school year ending, my posts will be a little sporadic for the next few weeks. Absolutely love this concept and hope you enjoy it. Thanks for the request! 💙

Protective

As soon as you and Joel started dating you could tell that Joel was a little protective. He would stand in front of you if he sensed any danger whatsoever. He would glare at people who would dare to look at you. If you looked slightly upset with what someone would say to you, he would be right by your side in a second. At first you thought it was kind of endearing, cute even. But then it started to look like Joel thought you couldn’t do anything for yourself. You started to get frustrated when Joel started to speak for you. So you pulled him aside to talk to him.

“Y’know, I speak for myself right? Believe it or not, I learned to talk when I was a little kid.”

You try to lighten the mood a little but Joel just frowns. He crosses his arms and leans back against the wall of the alley.

“I know you can, it’s just that-”

He trails off. You furrow your brow.

“That what? That I can’t take care of myself? I can’t speak for myself?”

Joel looks away, looking sort of ashamed.

“I’m a grown man. I can fend for myself.”

You say indignantly. Joel looks back at you.

“I know you can. I just get nervous sometimes.”

The look on his face made you feel bad for bringing it up.You step closer to put a hand on his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch. You take a moment to breathe before speaking.

“I know you worry. I get it. I worry about you all the time.”

You lift Joel’s head and he opens his eyes to look at you.

“But I promise you, I can take care of myself.”

Joel nods.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you. You just tend not to fight unless you absolutely have to.”

You nod.

“Just because I resort to things other than violence when I can, doesn’t mean I can't fight.”

You explain to him. Joel raises his eyebrows.

“How ‘bout we strike up a deal.”

Joel starts with a smile on his face.

“We fight. Hand to hand. If you win, I’ll back off.”

You grin. You knew Joel would ease off of you just because you said something, but the offer sounded interesting.

“And if you win?”

You ask him. Joel leers at you.

“I guess we’ll see.”

Joel starts to walk away and you follow behind him with a chuckle. The two of you walk through the streets of Jackson and back to Joel’s house. He opens the door and the two of you walk in. You move to hang up your jacket, hearing Joel coming up behind you. You think nothing of it until Joel puts you in a headlock and starts pulling you away from the coat rack.

You grunt before finding your opportunity to get out. You wrapped your leg around Joel’s calf, pressing your foot into the ground. It caught Joel off guard. He loosened his grip on you enough for you to turn around in his arms. You straightened your knee, bending Joel’s, and toss him to the ground. His arm was still around your neck when he went down so he pulled you down on top of him. You push yourself up onto your elbows as you look down at Joel. He looked flustered and he was breathing heavily. You laugh at his expression, lightly combing your hand through his hair.

“Nice try.”

You grin and push yourself to your feet, holding out a hand to help Joel up. He gets to his feet and looks at you. He still looked like you had ruffled his feathers. He simply walked away without saying anything, his ears bright red. Joel attempted to catch you off guard a few more times that night. The last time he tried was when you flopped down on the couch with your arms crossed and your eyes closed.

Joel kept his footsteps light as he walked over to the couch. He pounces on you, pinning your arms above your head. Your eyes snap open and you look up at him. You quickly bring your knee up to his chest, digging it into his sternum. He groans and pulls a hand away, letting you wriggle your hands free. You flip him onto the couch and pin his hands above his head. Instead of giving him space to do the same thing you did, you pressed your chest against his. He only struggled for a moment before submitting. He looked twice as flustered as he did before. You gave him a light smile before letting go of his hands. You sat up to look at the man below you.

“You alright, Joel?”

He took a second before responding.

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah I’m alright.”

Joel stuttered over his words for a moment. You laughed.

“It kinda looks like you enjoy being thrown around a little.”

You say to tease him. He flushes and avoids your eyes.

“Holy shit. You do like it!”

You say with a grin. He pushes you off of him and sits up as you laugh. You pull him closer to you and put a hand in his hair.

“Aw, it’s okay. Your secret is safe with me.”

He shuffles closer and you laugh again. Joel likes being tossed around a little.

I’m sorry if this is a little off. I’m a bit distracted lately. 😅

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x male reader #i love joel miller #reader insert #male reader insert #male reader #x reader #x male reader #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou series #tlou show #i love pedro pascal #pedro pascal #requests

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horuslupercal · 24 days

Text

got asked on the Guilliman post so

How Primarchs Cry (To Me)

Lion: represses and represses and represses and then hides away in a closet squished into the corner like a cat on its deathbed but otherwise cries pretty normally. do not point it out to him. gets defensive if you point it out

Fulgrim: gets headaches from crying so hard. keeps a handkerchief nearby because his face gets all gross. at some point in every hardcore crying session he verbally says, "enough." because it annoys him

Perturabo: trying everything in his power to give off the vibe that he never cries. takes every breath very carefully to make sure it's silent, confidently strides off away from this shit (hides away), etc

Khan: is fine, is fine, is fine, and then he's laying in bed and suddenly has to bolt upright to cry into his hands because holy shit that's sure a wave of emotion. it's okay, it'll pass, but hooooly shit at this exact moment it hurts. doesn't want to be seen but it's not the worst thing in the world if he is

Russ: crawls under Freki and Geri like when they were pups and cries for a good while. at some point he rolls over and runs his hand over his face and then grabs one of his brothers around the neck for a wrestle session and he's either fine or he's fine enough to keep on keeping on

Dorn: goes to a private room, does the "I am in control of my emotions" like Spock in that one TOS episode, and then spins around and puts his fist through the wall. opens the door with a hole in the wall and his hair no longer perfectly coiffed and his face blotchy and red and tells you he wasn't crying

Konrad: either silently weeping or wailing like a banshee. never in between. he doesn't choose which.

Sanguinius: the only primarch who can pretty cry but only up to a certain level. at some point he starts screaming and wailing like a fox caught in a bear trap and doubling over in pain and his hair gets all stuck to his face

Ferrus: throws tantrums. doesn't collapse to the floor like a toddler but does start breaking things. makes fun of the reason for his upset -- the mid-funeral roast session in some au where Fulgrim dies pre-heresy would get him cancelled on twitter because it's the only way he can deal with something that shattering. I'm pretty sure I got that headcanon from @luwupercal actually

Angron: cries for all sorts of reasons. sometimes the nails make him cry, not because they hurt or because he hates them but just because they're directly fucking with his brain chemistry. that's the kind of passive cry where he's crying but it's not an event, it's just his tear ducts doing their thing. used to seek out comfort from his siblings in the pit when he was crying from emotion, now he flips tables and screams

Guilliman: an asthmatic pug caught in a plastic ring. gasping for air, sounds like he's being strangled, the works. sounds like he's dying

Mortarion: also sounds asthmatic, on account of the asthma. his tear ducts don't work right so he doesn't really "cry" so much as hyperventilate and occasionally dry heave

Magnus: the crying is what it is, the psychic crying is the real event. his aura gets real sticky and slow and sad, like syrup, and has a tendency to kind of. contaminate other people with his grief unless he specifically stops it from doing that. I feel like he cries when he's mad, too

Horus: sits down and covers his mouth with his hand and puts his elbow on his knee and cries like that. for some reason I feel like it's especially weird for the luna wolves to see him cry -- it's always weird to see your parent cry, but it's extra weird for them and I'm not sure why. horus sitting on a couch crying with his head in his hands and two luna wolves sending panicked looks at each other 👍

Lorgar: compresses/hugs himself so hard he can't breathe, digs his nails into his skin, etc. we saw in the first heretic that he makes himself physically uncomfortable about grief and that's really stuck with me tbh. doesn't really.... know how to cry without also being in physical pain about it

Vulkan: bows his head and weeps, standing right where he is. weirdly bad at being okay with his own grief specifically -- he'll comfort a brother without issue, but his own makes him feel on edge and sedentary and he needs to move and do something and not stand here being sad, he needs to take action, he can't let it be sticky and slow

Corvus: repression king. he can't cry right now he's too BUSY. fuck this shit. and then there's a trigger and he shatters like a popsicle bridge with too much weight on it. the year of isolation before his departure definitely involved a blanket burrito

Alpharius Omegon: how do they need to cry for this scenario?

