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eat-limes-bitches · 1 day

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Southern Cookin'

PAIRING: Female Reader x FATWS!Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: When Bucky and Sam get stranded in a Storm, they go to the nearest place they can, Bucky’s country home, but what happens when Walker shows up at the front door too?

WARNINGS: Fluff! Touch of angst, angry southern woman (this is a definite warning, if you've lived with one, you know."

Word Count: 1844

A/N: It's been storming its butt off here down south and as I was baking brownies this idea popped into my head and made me giggle, so I hope yall get a chuckle out of it too! Stay safe out there <3

Enjoy! <3

Dividers by Rookthorne

The mission was a disaster. Not only had they just got their asses kicked, but they also had to deal with the Bullshit from John Walker and then the country sky opened up with an early summer thunderstorm, drenching the two men with its torrential downpour.

“We are hours away from the nearest safe house.” Sam sighed, looking at the database.

Bucky looked over at his teammate, Sam was suppressing a shiver each time the wind blew. His split lip and bruised cheek getting more gnarly with each passing minute. He looked up at the sky, the dark swirling clouds showing no signs of letting up any time soon. Fearing for Sam's health and with no other option in sight, Bucky let out a sigh.

“I know a place.” Sam raised a curious eyebrow but didn't ask any questions, the idea of a warm shelter too tempting to risk Bucky changing his mind. Bucky looked around for a moment, to Sam it almost seemed like he was calculating his location based on the landmarks before giving a little nod.

“Should be just on the other side of this field. 15-minute walk give or take.” Bucky concluded, making his way through the field, Sam not far behind him.

Soon, the pair found themselves on the front porch of an old country farmhouse, the white porch swing swaying violently as the storm picked up. Bucky reached for the doorknob before pausing and looking over his shoulder at Sam, fixing him in his infamous glare before uttering a low warning.

“Not a word of this to anyone. You hear me?”

Sam was used to Bucky’s gruffness at this point in their partnership but this was a new level of protectiveness that he hadn’t seen before. He raised his hands in a placating motion before agreeing. The tension that seemed to be permanently engraved in Bucky’s form disappeared as soon as he stepped through the door. The sound of their entrance caused a woof to erupt from a room on the other side of the downstairs. Bucky toed off his boots, motioning for Sam to do the same when a rusty-colored dog came rushing into the room through a dog door barking his head off. Bucky let out a chuckle, catching Sam by surprise, watching as Bucky then crouched down to greet the dog.

“Hey whiskey, it’s just me bubba.” Bucky cooed, scratching the pup behind his pointy ears.

“Where’s your momma little man?” Bucky asked the pup, removing his hand as the dog darted off back through the dog door before poking his head back through, watching the two men.

Bucky stood, and followed after the dog, waving Sam along with him. The pair walked through a second door and they were both hit with a wave of warmth, causing Sam to let out a little sigh. The house smelled of cocoa and sugar, the sound of the storm outside blending into the calming atmosphere while a record played in the background. Just as Bucky was about to walk through a little hallway, Sam caught his shoulder, turning Bucky to look at him.

“Man, where the hell are we?” He asked, and then nearly fell out when he saw pink flush the ex assassins cheeks.

“Uh, this is my home. I uh, I live here.” Bucky mumbled shyly refusing to look Sam in the face. Sam raised an eyebrow.

“You live here on your own?” He pressed a little further. Bucky shook his head.

“Nah, I live here with my girl.”

A person appeared from around the hall corner as if on cue, the little red dog hot on her heels. She looked at the two men, her gaze fixing on Bucky. She smiled at him sweetly, brushing her hands off on her apron, leaving floury handprints in her wake.

“Bucky! You’re home!” She waltzed over to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, pulling back realizing how cold his skin was.

“James you’re freezin’ and gettin’ water all over my hardwood floor.” She scolded him a country accent slipping out as she spoke. She then noticed Sam standing behind him and pursed her lips before fixing Bucky in a glare.

“You brought company over here in an even more sorry state than you and haven’t offered him anything to dry himself off or a fresh change of clothes!” She proceeded to chase the two men up the stairs giving strict instructions to change and dry off while she put a pot of coffee on.

Sam let out a chuckle as the woman made her way back to where he presumed the kitchen was as the pair made their way upstairs.

“She’s a spitfire huh?” Sam asked, taking the change of clothes from Bucky who just shrugged slightly, a soft smile decorating his features.

“Yeah, you could say that.

Now in dry clothes, the two men wandered into the kitchen right as she pulled two batches of brownies out of the oven. She looked up after setting the brownies on the counter, giving a nod of approval seeing the men in a more presentable state. She wandered over to a cabinet throwing it open and reaching for the coffee cups on the top shelf, just out of her reach when Bucky appeared behind her, pulling them down from the shelf and placing them in her hands.

She smiled sweetly up at him before standing up on her toes and planting a quick kiss on his lips.

“Thank you darlin’” She smiled softly.

“Of course doll.” Bucky smiled right back, stepping out of her way as she moved away to pour the coffee.

“Sam? How do you want your coffee honey?” She called out, pulling out the cream and sugar.

“Uh, just black is fine. Thank you-” His words faded out, not knowing this woman's name. She handed him a mug with a chicken on it before handing another mug with a goat on it to Bucky before she spoke.

“Y/n.” She sent him a sweet smile before picking up her own mug and leaning into Bucky’s side who had lifted his arm to make room for her.

Sam had a smirk on his face looking between Y/n and Bucky as he spoke, “I didn’t know Bucky had a girlfriend,” He drawled out the word girlfriend, watching Bucky’s cheeks get darker as he looked anywhere but at his partner as Y/n laughed.

“Yeah, he doesn’t want to tell too many people. Somethin’ ‘bout worryin’ for my safety.” She shook her head as if the thought of Bucky trying to protect her made her laugh.

Sam nodded in an understanding fashion. “Does anyone know about your little secret Buck?” Sam teased lightly. Bucky gave a soft smile with a faraway look in his eyes.

“Steve did.” At the mention of the name, the room grew heavy with sadness. Y/n seemed to shift a little deeper into Bucky’s embrace before stepping away cutting the brownies and giving each man a piece.

“So you knew Steve.” Sam started, looking at Y/n thoughtfully.

“Yes, I did.” She started with a sad smile. “It was a bad storm like today, he and Bucky showed up at my door looking like two drowned rats, thinking it was one of the safe houses. Well, they were so pitiful lookin’ that I couldn’t just turn them away. So much like you two, I brought them inside, put them in dry clothes, and made them some coffee.”

Just then there was a knock at the door. Bucky set down his coffee cup and went to investigate, leaving Sam and Y/n alone in the kitchen. Y/n reached over the counter and placed a hand over Sam’s.

“Look sugar, I understand why you did what you did.” She said softly. “Do I agree with it? No. Does Bucky agree with it? Of course not.” She let out a sigh before continuing. “But I understand it. But if there is one thing I know about Steve Rogers, is that he wouldn’t have just left anyone with that shield.” She concluded, patting his hand when Bucky let out a shout, causing the pair in the kitchen to dart to the front room.

When they arrived, there was a soaking-wet John Walker and Lamar Hoskins standing on the front porch. Y/n walked up to stand next to Bucky before looking at the two men.

“Can I help you two boys?” She asked, glancing from one to the other. John, seeming to puff up in the presence of a pretty lady, extended his hand out.

“Good evening ma’am. John Walker, Captain America.” Y/n looked from his hand to his face, making no move to accept his handshake.

“Your name very well may be John Walker, but you’re mistaken on the Captain America part sweetheart.” She gave him a once over before continuing, “You look more like a sorry excuse for a rodeo clown on the fourth of July than Captain America, but either way, that didn’t answer my question.”

She took a step up to Walker looking him dead in the eye. “Can I help you?” John seemed to deflate, stuttering over his words trying to make some sort of logical sense. Y/n raised her eyebrows waiting patiently for this worm of a man to get his act together and with no end to his incoherent mumblings in sight, she sighed.

“Well, if you don’t need anything, I’ll have Hades show you out.” She said sweetly. Bucky chuckled lightly before backing up to stand next to Sam.

Sam leaned over to Bucky. “Who the hell is Hades?” Bucky just nodded towards the door as Y/n let out a loud whistle.

“Hades! We have some guests that need to be escorted out.” As soon as the word “out” left her mouth, a huge black Doberman appeared out of nowhere, growling and barking at the two men at the front door. With one loud bark, Walker went flying off the front step and back down the path to where their car was waiting, Lamar, hot on his heels as Hades bounded down the steps chasing them off with Whiskey following suit.

The two dogs watched attentively as the car drove off and once they deemed the men to be far enough away, came bounding back into the house, tongue lolling out of their mouths, causing the trio to laugh until the dogs were inside making a mad dash for the living room.

“Boys! You get back here!” Y/n shouted, grabbing a towel off a nearby chair and chasing after the two soaking wet dogs. Bucky, still laughing, walked over to the door closing it before walking back over to Sam, who clapped him on the shoulder.

“You’ve got yourself a good one,” Sam concluded. “Don’t let her get away.” Bucky smiled watching on in amusement as Whiskey ran by with the towel that Y/n had grabbed to dry him off, with her hot on his heels.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x you #fatws bucky x reader #fatws bucky #fatws #sam wilson #james bucky barnes #fatws bucky barnes x reader

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sykostyles · 3 days

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melodies | 1.2

summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless mafia boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that. wc: 3.1k

warnings: swearing, harry being insufferable, suggestive content

a/n: hello loves! I am still on vacation but I was able to spend a little time editing this chapter of melodies to get it posted for you! I hope you all enjoy! here comes the DRAMA!!

The box. The infamous box. Its contents?

“Styles, wha–,” you’re speechless. How did he do it? Where did he? “--Is that what i think it is?”

“That depends,” he starts, a shit eating grin on his face, “do you think it’s a custom, handmade replica of the diamond and ruby necklace Julia Roberts wore in Pretty Woman?” He looks at you deviously, “Because that’s what it is.” You just stare at him in shock. “Oh, and it’s all yours.”

“Harry,” you breathe; your voice full of disbelief and amazement.

“You–,” he smiles, “You just called me Harry.” He’s beaming. His whiter than white smile is on full display; pearly whites shining bright enough to blind. He’s happy. Ecstatic.

“You deserved it,” you place a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving a blush on his skin in your wake. “Would you help me put it on, please?”

“I would be honored,” he takes the necklace from the box. He hooks it together before placing a featherlight kiss where your neck and shoulder meet. The contact makes you shiver with anticipation. “Fits in like it was made just for you,” he smiles against your skin, his hands finding your hips, pulling you back into him as he speaks.

Turning in his hold, you place a kiss on his lips. “Thank you, Sty–Harry. It’s beautiful,”

“You make it beautiful,” he comments, giving you another kiss before he opens your car door. Harry helps you in, holding your hand as you sit down, minding the train on your dress.

“So, where are we going all dressed up?” you ask, as he takes his seat in the car.

“Ah, that would spoil the other surprise,” he grins from the driver's seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other is planted on your thigh.

You huff in response.

“Alright, brat,” he laughs, “It’s a business dinner, and some.. Live entertainment to follow.”

“Styles..”

“What happened to Harry?”

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

“Depends,” he chuckles.

“Am I getting my Pretty Woman moment?” The hopeful glint in your voice makes him feel a sense of pride.

“For the record, you don’t need the dress and the whole shebang to have a Pretty Woman moment,” he looks over to you, your excited eyes look back in awe of the man next to you. He really is determined to give you everything you want in order to make you his. The amount of thought he’s put into everything really shows you how much he listens to everything you say, and it makes you feel things you can’t explain.

“You're in love with him, stupid,” Ellie's voice rings in your head. Shut. Up.

“You don't need all these sweet words and grand gestures to get what you want out of me either,” you say, placing your hand atop his on your thigh.

“I know, but I thoroughly enjoy seeing that smile of yours.”

Arriving at the dinner, Harry opens your door as you’re met with flashing cameras. He’d warned you that there would be paparazzi here but you weren’t anticipating this level of insanity. But you probably should have, knowing Harry’s status.

