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charliemwrites · 3 months

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A little request from the discord server about Castle “Daddy” Alistair and No Nut November.

CW: free use spice; everything is enthusiastically consensual and part of an established dynamic.

It’s all Keegan’s fault.

Looking back on all the devastation, every fault line to this disaster can be traced back to Keegan fucking Russ and his stupid cocky mouth.

It started like this: the team was playing cards and sharing drinks, the dinner Nova prepared long since enjoyed. They were discussing silly internet trends and challenges, trying to explain to an unimpressed Nikto what the point of it all was.

Castle was listening with mild amusement, shaking his head at the nonsense of it all. The fact that these arbitrary tasks were considered difficult was a mystery to him and he said so. Then Keegan tapped his finger on the table, a glint in his eye.

“Ya know… November is coming up…” he mused.

“What about it?” Castle asked.

Nova to perked up, eyebrows arched. No way would Keegan actually suggest—

“There’s this one challenge I think you’d struggle with Cap. It happens that month.”

Castle snorted softly, tossed a couple cards down. Let the moment draw out just to fuck with his partner, even though they all knew he’d humor him in the end.

“Yeah? What is it?” he asked, taking a swig of his beer.

“It’s called No Nut November. Pretty much what it says on the tin. You don’t cum for the whole month,” Keegan explained. He sat back and crossed his arms, looking smug. “Tell me you wouldn’t fold, Cap.”

Castle leveled him a steady, smoldering look. “I wouldn’t fold.”

Nova shifted, face flushing when Castle focused on her, eyebrows arched in silent invitation. She debated all of three seconds before throwing caution to the wind; Keegan could use a bit of backup against a man so formidable. And besides, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about what would happen.

“I’m not saying you couldn’t,” she mused, “I’m just saying that given your usual libido, I don’t think it would be a walk in the park.”

He snorted, seeing right through her half-hearted attempt at diplomacy. “Is that right? And what do you think, Nikto?”

A pause as he considered, then spoke low and measured. “The sergeants are getting too cocky.”

Castle smirked. “I agree.”

A week into the “challenge” Keegan had nearly forgotten. The team was busy, not much opportunity for more than cuddles and stolen kisses.

Two weeks in and he was enjoying himself immensely. Teasing Castle with wandering hands, climbing under his desk and getting him right to the edge, only to be stopped by a firm hand in his hair and a low warning that he wasn’t as sly as he thought. It wasn’t like Keegan (or anyone else on the team) was taking on the challenge. They were getting to indulge themselves as often as time and energy would allow - usually with their Daddy right there, talking them through it, organizing them as efficiently as he would in the field. Taking care of them with his mouth and hands to stave off some of his own frustration.

But week three… week three he started to worry. It wasn’t that Castle was struggling. It wasn’t that he was snappish or pent up or frustrated. It was that he seemed perfectly fine. A quick adjustment of his pants here or there, idly stroking himself while he watched his partners together. But he was like fucking iron for himself, and Keegan’s normal admiration was taking on a frightened edge.

And then week four began the silent, unknown countdown. Keegan felt it on the back of his neck like a sniper scope. A little, private smirk on his captain’s face, or a slightly rougher than usual sigh. An unusual flex in his jaw or twitch in his steady hands.

On November 30th, the team was lounging in their private rec room, idly watching a tv show together. Nikto was curled up with Nova in one of the big arm chairs, her head settled on his shoulder. Keegan and Castle were sharing the couch, the latter with an arm thrown over the back around his sergeant’s shoulders.

Halfway through, he glanced casually at his watch. Stood up to take his empty glass to the sink. Sidled back around to his spot.

Then snatched Keegan by the shirt and threw him to the ground.

“What the—”

His sweats were yanked down to midthigh, but his underwear didn’t survive, split right down the seam by brutal hands.

“Did you have fun?” Castle asked, dangerously low and even.

Keegan started to push himself up, but a big hand on the back of his neck stopped him. And then a heavy body followed, pinning him prone to the floor. He shuddered as he felt the thick, hot, rocking fucking hard cock sliding between his asscheeks.

“S-sir…“

A thrust hard enough to rock his entire body, dragging his quickly-filling dick across the carpet. He choked out a noise as reality began to set in. Christ, he almost wished that didn’t feel so good.