#warhammer #it's me #primarchs

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alazystranger · 2 months

Note

Do you have any bottom Luffy Zolu fic rec? (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡

At your service, anon!

spill your wine by The_Furthest_City_Light : this one had me in a frenzy. I stayed awake all night to bingeread it! A/B/O dynamics

There’s—a certain stance, maybe, or the way light hits his captain just right when he stands on the rail of the Merry, all sharp curves of jawline and the gentle slope of his neck and bare shoulders. The contrast of his dark hair and tanned skin. The swell of his calf, too, Zoro finds distracting. The artful leanness of his captain. In those moments Zoro’s knees go weak. He nearly drops his swords, he’s so overcome with it. Beautiful, he thinks, and he’s got no clue if it’s him or his alpha thinking it. Beautiful. We'd be so good to you.

Twice impaled by Sabbath(I_AKnownGay): short and yet so good

Luffy wants an ear piercing because that would be so cool and everyone would be so jealous. What follows is a long awaited encounter that neither Luffy nor Zoro expected on such a regular quiet day.

anything for you by grimsoul: you know just by reading the summary that this will be an amazing read.

“I’ll only hurt you.” Despite not looking at him, Zoro feels Luffy smile, a golden sun that rivals the silver moon of the night. His fingers run through Zoro’s hair, ghosting along his scalp, so devastatingly gentle. “You can never hurt me,” Luffy whispers into the wind. Into his hair. Into his heart. Zoro learns the overwhelming truth and crumbles down under the devastating weight of it; that Luffy will do anything for his first mate just as much as Zoro will do anything for his captain.

take it to hell by lulushishii: reading this was so much fun!

After Luffy and Zoro disappear from a feast, Nami, Usopp, and Brook go searching for them while the others continue to party. After finding themselves locked inside a treasure vault, they notice a secret window to the next room over, where Zoro and Luffy have no idea that their poor, tormented crew mates can see everything they don’t want to see through the viewing side of a two way mirror.

stay in this night with me by lucerile. porn with feelings, my beloved

His fingertip traced Zoro’s cheekbone and down to his jaw before he met Zoro’s fixed gaze. He didn't even blink. “You said you wanted to fuck me.” He stated it so matter-of-factly that Zoro laughed quickly. He sat up on his elbows and caught Luffy’s mouth with his, groaning into the kiss. “I do,” he breathed into Luffy’s open mouth, tasting tangerines on his tongue. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for a while, captain.” Zoro and Luffy finally get some alone time.

perfectly planned by threeswordorgy. one of the best first time fics of zolu out there imo. also, sometimes the overprotective brothers thing becomes cringy but not in this one! the ending to this is gold.

They're finally taking the next step- sneaking Zoro through the window while Luffy's brothers are out

a tale of two gods by grimsoul. wrapping up this rec list without having any zolu religious imagery fics in it would be a crime. this made me feel so insane /pos

“Ne, Zoro, come with me,” Luffy said, giggling, pulling him closer. “You’re going to be a part of my court.” Contrary to what most people believed, hell was a rather cold place. Zoro had been quite used to it, the lack of light, the vast glaciers, his body no longer as fragile as it was eons ago, and so a simple touch like this from Luffy, from the sun, made him feel like his flesh was scorched—melting away easily like winter in summer’s heat. They were close, so close that their foreheads were almost touching, and despite the burn of it, Zoro didn’t push him away. He smirked, his one eye glowing just as red as Luffy’s. “Don’t decide something on your own, idiot.”

hope you have a good time with these.

enjoy!!

#zolu fic recs #zolu fic #bottom luffy #one piece fanfiction #zoro x luffy

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soft-mafia · 2 years

Text

Dirty magician

Contains: fem y/n, oc insert, nsfw, rough sex, manhandling, dry humping

I wish I got a chance to do kinktober but it’s already nearing the end of October so I’m a bit too late😭I’m so sorry my life has been incredibly hectic and I’ve been so busy with literally everything I haven’t found the time to actually write something I’m so sorry, hopefully I’ll be more free by the time winter rolls around😢😢 in the meantime take this as an apology for my absence.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” Was the words he growled into her ear the first time he had taken her in his bed.

The man would always be rough, ravaging her in tight, contorting positions— bending her body for his own pleasure. Whether he would hold her legs up under his elbows and fuck her up and down on his lap, or if he would bend her legs back until her knees were pressed against the sides of her head so he could properly plow her. And his favorite; fucking Y/n while she’s face down, grabbing her ankle while he held her foot above her head, his knee pressed down on the thigh of her other leg, keeping her wide open for him to fuck.

However, right now he didn’t have much time to remove his clothes; rather he was too impatient too. His lust called for him, the one thing he wanted most was his body on Y/n’s, for his hands to grab and squeeze her tightly without stopping. Dry humping seemed to be the most convenient thing for him, it would serve to get him off either way.

Just seeing Y/n’s naked body was enough to drive him insane.

His hands, large and rough with veins that traveled up his arm and flexed at the back of his palm while strong fingers pressed themselves into her skin. The magician’s hands dragged down her body, grabbing and squeezing any part he could get his hands on no matter how sensitive the area was. Hisoka nursed on her neck, suckling on it and peppering sloppy rough kisses all over her lower jaw and shoulder; his lips smacked as if he was enjoying a nice meal.

Y/n held onto his free hand, the hand that was keeping himself balanced by being placed down firmly on the mattress right beside of her head with his other was busy exploring her body while he dry humped her; his cloth on her bare naked cunt.

There were moments where they’d share tension with a single glance, no matter the distance whenever they locked eyes or caught a glance of the other; the insatiable lust boiled within Hisoka, and the desire to be noticed and doted upon washed over Y/n.

Whenever she saw him all she could think about was his touch; the memories of his hands on her, cock buried deep inside of her and the moments they would share after. Hisoka would lay her on his chest, she could get to see his bare skin, subtle scars while he rubbed her back with the tips of his nails. The thoughts that can’t be forgotten even if either of them tried to forget. Hisoka was lustful, but tender and sweet when needed. He was an odd man, but that only piqued Y/n’s curiosity further, gravitating her closer to him rather than away like how everybody else was.

He was fun, and interesting to be around. He was intelligent, charismatic, strong, handsome, but for the most part he was quiet and stoic— he preferred to keep to himself unless spoken to directly. Around her Hisoka became a bit possessive, sometimes he wouldn’t acknowledge her at all but other times he would come up to her, just to press his body against hers, standing as close as possible; or he would put a hand on her back and usher her away from any other people so he could be alone with her.

Hisoka was alone with her right now, he had taken her back to his place because he just couldn’t keep himself contained any longer— he has nothing better to do and Y/n just happened to be in his frame of view almost coincidentally. Now he was above her, his bare, sweaty chest against her sweaty back as he grunted like an animal snapping his hips back and forth with the bed creaking under them. Hisoka’s boner was bulging through the fabric of his trousers, each time he would thrust forward his clothes cock would make contact with her wet, swollen pussy(still red and puffy from the last time he had sex with her).