He stops for a few photos, requesting you stand with him for all of them. Harry didn’t want you out of his sight. The paps shout questions of your identity, where you met, how long you’d been together, if you were pregnant, that one made you laugh, you had to admit. But the attention being on you was never what you wanted. It's why you never pursued the stage. It didn’t comfort you like it did your mother. The stage terrified you.

Making your way inside, there’s a sea of people dressed to the nines as they make pointless conversation amongst themselves. They all seem super interested in each other but you know better. Harry had warned you ahead of time that these people don’t actually care about anything going on, it’s all for show. Who can donate the most money while keeping up appearances. Tonight was about the benefit of the city, meaning whoever donated the most money basically had the mayor at their mercy. Harry had been the highest donor for the last decade. Not to say others hadn’t attempted to take the spot from him. But he could always handle it. Tonight was about celebrating Harry. Most people were unhappy with a Yakuza having the upper hand in the city, but knowing if they said anything the funding would immediately stop.

“Harry,” you mutter, eyes roaming the room before you.

“Hm?” his eyes follow yours, immediately understanding your apprehensive state.

“This is.. A lot of people.” your fingers clutch the sleeve of his jacket, holding his arm as close as possible.

“I’m here with you, Birdie,” he whispers in your ear, placing a soft kiss on the shell. “Just focus on me, yeah?”

You nod once, not letting up on your grip on his jacket as he led you further into the room, heading for your reserved table. Harry pulls your chair out, then takes his seat next to you.

A little into the evening, a tall man with blonde hair approaches your table, a curt smile on his face as he speaks.

“Evening, Harry. Who is this lovely specimen?” He asks.

“Jones,” He grumbles in response. “This is Y/N.”

Harry offers the man no other explanation in return. You can feel the shift in the air. So this was Jones. He’d left before you’d arrived the last time his name was mentioned. He’d intrigued you for sure, not many people could sour Harry’s mood that easily just by being present.

“Hello, sir, lovely to meet you,” you extend a gloved hand to the man standing near the table, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N what a lovely name, I’m Scott Jones,” he takes your hand in his, offering you a kiss on the back of your hand. “Tell me, just what is a beauty like you doing with a man like Harry?”

“She likes being with...the strongest,” Harry answers for you, standing from his seat. “Now if you’ll excuse us,” he holds his hand out for you to grab, “Dance with me?” he asks, diverting his full attention to you.

“Of course,” in your typical fashion, you still address Jones as you’re pulled away. “It was nice meeting you,” you say, offering him a sweet smile; a silent apology. Harry leads you to the dancefloor, placing the palm of one hand into the small of your back while holding the other one up for you to grab. lacing your fingers together, he begins to sway.

Harry spreads his fingers out across the surface of your lower back; each touch leaving a trail of heat.

“So that was Jones?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “He has some nerve..”

“Hey,” you reach up, tilting his gaze down to you, “Just focus on me, yeah?” you mirror his earlier words back to him. His smile grows, but his worry does as well. Now Nanami knows Harry has a weakness, and that weaknesses name. But he knows he can protect you. As much as you’ll let him anyway.

“How could I focus on anything else?” his gaze bores into yours, a sense of total adoration washes over you as you look into those crystalline emerald eyes. You could see the whole future in them. Tables adorned with navy, black and gold. Roses fill your hands as you’re led down a petal covered aisle, looking ahead to Harry at the end. I do’s and kisses are swapped. Hands exploring dips and curves. Slow, languid movements filling you to the brim. Sweet nothings whispered against sweat slicked skin. Small patters of tiny feet across tile floors. Those tiny feet carrying a matching tuft of chestnut hair, green eyes and a bundle of giggles as bigger feet follow behind..

“Birdie? Did I lose you?” Harry chuckles, his voice snapping you back to reality.

“Hm? Oh! Sorry. I got stuck,” you mutter, letting go of his cheek. The thoughts are still burning in the back of your mind. Every thought seemed so real. Like it was a memory instead of a daydream.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks, anticipating some sort of panicked response.

“Just..doing this,” leaves you in a whisper. You place your lips over his in a soft kiss; your hands find their way back up to cup his jaw, making him smile against your mouth. He hums in approval, his hands attempting to pull you as close to him as possible.

“I think you’re trying to seduce me in front of all of these people,” Harry teases you as he pulls away. Your cheeks turn a soft pink at his words. “If you wanna go somewhere more private just let me know.”

“Stop it,” you whisper, taking back in the amount of people surrounding you. It feels as if every pair of eyes were following your every move. One pair of eyes was following your every move, and it wasn’t Harry’s.

Jones stood in the corner with his men as he watched, and waited.

Harry led you back to the table as the dining portion of the evening was about to commence. A full meal entailing all of Harry’s favorites, which had somehow turned into your favorites too. The night had been wonderful so far; the conversation flowed so freely it was as if you and Harry had been together forever.

“Harry,” place your hand on his thigh, leaning closer to him.

“I’ll never tire of hearing you say that,” Harry says, turning to give you his attention.

“Think I’m ready,” you whisper, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you look up at him.

“Ready..?”

“Mhm. For this,” you motion between the two of you, “Us.”

You watch as his eyes get even brighter than they were. He looks to you for real confirmation. The smile plastered on your face was the answer he needed, and so he kisses you. “You’ve just made my entire life,” he groans before he kisses you again.

“Remember we’re not alone here,” you giggle as you pull away.

“Ask me if i care,” he tries chasing your lips with his, “You didn’t seem to care when we were at the beach yesterday.”

“We were in a somewhat secluded cabana, not an open table at the front of a great hall with hundreds of people watching, Harry.”

“Ugh, I already know I’m gonna love when you say my name when you're mad.”

“You’re already so insufferable,” you huff, turning away from him.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” He reaches to turn your chair back towards him, caging you in with his arms. “Tell me you’re mine,” he whispers, eyes locked on to yours.

“I–I’m yours,” you whisper back, staring back into his eyes as he searches yours for any sign of apprehension.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you lean forward, sealing the deal with a kiss once again.

A voice booms throughout the space, startling you enough to pull away from the man before you. Harry readjusts, as he pays attention to the announcer behind him.

“Good evening folks, thank you all for attending as we celebrate the continued support from our guest of honor, Mr. Harry Styles.”

Applause follows. Your eyes scan the room, finding Jones staring right back at you from his spot on the edge of the room. You offer him another sweet smile before overting your attention back to the man at the front of the room.

“Harry, come on up here,” the man speaks into the microphone.

“I’ll be right back,” Harry assures you, offering you a quick kiss before taking his stand at the front of the room.

“Evening everybody. I’m thrilled to be back here for another year. Even more so this year,” he looks over to you. “Someone very special to me came with me this time, and I intend to make her my wife one day.”

The room fills with ooh’s and aww’s as Harry pauses. “So, we all owe everything to her tonight, for making me the happiest man in the world. So if you would all join me in raising your glasses,” he starts, leaning down to grab his glass from your hold.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-yell at him. He just offers you his devious smile in return.

“To my lovely Birdie, thank you for attending with me, and for making me incredibly ecstatic tonight by agreeing to finally be mine,” he raises his glass a little higher. “To Birdie,”

“To Birdie,” the crowd rumbles behind you. An anxious smile spreads across your lips as you turn to see everyone staring at you. You stand, albeit reluctantly, and politely bow with a smile. The other tables erupt in applause, as Harry pulls you to join him on the stage, his arm snaking around your waist. “We hope you enjoy the live entertainment in the concert hall for the evening, once you’re finished dining. The proceeds from tonight will be donated to the children's hospital. Have a great night, everybody.”

More applause fills the space as you exit the stage with Harry, his hand firmly holding yours.

“What was that?” you ask through gritted teeth as you smile.

“Staking my claim, and also showing my appreciation for my lovely lady,” he smirks at you as you take your seats again at the table.

“I would appreciate not being the center of attention,” you huff, slapping his hand away from your thigh under the table.

“Now now, Birdie. You have been the center of attention all evening,” he slides his hand back up your thigh as he leans down near your ear. “I’ve just been too distracting for you to notice.”

“You are quite distracting.”

“So, should we go somewhere more private?”

“Mm, no. I want to see this live entertainment,” you remove his hand from your thigh again, taking a stand from your chair. Harry stands with you, offering you his arm to grab as he leads you to the concert hall.

The live performer just so happened to be Rod Stewart. How that happened, Harry swears he doesn’t know. But the devious glint in his eyes says otherwise.

He’s performing all of your favorites. The ones you’d sing with grandfather in the car on the way to the next city. And the ones Harry likes you hear you sing along with.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips after kissing him.

“Anything for my lady.”

Harry sits next to you, an arm around your waist as he studies you watching the performance below. He knows you wish you were able to do that like your mother did, but he also knows the thought of it terrifies you. He’ll make it his mission to help you face your fears if that's what you wanted from him. But if you’re okay with being on the sidelines as well, he’ll help you with that too. Anything you want, he’ll make it happen. He thinks tonight is the prime example of that.

After the performance, Harry leads you to the car. Opting for Niall to drive this time, he takes his seat next to you in the back.

“Did you enjoy the evening? Was it, quote unquote, fun enough for you?”

“Oh, god Harry, that was amazing. I’ve never enjoyed myself more.”

“I don't think I’ll ever tire of hearing you call me that,”

“Yeah?” you ask, sliding closer to him.

“Yeah.” he breathes out, cupping your cheek and kissing you softly. He smiles into the kiss so you push your tongue into his mouth, taking him by surprise. Harry lets you have your fun for a moment before he reminds you who's in charge. He reaches to his left, pressing a button on the door to close the window between the front and back seat. Gripping your waist, you’re brought onto his lap, knees on either side of his legs. The kiss deepens, your arms finding their way around his neck as his hands explore the expanse of your back.

“Harry,” you whisper in his ear. You move your hands to tangle into his hair, earring a soft moan from his throat.

“Please, keep going,” he mutters, readjusting himself beneath you. His hands planted firmly on your hips.

“Harry,” you bite down onto his earlobe. “Harry,” you kiss just beneath his ear. Tilting his head to your will, every which way leaving your featherlight kisses along his throat, up and down the surface, whispering his name before every kiss. His breathing feels labored under your touch; his skin ablaze.

“Birdie,” he groans.

“Hm?” You hum, going back to kissing along his throat.

“As much as I would love for this to continue, we’re at your apartment.”

That damn saying again.

“Come upstairs with me,” you kiss his lips.

“I have a meeting first thing in the morning, otherwise I would,” he kisses you back. “How about you come to mine? Spend the night?”

“What are we gonna do?” you ask with the most innocent looking eyes you can manage.

“What do you think?” he teases, chasing your lips with his.

“Can I meet you there? So can I go to Encore in the morning?”

“Of course. I’ll leave Mitch here with you,” Harry reaches for his phone.

“No need. I’ll be right behind you once I change. Promise,” you kiss the tip of his nose, climbing off of his lap.

Harry exits the car, rounding to your side and opens your door for you. Helping you from the car, the man before you kisses you passionately, pulling your front against his, leaning into your touch.

“Harry,” you whisper, pulling away from him.

“Fuck, Biridie. Don’t you see what you do to me?”

“Mm, I could feel it too, big guy.” you tease him, smoothing down the front of your dress. “I’ll meet you at your place.”

“Okay,” he smiles down at you, offering you one more goodbye kiss.

“Keep my seat warm,” you wink at him before disappearing up the stairs of your apartment building.

Harry’s trip home felt longer without you. He was counting down the minutes until he got to touch you again. Waiting for the moment you walked through the door to devour you.

“Sir, we have some..news.” Mitch’s voice makes Harry turn towards the entrance of the living room.

“What is it, Mitch? Has Y/N arrived?” he asks, standing from his seat.

“No, sir, it’s about Encore,” the double bunned man says flatly.

“What about Encore? Was there a break in?”

“No, Sir. it’s on fire.”