“Daddy, I—”

“Asked you a question, didn’t I?” Castle rumbled, voice deceptively casual. “Did you have fun?”

Keegan shuddered, any defiance or self-preservation draining when he felt the pierced head of his daddy’s cock catching at his rim. His well-stretched, well-used, still-wet rim. Because Castle had spent an hour before dinner getting him off on his thick fingers.

“Yeah…”

“What was that? A bit louder, kid.”

“Yes, Daddy, I had fun.”

Castle chuckled, so deep and low and rough that Keegan could feel it in his own chest, all the way down into the pit of squirming stomach.

“Good,” he cooed, “I hope it was worth it. Because now it’s my turn.”

Keegan was a stupid, drooling mess when midnight struck. Stuffed full of his captain’s cock and shuddering on oversensitivity. Would forever deny the high-pitched whine that escaped when he felt the absolute flood of cum being fucked into him. There was so much, it leaked out around Castle’s still-hard cock and dripped down Keegan’s reddened thighs.

“Happy December 1st,” Castle chuckled, pulling out.

Keegan shuddered as he stood, could hear the audibly pop as he cracked his neck.

“Nikto, take care of Keegan. I’m not done with him yet.”

“Yes, sir.”

A heavy, tense pause.

“You know what’s next, don’t you, babygirl?”

“Daddy, I’m not the one that—”

“If you run, I’m fucking you wherever I catch you,” he warned, taking a languid step towards her.

Nikto silently slipped out of the way to kneel down by a dazed Keegan. Nova despaired. “So make your next choice very carefully.”

He had them both twice over that night, leaving them whimpering and sobbing in his bed. They only got a break when Nikto took one for the team, kneeling down to suck Castle off so his partners could get a rest.

The next ten days were a lustful sort of hell. At any moment, without warning, Castle would grab a teammate and press them against the nearest surface - his desk, a wall, a chair, even the counter at gun range - and pound the daylights out of them. Sometimes even going out of his way to sneak up, appearing like a shadow and dragging one of them into a supply closet to ruin them.

On a normal routine, Castle had an almost improbable level of stamina and lust. But after a month without getting off, with satisfying himself on his partners’ pleasure and indulging their teasing? He was utterly insatiable. Keegan made a comment about him being so horny that Castle would override biology and get him pregnant. One day, he’d learn to keep the thoughts inside. Blame it on his brain being ruined by astronomical levels of cock.

The compensation fucking finally began to taper off halfway into December, Castle seeming to level out back to his normal libido. Still high, but not anytime-anywhere-anyone levels anymore. He did chuckle at his jumpy teammates in the aftermath though, watching their pupils blow out whenever he looked at them a certain way.

The next time they played cards (everyone but Castle sitting gingerly in their chairs) he smirked at Keegan around his beer bottle.

“So, you wanna try your luck next year?”

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #cod oc #my oc #castle ‘daddy’ alistair #captain daddy #keegan p russ #nova cod #cod nikto

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predestinatos · 6 months

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making a mess | CL16 𓍯

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

tags: one shot, fluff, very cheesy, soft!charles, facemask stuff, honeymoon phase

warnings: -

words: 783

note: tysm for the request @champagneholland!! i really needed tome inspo... it's a short-ish one but i hope u & everyone enjoy!

“Charlie” you said, laughing at your own use of the nickname, still getting familiar with its more playfully romantic connotation. “Stay still and close your eyes,” the simple request seemed impossible for him to fulfill, as the green clay of the facemask reached your hands, his hands and some hair.

“I can barely do one of those things when I’m with you, don’t ask for both” Charles laughed along with you, his dimples showing as he looked down at your face. “You’ll be forced to do one of those forever if I accidentally put it on your eye,” you kept giggling as he tried his best to remain still and occasionally open one eye to look at you.

Sitting in your bathroom, using the toilet as a chair, Charles let you apply the facemask carefully on your face, feeling your soft hands on his skin warming his whole body. When you were done, he got up excitedly, knowing it was his turn to do it.

You washed your hands and placed yourself on where he was previously sitting, looking up at him with glowing eyes and a smile – for a few seconds he just stared at you, completely bewitched by how lucky he was to have you. And then his hands here on your cheeks, squeezing them while he continuously kissed your lips – soft, cute pecks that then moved to your nose and forehead. “You’re so pretty” he said, giddiness written all over his expression, “and now half of your face is already covered with the mask. Much more effective this way.”