“Nnhhhh..!!” Y/n whimpered, looking at Hisoka over her shoulder with watery bedroom eyes. Her back arched to where her butt was perked up, giving his cock a good angle to thrust into, “Ah-aaaahhhh..!!”

Hisoka pressed his lips to the side of her head, letting out a gruff moan as he kissed her, a droplet of his drool rolled down her face, “Mm.. My naked slut.” He grunted, his fingers moved down, digging into her hips as her legs squirmed helplessly under him. Hisoka was no doubt a very selfish man, Y/n shouldn’t have entertained him for so long let alone sleep with him; the only pleasure Hisoka had known was the high he got from battle, but now he knew the orgasmic bliss of sex and now he was using her body up whenever he pleased; another high he was desperate to chase.

He scooted forward, pressing their bodies closer together with his pelvis pressed more tighter onto her ass, grinding and snapping to create more friction for himself; more deep, grumbled noises escaped his thin lips. “Keep still, good girl.” He hissed, “Breathe through it like a well trained slut.” His abdomen clenched, he was going to cum soon. Hisoka’s hand clamped down on Y/n’s hip and held her firmly to his crotch as he ground harder onto her, his grunts grew louder.

Y/n had came, squirming under him, panting and whimpering in a sweaty, sticky mess. The bed creaked under them, louder than the thumping caused by the headboard hitting the wall. Hisoka’s head leaned up, his eyes screwed shut and his teeth grit before letting out a strangled noise, then a soft gasp as he came into his pants, “Shit..” he whispered between his teeth; his grip let up on Y/n, his hand slid up her waist and held her under her breast. They both panted heavily, the magician laid on top of her.

“Dammit.. I’ve sullied my white pants.” He cursed, muttering with his lips against the back of Y/n’s neck. “You’re the one who didn’t take them off.” She pouted at him, tired and pulling one of his comfy pillows close to rest her head on. “Mmm, that’s why I tell you not to strip before me. Because you know I can’t control myself.” He replied, hand moving up and down her body, rubbing her in a vertical motion.

“How is that my problem? You have a self control issue.” The girl swiveled around, sitting up on her elbows now with Hisoka still laid over top of her. His hands were on her back as he looked up at her from his position, “I have urges, dear, you know that better than anyone.” He kissed the spot between her boobs before laying his head on her chest.

“Whatever..” Y/n groaned tiredly and laid flat on the bed, holding Hisoka’s head close to her. “I want to do something with you tomorrow, I have a mission.” Hisoka mumbled, “Just stay the night, get some rest baby.” His use of pet names made her heart thump in her chest. After giving a little eyes-closed nod, Y/n’s head rolled to the side, both falling asleep with each other in arms.

It’s not clear if what Hisoka was feeling was truly love, perhaps he was only indulging in his feelings for Y/n because it got him sex, which would be normal for his selfish behavior. A glimmer of an emotion was there, because he knew he felt something. That small boost of serotonin whenever he would notice her from afar, or when she would give him a brief hug if she ran into him. He wasn’t about to figure out, as long as he kept Y/n around, he would be satisfied.

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existslikepristin · 2 years

Text

Ah, October. What a great time to be alive... JK, I live in the desert. It's still miserably hot.

Anyway, Kinktober begins again. This time around I randomized the kinks myself and then assigned an idol to the pairs that I thought fit.

I can't say I'm super happy with the results this first week, but I promised myself I'd post it tonight at the latest. What can I say? Sometimes in life, you write gems. Other times, you write mediocre responses to internet challenges. Next week will at least be a lot more fun, if not just much better.

Tags: TheLounge, Sounds, NSFW, Dreamcatcher, Loona, Gahyeon, Heejin, Kinktober!, sthenolagnia which is not just "shenanigans" spelled by someone having a stroke as it turns out, hair pulling, a little crying, some minor breathplay

Kinktober (2022)

Week 1: Sthenolagnia + Hair Pulling

“What’s wrong?”

“Noth—… Nothing.”

“Really?.”

“I’m fine… Ah! I’m fine.”

Gahyeon licked the edge of Heejin’s ear and chuckled at the squirm that followed. “I don’t think you are.”

Out of all the idols who’d ever asked to have their face shoved into the floor and then be fucked (which was unexpectedly common for Gahyeon), Heejin was probably the most physically capable of escaping. Every time she twitched, Gahyeon wondered if it was a sign that she was about to be ragdolled across the room. She wondered, but certainly didn’t worry, since she was entirely confident that Heejin was enjoying herself too much to try such a thing.

After all, Heejin’s twitches were the result of Gahyeon’s leg rubbing against her clit, not her shoulders being twisted back and up. Most likely.

“Why don’t you just break out?”

“I can’t…”

“Sure you can, Heejin. Just look at you.” Gahyeon punctuated with a sharp pull back on Heejin’s elbow. The shoulder flexed and tried to relax over and over again. The muscle fibers visibly contracted beneath Heejin’s skin, reddened and warm in the areas they were being stretched further than they should and pinched in the worst ways. The little, pained releases of caught breaths turned Gahyeon on just as much as the impressive physique beneath her. It seemed Heejin was trying hard not to cry, or at least cry out, but unfortunately for her, Gahyeon could see tears forming in the corner of her eye.

Gahyeon shoved harder into Heejin’s crotch, using her trapped arms as extra leverage. In the exact same moment that Heejin grunted in pain, her cunt drenched Gahyeon’s knee.

“You’re strong, aren’t you?” Gahyeon moaned as she spoke. “So, so strong and beautiful, but you can’t get out from under me because your little twat is so needy.”

Heejin grumbled something potentially rude, but the wood floor muffled her. Gahyeon switched grips and pulled her up by the shoulders, arching her spine further than it should be bent. Heejin bit her lips together and one tear escaped her eyelids and rolled over her cheek.

Gahyeon grabbed a single large handful of Heejin’s hair and used it to hold her in that back-breaking position. She played the fingers of her other hand over Heejin’s straining neck and shoulder blades. It amazed her that such hardened clay could be so pliant. She licked Heejin’s neck, then her shoulder, and down her arm. Every point of contact made Heejin reach up, threatening to remove Gahyeon from her back, but her arms quickly dropped again to hold herself up in a hopefully (but definitely not) less painful arrangement.

Practice room mirror walls were always fun to fuck in front of. Gahyeon could do all sorts of things to people from behind and observe their reactions. With Heejin specifically, it meant she could grind into her ass and be visually served a whole platter of abs at the same time. Gahyeon kept Heejin bent upright by the hair, but slid her other hand around, alternating between fondling Heejin’s perky tits and tracing her tummy and ribs.

Heejin’s eyes were closed, and her mouth was wide open. Her breaths were heavy, but quick and shallow given how tightly her chest was constricted. She was starting to sweat. She didn’t just look damp though. She shimmered. Her whole, muscular form glistened, which, putting it lightly, made Gahyeon real damn horny.

Gahyeon hooked a leg around Heejin’s thigh, and combining that with the grip on her hair flipped Heejin onto her back, taking care to let her head down slowly. Relief poured over Heejin’s face as she was able to take in her first full breath in a while. Gahyeon caressed her jaw. “There. That’s better, baby,” she cooed, “Take some nice, deep breaths. You might need them.”