“What do you–where is Y/N?” Harry asks, panicked.

“We–We can’t locate her, sir.”

taglist: @freedomfireflies @harrysonlylover @daydreamingofmatilda @triski73 @evie-119

@vamprry @howling-wolf97 @angeldavis777

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry Edward styles #harry Edward style #harry fluff #harry smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry #styles

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kayesfanfics · 1 day

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Hi can I request a femreader/ nightcrawler story where the reader is shy and anxious, while Kurt misunderstands this as her thinking he’s a monster?

But in truth she’s been trying to confess her feelings to him but she always backs out last minute in fear?

Thank you!

A/N: The way I’ve probably imagined this scenario at 12 years old laying in bed at night. I also made the reader friends with Rogue, Jean and Ororo since she’s closer to their ages

“Sugah, yer lookin’ more nervous than a long-tailed pussy cat in a room full o’ rockin’ chairs!” Rogue tapped your shoulder as she walked into the lounging area, where you were having morning coffee with Jean and Ororo. “What’s gotcha all riled up, huh?”

“Kurt’s playing basketball with the others outside...in shorts.” Jean quipped before taking a sip of coffee, a playful grin on her face. Ororo chuckled at the embarrassed face you made, as if someone just walked in on you changing.

“Jean!” You whined, face turning redder when Rogue started laughing.

“Oh, Y/N! We’re just teasing!” Jean giggled as you pouted at all of them finding your embarrassment amusing.

“I just don’t see why you haven’t told him about her feelings yet!”

They all knew you’ve had the biggest crush on the fuzzy blue X-Man, Nightcrawler, ever since he joined the team a few months ago. He was always so nice to everyone, including you, and he seemed to always say the right thing at the right time. He even made your morning coffee sometimes when you got up late, knowing everyone’s coffee order by heart by now.

The boys were outside playing basketball with Jubilee and Roberto, showing the younger ones how it was done. You watched out the window at the court, seeing Gambit and Wolverine battling for the ball before Kurt teleported between them and snatched the ball from them, tossing it into the basket and laughing when they both started yelling about the “no powers” rule. You smiled before realizing you were staring, clearing your throat and turning to Rogue.

“You know I get too nervous around your brother, I can’t even ask him to pass the salt at dinner!”

“Yer always nervous, that’s fine! But y’know, he totally likes you too. I can tell.”

“No he doesn’t.” You shook your head in denial.

“Yes he does.” All three women said at the same time, side eyeing you or rolling their eyes.

“My dear, Kurt is a very charismatic man, but he goes out of his way to make you smile every chance he gets.” Ororo set her hand atop of yours. “I even see a flash of disappointment when you flee from his advances.”

“Really?” You asked, feeling a bit guilty about making him feel bad. You were a generally nervous person, but your anxiety sky rocketed around him, your heart always felt like it would explode out of your chest when he got close to you or touched you. It was difficult to hold eye contact with him, your nerves getting the best of you and looking down at the floor while you spoke to him. You’d give him a scared smile when he handed you things, your blood running cold when his hand brushed up against yours during those exchanges. You often found your eyes wandering to him when he wasn’t focused on you, it was easier to look at him when you knew he wasn’t aware of you checking him out. You loved the way his tail squashed playfully as he joked around with Morph, how his ear would twitch like a cats when he heard someone new enter the room, how his fangs gleamed when he smiled or how his bright yellow eyes sparked with mischief during a fight.

“Okay…you know what? Todays the day, today I need to confess to him! If I don’t today, I never will cause I’m a baby and will back out.” You stood up confidently.

“Yeah! Go get em, tiger!” Rogue cheered as you walked away, then lowered her voice. “She ain’t gonna.”

“I think Y/N can do things she sets her mind to.” Storm defended you.

“Wanna put ten bucks on it?” Rogue raised an eyebrow and cheekily grinned.

“…you’re on.” Storm nodded, shaking her hand as Jean spoke up, saying she’d bet alongside Storm that you could do it.

“You know I can still hear you all?” You crossed your arms from the window, getting a closer look and watching Kurt dodge Roberto’s lunge. Your friends all laughed as you shook your head, trying to get ahold of your nerves.

How were you supposed to tell the most handsome, heroic, sweetest, most amazing person ever you were in love with them? Kurt was genuinely the kindest person you’d ever met, giving you butterflies when you watched him comfort a mutant child during a fight, or how he helped his teammates so gently when they were injured. You couldn’t fathom how people were afraid or disgusted by him, he was the most gorgeous man in the world. How you could see a tinge of indigo under his blue fur when he blushed or bruised, how sculpted and chiseled he was yet also was so soft to look at. When he wore sweatpants and a tank top after training one day, you swore you would have a heart attack right then and there seeing how attractive he looked in the outfit. You adored sneaking peeks of him working out alone, his muscles bulging when he did push ups or pull ups on a bar, how flexible and agile he was and how effortless he made it look. You’d stand outside the door until you felt you would get caught staring, not wanting to seem like a creep.

You were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts when the door opened, Wolverine carrying Jubilee, pretending to be limp and passed out in his arms.

“What happened?” Jean asked as the girls all stood up from their little coffee and gossip session.

“She tripped and scraped her knee trying to get the ball from Logan!” Morph snickered as they all filed inside.

“I’ve been attacked! He pushed me and now I’m severely wounded!” Jubilee whined dramatically as Logan set her down on the counter. You waited for Kurt while you listened to Jubilee and Wolverine bicker about the seriousness of her cut knee, feeling your heart skip a beat when he finally walked in, chatting with Hank.

“Um…hey, Kurt?” You spoke quietly, but Kurt’s ear twitched and picked up your shy voice.

“Yes, Miss Y/N?” He asked, stopping and letting Hank go ahead of him.

“I…um…could you find a first aid kit, please?”

You blushed when you heard your friends laugh behind you and Storm and Jean handed Rogue money, knowing Kurt was looking past you at them, wondering what they were doing. You felt like a dork backing out of confessing and asking him to do something you could easily do, but you changed your mind at the last second that you weren’t ready yet.

“Sure.” He smiled, before bamfing off. You turned and glared at your friends, before walking walked over to Jubilee, seeing blood dripping down her shin and gravel from the court embedded inside of it.

“Ouch, let me clean that for you.” You said and wet a paper towel, ignoring Logan saying how she was fine and it was part of growing up and being a kid. You kneeled down and patted down Jubilee’s injury, soaking up the blood and wiping out any gravel from the wound.

“Here you are, Y/N.” You heard a familiar sweet, velvety voice beside you. You looked over and saw Nightcrawler holding out a first aid kit from the nearest bathroom, a charming grin on his face.

“Oh, um, thank you Kurt.” You smiled at him shyly, before quickly turning your attention to Jubilee. You didn’t see the look of rejection in his yellow eyes as the irritated twitch of his tail at that, before he sighed and bamfed off again.

*a couple hours later*

“Mein Gott!” The mutant shouted in surprise, also not paying attention to where he was going before tumbling backwards at the collision. You were on your way to training, focusing on wrapping up your hands to look where you were going. Now, you knocked down the last person you wanted to. You felt bad seeing the gorgeous man on the floor because of you.

“Kurt! I’m so sorry! Here, let me help!” You held a hand out to him, but he got up himself.

“It is fine.” He said simply before walking past you, then suddenly pausing and turning to you. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure.” You fidgeted with your hands nervously, anxious for the question.

“Do you…have I offended you in some way?” He asked, his eyes flashing with a bit of sadness.

“What? No? Why would you think that?” You asked, worried your timid behavior had finally kicked you in the ass.

“You tend to just brush me off, I’ve noticed. Lately you don’t really look at me, you respond with few words to me. I just thought…maybe I did something to scare you? Disgust you? Perhaps I…you think I’m a monster?”

You stared at him in the hallway, shock freezing your thoughts for a moment. How could he ever think your awkwardness around him could be because you thought he was disgusting? That he thought you found him frightening? You hadn’t realized how not making eye contact or responding curtly would come across to him, a man who’s been persecuted and attacked his whole life for how he looked. He was the most admirable, amazing person you’d ever met and you made him feel like a monster.

“Kurt, no! Not at all! I just…I do like you, I do! You just…make me very nervous. More so than I usually am…”

“How? Do I intimidate you?” He tilted his head in confusion. “I do not mean to-“

“It’s not that, really. I uh…I just really admire you, I guess. You make me more nervous than the others because…because I really like you…a lot.” You looked down at the floor, shyly looking up into his eyes. His face relaxed when he finally understood what you meant.

“Oh…I apologize for thinking so little of your actions. You are understanding and non judge mental, I should never have assumed what I did about you. How about I take you out to apologize for my ignorance?” He flashed his fangs at you in a charming smile, slowly approaching you before he was close enough to hold out a hand to you.

“I-I…okay.” You took his hand and sheepishly smiled up at him, allowing him to guide you down the hall. “I’m really sorry I made you feel like I-“

“No apology necessary, Y/N, really. I’m just glad we’ve come to…an understanding.” He grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. You blushed and giggled at the action

#x men 97 #xmen x reader #nightcrawler #kurt wagner #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader

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laneywrld · 2 days

Text

alienated | Lewis Hamilton

one shot

word count: 8.6k

warnings: angst

you've been on that spaceship all alone.

You and Lewis had been separated for three months, which, if you think about is very long when you compare it to the amount of time you spent apart when you were together.

For four years, you and Lewis were inseparable, never spending more than a week apart. But that was then, and this is now, with three months of separation stretching out before you.

The two of you separated for one straightforward reason: You were the only person present in the relationship. Between his silence and your overthinking, it became a mess in the end.

Leaving Lewis was a heart-wrenching decision. The man you once believed would be your future husband, the man you were once engaged to, was now a distant memory.

As you reflect on the past, you realize how much you had been neglected. This realization strengthens your resolve and affirms your decision to leave, reminding you of your worth.

You weren’t sure if Lewis loved you. He didn't communicate with you, show you any affection, or pay you any attention. He didn't put time aside for you. It was hell being in a one-sided relationship.

It began to be exhausting putting in all the effort and trying to get him to see you because lately, you hadn't felt that.

It was a painful realization. Lewis, the man you loved, was slowly but surely draining you. His presence no longer brought you joy or adoration; it made you miserable. You felt like a ghost, unseen and unappreciated.

But even then, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He'd had a hard season, was constantly stressed, and life wasn't going as planned. So, one more try: you would halt your efforts for one week while he was away in Miami.

It was a test, really, to see if he was still putting in the effort, a plan meant to expose whether he even thought about you or remotely cared. If he could go a week without you in any form, he didn't deserve you or appreciate you. That would be obvious. Or he would notice, and he'd get his act together. But a part of you lacked faith in the latter option. In the end, his actions would give you an answer to the question you've had for a while.

Would you want to stay with someone like that? Someone who's okay without you or, worse, doesn’t even notice your change?

May fifth, the day of the race, would mark your fourth anniversary, and while he would be away, you were still curious to see what he had planned or if he remembered at all.

Lewis left on Wednesday. It wasn't like your old send-offs. There were no passionate moments in bed, him leaving you something to remember him by or even your classic bye-bye brunches. He rolled his bags from your shared home while you were still deep in your slumber.

You awoke to an empty, cold house.

You spent that day alone, with Roscoe, of course. Spending the next two days cuddled up to your fur baby and taking him on exciting new adventures. You nearly slipped up and sent Lewis many pictures and videos of you and Roscoe plenty of times, only to remember your end goal and lock your phone with a sigh.

When Friday came around, and Lewis still hadn't so much as sent you a single text, you had an inkling of what you'd have to do come Sunday.

It was almost as if Roscoe could sense your turmoil; in return, he was extra clingy. He followed you everywhere, lying at your feet on the couch, snuggled into your side in bed, and even sitting patiently at your feet as you sat on the toilet. You could only sigh as you revel in the time you had with him. He was your good boy, your first child. The thought of missing him was nearly enough for you to call off your intentions, but then your therapist's words rang through your mind like a harsh reminder.