You jokingly rolled your eyes at him, his cheesiness and childlike way of loving you filling your heart immensely. Being loved as a best friend and partner was not something you were used to – previous relationships resulting in your feeling used – but as Charles stood in front of you with pajama pants and a green-ish facemask that almost matched the color of his eyes, you knew you were at home.

“Okay, Yoda, finish your work, please” you replied, pulling his hand towards you and allowing him to continue. Time went on, and he seemed to be nowhere near done, even though the package was basically empty at that point. Charles kept saying “there’s an empty spot here” when you complained about how long he was taking, enthusiastically applying the mask with such care you sometimes barely felt it.

But he could feel it – he touched every inch of your face with a gentleness that contrasted greatly with his strong hands and body, his toned chest bared before you. To him, every inch of you was precious and delicate, and he wanted to take care of it, kiss it, caress it, simply feel it.

So when he knelt down in front of you, claiming there was an “empty spot on your chin” you were surprised to feel his sudden touch on your thighs, not in a lustful way, but in a nurturing one. Leaving evidence of his touch all over your body, now looking like a canvas filled with loving strokes, he got up, pulling you softly, urging you to do the same.

As you did so, he lowered his head to your neck, kissing it and giggling as he kept painting you. You decided to pay him back for that, taking as much of the remaining product out of the package as you could and drawing silly doodles on his chest. His skin shivered at your touch, and he looked down at you, appreciating the contact he had craved for so long and now was lucky to have all for himself.

“You look like Shrek” you said, laughing and feigning pride at the masterpiece you created. He ran a hand through his hair, now completely messy, placing green highlights in it as well, cursing playfully at the movement. “I thought I was Yoda” he replied, to which you shrugged, “it’s whatever you prefer.”

“I think Shrek. He has Fiona” he replied, grabbing your hand and raising it, as you twirled under the bathroom lights cheerfully, holding him and being held in a waltzing stance as you finished. For a moment, you remained there, looking at each other’s ridiculous mess, how cozy it felt to be there, sharing breaths, memories and kisses.

After a while, Charles’ voice interrupted the silent moment, “is this supposed to burn?” he asked, suddenly concerned. “Shit, the time!” you remembered, realizing it had been longer than the amount suggested in the package instructions. “We should just take a bath” you both said, almost at the same time, laughing as he rushed to turn the shower on, not before leaving another kiss on the top of your head.

#consti reqs ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ #soo cheesy #f1 fic #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #charles leclerc fluff #fluff #charles leclerc oneshot #f1 fluff

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jvnluvr · 1 year

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“you’re warm, c’mere.” — blue lock boys ♡

when the blue lock boys take care of you when you’re sick.

ft. sae, kaiser, rin & isagi x f!reader

author’s note: OH MY LORD I FINALLY FINISHED THIS ! i‘m writing this while i’m in immense pain so this idea came through !! we went from like 400 to 700 in two weeks so one omfg how?? and second of all thank u all i love u sm from the bottom of my heart ♡ i'm still working on requests sadly,, hopefully i can finish them soon and i'm also thinking of releasing a fic,, but anyways enjoy the fluff ♡

itoshi sae:

to be honest, if you were in the decline of becoming more and more sick, sae wouldn’t be able to notice. he was just away from your house too much to be able to see your health slowly going down the drain. so the day you are physically unable to get out of bed, is coincidentally the same day sae’s practice runs extremely late. he’s almost jogging home, not wanting to worry you.

but when he opens the door to your shared home, he’s confused when all the light are still off, and everything seems untouched. “[name]? where are you?” and still, there was no response. his first instinct is to check your bedroom, because maybe you had just fallen asleep early this time around. so when sae slowly opens the door and sees you sitting there, eyes barely open and dark, hair disheveled and drinking water out of a tiny cup, his heart cracks.

“sweetheart,, what happened?” he closes the door behind him, going across to sit next to you. sae pats your hair down, giving you a hug so you can sniffle in his chest. “mm, think i came down a fever or somethin’, it was really bad when i woke up today. but you left early.” sae quite genuinely felt bad for not noticing, what kind of boyfriend doesn't realize? all while he's mentally shaming himself, you let out a loud (but still cute) sneeze, catching him out of his thoughts.