Normally, Gahyeon’s submissives would look afraid just then. The really masochistic ones would give her a stupid grin. But Heejin simply did as she was told, looking stoically up into Gahyeon’s eyes, slowly lifting her arms over her head, palms up as if to say “I won’t fight back” as if the confirmation was necessary.

“Oh, you’re a good girl.” Gahyeon twirled a middle finger around Heejin’s nipple and climbed on top of her, grinding her pussy on Heejin’s stomach. “I think you actually deserve a reward.”

That made Heejin smile a little, and Gahyeon knew that her change in strategy was effective. Causing pain for pain’s sake was never the goal. It was just a primer. Something to make whatever Gahyeon did next stick better in Heejin’s mind.

“What will your reward be, hm? Do you want a kiss, or do you want my fingers inside you?”

“Am I allowed… to ask for both?”

“Sounds a little greedy… But I’ll give it all to you.”

“Really?” Heejin’s eyes, though still tired, radiated.

Gahyeon placed a hand on Heejin’s pelvis and inched downward, stroking torturously slowly over her clit until her fingers rested at the entrance. “Yes, baby, yes. Just flex for me.”

Immediately, Heejin’s fists clenched and her arms contracted. Gahyeon adored her hopeful grin.

“I meant your stomach, so I’d have something to rub on, but I like that too. Why don’t you do both?” Gahyeon phrased it as a question, but her tone was demanding.

Heejin did as she was asked/told, clenching her tummy to form tight grooves that made Gahyeon’s grinding a bit more literal. Gahyeon held up her end of the bargain too, carefully dipping two fingers into Heejin’s core, keeping her palm against the Olympian girl’s clit. She wiggled them back and forth just enough to elicit Heejin’s quiet, gasping reactions.

As Heejin’s pleasure rose, however, she began to relax. Gahyeon couldn’t have that. She slid her fingers out, and watched Heejin’s expression shift from exaltation to expectation. “For how strong you are, I’d have expected much more out of you.”

“Wait… I can do more!”

It was the neediest voice Gahyeon had ever heard from her.

Gahyeon placed a cum-plastered finger to Heejin’s lips. “Not more. Just keep flexing.”

There was hesitation, but Gahyeon felt Heejin’s stomach tighten up again, and saw her arms squeeze. She removed her finger from Heejin’s lips and went back to her pussy, quickly resuming her finger play.

Minutes passed. Heejin kept her body taut. Her ribs became more pronounced as her breath shortened. Gahyeon was disappointed that the sweat was drying up, but she loved the effort. Twice, Heejin broke down, unable to keep straining for so long, and Gahyeon pulled out in those moments, but Heejin immediately got back to it.

“You’re incredible, Heejin, you know that?” Gahyeon said as she bent over to kiss her forehead. She slid a hand under Heejin’s head and got a good grip on another handful of hair, using it to tilt Heejin’s head back and anchor her down to fully control the upcoming kiss.

Heejin whined and tried to rise up to meet her, but she couldn’t make it far enough, barely brushing Gahyeon’s lips with her own.

“Careful, honey bunny.” Gahyeon squeezed the hair she was holding, pulling Heejin back. “I’ll be the one kissing you, not the other way around.”

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dilucsfav · 2 years

Text

diluc x f!reader (smut)

hi guys welcome back to my page where you realize how much of a whore i am for this beautiful man (pls pls guys I promise i’ll make more characters just give me time i have crippling writers block)

anyways yesyes so diluc. i wanted to make an actual fic instead of just hcs because im a decent writer i think and i can halfway use grammar- anyways yes smut for horny hoes enjoy

!warning(s): sadistic(?) diluc, teasing, hair pulling, marking, semi-clothed sex, rough sex, dirty talk, nsfw 18+, diluc is horny and mean :(, idk what else i missed

The tall man adjusted his gloves, sighing after wiping his forehead with his forearm after just serving a drink. His eyes wandered the room, drinking in all of the faces that were fogged with drunkenness.

He exhaled, rolling up his sleeves and placing both hands on the counter, taking a sharp breath out. His eyes flicked up to your soft hand tapping the counter, his brows furrowed as his eyes adored you.

He gulped down the lump in his throat when he saw your outfit. The tight dress, the knee socks, the strawberry lipstick, the cleavage barely covered.

He had never seen you dressed in such a way. When did you even walk in? He hadn’t heard the clink of the bell at the door from the opening.

Had you been behind a group of people? Your nails were nicely done, the red nail polish suiting the red dress you were in. Your dark eyelashes fluttered, the ruby eyeshadow clearly visible to his view.

“Good evening, Master Diluc,” you addressed, your leg crossing and your brow rising. The man before you looked thirsty- his jaw was hanging low just a bit. You smiled, your nails matching the tint of his hair color. The way his name rolled off your tongue made his mouth water.

He immediately shut his mouth, leaning up and cuffing the rolled up sleeves. “Good evening, (Y/N). May I get you a drink tonight, ma’am?”

He had served you times in the past, and every time he did, you were dressed nicely. Dressed nicely, but never like this. You two loved seeing each other, but you didn’t know that about one another.

You caught his eye every single time, your flashy jewels or your attire. He would be a liar if he refused how much he enjoyed seeing your body displayed on the stool you always sat in.

Nobody else made his breath shake or his hands clench into fists like you had. He tried not to narrow his eyes at you with a lewd tint to them, but sometimes when you weren’t looking, he couldn’t help himself.

He had never felt such sexual feelings for somebody like you. Let alone one of his customers that had walked in from time to time every few weeks. And frankly, Diluc didn’t have a very high sex drive.

“No, thank you, sir,” You quickly said, placing an elbow on the counter and leaning in a bit, closer to his body, his eyes watching your exposed chest. “My eyes are up here, though, silly.”

Immediately, Diluc was snapped away from his trance as he quickly looked up at your expression. His face flushed when he saw your unamused look, your rings tapping against the counter.

“My deepest apologies. Might I make up for my rudeness for something in return?” The bartender fingers collided, his mouth shut as the tip of his tongue glided along his top set of teeth. Studying you.

Girls like you with your hair done up, with your ass hanging out— your dress barely covering it— were girls that Master Diluc usually didn’t fancy.

You were different. Your mannerism around the bartender somehow had a different sensation than any other playful lady who usually flirted with him. Most of the time, he watched the door carefully to ensure that you were not there.

He craved to see your red lips speak to him, or watch your legs cross and your neck fall back. He wanted it all. Diluc was excited when he saw you in the tavern.

“Please, don’t worry about that,” you insisted with a smile, catching the hopeful gleam in the red haired man’s face.

“No,” Diluc pressed, pressing his chest against the bar counter and leaning his head down to your level, his warm breath tickling your hair, “please. I insist on it.”

You smiled to yourself, pushing back a smirk to his words. Ahh, yes, you knew what you wanted— the recipe to one of your favorite drinks that he served here.

You would have loved to ask him right that moment, but he still had costumers to give drinks to and there were people all over the place. It wouldn’t be something Master Diluc would want to let get around.

Your body moved into his movement, your cleavage hanging down right there in front of his eyes. His brow furrowed, trying not to avert his gaze to your pumped out chest below him.

“I would like something…” you whispered, smiling and looking at him through you lashes, “different. After tavern hours, if you must.”

Diluc quirked a brow to your words, eyeing you before biting back his tongue. He didn’t think you were so bold to ask him something of that nature.

Although he didn’t complain, it just stunned him of how easy you were to slip under his fingertips. And, even then, how easy you would be to be under him.