"Sometimes, you have to sacrifice your relationship with another for the sake of one; I know it might be hard to think about losing your friends and your little guy if you do find it's time to leave him, but in the end, your job is to save yourself. Never feel guilty for thinking of yourself for once. You'll always love them, yeah? He'll remember how much you loved him, and you'll miss him; he'll miss you. But how long can you survive in that relationship?"

You remember spending that entire session crying over how much you'd miss Roscoe as you contemplated the cons of leaving your relationship.

In the end, your job is to save yourself.

On Saturday, you stayed awake even when your eyes begged you to close them. You kept your phone tucked beside you, and your eyes dropped as the clock hit twelve.

Every year before that, Lewis celebrated your love immediately. For three hours, you waited for something as simple as a text or a post—something to acknowledge you. After a while, your exhaustion won, and you succumbed to your tiredness.

You tried not to get your hopes up when you awoke in the morning, your anniversary day. You felt like an idiot as you turned over your phone, and there was nothing from Lewis. Your expectations were still very much high, which is why you scrambled from the bed and rushed to the front door. Your intent to see if there were any florals delivered to your doorstep proved pointless as you swung open the door, and the only delivery had been your Amazon package.

With a disappointing sigh, you snatched it from the porch and called for Roscoe. You slipped on your Birkenstocks, leading him outside to relieve himself. You sat on the patio, bonnet on and nightgown pooling around you as you watched Roscoe run around in the yard.

It was becoming real then.

You stayed outside for an hour, playing around with Roscoe, chasing him, him chasing you, and even tossing his ball until you decided it was time to take action.

You hauled Roscoe into the home, giving him fresh water and food as you connected to the speaker and blasted your music.

Your impending decision wasn't so much impending anymore. You knew what you needed to do; sooner was better than later.

It was one in the afternoon, and if he hadn't shown any signs of acknowledgment at that time, you knew it wouldn't come.

A small portion of you wanted to cry, burst into tears, and scream because of how hurt you were. But the dominant part of you was just angry. Lewis would learn his lesson; he'd miss you, and you'd make sure he felt it.

You wanted him to miss you like you missed him. He'd find himself craving your random calls and appreciating your silly texts. He'd crave your warm embrace again, and he'd want to die without your unique smile and your loving eyes.

He'd want everything he had taken for granted because that is precisely what he had done. He made you feel alone, even when he was there. You were the shadow lurking in your home — the distant body in your shared bed.

You deserved someone who always told you he loved you, always hugged you, and never left without a kiss. You deserve a man who talks to you about everything, who cares about how your day went and how you feel. You shouldn't give everything and get nothing; you don't deserve that.

You've been nothing but superb to him. You always showed up for him when it mattered, embraced him when he was down or even when he was happy, cooked meals for him when he was home and made every dinner special for him. You asked him about his day every day, and you listened.

Lewis couldn't say the same, and he wouldn't be able to. And that was the straw on the camel's back. You refused to give that level of love to a man who wouldn't reciprocate it. You didn't care how much you loved him; that was a level of disrespect and negligence you weren't willing to tolerate.

You weren't raised to accept the bare minimum, which was precisely what he gave you.

That was your moment of realization as you packed your bags. Lewis was due back Tuesday night, so you had the remainder of Sunday and Monday to gather your belongings and make your furtive exit.

Lewis made P7; you knew this because as you separated your belongings from his, you had the race streaming on the TV mounted in your room.

On Twitter, you saw him later that night out partying, and that only angered you for approximately ten minutes before you were only feeling disappointed in the man. You'd never been good at the art of detachment until then.

Suddenly, you weren't angry or furious with Lewis anymore; you felt content with your decision as you zipped up your last suitcase and taped up the last of your boxes.

As night fell and night arrived, you lay in your shared bed for the last time, Roscoe's head on your tummy as he snored. Your hand caressed his head in gentle rubs, and you sigh.

When the clock hits twelve and your anniversary officially passes, you feel like an idiot for even having faith in the man.

First thing in the morning, the driveway was filled with moving trucks and workers. You sat patiently on the couch as you waited for Anthony to arrive. When the sun begins to set, and the loading is done, you see headlights beam through the windows.

The door opens and closes softly, and there they stand, Anthony and Nicholas with glum faces.

"Are you sure, love?" Anthony whispers as he approaches you. He looks so distressed that you can only nod back at him. He sits beside you, taking one of your hands in his.

"As long as you are sure." And you break down into a fit of tears as Lewis' father comforts you, even as you leave his son. Nicholas takes the spot beside you, his hand rubbing your shoulder to comfort you.

"You gave him time and chances," Anthony hums, his free hand rubbing circles on your back. "I love my son, and I love you just as much; we will always love you."

Nicholas hums in agreement. "Still going to be our family."

You know you must leave before you allow your love for his family to deter you. So you take one last shaky breath, standing to your feet, where Roscoe waits patiently. You squat down, tears falling from your eyes and soaking into his fur.

"I love you, buddy. So much, you're my good boy." You whisper, kissing his head over and over.

You stand again, looking at Anthony and Nicholas one last time and pulling them into separate hugs. "Thank you." You whisper out and pass the keys over and instructions on properly caring for Roscoe, even if they will only have him for less than a day.

"I'll be waiting to talk to you again," Anthony announces, and you nod.

"Don't tell him?" you request. I've left him a letter upstairs; I'd like him to find out on my terms.

They nod, and you trek through the house and out of the front doors to what used to be the home you planned on spending the rest of your life in.

As you close the door, you hear Roscoe's incessant whines and scratches against it, and you sob all over again as you continue your journey to your car.

In the end, your job is to save yourself.

You weren't selfish for choosing yourself, especially over a person whose life you're choosing to walk out of because you didn't feel as if you belonged in it anymore. You didn't belong in that house anymore, in that relationship. You didn't belong with Lewis. It was a harsh and painful reality. But change is unbearable, and from change comes growth. And that growth can also be painful. But nothing would ever compare to the pain of staying stuck somewhere you don't belong. Nothing would ever hurt you more than loving a man more than he loved you.

You always preached about "when you know, you know." You've always felt it, that gut feeling that it was time for something new. You were great at knowing when to move on and let go and acknowledging when those shifts needed to be addressed. You loved to say out with the old and in with the new. The point is that you never struggled with trusting the process of life until life told you that you weren't meant for Lewis.

This was the first time that you doubted the imminent change. This change meant that you were fleeing from your love. As you backed out of the driveway, your vision blurred by burning tears; you could only cry as you mourned the love you once had. But this was all for a greater purpose, the purpose of you finding joy in life again because you sure have felt drained of it.

Tuesday came and went, and as night fell, Lewis pulled into the driveway. Given the closed four-car garage, he did not find it suspicious that your car was missing. He grunted as he pulled his suitcase from the trunk and eased up the steps and into his foyer.

He isn't immediately greeted by Roscoe or your arms wrapping around him, and he squints when he sees how dark and cold it is inside the home.

That put him on edge.

You always liked a warm glow emitting through the home, so a dim lamp was always on to illuminate the open floor plan. At night, you liked the home to be slightly warm, like a spring breeze, yet there was an icy chill running through it.

He calls out your name as he settles his bags by the door. He even calls Roscoe, and when he hears nothing, he sets a fast pace up the stairs.

"Babe!"

No response.

When Lewis reaches the second level, he immediately heads to your guys' room. When he hits the light switch, he suddenly becomes aware of how cold and barren the room looks and feels.

You're not snuggled into the middle of the bed like he usually finds you; his pillow isn't locked in your arms and held to your chest. You're not there.

Your small trinkets are no longer scattered around the room, and he rushes to the closet; none of your belongings are there. Lewis feels his heart rate accelerate as fear creeps into his body.

He turns to face the bed again, and when he sees your nightstand, he rushes over; your ring sits in the same velvet box he proposed to you with, and a piece of paper is lying underneath it. He snatches them both up, his mind reeling, and suddenly, he feels like he could throw up.

I've made a decision that was hard for me in the beginning and became clearer as the days went on. I've gotten comfortable with the bare minimum. It's been my normal for a while. I'm choosing to evolve, grow, and learn to accept what I deserve. It'd be more challenging for me to stay with you than it would be for me to leave you. I've realized that. I couldn't handle it anymore. It was the same routine; you never noticed me or acknowledged me. I've tried to address this issue, and it's done nothing; you've done nothing but give me baseless promises. I can no longer stick around for a relationship where I've been the only one present. No matter how much I love you. And I really did love you, with everything in me. I should’ve never allowed myself to get comfortable with how you neglected and fell out of love with me. I've chosen you repeatedly, but this time, I must choose me; I have to, Lewis. Happy anniversary.

Your dad has Roscoe.

Lewis squeezes his eyes shut and clutches his chest with a firm grip. His body quivers as he slumps onto the ground, his back against the bed frame. Lewis wasn't new to panic attacks, especially with all of the stress he took on from his job. But this was his first time having to suffer through one without you.

The world seemed to close in on Lewis, a suffocating weight pressing down on his chest as his heart raced uncontrollably. His breath came in short, shallow gasps, each inhalation a struggle against the invisible hands that seemed to be squeezing the air from his lungs.

His vision blurred, the edges of his sight becoming hazy and indistinct as panic tightened its grip. Thoughts raced through his mind like a whirlwind, a cacophony of fears and anxieties swirling around him, threatening to engulf him in their dark embrace.

Desperately, he tried to ground himself, to find some semblance of stability amidst the chaos. He focused on his breath, trying to slow the frantic rhythm of his heart. But each attempt felt like grasping at smoke, his efforts slipping through his fingers like sand.

His body trembled with the intensity of his panic, a cold sweat breaking out across his skin as waves of nausea washed over him. It was as if he were trapped in a nightmare from which there was no escape, a relentless onslaught of terror that threatened to consume him whole.

And yet, somewhere deep within him, a flicker of resilience remained. Despite the overwhelming darkness that threatened to engulf him, he clung to the hope that this too shall pass, that he would emerge from the storm-battered but unbowed. But this hope came to him as visions of you.

In the midst of the chaos swirling around him, Lewis found himself grasping desperately for something, anything, to anchor him to reality. And amidst the turmoil, your memories came flooding back like a beacon of light cutting through the darkness.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be enveloped by the warmth of those memories. The sound of your laughter echoed in his mind, a melody that calmed the frantic rhythm of his heart. He remembered the way your smile could light up even the darkest of days, the way your touch could banish the shadows of doubt and fear.

With each breath, he summoned forth another memory, another moment shared between you two. The way you would lose yourselves in the conversation for hours on end, the way you would always know just what to say to ease his troubled mind.

It was as if you were there with him, a comforting presence in the midst of the storm. And with each memory, each recollection of your time together, the panic began to recede, like a tide slowly ebbing away from the shore.

In those moments, surrounded by the echoes of your love, Lewis found the strength to carry on and learn to breathe again. Though you were no longer by his side, your memory was a lifeline, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, love endures. And with that realization, he took a deep breath, the weight of the world lifting ever so slightly from his shoulders as he found solace in the embrace of their shared past.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the tide began to recede. His breaths grew steadier, the racing of his heart gradually slowing to a more manageable pace. The world around him began to regain its focus, the blurred edges sharpening into clarity once more.

As Lewis rereads your letter, a torrent of emotions overwhelms him, but solace is elusive. Instead, a heavyweight settles in his chest, burdened with the weight of misery and guilt.

Your words, filled with love and longing, only serve to magnify his pain. With each sentence, the guilt gnaws at him, a relentless voice whispering accusations in his ear. He replays the moments leading up to your departure, dissecting his actions and words, searching for where he went wrong.

The memories of your time together, once a source of comfort, now feel like daggers piercing his heart. Each moment of happiness is tainted by the knowledge of your absence, a constant reminder of his failure to hold onto what he cherished most.

As tears blur his vision, Lewis finds himself consumed by remorse. He wishes he could turn back time, rewrite the script, and undo the mistakes that led to this moment. But the past is immutable, and he is left to grapple with the consequences of his actions.