"sorry.. was practice okay?" you murmured, pulling the blanket back onto your now half warm body. he leans over you as you’re now tucked back into bed, looking at the way your cheeks are clearly flushed red and the faintest difference in the way you’re breathing, struggling. sae feels even worse looking at you now, so he finally realizes that he should do whatever he can to help you feel comfortable.

he removes his jacket, setting it on the bed as he goes out to the kitchen to make you some of your favourite food, not forgetting to bring the medicine that for some reason is all the way at the end of the cupboard. he sets it down all on a little tray, carefully walking towards your room once again where sae still sees you laying down in the same position from when he left the room.

"hmhmmm, mi amor, time to eat." sae hums at you, continuing the soft melody as puts the tray on the nightstand next to your bed, once again leaning over you; but this time he takes the cover off of you slowly, giving a soft smile towards your face as he sees how peaceful you look. “he estado pensando en ti.” (i’ve been thinking about you.) in his head, he thinks it’s stupid, the fact that he’s confessing what’s he’s felt to your unconscious self.

maybe it’s just an subconscious choice he always had in him, but something special about itoshi sae was confessing his love to you when you couldn’t hear him. maybe because he didn’t want to be embarrassed, or it was much easier like this. nonetheless, he doesn’t mind showing you affection in moments like these when you really need him.

his eyes widen in surprise when you turn around with a smile on your face, slowly opening your eyes and propping yourself up on your elbows. “pienso en ti también.” you giggled, still feeling the hoarseness in your throat. a visible dust of red scatters across his cheeks as his eyes gaze away, still gently rubbing your hair as he encourages you to eat what he made you. “i love you, okay? now please eat instead of staying under those covers all day.” sae lightly smiles.

michael kaiser:

like sae, kaiser is also way too busy with matches during the neo egoist league, so he’s barely home. he’s up at dawn and comes back way after you’ve fallen asleep. he tries to text you every now and then, also checking on you when he comes home before he goes to sleep beside you. but perhaps he had gotten so busy that he forgot to check on you the past couple of days, and that’s when your fever erupted.

you and kaiser can both be a little.. silly at times. how does this come into your being sick? well one day when kaiser comes home, expecting to maybe see you passed out on the couch or being welcome by a dark home, he sees you lying flat on the floor. at first he laughs at you, thinking this must be some kind of dumb prank you wanted to pull on him, but once you start whimpering in pain, he’s immediately at your side.

“okay my love, why the hell are you on the ground and what’s going on?” he’s sitting in front of you, trying to put his arms under your shoulders as he lifts you up to sit in front of him. oh, it all hits kaiser like a truck once he realizes. how could he not? your face is red, eyes are swollen, and you can barely even sit up on your own. you probably would have collapsed right back into the same spot if it weren’t for him holding you up.

“everything… hurts..” you’re barely able to sigh out. your head falls down, and kaiser swears his heart is aching at the sight. he’s already lifting you up into his arms and taking you to your room, where he lets you lie down for a bit while he almost sprints into the washroom to start a bath for you. if anything, he wants you to be relaxed right now.

“michael..” your voice is hoarse as you call out to him, kind of in a daze as you try and get up. he comes back out, reassuring that he hasn’t left your side. “i’m right here, baby. started something for ya.” he puts your arm around his shoulder as he helps you walk a couple of steps to the bathroom.

kaiser only really bothers to take off your shirt because he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable having to take off everything. he helps you sit down in the tub, and he joins you as well, sitting right across from you. he made sure to put some nice smelling soap to help you relax while extending his arms to rub some on your face.

“why didn’t you tell me you were falling ill, liebe?” he questions, not really expecting you to answer because he knew you were tired. “mm? didn’t wanna worry you ‘cause you’ve been so busy..” you reply, keeping your eyes closed. “you know i would drop practice to take care of you, right?” he explains, and internally you were well aware of it. it just didn’t stop you from not wanting kaiser to worry about it. so you let out a little hum in acknowledgement.