Diluc sighed, moving away from the counter and nodding. “Mm… I can tell you’re in such a mood. Based on your looks tonight.”

You furrowed your brows as he walked away to serve another customer. What was he talking about?

In the last hour, the tavern was open and the clock was going by extremely slow. Diluc glanced over to you, occasionally seeing you fix your bra straps or seeing your legs spread, the band of your underwear wrapped around your pretty hips tightly.

The man had to step to the side to clear his head multiple times, allowing himself to imagine grazing your skin with his fingernails or ridding you of those tight knee socks.

He couldn’t imagine somebody as slutty as you as somebody he wanted to fuck. To touch. To hold.

As his eyes desperately watched the clock, people slowly started leaving the tavern before closing hours. There were empty shot glasses, empty cups, and dirty tables that needed to be cleaned after everybody evacuated.

But that wasn’t going to happen just yet. Master Diluc still must repay his debt of looking at you in places he shouldn’t have looked at.

Although it was an unusual glance, a suspect gesture, and an interesting choice of words, he wondered why you would want something like that from him.

You lifted yourself up to stand, your eyelashes fluttered as you and him stood alone in the empty tavern. Diluc gave you a small look, quirking a brow at your stance.

“So…” you exhaled, walking to your left to walk behind the bar counter where Diluc was. His eyes watched you delicately as you walked past the small sliding door, standing in front of the man.

Your hands were clasped behind your back, and you gulped down your nervousness. Master Diluc looked so sure of himself as he walked close to you with the click of his shoes.

It suddenly striked you of the still fact you hadn’t told him exactly what you wanted. You hadn’t disclosed what “debt” you wanted Diluc to repay to you.

When he stood so close to you, his body towering over you and his hands pinning your hips to the countertop, you realized what he wanted. What he thought you wanted.

It clicked to you. Master Diluc thought you were going to ask him to give you his dick. The most richest, handsome man of Monstadt assumed you were a slut. And wanted underneath his trousers.

Diluc’s brows rose to your hips shifting to the opposite direction of his left hand meeting your hip.

“Is this… what you wanted?” He exhaled, his lips so close to yours. It felt like he wanted this— wanted you.

With a simple pat on his chest, a small turn of the head, and a little smile, he saw the embarrassment displayed on your little face. He saw anything but disapproval.

You wouldn’t stop him— in fact, you would encourage him. You had admired him for so long, had visited him for so long. It wasn’t just because he had money and he was handsome and had good wine— you genuinely wanted to know him.

So when you felt him spin you around and thrust your hips into the bar counter, with his hands holding your waist, you didn’t say anything back.

You squinted your eyes shut as you felt his lips against your ear from behind, the heat of his breath tickling your ear, “is this alright with you, Ms. (Y/N)?”

You quickly nodded, stifling a small “yes” as his hands pushed down the little dress that squeezed your hips tightly. Your ass was on full display for him when he quirked a brow to the lingerie you were wearing.

Master Diluc hummed, unclipping your bra from behind and throwing the cloth to the back. You gasped when you abruptly felt his lips form a circle on your back, licking and sucking at the spot.

You hadn’t even kept track of time by the time your entire neck and back was covered with dark hickeys. Diluc licked his teeth, directing his gaze back down to your lower body.

“Now, onto the fun part.” He carefully pushed you back around to face him, everything uncovered except for your pussy and legs. Master Diluc gripped your thighs, glancing back up to you one last time for any disapproval.

To his satisfaction, you did not object when his fingers ran against your clothed clit, making you throw your head forward on his still fully-clothed body. He slowly pulled down your underwear and grabbed your hips, setting you down on the counter in front of him.

You felt so insecure because of the light shining right above you, and just because Master Diluc took a step back to just look at you. The only thing you had on were the tight knee socks that were suffocating your thighs. You knew the whole reason he didn’t take those off was because he wanted to fuck you in them.

It made you nervous when his eyes lingered on your bare pussy, and that made you push your thighs together and cover your chest.

“W-well? Don’t just— stand there and make me wait, Master Diluc. H-help. Me,” you pushed, blushing and rubbing your inner thighs together. Diluc smirked to your wet cunt rubbing onto his counter.

“Do you really need assistance? You’re doing fine on your own, I see,” Diluc stated, narrowing his eyes down to your sad attempt in giving your pussy any attention.

“I-“ you started, squeezing the counter, “but I don’t want to touch myself!”

Master Diluc’s eyes went dark as he looked at you. He cuffed his sleeved where the ends met his elbow, and he walked up to you while tightening his high pony tail.

You moved back a little when he leaned into you, raising a brow. “Did I say you had to finger yourself in front of me, miss (Y/N)?”

You yelped when he grabbed you and pressed you on a different spot on the counter to where your back was against a wall. He made it so your knees were up and he flung your legs onto his shoulders. You gulped, staring between his eyes.

“Now. Ask nicely to be touched this time.” His cool breath pressed against your lips and into your folds, making your head jerk to the side and made you rub your heels against the man’s back.

“Please. Master Diluc, touch me, please,” you cried when he pressed his middle and ring finger against your clit, rubbing them into your skin with gentle circles.

You shivered, wrapping your legs around his neck. He blinked up at you with half-lidded eyes, quirking a brow.

“If you want me to touch you, your legs need to be spread apart, Ms. (Y/N).” With those words, you slowly allowed them to part again, making Diluc’s eyes narrow down to your cunt.

“Mm…” Diluc hummed, his mouth meeting your hole again and his breath tracing all over your wet pussy.

The bartender grabbed your thighs to keep them still and licked up the mess you had made, as much as he could. He was gentle with his licks and slow with with his hand movements when he rubbed your thighs, rubbing some of the skin underneath the thigh highs.

He planted a final kiss on your clit, making it well-aware that was his way of teasing you. And not eating you out.

Master Diluc snapped his fingers, pointing to the floor and raised his brows at you. “Stand.”

You quickly stood straight, getting on your feet and standing against the counter. Master Diluc’s eyes wondered your body, unbuckling his belt and setting it aside, dropping his pants.

“Turn around, Ms. (Y/N).” With his words, you turned around and furrowed your brows. You gasped when you felt two hands trap themselves on your waist, holding them and slamming your front into the bar counter.

You held yourself on the counter, biting your lip when Diluc’s chest pressed against your back. Your knees almost gave out when you felt his tip.

“Now be a good little slut and stay still, eh?” Diluc’s breath was right up against your ear before you whimpered, dropping your head low. Diluc clicked his tongue, not accepting that response. You grabbed a big handful of your hair and jerked your head back up.

His cool lips were right back on your ear. “I asked you a question.” You quickly nodded, squinting your eyes shut.

“Y-yes…! I’ll stay still like the- good little slut I am!” You cried, looking back at him with creased brows. He quirked a brow to your expression before humming, shoving your upper body and face back down on the counter.

You gripped the bar counter when you felt his cock insert your hole, making your eyes widen from how deep he was slowly pumping inside of you. You whimpered and drooled all over the bar counter, Diluc’s gloved hands guiding your ass against him.

“Mm…” Diluc hummed, pushing back into you with a harsh force, making your head fall on the other side of the counter. He only went faster with each thrust, making the corners of your eyes start to blur to where you could barely see the bar stools right down in front of your eyes.

“A-Agh…!” You cried when Diluc found a certain spot inside your pussy that made you feel pure satisfaction. Your eyes went foggy and your hips shifted when his dick hit that spot.