In the depths of his misery, Lewis feels utterly alone, adrift in a sea of regret and self-recrimination. He longs for a reprieve from the agony that threatens to consume him, but it remains elusive, just out of reach.

And yet, amidst the darkness, a flicker of hope remains. Deep down, Lewis knows that redemption is possible and that forgiveness can be found even in the darkest of times. But for now, he must navigate the storm of his emotions, clinging to the hope that one day, he will find peace once more. That you loved him enough to give him one more chance.

In the quiet moments of the day, when the hustle and bustle of life subsides, you find yourself grappling with a sense of emptiness that lingers despite your efforts to embrace change. Three months have passed since you made the difficult decision to leave Lewis behind, and while you've tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, a part of you still aches for what was lost.

Life has moved on, as it always does, and you've thrown yourself into new experiences and opportunities, hoping to fill the void left by Lewis' absence. But no matter how hard you try, there's a lingering sense of incompleteness that tugs at your heartstrings, a yearning for the familiarity and comfort of what once was.

In the midst of laughter and celebration, there are moments when you find yourself lost in thought, your mind wandering back to the memories you shared with Lewis. The sound of his laughter, the warmth of his embrace – they haunt you like ghosts, reminders of a love that once burned bright but has since faded into the recesses of memory.

You've tried to convince yourself that you've moved on, that you're better off without him, but deep down, you know the truth. Life may be different now, but it's not necessarily better. There's a void within you that no amount of change or distraction can fill, a longing for something – or someone – that you can't quite shake.

And so, as you navigate the complexities of life without Lewis by your side, you're left to confront the uncomfortable truth that sometimes, embracing change isn't enough to heal the wounds of the past. Despite your best efforts to move forward, a part of you will always be tethered to the love you left behind.

In the wake of leaving Lewis and embarking on a new chapter of life, there's a profound sense of loss that lingers within you. While you navigate the complexities of change and try to come to terms with the absence of Lewis, there's another absence that weighs heavily on your heart – the absence of your beloved canine companion, Roscoe.

Roscoe was more than just a pet; he was a faithful friend, a source of unconditional love and companionship through the highs and lows of life. His wagging behind and eager eyes greeted you each day, offering comfort and solace in moments of joy and sorrow alike.

In the quiet moments when the world slows down, and the noise fades away, you find yourself missing Roscoe more than ever. The memory of his warm presence, the feel of his fur beneath your fingertips, it all comes flooding back with a bittersweet intensity that catches you off guard.

You long to hear the sound of his paws padding across the floor, to feel the weight of his body nestled against yours as you curl up on the couch together. The emptiness left by his absence is palpable, a silent reminder of the void that he once filled in your life.

And yet, despite the pain of separation, there's a deep sense of gratitude for the time you shared with Roscoe. The memories you created together are a testament to the bond you shared, a bond that transcends time and distance.

As you navigate the complexities of life without Lewis by your side, you find yourself missing your tiny makeshift family, his family included.

Losing Lewis also meant losing the connection you had with his family, a connection that had become a source of warmth and acceptance in your life, especially given the complexities of your own family dynamics.

Growing up, your relationship with your family had always been strained, marked by misunderstandings and distance. But with Lewis' family, you found a sense of belonging that had eluded you for so long. Their laughter filled the air with joy, a stark contrast to the somber silence that often hung over your own family gatherings.

They embraced you as one of their own, welcoming you into their home and their hearts. Losing them in the separation felt like losing a piece of yourself, a painful reminder of the fragility of the connections we forge in life.

In the quiet moments when the ache of separation threatened to overwhelm you, you found yourself yearning for the familiar comforts of their presence. Their voices, their hugs – they were precious memories that you held onto tightly, like fragile treasures in the depths of your soul.

As you navigated the aftermath of the separation, you couldn't help but mourn the loss of not only Lewis but also his family. Their absence left a void in your heart, a sense of loss that weighed heavily on your spirit.

Leaving Lewis meant that you lost everything.

As you reflect on your decision to leave Lewis, the memories of his distance weigh heavily on your heart. It felt like you were carrying the weight of the relationship alone, like a lone traveler traversing a vast expanse of loneliness.

The moments of connection that once filled your days together had become increasingly rare, replaced by silence and a growing sense of isolation. It seemed as though you were the only one putting in the effort to keep the relationship alive while Lewis drifted further and further away, lost in his own thoughts and concerns.

You longed for the closeness and intimacy that had once defined your relationship, but it felt like an impossible dream, a mirage shimmering on the horizon, always just out of reach. No matter how hard you tried to bridge the gap between you, it seemed to widen with each passing day until it felt like you were living in two separate worlds.

In the end, you made the difficult decision to walk away, not because you stopped loving Lewis but because you couldn't bear the loneliness of being the only one fighting for the relationship. It was a choice born out of self-preservation, a refusal to sacrifice your own happiness and well-being for the sake of a love that had long since grown cold.

And now, as you navigate the aftermath of the separation, you can't help but wonder if things could have been different if there was anything you could have done to save what was lost. But deep down, you know that sometimes, letting go is the only way to find the happiness and fulfillment you deserve. So you go about your day, cozied up on the couch in your cozy apartment, still missing Lewis but very much understanding of your decision.

As Lewis sits alone in his room, his phone is clutched tightly in his hand, and he can't shake the feeling of desperation that washes over him. He's tried everything – calling, texting, even reaching out through social media – but all his attempts to contact you have been met with silence.

Each unanswered call and unanswered message feels like a dagger to his heart, a painful reminder of your absence and the uncertainty that now looms over his life. He wonders what he could have done differently to prevent this rift from forming between you.

His mind races with questions, each one more torturous than the last. Was there someone else, or was it simply a case of drifting apart, with two souls heading in different directions? He refused to believe that because he loved you more than life, he still does.

The lack of closure gnaws at him, a relentless ache that refuses to be quelled. He longs to hear your voice, to see your face, to have just a moment of connection with you again. But no matter how hard he tries, you remain elusive, like a ghost slipping through his fingers.

In the depths of his despair, Lewis clings to the hope that someday, somehow, he'll find a way to reach you, to break through the walls that separate you and bridge the chasm that now divides your lives.

As you step out for your first date since leaving Lewis, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbles within you. It feels like a tentative step forward, a chance to explore new possibilities and rediscover a sense of joy and companionship. Chris seemed nice, and he was attentive to you, something you hadn’t felt in a while.

But as you arrive at the restaurant, the atmosphere suddenly shifts, a sense of unease settling over you like a heavy cloak. The flash of cameras blinds you momentarily as paparazzi swarm around, their lenses trained on you like predators stalking their prey.

Caught off guard, you freeze in place, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggle to comprehend what's happening. How did they find you? And more importantly, how will Lewis react when he sees the headlines splashed across the tabloids?

The date itself fades into the background as you're engulfed by a whirlwind of anxiety and fear. Thoughts race through your mind, each one more terrifying than the last. Will Lewis think you've moved on too quickly? Will he feel betrayed by your decision to start dating again?

As the paparazzi continue to snap away, you feel exposed, vulnerable, as if your every move is being scrutinized and judged by the world at large. It's a stark reminder of the price of fame, the invasive nature of public scrutiny that leaves you feeling like a prisoner in your own life.

But still, your biggest concern was how Lewis would handle it.

He wasn't okay.

As Lewis catches wind of your date through the relentless paparazzi coverage, a storm of emotions rages within him. Jealousy, misery, and anger collide in a tumultuous whirlwind, threatening to engulf him in their tempestuous embrace.

The thought of you with another man fills him with a sense of unbearable longing and regret. He's missed you, more than he ever thought possible, and the idea of you moving on without him cuts him to the core. How could you be okay living without him, when every moment without you feels like a lifetime of emptiness?

In his mind, he replays the memories of your time together, each one a painful reminder of what he's lost. He wonders if he could have done things differently or if he could have been the partner you needed him to be. But now, it feels like too little, too late, as he watches helplessly from the sidelines as you move on with your life.

The bitterness of jealousy twists in his gut, fueling his anger and resentment. He wants to lash out, scream, and shout and make you understand the depth of his pain. But beneath the anger lies a deeper sadness, a profound sense of loss that threatens to consume him whole.

As Lewis grapples with his conflicting emotions, he's left to confront the harsh reality of your absence and the painful realization that he may have lost you forever. But he refuses to give up on you.

As Lewis observes the subtle ways you've been avoiding him, a mix of frustration and longing wells up within him. It's become increasingly clear that you're actively steering clear of any situation where you might cross paths, and while part of him understands, another part can't help but feel hurt by your apparent avoidance.

He's noticed your absence at mutual friend gatherings, the empty space where you used to stand, and it feels like a painful reminder of the void left by your departure. Each missed opportunity to reconnect only serves to deepen his sense of loss, leaving him to wonder if you'll ever be willing to face him again.

But amidst the disappointment, there's a glimmer of hope – your unwavering commitment to attending his brother's birthday celebration. It's a small gesture, but one that speaks volumes to Lewis. Despite the distance between you, despite the pain of separation, you're still willing to show up for his family, to be there for them in their moments of celebration.

In that realization, Lewis finds a sense of solace, a reminder that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for reconciliation. He knows that healing takes time and that wounds need time to mend, but seeing you make an effort to be there for his family gives him hope that maybe, someday, you'll find a way to bridge the gap between you and find your way back to each other.

"She's going to be here?"

Nicholas nods cautiously, "Yeah, but Lewis, you have to let her be, okay?"

"What are you talking about? She's my fiance?"

"But she's not." Nicholas interrupts.

"And she hasn't been for half a year."

The words dawn on Lewis, and they make his heartache in a festering way, yet he can't help but feel comfort in knowing that for the first time, he'd be able to see you again, face to face.

As you step into Nicholas' birthday party, a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, a tangible manifestation of the nervousness that courses through your veins. You know Lewis will be there, and the thought of facing him again fills you with a sense of apprehension and uncertainty.

Your heart races as you scan the crowded room, searching for any sign of him. Each familiar face you encounter sends a jolt of anxiety coursing through you, and you can't help but feel a pang of guilt for the way you've been avoiding him.

Determined to keep your distance, you slip through the crowd like a ghost, carefully avoiding any areas where you suspect Lewis might be lurking. You plaster on a smile and engage in polite conversation with the other partygoers, but your mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of the man you're desperately trying to avoid.

As the night wears on, the tension in the air becomes palpable, a silent undercurrent that threatens to pull you under. You steal furtive glances around the room, half-hoping to catch sight of Lewis and half-dreading the inevitable confrontation that awaits.

But as the hours pass and the party begins to wind down, you realize with a sense of relief that you've managed to make it through most of the evening without crossing paths with him.

The knot in your stomach loosens ever so slightly, and you allow yourself to breathe a small sigh of relief.

That is, until you see him.

As Lewis scans the room, his gaze inevitably falls upon you, blending seamlessly into the crowd. There's a longing in his eyes as he watches you from afar, a silent ache that tugs at his heartstrings with each passing moment.

He can't help but notice the way you move with a grace that belies the nervousness he knows must be churning within you. Despite your attempts to blend in, there's an undeniable magnetism about you that draws his gaze like a moth to a flame.

Memories of your time together flood his mind, a montage of moments both joyous and bittersweet. He recalls the way your laughter filled the room, the warmth of your smile, and the way your eyes sparkled with mischief when you were up to no good.

But beneath the surface, there's a sense of sadness, a yearning for the connection that once bound them together. He longs to reach out to you, to bridge the gap that now separates you, but he knows that now is not the time nor the place.

With a heavy heart, Lewis watches from a distance, his eyes lingering on you like a silent prayer. He knows that healing takes time, that wounds need time to mend, but deep down, he can't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, there's still a chance for reconciliation, an opportunity to find your way back to each other once more.

As your eyes lock with Lewis's across the pulsating dance floor, a surge of panic propels you into action. Without a second thought, you pivot on your heel and dart through the crowd, your heart hammering in your chest like a wild drumbeat.