“i know what you’re thinking, but too bad. i’m staying at home with you now until you’re all better again.” he retorts, and you know he’s being more than just serious when he says that. “mikka, really? you don’t have to.” you quietly murmur, moving your hands up from the water. “yeah, says the one who was face flat on the floor when i walked in. you almost gave me a heart attack!” you let out a tiny giggle from that, not really remembering how you got there. “my turn to take care of you.” kaiser finally says, holding your hand in his as he has plans to pamper you to the fullest.

itoshi rin:

it’s when rin walked into your shared apartment when he saw you sprawled out across the couch. clearly, you weren’t okay, so his eyebrows furrowed deeply seeing you in such a condition. he walked over to you, looming over your frail figure as a pained reflection fills his eyes.

“rin..? why are you standing over me like that..?” you asked in a shocked but still quiet voice. as you tried to push yourself up with your elbows, rin crouched down as he pushed you back onto the couch gently.

“y’know as much as i love you, and i’m saying this in the nicest context possible, but you look like shit.”

your eyes widen for a second, but then you start to let a laugh out until you’re profusely coughing, causing rin to pick you up and sit you in his lap facing him. “i’m gonna get you sick rin, let me get off..” you try and get away from him; you really do. but he’s just as, if not more stubborn than you are, keeping his hands firmly planted on your waist.

he puts his hand on your forehead, his eyes showcasing more worry than before. “quit jumping, you’re burning up a lot. when did this even start?” you glance away, not wanting to tell him the truth, but rin is quick to catch on to even the most subtle of moves. so he grabs your chin to turn you back to him, looking for an answer in you eyes.

"you better tell me." he warns, brushing your hair out of your face, softly caressing your cheek right after that, urging you to give him an honest answer. “seriously, what’s gotten into you…” you blush away at his affection. usually he doesn’t pry you this much for information, no matter what has happened. but the way his eyes gaze all over, you can tell he’s genuinely worried. rin would be terrified if something bad had happened to you.

“okay, just c’mere please.” you’re already quite close to him, but you know he means to let him envelop his arms around you as you both lie down on the couch again. however this time, he’s there to make sure you can sleep peacefully; with no distractions and that if something does happen or if there’s something you need, rin is able to do it for you.

so as soon as he hears your light little snores as you quietly shuffle in his arms to get comfortable, he slowly releases his grip from you and gives you more space on the couch. really, he does wish that he could just hold you in his arms forever, (not that he would voice that want out loud, ever.) but he wanted to help around the house and get you some medicine, food and set up stuff to raise your spirits.

getting the medicine is easy, plus rin learned how to cook at a young age. he just.. didn’t really know what to do to help you feel emotionally better about this whole sick thing. he’s thinking about while he stands over the stove, slowing zoning out trying to think of something. but as quick as he was to zone out, was snapped back into reality when he heard your very obvious, groggy voice calling out his name.

“rin.. what are you doing..? why’d you leave..?” he kind of panicked at that moment, he wanted anything but for you to wake up and see what he was doing. “just uh.. was making some food for you.” he curtly said, lowkey embarrassed that you saw him doing something so… romantic for you.

“aww, you’re so cu-” you really wanted to finish that sentence, too bad your cough beat you to it, knocking the air out of your lungs and you held onto the counter for dear life. of course, rin was right next to you in an instant, rubbing soft circles around your back, then getting you a glass of water as you calmed down. as you drank from the glass, taking a deep breath in, you couldn’t help but notice rin staring at you with a soft smile. “yeah, you are cute, even when you’re sick.”

isagi yoichi:

isagi like goes through an entire (kinda overdramatic) monologue in his head when you fall to the common cold. it’s hard to explain, but unlike sae and kaiser, isagi notices quick. he doesn’t like spending time away from you, so he mostly comes home on time. he honestly finds it really adorable when your always sitting on a chair near the entrance and waiting to welcome him home.

until one day that just.. doesn’t happen. he’s confused to say the least, but then when he sees you come out of your shared room, a small blanket wrapped around you as you sniffle, he realizes what’s going on. so he drops his stuff into he ground and quickly goes over to you go wrap you in a tight hug.

“welcome back..” you say while letting out a cough into his shoulder. “what happened, [name]?” isagi whispered in your ear, rubbing his hand over your hair as you both rocked back and forth from time to time. “i think i’m sick, ‘ichi… i woke up today and my stomach was hurting really bad..” you murmured back as a response.