It made the tavern owner quirk a brow to your subtle movement. You weakly lifted your head as he continued to pound into your cunt, your brows creased when you stared at him.

There was a small bead of sweat down his forehead when he understood what he had done. His dick quickly repeated that same process of abusing your g spot, making your legs spread further and your nails dig even more into his counter.

Diluc grabbed your hair again, yanking your face up by your hair to where he could see your expression. He saw your red face and the tears threatening your eyes. He saw the drool dripping down your chin and the way you were crying out his name— the way your body shook underneath of him.

It didn’t make him stop or slow down his pace. In fact, he only went faster, making your front slam rougher into the edges of the bar counter.

The hands on your hips lifted you up suddenly, slamming your body on your stomach on the counter. Your thighs were spread further and your knees were lifted higher, giving the redhead more leverage.

This just made it easier for him to pound into you, and you gasped at his much quicker pace. The slapping of his balls against your skin filled the room, and your mind went foggy the more his cock sunk into your walls.

A tight feeling began in your cunt, making you grip the bar counter even tighter than before.

“M-Master Diluc…!” You cried and panted, turning back to look at him, “I’m so close…!”

“Ahh? Then cum,” Diluc prompted, slamming his cock slow and hard into you. Almost immediately after, your walls tightened around the man’s large dick. Your brows creased when you felt yourself come all over the ginger’s cock, making you whine.

Suddenly, Diluc took out his cock, and you turned your head, gasping at the man. His hands were on either side of your hips and his head was lowered.

You could only see the top of his head and the rise and fall of his muscular shoulders as he grunted lowly, as he was cumming himself.

You barely arched your back, trying to catch your breath. Before you could even just do that, you gasped when you saw Diluc’s head tilt back up after his release. His brows were furrowed, and he barely looked tired. You jerked your head forward and against the bar counter when you already felt Diluc’s harsh thrusts inside your cunt again.

You looked back at the man once more, clenching your teeth and looking between his eyes. “Master Diluc. I-”

“I know I came. I’m waiting for you to, as well.”

His words confused you. You already did, couldn’t he tell from the way your body reacted? You shook your head, whimpering and staring into his lustful eyes.

“I- I just did…!!” You cried, gripping the counters and feeling Diluc’s thrusts slow a bit.

“Ah…” he trailed on, placing his chin on your shoulder and whispering against your ear, “I suppose you’ll have to do it again. Let me watch you this time.”

#diluc x y/n #genshin diluc #genshin impact smut #master diluc #diluc ragnivindr smut #diluc imagines #diluc smut #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x you #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact #hoyoverse #mihoyo #diluc scenarios #genshin smut

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terrortwinss · 1 year

Text

Dallas Winston x fem!Reader

Written by Spiral

It was dark in Tulsa, Oklahoma and you were just about to go to bed after a long and boring day of hanging out with your friends. As you flipped the final switch to the bathroom you walked towards your room.

When you stepped inside your room you felt a cold shiver run down your back it felt oddly chilly inside your room as you walked over to the window to see if it was open, it indeed was. You look over the ledge and saw a slight spilt in it. It was broken.

As the realization set in that someone broke into your house you became highly alert and hearing the muffled noise of the closet opening didn’t help it you were to scared to turn around as you heard the soft thump of footsteps on the carpet floor. The intruder crept closer and closer ever so quietly.

When you felt their breathe on the nape of your neck you used every ounce of strength and forced your elbow into their side effectively knocking them down. You quickly turned around only to find the pretty face of Dallas Winston forced into the carpet as he tried to suppress the groans of pain as he held his sore side.

“Damn baby if I knew you were gonna do that I would’ve held you down..” he chuckled standing up with the walls help.

“How’d you even get in dal” you asked hands resting on your hips and a scowl on your face he didn’t even seem to care about you hating being scared as he sat on you bed, Dallas insisted on doing it every chance he got.

“Pried the window open with a stick” he answered easily, you sighed police record and all you could never really stay mad at him he had that affect on you the way no one could stay mad at two-bit for long you couldn’t stay mad at Dallas.

Though that didn’t mean you didn’t like fuckin’ with em.

You turned your back to him, giving him a petty version of the silent treatment.

“Aww,sweetheart you mad at little ol’ dally for havin a bit of fun?” He teased getting up from his spot on the bed in favor of resting his weight on your back.

“Dallassss!” You whined as he practically pinned you down against the wall with his weight. “Get off, ya damn ,asshole” as you were about to cuss him all to hell he slipped his hands up your shirt and gently kneaded your breasts together in a clockwork manner.

“Doll,y’know I hate it when you cuss at me like that..” he whispered in your ear “reminds me of my old man” he sneered taking a rough grip on one of your nipples, causing a startled yelp to come from you.

“Dally, easy baby that hurt.” You whined and he placed butterfly kisses in your neck “my bad, doll face” he let a teasing breathe leave his lips as he turned you around to face him. “My god” he said nipping lightly at your ear “what?” You said “you look so beautiful like this” he grinned his handsome grin.

You tilted your head down at the comment not use to being called such things yet. He made quick work with take your shirt off leaving only your bra and sweats he put his right under your butt making your knees go weak and give out. He caught you and hitched you up making you wrap you legs around his slim waist.

“Easy there doll I haven’t even started much yet” he said carrying you over to your bed dropping you roughly. “Jeez Dallas, rough much” you nipped secretly liking the roughness of the latter something about him treating you as if you would break didn’t always sit well with you, you sat up and undid your bra letting it drop in you lap before throwing it around the room somewhere.

Dallas had a slight tent to his pale cheeks making him look all the more cute not that you’d ever tell him that he liked to think he was the tuffest thing that walked out of New York and into Tulsa big, bad Dally as you continued you thoughts on your lover boy he was busying himself with kissing and licking up and down you chest and stomach sometimes it caused a giggle and other times it drew out quiet moans.

One particular kiss right above your pants got a loud and sudden moan out of you, embarrassment clouded your face when you realized the noise you made and Dallas drank it up. Teasing the spot more and more as time went on he made his way lower and lower down your body before taking your pants off as they were in the way of his work and progress.

“Don’t you worry one bit sweetheart imma make you feel real good tonight..” He mumbled before tossing the last of your clothes and his shirt and pants off leaving you completely nude and him in his tidy widies. He placed his hand on your boob before kissing you. Messy and wetly he slid his tongue along yours drawing out low moans and soft pants while he grounded his hinds into you in a way that made you throw your head back in bliss. “D-Dally, just like that again!” You exclaimed him doing you ordered grounded into you again he made a noise between a hiss and a snarl of pleasure.

“Ahh…doll you’re doin so good” he said in between heavy breathes and low moans wanting him to be closer for better fraction you wrapped your legs around his waist again and pulled him into your chest tangling your hands in his hair you so desperately loved with one last movement you reached you limit. “Dallas!” You yelled out. Pulling his hair slightly in sync with your release. You released your legs from around his waist and your grip on his hair allowing him to sit up.

“I ain’t done with you yet, doll face.” He heaved finally removing the last of his clothes becoming nude like you have been. “Let me know if this hurts,sweetheart” he said slowly pushing into you using your earlier release as a type of lubricant you scrunched your face up in discomfort it stung like hell and when tears started falling from you face in small streams he lovingly kissed them dry. When he finally had himself fully inside he took a moment to let you get comfortable after a few minutes you stated rocking back and forth on him and “GOD!” did it feel good.