Every fiber of your being screams for escape as you push your way toward the exit, the urgency of your flight drowning out the thumping bass of the music. But even amidst the chaos, you can feel Lewis's gaze burning into your back, his presence a heavy weight that follows you like a shadow.

With each step, your pace quickens, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you try to put as much distance as possible between yourself and the man you once loved. But no matter how fast you run, you can't outrun the memories that haunt you or the longing that lingers in your heart.

And then, just as you reach the sanctuary of the exit, you feel a hand grasp your arm, pulling you to a sudden stop. You turn to face Lewis, his eyes searching yours with a desperate intensity that leaves you reeling.

In that moment, you're paralyzed, caught between the urge to flee and the desire to confront the emotions that swirl between you. But before you can make a decision, Lewis's voice breaks through the chaos, a whisper of longing that sends a shiver down your spine.

With a sense of inevitability, you realize that there's no escaping the truth – no matter how hard you try to run, the bond between you and Lewis refuses to be broken. And as he reaches out to you, his desperation palpable, you know that you can't ignore the pull of fate any longer.

"Baby, please, let me talk to you."

As you finally turn to face Lewis, the sight of him stops you dead in your tracks. His eyes, usually so full of life and vitality, now seem dulled with a sorrow that cuts you to the core. They glisten with unshed tears, twinkling in the dim light of the club, and his fluttery eyelashes betray the vulnerability that lies beneath his stoic exterior.

At that moment, he looks like a kicked puppy, abandoned and alone, and you can't help but feel a pang of guilt for the pain you've caused him. His expression is a silent plea for understanding, for forgiveness, and it tugs at your heartstrings with a force you can't ignore.

Despite your best efforts to steel yourself against his gaze, you find yourself crumbling under the weight of his sorrow. The walls you've built around your heart begin to crumble, and all you can see is the hurt reflected in his eyes.

With a heavy sigh, you reach out to him, your fingers trembling as they brush against his cheek. In that moment, you realize that you can't bear to see him hurting like this, that despite the pain of the past, your love for him still lingers like a ghost, refusing to be silenced.

You turn, allowing his grip on your arm to remain as you continue out the door. You are in a dark alley, he's still looking at you with that same miserable pout lodged onto his face.

"You left me," He whispers.

As Lewis's voice trembles with emotion, his words pierce through the barrier you've erected around your heart. The sincerity in his apology is palpable, each syllable weighted with the regret of past mistakes. You can't help but feel a tug at your own heartstrings, a flicker of empathy for the pain he's endured.

"And I don't blame you, I was shit to you. I've been struggling more than I care to admit," Lewis confesses, his voice heavy with the weight of his words.

"The season has been relentless, and the constant setbacks with my car... it's been a mental battle I haven't been winning."

He pauses, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his anguish. "I know I haven't been myself lately, and I've taken that out on you. I'm sorry, truly. I never meant to hurt you, but I let my frustrations get the best of me."

There's a vulnerability in his voice as he lays bare his struggles, a raw honesty that cuts through the silence between you. "I see now how my actions have affected you, and it breaks my heart. You didn't deserve to bear the brunt of my pain, and I'm sorry for not being there for you when you needed me."

His gaze meets yours, pleading for understanding and forgiveness. "I'm trying to work through this, to find my way back to myself so that I can be better for you. I want to be better for you."

His admission hits you like a wave, washing away the bitterness and resentment that had taken root within you. It's as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, the burden of hurt and anger finally dissipating in the face of his vulnerability.

With a heavy sigh, you meet his gaze, seeing the turmoil reflected in his eyes. In that moment, you realize that despite the pain of the past, the love you once shared still lingers between you, a flicker of hope in the darkness of your regrets.

And as Lewis continues to pour out his heart, expressing his remorse for the loneliness you felt in the relationship, you find yourself nodding in understanding. You know all too well the toll that suffering in silence can take, and you can't fault him for wanting to shield you from his own pain.

In the quiet of the moment, you find solace in the shared acknowledgment of your struggles, a silent understanding that binds you together even as you stand on opposite sides of the divide. And as you reach out to him, offering a tentative embrace, he physically brightens as if you have taken the sun and held it right above him.

"I need you to know," Lewis begins, his voice laced with a raw vulnerability, "how miserable I've been without you. Your absence... it's been like a gaping hole in my chest, a constant reminder of what I've lost."

His words tremble with the weight of his emotions as he continues, "I've missed you more than I ever thought possible. Every moment without you felt like an eternity, and the emptiness of your absence was impossible to ignore."

"I know I've made mistakes, pushed you away when I should have pulled you closer," he admits, his voice thick with regret. "But please understand, it was never because I stopped loving you. If anything, it was because I loved you too much and didn't know how to cope with the pain of making you feel as miserable as I was, but in the end, that is exactly what I ended up doing."

Lewis's gaze meets yours, pleading for understanding and forgiveness. "I can't change the past, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. Please, give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me, how lost I am without you by my side."

As Lewis pours his heart out, his words piercing through the walls you've built around your own heart, you feel a lump form in your throat. A single tear escapes, tracing a path down your cheek as you struggle to contain the flood of emotions welling up inside you.

His vulnerability is a mirror to your own, and in that moment, you realize just how much you've missed him, how much you've longed to hear those words spoken from his lips. With a trembling breath, you close the distance between you, your heart pounding in your chest as you lean in to kiss him.

The touch of his lips against yours is like coming home, a familiar warmth that envelops you in a cocoon of love and longing. In that fleeting moment, everything else fades away – the pain of the past, the uncertainty of the future – leaving only the two of you reunited at last in a tender embrace.

As you melt into each other, the weight of the world falls away, replaced by the sweet promise of a new beginning. And as you pull back, breathless and teary-eyed, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you'll face them together, hand in hand, forever bound by the unbreakable bond of love.

"Lewis," you begin, your voice soft but firm, "I need you to promise me something. I need you to promise that you'll open up to me next time, that you won't keep your struggles bottled up inside."

Tears still glisten in your eyes as you speak, but there's a determination in your voice that wasn't there before.

"That's how it works in relationships, you know? We're supposed to be there for each other through the good times and the bad. And I want to be there for you, always."

You reach out, taking his hand in yours, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"I love you, Lewis, and I care about how you feel. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to internalize your emotions like you have to suffer alone. I want to walk through them with you, hand in hand."

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you continue, "If we're going to make this work if we're going to have a future together, that has to change. We have to be able to lean on each other, share our burdens, and lighten each other's load. Can you promise me that, Lewis? Can you promise to let me in?"

"I promise I'll try," Lewis responds, his voice tinged with sincerity and determination. "I know I haven't been the best at opening up, at letting you in, but I want to change that. I want to be more vulnerable with you, to share my struggles and my fears."

He reaches out, gently wiping away the tears that still linger on your cheeks.

"I love you more than anything, and I don't want to lose you again. If that means being more open and honest about how I'm feeling, then I'll do whatever it takes."

A small smile plays at the corners of his lips as he continues, "You've always been there for me, even when I didn't deserve it. And I want to be there for you, too, to be the partner you deserve."

With a final squeeze of your hand, he leans in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "Together, we can get through anything. I believe that with all my heart."

As Lewis holds your hand, his thumb tracing absentminded patterns over your skin, he can't help but notice the absence of the familiar weight of your ring. His heart clenches painfully in his chest at the realization, a sharp pang of regret shooting through him like a bolt of lightning.

"I-I'm sorry," he stammers, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't help but notice... your finger, it's bare." The words catch in his throat, choked with the weight of his own guilt and remorse.

His grip tightens ever so slightly as if trying to hold onto you, to keep you from slipping away. "It pains me to see you without it," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know I'm the reason you took it off, and I hate myself for it."

Tears gather in his eyes as he meets your gaze, his own filled with a mix of sorrow and longing. "I miss the way it sparkled on your finger, a constant reminder of the love we shared. I miss us, and I'm so sorry for everything."

With a gentle squeeze of Lewis's hand, you offer him a reassuring smile, your eyes soft with affection. "I missed you too, Lewis," you admit, your voice tinged with sincerity. "And I still love you, all the same."

You can feel the tension in his grip ease slightly at your words, a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes. "As for the ring," you continue, a playful twinkle dancing in your gaze, "I suppose you'll have to put it back on my finger when we get home, won't you? Can't have everyone thinking I'm single, now can we?"

The corners of Lewis's lips quirk up into a hesitant smile at your jest, the heaviness in his heart beginning to lift. "I'd like that," he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'd like that very much." And in that moment, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you'll face them together, hand in hand, forever bound by the unbreakable bond of love.

Lewis's eyes widen in disbelief as your words sink in, a glimmer of hope flickering to life in their depths. "You'll come home?" he repeats, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and longing.

A rush of emotions floods through him – relief, gratitude, and a profound sense of joy that threatens to overwhelm him.

A smile spreads across his face, lighting up his features with an infectious warmth. "Roscoe will be so thrilled to have you back, and so will I," he adds, his voice filled with genuine happiness. "I've missed you more than words can say, and I can't wait to have you home again where you belong. Losing you has been hard on all of us," Lewis confesses, his voice tinged with sorrow. "But seeing how miserable Roscoe has been without you at home... it breaks my heart."

He pauses, his gaze drifting to the floor as he struggles to find the right words to express the depth of his concern. "He's been moping around, refusing to eat, just waiting by the door for you to come back. It's like he knows you're not coming back, and it's killing me to see him like this."

You can hear the pain in his voice, the weight of his worry pressing down on him like a heavy burden. "I know he's just a dog, but he's family to us," he continues, his voice cracking with emotion. "And I hate that he's suffering because of me, because of my mistakes. I'm happy that you're coming back."

"I've missed you more than words can say, and I can't wait to have you home again where you belong."

With a sense of renewed hope and determination, Lewis pulls you into a tight embrace, holding you close as if afraid you might vanish into thin air. In that moment, surrounded by his love and warmth, you know that coming home was the right choice and that together, you can weather any storm that comes your way.

As Lewis's arms envelop you in a warm embrace, a sense of clarity washes over you like a cleansing wave. In his embrace, surrounded by his love and warmth, you realize that the change you needed wasn't leaving him but instead learning to communicate with him all over again.

The weight of your decision to leave lifts from your shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of lightness and freedom. You see now that leaving him only made you miserable, that true happiness lies in facing your challenges together, hand in hand.

With Lewis by your side, you feel stronger, more resilient, and ready to tackle whatever obstacles life throws your way. You understand that change isn't always easy, but it's necessary for growth and renewal.

In this moment, surrounded by his love and support, you know that change is indeed good and that together, you can navigate the twists and turns of life's journey with grace and resilience. And as you bask in the warmth of his embrace, you feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the opportunity to start anew, to rebuild your relationship from the ground up, stronger and more resilient than ever before.

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why do I love writing angst? why is every draft I have depressing?

#lewis hamilton imagine #black reader #lewis hamilton #poc reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #black reader friendly #formula 1 #f1 #sir lewis hamilton

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zzztlk · 2 days

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ayo idk if this question has been asked before but did you have any character inspirations for nat, reagan and the demon dude? like, were they were inspired by any movie/tv show/video game characters or any ppl irl? ik the demon dude was probably based off of biblical lore (i feel like i heard you mention this, correct me if im wrong) but idk much about nat and reagan and i was wondering if there were any particular aspects that went into their personalities or any specific character designs choices. basically, how did you come up with their personalities and character designs lol. PS love your drawings <3

Tyyy and yep! Rabel was based off of Christian lore along with some other stuff, I talked about it a little before but there's more to it that I can't say at this time muahaha

As for Nat and Regan, I'll talk about them a bit under the cut! Here's the very first designs I made of them lol.

Originally Regan was conceived as a red herring candidate for the demonic possession who was actively seeking an encounter with the occult so I themed her to look kind of spooky and edgy. Over time, that aspect sort of got pushed out by how the plot was coming together and her character became more about opting out of agency over her own life and sitting back while the world around her did its thing, so she kinda morphed into being a disheveled losergirl who wears big clothes.