Dallas took your reaction as a sign you were comfortable and slowly slid out before pushing back in causing a low moan to escape you he didn’t care though slipping out again and this time roughly pushing back in you bit you lip to keep from screaming his name out but he simply lent down to your ear and whispered. “Come on baby doll, I wanna hear you,please?” That was all it took for you release your lip from between you teeth and letting the lewd sounds invade the room you two occupied he continued to rut into you a such a rough rhythm you couldn’t even made a sound but your facial expressions said everything for him. You started moving with him at a certain point making the pleasure ten times better for the both of you.

Then he got that spot that caused such a loud, long, and by far the most sinful sound to leave your throat that’s how he knew he found your sweet spot he kept the same pace he already had this time aiming for that certain point that would drive you crazy, and every time he hit it dead on. “DALLAS, please keep going, please!” You whined and begged you were so close and the burning in you stomach felt so good right about now. “Ahh~, god you are so pretty like this doll face!” He expressed kissing your lips roughly and driving his tough right to tangle with yours.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOD!” You repeated wrapping your legs around him and driving him deeper into you hitting the spot better than he was before causing you to rake your nails over the busied and batter back of Dallas leaving fresh red scratches that would surely scab over. After a couple more thrusts you dug you nails into his back as you had you second release of the night. Heavy breathing and shortening breathe were all that filled the room when Dallas slowly stopped moving. “You didn’t finish?” You asked feeling a bit bad about having the whole night to yourself. “Nah, think you can help me with that?” He question giving his big pretty eyes a little flutter, you giggled.

“Course I can, baby” you teased slowly getting off the now messed up bed to your knees while Dallas moved to have his legs hanging off the bed. You innocently looked up at him before lightly kissed his throbbing erection it drew a low guttural moan from him. You kissed all around it purposely avoiding the main event to egg him on. “Come on baby, I ain’t got all night now” he snarled getting inpatient with that you took him in your mouth slowly looming your tough over his tip he gripped your hair and curled his fingers in it a clear sign to “hurry the hell up” you let out a small moan making the boy bow his head down and small huffs to leave his body.

You liked that reaction so you did it again this time slowly starting to lick all around him and suck him simultaneously this combination caused tears to form in his eyes and to bite down on the ball of his fist to keep quiet seeing as he was gonna keep silent the whole time you ran your hands up his thighs slowly dragging your nails along them teasingly, humming pleased as he loosened his balled fist and let out a whine so cute you couldn’t help but coo making more vibration and more whines to leave.

He came not to long after and you swallowed every drop careful not to spill any you look up at your lover boy and saw tears still in his eyes the aftershock catching him by surprise, you walked off to the bath room and started to run a hot bath checking the water every so often when it was full and ready you hauled Dallas over and into it joining his soon after sitting behind him.

After washing yourself and him you put the sheets in the washer and put a different set on the bed opening the pried open window a little more letting the smell of sweat and sex leave the room during the night, shutting the lights off and getting into bed had to be the best thing you did all night and then when Dallas huddled up between your boobs you stroked his soft hair and kissed his head lightly.

Before dozing off yourself content with the events of the night.

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first time writing smut please request more stuff!

-spiral<3

#x reader #dallas winston #matt dillon #smut #female!reader #the outsiders

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khazadspoon · 4 months

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A little something, maybe gen maybe slash, between Rowdy and Jesús because I suddenly had them on my mind this morning.

———

“Jesús?”

He shifted on the bedroll, head turning on the saddle beneath it as he craned his neck to glance at his companion for the last couple of days.

“Yes, señor Rowdy?”

Rowdy was a shadow in the midnight gloom, just a sliver of moon and a few stubborn stars poking through the layer of cloud in the sky. “You ain’t going to ever just call me a rowdy, are you…” It wasn’t a question. Jesús smiled to himself and shook his head, hoping Rowdy saw it. “Guess it’s alright. But, ‘soos, why d’you stick around? You’ve got enough to help your ma out now, and she’s doing well, you could go home and- and settle down, y’know?”

He thought for a moment, taking in the curious tone of Rowdy’s voice and the huddled form of him under the blankets. It was a chilly night and they had set their rolls close to fight off the chill as best they could.

“Because I like it out here,” he answered after a long pause. “Wide open spaces, beautiful skies, horses that listen to me… it’s peaceful. A man can forget himself here and still keep what makes him himself.”

It was Rowdy’s turn to pause. He turned on his side, pale cheeks and bright eyes the only part of him not tucked under blankets or his hat. Jesús turned on his side as well and propped himself up on one elbow.

For all his attitude, all the times señor Favor had chewed him out for impulsive actions and angry words, Rowdy did a lot of thinking. He spent long hours on his horse with a contemplative look on his handsome features, often visiting the remuda just to talk to the horses about things he didn’t talk to the other drovers about. Jesús did his best not to pry, finding something to do to keep distance, but he heard snatches of worry and almost philosophical musings on the state of the world.

“Do you…” Rowdy paused, swallowed thickly, scratched at his cheek in the way he always did when he was nervous. “D’you think you’ll stay out here forever?”

Jesús smiled and watched as it caught on Rowdy’s face too. “Not forever. A while, yes, because I am young and there is a lot of life to be lived. Things to see, people to meet, perhaps even a love or two to have and lose.”

That got a chuckle as he knew it would. “Think I’ve had more than my fair share of that…” another scratch of his cheek. “I ain’t got much to go home to. Ma gets on fine without me, no sweetheart to worry about. I guess… it never felt like home after the war. It didn’t fit. Or maybe I just didn’t fit it. I came back like some lost child looking for family in a stranger.”

He shuffled closer, dragging his saddle so they could lean close like boys on a camping trip. Their knees bumped through their blankets. “The world is a strange place, señor Rowdy, and God works in many strange ways. Sometimes the places we are born and the people we are born as aren’t the ones we are meant to die in or as. I think that’s is what drives men to be vaqueros. We are nudged out of the door and onto the plains and prairies to find ourselves.”

Rowdy smiled softly at him, tucking the blanket under his chin. “You sure are a romantic, Jesús.”

He shrugged and smiled back, fingers idly plucking at the edge of Rowdy’s blanket. “I’m a lot of things.”

“All of them good,” Rowdy said lowly, the words almost a breath. “C’mon, we should at least try and get some sleep. No use trying to buy horses if we can’t see ‘em straight.”

Jesús let go of Rowdy’s blanket and shuffled the blankets back up around himself. “Goodnight, señor Rowdy.”

“G’night, ‘soos.”

#rawhide #jesus patines #rowdy yates #they’re both so young and I want them to be bestest friends forever

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afro-hispwriter · 2 years

Text

CUNNILINGS(DAY 2)

will poulter x reader

Wc- 778

kinktober masterlist

It had been so hot lately, no matter how many fans were on or how low you turned the a/c down. It was just too hot, and the London weather wasn't helping. You just wanted to surprise Will by visiting him in London but instead he's probably going to find a puddle. Your last resort was to take a shower, a cold one, but in all honesty. It would be cold for a second then you'd immediately change it to hot.

"Okay, Will isn't supposed to be back for a few hours, plenty of time." You told yourself and started your shower.

But oh you were so wrong.

Not even 5 minutes unto the shower, Will was stepping in through the front door. He set his stuff down when a familiar suitcase caught his eyes. He immediately smiled and rushed to his bedroom expecting to find you there but only heard the shower and music.

"Y/nnnn." He called out but he received no answer. He kicked his shoes off and took of his shirt and undid his pants. "Love?" He opened the bathroom door and was hit with the steam of the bathroom. He walked up quietly to the curtain and pulled it back to see you washing your body with a cloth. Will stepped back and pulled his boxers down completely and stepped in behind you. He put a hand on your hip and squeezed, if only he'd have accounted for the flying elbow that hit him in the stomach making him heave over

"Oh shit." You say and immediately grab his face. "Im so sorry."

"No im sorry, shouldn't have snuck up on you." He pecked your lips. You brought his head down closer into a sloppy kiss. He slipped his tongue in your mouth and reached down to squeeze your ass. "I missed you." He started kissing down you neck and trailed down your body. He got onto his knees and kissed your inner thighs.

"I was planning on treating you baby." You say and thread your hands into his now wet hair and tugged.

"You'll get your chance Love, right now I just want to be in between these amazing legs." He grabbed the back of your left knee and pulled it over his shoulder. He sucked softly on your skin until he reached your mound. Seeing Will on his knees in front of you made you clench around nothing. His breath on your cunt made you shudder and push your hips forward to his mouth. “Calm down, I’ll give you what you want.” He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked.

“Oh shit!” You smacked your hand against the wall. Its been to long since you’ve had any stimulation, sometimes the fingers just isn’t enough. He opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. He looked around your body and grabbed your ass tightly, he pushed your lower body into him and smacked your ass. He pushed the tip of his tongue inside and pushed his nose against your clit.

He let your ass go and reached down to grasp his hard cock. He continued his attack on your pussy, enjoying the taste. You rolled your hips against his face and tugged on his hair. Will pulled back and took a deep breath before diving back in, but this time he looked up at you. He shook his head, with his mouth still on your cunt.

“Will please let me cum!” You cried out and through your head back against the tile. Will just smirked and started moving his fist up and down his cock. Your stomach was tightening and your legs shook to the point where you could barely stand up. It was long until your eyes rolled into the back of your head and came. Will let go of his cock and grabbed your hips to keep you up. He removed his mouth and licked his lips.

“You taste so good.” He said and stood up, wincing at the pain in his knees. Once you took notice to your surroundings you smiled at Will. Before you could say something Will pressed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes and melted into the kiss until you felt something press against your hips. You broke the kiss and looked down to see his cock, red and angry. Will watched you reach for his cock and his breathing picked up. You grabbed it and passed your thumb over the tip before smirking up smirking up at him.

“I think its time I took care of you.”

#will poulter x reader #will poulter #will poulter smut #will poulter x black!reader

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effervescentdragon · 1 year

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i saw ur tags about the concert and piarles so i thought to prompt you officially? coldplay concert + piarles

this was a long time ago, anon, i hope you're still around and you like this. @sebsrainbowbicycle this one is for you actually, because this one caught my eye now when we were talking and all i could think was fix you and then yellow <3 this is a mess bcs im tired, imma fix it up sometime.

Pierre doesn't remember how old he was when he first heard the song, or what he wore, or where exactly he was. All he knows is that it made him think of Charles.

That shouldn't have been significant, because even then he knew he thought of Charles a lot more than was probably normal, or expected, or okay. Even then he knew that the way he felt about Charles wasn't how he felt about any of his other friends, or his brothers or cousins. So it shouldn't have been significant, really; except that it was, because the whole song was Charles.

When you try your best, but you don't succeed; that was Charles on the racetrack, winning the race but losing the championship, coming out of his kart and trying not to cry, making Pierre wish he was closer so he could hug him.

When you get what you want, but not what you need; that was Charles getting his wins and his podiums, getting to race as much as possible, and being late or being absent from Pierre's or Arthur's or his maman's birthdays because he was off somewhere in Europe in his kart, flying.

Tears come streaming down your face when you lose something you can't replace; that was Charles with all the unfairness of the world thrown into his face, losing everything except races; Charles with his red-rimmed eyes and sincere smiles, tearing his chest open to the world, because if he showed his bleeding heart first, it wouldn't be a mystery, and they may leave him alone; Charles with his hands shaking reaching for Pierre and asking for something Pierre was always more than happy to give, until the world shook as much as they did.

When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep, stuck in reverse; that was Charles sneaking into Pierre's room in France over the summer, elbows and knees sharp as he burrowed into Pierre's bed, eyes huge and shiny in the night, his breathing uneven as he tried to let go of the adrenaline and the fear and the thoughts in his head and finally fall asleep, holding Pierre's hand in his and gone by next morning like an apparition.

When you love someone, but it goes to waste, could it be worse?; that was Charles in his red team, in his red racesuit and his red car, Charles with his red lips and red dreams and red legacy, Charles with his red trophies and red blisters on his palms, rough against the skin of Pierre's neck and so gentle that it made Pierre want to cry sometimes, but he never did, only brought those hands to his lips and kissed them.

Except the song wasn't only Charles; it was Pierre too.

When you're too in love to let it go; that was Pierre, screaming at Charles to go and reaching for him when he finally did, begging him not to leave, not to go, because Pierre never wanted him to go, no matter how many times Charles crashed into him or said stupid things or didn't understand why Pierre still went down to his knees to pray; Pierre never wanted him to leave because Pierre would always love Charles more than he would hate losing, and that is something that won't ever change.

Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, the whole crowd sings, and the lights shine bright in the night, and Pierre only has eyes for Charles. Charles, who is standing right next to him, and who has tears in his eyes, even though they aren't falling; Charles who is singing along, his lips quirked in a small smile; Charles whose hand is so close to Pierre's, he feels it burn; Charles, who is so beautiful, Pierre still can't believe it sometimes, and who wears his victories and defeats with a dignity that Pierre admires, especially since he is the only one who sees him when he is stripped of all of it and finally sincere and true, and loves him either way.

But if you never try, you'll never know just what you're worth; that was Pierre, looking at the phone in their bed, his hands shaking, his lip trembling as Charles lay with his head on Pierre's thigh and said nothing when Alpine called, only smiling softly, shyly, proudly and kissing Pierre's thigh before he left the room to give Pierre some privacy; that was Pierre, all those years ago, reaching for Charles when Charles snuck into his bed once again, not a kid anymore, and finally asking for what he barely allowed himself to think about, and having Charles climb into his lap immediately and finally kiss him like the world didn't exist outside his room in France, and it didn't in that moment, nor in any following moment when it was only two of them alone together.

Charles moves his hand closer to Pierre's as the applause roars, and his pinky finger hooks into Pierre's. Pierre feels the ring on Charles' finger hit his own ring, and imagines hearing the sound which he's heard a million times before, every time he intwined Charles' fingers with his, on planes under the blankets, on the couch as they watched a movie, in bed as he was leaning over Charles, holding his hands above his head.

"And I will try to fix you," Pierre mouths, and Charles' smile widens, because they both know some things aren't meant to be fixed; some things are as they are, not good and not bad, just are, and those things they both choose to accept over and over, and it's never a hardship that isn't worth it in the end.

Another song starts, and they stare at each other for a moment, before Pierre grins, and Charles blushes, because this one; this song is all Pierre, and still all about Charles.

'Look at the stars, look how they shine for you,' everyone sings, and Charles' eyes shine as brightly as the sun, and Pierre mouths "You know I love you so," and Charles nods, and doesn't look away, only squeezes Pierre's finger tighter, their rings aligned, as close as possible.

#this is a mess im sorry im extremely sleepy but i couldnt sleep till i got it out #piarles #this is disgustingly soft and diabetes inducing #fuck it #dee i love you a lot #f1 rpf #my writing #effervescentdragonwrites

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