The idea behind Nat was to go in the opposite direction of Regan's original concept. Someone who looked clean cut and unassuming but felt small and powerless and restrained in every aspect of their life; the actual ideal target for a demon. Only thing that really changed about her is she looks gayer now.

In terms of external influences, there's some Jennifer's body baked into the premise for sure but additionally I'd say that the true sourdough starter for their personalities/dynamic can be traced back to... butterfly soup Noelle and Akarsha..

#ttbasks #nat #regan

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 3 days

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IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT. ( House of the Dragon x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! I said fuck it and did all three. <3 pairing: CHUBBY! Aegon ii Targaryen x WIFE! Reader prompt: After noticing Aegon sneaking out of your chambers at night, you fear he had taken up hold habits. Only they weren't the one's that you were expecting. word count: 1, 000+ words

For a fortnight now it has been going on. You knew this for a fact, you keep count in your head. It was like a schedule or routine of sorts. You’d wake up, reach out for Aegon’s side of the bed, only for it to be empty and cold. At first you had assumed that he had gone to the bathroom or outside onto the balcony for some fresh air. It was the most logical explanation.

Sometimes he was restless at night. Years of having a horrid sleep schedule, overindulging in wine that made him sick, and all of the secret trips to Flea Bottom in the cover of darkness made it hard for him to sleep. No matter how many times you two had tried to get him on a proper sleep schedule. It just never seemed to work. So this started to make you weary.

He hadn’t gone to brothels or Flea Bottom in two months now. He still drank Arbor red, but not as much as he used to before your marriage. He was getting better. Truly, and you adored how much he was willing to go just to show his devotion to you. But, there was a tiny voice. Just the smallest one in the back of your head that sounded a lot like the gossip in Court.

“You’re not enough. He’s finally lost that ‘Honeymoon High’ for you. He’s gone back to them, to the whores in Flea Bottom. To the taverns and bottles of strongwine.” It whispered.

But, tonight. Tonight, you were going to figure it out. Even if it leads to an answer that you did not like. Why was your husband leaving your bed at night? Where was he going? What was he doing?

And could you get Aemond’s help in getting rid of Aegon’s body should it come down to it?

Narrowing your eyes softly as Aegon walks down the corridor, the paranoid voice in the back of your head whispers into your ear, telling you he was going to see some mistress. He did not change nor look like he was leaving the Red Keep, still dressed in his night clothes and barefoot. So why else was he leaving your chambers? Clearly there was something or someone more important than you. This was not a mix of jealousy! Not in the slightest! No. No. Well, maybe a little.

Waiting until he was far enough away, you slowly tip-toed after him, a thin robe wrapped around you to hide your chemise. You would get answers. One way or another. Furrowing your brows in confusion as he turns left to the where the kitchen’s are, you follow, confused. Okay, mayhaps you were being a tad dramatic. But, still, why was he going to the kitchens?

“Mayhaps he is visiting that pretty new servant girl, the one from the Reach. With her pretty golden hair and disgustingly pretty face that looked like one from a painting.” The voice in your head whispers.

Walking down the steps to the kitchen, you stop at the doorway, instantly flushing a bright pink as embarrassment fills you. Instead of finding Aegon embracing some girl. He was embracing a pastry and chalice of wine. Letting out a soft laugh of disbelief, you wish the ground would swallow you whole and never spit you out.

He wasn’t cheating. He was gorging on food and wine. You truly were a fool to let stupid courtly gossip influence your mind. Hearing the sound of your shocked laughter, Aegon turns to look at you, eyes wide and full of horror. Shaking your head softly, his cheeks were stuffed full with the pastry he had just inhaled like air, the sugary custard smeared on his lips.

“It is not what it looks like.” He blurts out, looking like a spooked animal.

“Oh?” You raise a brow, “So, you're gorging yourself on sweets, right now? This is all a dream of mine?”

He pauses for a good second, almost as if he was contemplating on what to say next.

“Yes..?” He asks, unsure.

“I…I do not know whether to scold you, laugh at the ridiculousness of this, or go back to bed.” You breathe out, pinching the tip of your nose.

“Can I get a kiss if you are going back to bed?” He asks, innocently.

Oh, sweet seven hells. He was the most lovable and irritating man you had ever met.

Struggling to hold any grudge against him for his sneaking around, you walk over to him, shaking your head with a chuckle of disbelief and amusement. The both of you probably looked like fools. You all disheveled and dressed only in a chemise and robe. Him, chubby cheeks smeared with custard, dressed in a tunic and loose pants. It was all so stupid.

“I love you..?” He mumbles unsure.

“I love you too, Aegon. I..I just..” You let out a chuckle of disbelief.

“What? Tis’ not anything bad, just eating a few sweets.” He argues innocently.

“For a fortnight now, you’ve snuck out of our bed, making my mind spiral to the worse.” You point to the plate in front of him, “For this?”

“Yes.” He nods, wiping his face clean with the back of his hand.

Standing in front of him with a soft smile, you tenderly clean the last of the custard on the corner of his lips with your thumb. A tab bit grateful that it was only just his sweet tooth that had kept leading him away from your bed than some other woman. You didn’t know what you would do if it had been that. Staring back at you with a confused look on his face, he doesn’t pull back from the affection, leaning into your touch. A mix of confusion and a lovesick glimmer in his eyes.

“What? Did I truly worry you?” He asks, “Tis’ just sweets.”

“A bit. But, the way you snuck out. Tis’ just, well, you..” You stop yourself, not daring to mention his past out loud.

Shit. Shit. Shit. That was a bad idea. Why did you have to say that?

“I know what you're referring to. I..I have just found myself trading in old habits for something more..” He rambles on, “Pleasant.”

“I rather you tell me of this, than keep it a secret.”

“I did not wish to wake you.” He whispers, “Tis’ shameful to have awakened you and tell you that I wish to eat at such an hour.”

Stroking his chin with your thumb, you pull away from him for a moment, turning to the plate of sugary tarts and custard fill rolls. Hearing him grumble as you pull away, you playfully bump your hip against your own, cracking a smile at him. Sitting down on one of the counters, he scoots closer to you, his chubby body practically engulfing you as soon as you are in arm’s reach.

“Now, what have you been eating, hm? Tell me all of it.” You tease, picking up a tart from the plate.

----

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

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sharkiethrts · 21 hours

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prompt: meeting highschool sweetheart! sunday for the first time. oh, just how charming he tried to be

relations: sunday x reader

notes: this is modern au! with little relation to the actual story. There are NO YANDERE THEMES in this particular work, I'm more focused on picturing the human side of Sunday (without the detrimental effects of the dream master's manipulations).

warnings: none.

He talks a lot. Though you find that every word he says tend to fill with immense knowledge that seemed to peruse all the right places that clicked all the content your teacher had tried to impart upon the class. At this point, he made the teachers' comments seem more like an add on to his lessons. A rendition, almost.

He doesn't seem to have ever possessed a single vacuous thought in his life.

He's resplendent, too. Which added onto the charm, even if the classmate had found the subject particularly boring, they'd have to focus their gaze on him at least. If his charms hadn't worked (how, even), then his commanding presence should do the trick. Even when he wasn't speaking, you found that your gaze often found their way so incredibly naturally to him.

You think he knows of his charm. Otherwise, why would he be so confident in offering to relay the summary of Kafka's 'metamorphosis' so eagerly to you as an accompaniment to your reading.

"Kafka's self esteem has essentially pledged itself upon the approval of his family, which led to the derelict condition of his heart at the post-climax of the story..."

His voice is nice too. If the noises of the library are a cacophony of miserable sounds, his seems to have conducted all of it into an irie melody. You find yourself wondering whether his interactions with you have been a combination of polite passes and a shackled formality to maintain with another. You aren't an idiot, though you can be rather forgiving to details, you certainly haven't missed the unctuous smile and words he gifts to another.

You'd like to think that you'd be able to catch it when his facade starts showing but with the way his golden eyes introduce you to a drowning reverie, you start to doubt it.

It's not your first interaction, since his eager summarisation of Great Expectations two months ago, he hasn't stopped approaching you.

A part of you start to suspect that he had planned this. Every Friday, twelve forty-five, at the fiction corner.

You'd once change your schedule, moving it an hour later and happened upon Sunday impatiently waiting by the non-fiction corner, just two steps away from the fiction corner. When your eyes met, you think you saw a hint of splendor relief. You had quickly turned away. So you missed the rest.

"Are you perhaps tired?" His questions brings you back to reality, your eyes blinking furiously from how dry it had gotten by the past minute of you completing gazing off, "I understand that you had biology just prior to this, so I'd understand if you'd prefer to talk about something... easier to swallow... Macbeth, perhaps?"

There it is again. His not-so-subtle-now-that-you've-caught-on way of leading your time together to become a plethora of unending adventures. He doesn't offer to walk away but rather, a simple remedy of a new book. Sometimes a longer one, he had tried to sneak Harry Potter in once. Sneaky boy.

Seriously though? Macbeth for an 'easier-to-swallow' alternative? Now he's getting sloppy.

You test him.

"How about we part ways for now?" His eyes turned cautious. You decide to push it further, "I don't wish to burden your... already crowded responsibilities," you're certainly aware of his role as the golden boy of the Oak family, "Nor do I wish to force more ingratiating words out of you," You're certainly aware of his hidden affections for you by now, "Now that I think of it, haven't this been going on for... three months? That doesn't sound too fair to you-"

"-Two months," He cuts you off, his eyes now looking slightly strained. His posture taut, "You shouldn't be worrying of anything of the sorts, I'm completely happy to revise any type of stories you're interested in..."

That reminds you, your lie of being interested in Metamorphosis. You're sure that he hasn't read of it, yet, with his superb recounting of it to you? He must have spent his week revising.

"You don't need to be so... genteel," You smile, knowing exactly what a fool you're making of him, "I'm not exactly the most exciting conversation partner."

"Nonsense!" He cuts you off again, suddenly forgetting his manners, "You make me feel excitable things, I can assure you-" His cheeks suddenly turn red. His mouth closes. Then opens. And shuts again.

You let out the cheekiest smile you can possibly muster, "... Excitable, you say?"

You watch his neatly folded collar wrinkle for the first time.

"Nothing scandalous!"

You weren't thinking of such but now you're certainly curious, "I'm not quite sure I believe you."

Oh, did his tie loosen? A new sight to behold indeed.

Best to come at twelve forty-five sharp next week then.

#sunday hsr #sunday x reader #sharkie works ; all honkai #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr x you #modern soft! sunday #highschool sweetheart!sunday #soft!sunday

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shaisuki · 2 days

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goddddddd bully! atsumu, bully! osamu and bully! suna who goes too far with teasing their manager! chubby reader is so fucking delicious. maybe osamu wouldn't be much of a participant but the other two are vile 🧍🏽

I love when they have to try a-z methods just to reconcile with chubby!reader again 🤌🏽❤️

ugh, the trio are the worst combination of it all. the bullying's not complete and ineffective if you aren't crying. see the tears welling up in your eyes and your voice cracking up telling them to stop.

stop what?

atsumu's crude and damn loud about pointing your insecurities aloud. pinching and groping where he deemed that pokes too much. the waistband of your pants squeezing your stomach and showing that cute muffin top in your shirt, god forbids he won't be touching that. pinching the flesh and groping it and atsumu comments how big it was that it hurts. it started to leave bruises and imprints of his hands in that. laughs everytime you move and see your fat jiggle like it was the funniest thing he had ever seen in his life and there's his twin.

osamu isn't the extreme in the physical but knows what buttons to push to get you bothered and later sniffing on your own to hide the tears. backhanded compliments and comments are made when you do something simple as eating. “'yer going to get bigger than already 'ye are.” then shrugging it like nothing it was and offers you more food and you're questioning your sanity after that.

suna doesn't comment much but his gallery is littered with your embarrassing pictures that he had taken from the previous meetings. your photos are in weird angles and some are taken with awkward poses you didn't even know about. wether it was refilling water bottles or placing the stray balls back in the storage bin. some are made to look your body to be deemed worst and he would crack a smile from it and atsumu would join. tears in his eyes while he comments on how wide you are.

it doesn't make much of a difference to them and when you gathered the courage to tell to stop it only ends in worst. saying that you're too sensitive and a killjoy. they were only having a good laugh about you and then the winds change when you ignore them for the rest of the day and shutting them down in practices.

they tell you they're sorry and delights you with small tokens of gifts. osamu makes you food. cooing how you eat his food well and it makes him happy that you love his food that much. atsumu lays down on the teasing and tells you how much he loves your body in his hands and suna just... you know the silent treatment. they do it so well that you think they've changed and only for them do it again. cause where's the fun if there's no tears and the cute sniffles you always made for them. your soft, plush body trembling while they teamed up on their relentless teasing.

they always take it as challenge on how far you can endure it and the cycle never ends. hope you have a replacement or find a way to leave the volleyball team.

#꩜ ⋮ shai's thirst/drabbles⸝⸝#chubby reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x chubby reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya twins #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarō #miya atsumu #miya osamu

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 days

Text

A part two for Changes was requested by @ali-r3n 💞 In part one the reader changes her style to be more like Chrissy's since Eddie has a crush on her.

She hopes this will make Eddie notice her but he doesn't want her to change herself for him and she's crushed to find out that he's not interested in her like that.

The first part of this fic was written so long ago and my writing style has changed a lot 💞

Now that you're all caught up here's the summary for part two;

After realising that Eddie will never be interested in you, you decide it's time to move on. There's a new guy at school called Jenson, he's a metalhead like Eddie and very much your type...

Angst, jealous Eddie, Eddie wakes up and smells the roses, Mutual pining, fluff. Mdni.

💌💞

After your humiliating experience with Eddie you do your best to avoid him. He didn't even want you when you dressed like Chrissy because she was his dream girl. Not you.

You had to accept that you would never ever be his type. Just his friend. His buddy.

Robin met you after school and she could tell by your face that you're big plan to get Eddie to notice you had gone out of the window. Steve watches you concerned as you wipe the make up of you face and attempt not to cry.

"Steve can we stop off for some ice cream. I think she needs it" Robin gestures to you and Steve nods.

"Ice cream and movie night. Does that sound good honey?" You nod and feel extremely grateful that you have such amazing friends besides Eddie.

You would eat ice cream and nope for a while and then you would finally try and get over Eddie. It was better this way, you couldn't stand the thought of him feeling pity for you because he didn't feel the same.

It would ruin your friendship and you never wanted that to happen.

...

Things are awkward with Eddie. Extremely awkward. You don't know what to say to him and he's being overly nice and just not himself with you.

Fuck, you wish you didn't say anything, didn't go ahead with your stupid plan in the first place.

Then to make matters worse principal Higgins calls you into his office. Grudgingly you make your way there and when you enter the office he's talking to a new student that you had never seen before.

He was tall, wild curls of long blonde hair and big brown eyes, he was wearing a Black Sabbath t shirt and leather jacket. Ripped black jeans and black boots. He's glaring at Higgins.

"I don't need a babysitter dude" the principal ignores this mysterious boy and gestures to you.

"Yn will be your guide around school. Your buddy while you settle in. You've been here for two weeks and you've barely made any effort to include yourself in anything Mr Jenson"

Jenson flips Principal Higgins the bird when he's not looking and you stiffle a giggle. He winks at you and you feel your body heat up, all the way to your toes.

"Fine. Lead the way pretty lady" he gestures to you and opens the door.

Hey maybe school won't be so bad after all?

"You can join me and my friends at lunch. We sit at the our own table, the Hellfire table. We play Dungeons and Dragons" you explain and he nods along as he follows you to the cafeteria.

Quickly you explain to the boys about what the principal asked you to do.

"Jenson is new and he needs some friends, people to show him around and get him settled" Eddie who's immediately suspicious of new students, studies Jenson. His big brown eyes sweeping over him and narrowing.

You do your best to explain who everyone is and point out Chrissy and the cheerleaders, you feel that pang in your chest about Eddie again.

Jenson scoffs and turns to you. "I'm not interested in the cheerleaders. I'm interested in you, beautiful"

Wait what? You nearly choke on your can of soda and meet Jenson's eyes.

"Me?" he nods and leans closer to you, so close you can smell his spicy cologne. "Wait, what was I talking about again?" You're kinda dazed by him if you're being honest.

He smirks then leans back in his seat.

"I think I like this table" his gaze stays on you and you hear Eddie mutter something under his breath.

"This table is only for Hellfire members" Eddie's voice is tight and full of dislike. Jenson pouts and turns to you.

"You'll sit with me this week yeah? Help me get settled and all?" You nod and avoid Eddie's livid gaze.

Things will be okay after all...right?

💞

For the next week you accompany Jenson at his table. Eddie isn't happy about this.

"Eddie he's not a Hellfire member, unless you want to see if he's any good at d&d" you suggest and Eddie shakes his head vehemently.

"I don't want him in Hellfire" he pouts and it's kinda adorable. Fuck, no it's not adorable, you're trying to get over this stupid crush.

"Not even for me? He's kinda dreamy" Eddie stills at this and you look away from his fierce gaze. What's his problem anyway? Feeling brave you point out to him that you finding Jenson dreamy is a good thing.

"Things have been weird between us since...well since the other week. You made your feelings clear and I need to move on. We can still be friends and there will be no awkward tension or anything like that" Eddie looks like he's about to say something else but Jenson shows up and the conversation stalls.

"Hey princess" Okay this time Eddie definitely does stiffen and his eyes flash as they turn to Jenson.

"I call her princess, no one else does dude" Jenson snorts and claps Eddie on the shoulder.

"You can't own a name dude. Anyway she likes it when I call her princess. Don't you honey?" Oh shit. You look between the two of them and feel torn. Eddie was your friend and Jenson well maybe someday when you were over Eddie he could be more than your friend?

"Shouldn't you be chasing that cheerleader you like Munson... leave Princess to me" Jenson winks at Eddie.

Your stomach sinks as Jenson goes to wait for you at a table. How could you forget Eddie mooning over Chrissy? It hardens your resolve.

"It's just a name Eddie. Why do you care so much anyway?" you ask him and he doesn't answer. Sighing you head over to Jenson and the knot in your stomach tightens even more.

💞

Eddie is quieter than normal during today's lunch. Dustin can sense something is wrong with him but Eddie's moods could be unpredictable and he didn't want to cause his hero anymore upset.

He didn't like seeing Eddie like this though, he had a funny feeling it was to do with the blonde metalhead currently taking up all of your attention.

Doesn't Eddie notice the way your gaze still strays to him? Don't you notice the longing way Eddie gazes at you?

Then again did Eddie even realise the way he looked at you? Why were the two of you such pining idiots?

Jason who is passing the Hellfire table nudges Eddie and smirks, "Aww freak, looks like you're not the apple of her eye anymore"

Shit. If looks could kill Jason would be dead. Eddie flips him off and Jason walks away laughing.

"Asshole" he huffs and Mike chuckles. "He's right though Eddie. She definitely has a type though doesn't she?" If possible Eddie's eyes narrow even more yet Mike doesn't notice.

Dude, stop talking Dustin begs but Mike carries on oblivious. "If you didn't spend so long pining over Chrissy then you wouldn't have lost your chance dude. It sucks, I'm sorry" Eddie deflates and whispers quietly.

"Do you really think I don't have a chance anymore?"Mike shrugs and Dustin tries to give him a hopeful smile but it doesn't seem to help Eddie who settles back in his chair with a glum expression on his face.

He watches you and Jenson and sighs. "you're right Wheeler. I wasted my time pining over the wrong girl"

💞💞

Even with Jenson being sweet and obviously interested your stupid traitor heart still aches for Eddie.

Robin who likes everyone has her reservations about Jenson. "I saw him flirting with some other girl yesterday, I think he's messing with a lot of girls hearts"

The thought of Jenson doing this should hurt you but it doesn't. Fuck. This was hopeless. How would you ever get over Eddie if you couldn't open your heart to someone else.

"Munson was in here yesterday. I mentioned that Jenson dude and he kinda ranted a bit" Steve says as he stocks the video tapes on the shelves.

"He's been weird with Jenson since I started hanging out with him"

Robin exchanges a knowing look with Steve and they both say at the same time. "He's jealous"

Hope briefly encompasses you then deflates. Eddie being jealous of Jenson? That was ridiculous. Plus Eddie still liked Chrissy didn't he?

"No he's not" you shake your head adamantly but there's no changing Steve's mind.

"Honey, I'm a guy and I know when a guy is jealous. Munson is jealous of this Jenson guy. He's another metalhead honing in on his girl and Eddie is like a feral raccoon warning him off"

A feral raccoon you stifle a smile at Steve's description of Eddie. Speaking of Eddie he comes into the store with Chrissy. Oh.

Suddenly Steve's thoughts seem completely wild and far fetched. See. You try to communicate with Steve that he's completely wrong.

"I really think you should just ask Eddie" Chrissy replies to Eddie and you wonder what. Was he going to ask Chrissy out? You don't want to stick around for that.

You gather your things at the same time Eddie spots you and freezes. Chrissy smiles at you warmly and you return it even though your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest.

"Dude, did you hear that Jenson was in here wanting to ask princess out" Steve suddenly pipes up, completely out of the blue and Eddie's eyes widen as they meet yours.

Jenson hasn't asked you out. If Steve was trying to make Eddie jealous then it wasn't going to happen, you're kinda tired of hoping for something that wasn't meant to be.

"I'll see you tomorrow, gotta get home and cram for this biology test" you hurry out of the store and tj your car.

Blasting out Black Sabbath helps clear your thoughts and you're relatively more relaxed as you get home.

There's the telltale sign of Eddie's van and you nearly jump out of your skin when it comes careening around the corner.

Eddie parks the van and jumps out. His eyes are wild and he jogs over to you still looking panicked.

"Don't date him" he says breathlessly and you pause unsure if you've heard him right. Did he seriously rush all of the way here to say this and why?

"Excuse me?" What the hell was going on?

"Don't date him. He's not right for you, he's egotistical and smarmy and...and he won't treat you right or love you the way you should be loved" you raise your eyebrow and when you speak your voice comes out all shaky.

"And how should I be loved Eddie?" He softens when he gazes at you and reaches out to caress your cheek.

"Like you're everything. No other girl compares to you and you're the best thing that's ever happened to a guy. Like you're the one and you always have been"

A small part of your anger comes roaring back and you groan exasperated. "Eddie. I practically told you I was in love with you. I have been for years and you basically rejected me and now that someone else shows interest in me you get a clue!"

He shrugs sheepishly and nods, "Robin said I was the world's biggest dingus. I fucked up okay? I know that and I know that it was the shittiest time to realise how I feel but I'm begging you, give me a shot and I'll never break your heart again. I promise you that"

You've always wanted to hear him say these words and you're torn between wanting to kiss him or yell at him some more.

"What about Chrissy?"

"Chrissy was a dumb crush, even if she was interested I don't care. I'm over that. Jenson helped me see what's been in front of me all along... It's you. It's always been you"

Well damn. You're still confused though because didn't he just come to Family Video with Chrissy and she was telling him just to ask someone something.

As if Eddie reads your mind he begins to explain. "I ran into Chrissy when I was heading to Family Video and she mentioned I was unusually quiet and everything about you poured out. She was telling me to just ask you out when we were heading into the store and then I saw you and I choked"

You bite back a smile and move closer to him, the need to kiss him feels a little overwhelming now.

"You really are an idiot Eddie but you're my idiot" you add affectionately and he kisses you. It leaves you momentarily stunned at how amazing it feels but then you're kissing him back.

When the two of you break apart you're both breathless, eyes shining and happiness written all over your faces.

"Shit, uh I was thinking maybe I could take you on a date. Maybe we could go to Lovers Lake and camp out for a little bit. Thought it would be romantic sweetheart"

"It's a date" you press another kiss to his lips and head into his van leaving a dazed and smug Eddie strutting to the van once he realised what you said.

💞

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson

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