“aw, poor baby, must have been bad while i was gone, yeah?” usually this would sound like some sort of mocking, but he does it because isagi feels the need to protect you, and he likes talking to you like that sometimes. he thinks you deserve the princess treatment and he’ll indulge you. you more than just like it, and you’ll become a lot more clingier once he starts to speak to you in that tone. (maybe that’s why he does it so often)

isagi lifts you up, letting you cling onto him like a koala bear as he takes you to couch nearby, letting your blanket fall to the ground. “my blanket, yoichi..” you complain, losing the only source of body heat you had. “silly, i’m here now, i’ll give you what you need.” your face turns red at that, cause he’s just so sweet. “aww, she’s blushing. how cute.” you put a hand to his mouth to shut him up, not having the energy to talk.

he grabs your wrist to pull your hand away from his face, before giving it a little kiss and wrapping his arms around you again. he’ll stay close to you all he likes, isagi could care less about getting sick. if it means staying at home with you, right? “hurts here, right?” placing a hand on your stomach, he soothingly rubs small circles trying to ease the tension. “i hope this helps, even a little.. hm.. did you have medicine, cutie?” he asks, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck and leaning his head forward.

“mhm, was too lazy to get out of bed.” you answer, leaning into him at the feeling. it was much more relaxing than having to toss and turn in your bed. he lets you go for a second, sprints to the kitchen to find the medicine and runs back, almost tripping over the blanket you dropped earlier. “be careful, ‘ichi! if you’re gonna get hurt, who’s gonna take care of me?” you pout at him, clearly enjoying the time you’ve spent together since isagi’s come home.

he smiles at you because he just couldn’t help but think how adorable you are, even when you’re sick. he brings you into his arms again, lying down with you. “don’t worry, princess. i’ll stay here as long as you want to take care of you.” he presses a kiss against your forehead, letting you slowly drift off to sleep.

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enkas-illusion · 6 months

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Two Can Play a Game

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Geto Suguru x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: suggestive, Gojo being a menace, roommate shenanigans, wingman!Gojo, violent games, friendly banter, geto’s huge fingers…

Chapter Summary: You are stuck with your awful roommates on their Saturday games night. You were ready to be bored to death this weekend but what you were not expecting was being stranded on Geto’s lap by the end of the night.

Author's Notes: gamer!Suguru rotting my mind. Let me know if I should make a part 2! If you enjoy it, feel free to like, reblog or comment; I’d love to know your thoughts. Thank you for reading!

-Nanami's Munchkin

Part 2

Being roommates with Satoru and Suguru was nothing short of an adventure. It always felt like you were taking care of two cats who actually did pay rent but were a pain in the ass to handle.

The tamed one was Suguru, the black cat with black cat energy. Satoru, on the other hand, was worse than the orange cats, a menace, making your life miserable. However, you wouldn't have it any other way – a cat person always loves the little devils immensely, despite the hell they raise.

Saturday nights were game nights for the boys. Usually, Shoko, the fourth person in the house, your white dove of peace between the guys and you was out for the weekend. The dove in question, however, had betrayed you to flock in someone else’s nest so you were left alone with the men-children screaming over a stupid game.

It's true that you don't know what you've got till you don't have it anymore. You think back on all the times you open a bottle of wine, enjoy a smoke on the balcony, and share the gossip of the week with Shoko.

You weighed your options – scrolling through reels while silently drinking your wine while pretending you don't exist would be a lot easier than spending the night witnessing your two roommates behave like toddlers.

So you did just that, flopped down on the armchair scrolling through feed, sipping your wine quietly. You'd downed more than half the bottle before boredom hit, causing you to look up at the TV to see what Suguru and Satoru were up to.

The amount of fun they were having playing a violent and gory game made you cringe. For them, this was no less wholesome than a fluffy princess ride at DisneyLand.

“Seriously guys, is this fun to you? You just go around killing people!” Ideally, it'd be better to let it slide without the unnecessary commentary, but this is far from ideal so you let the boredom and booze speak for you.

“Oh and Genshin is not violent at all!! Sweet little Hillichurls getting hit by a meteorite just for existing is fun, right?” Satoru mocks back in an instant without taking his eyes off the game.

“I don’t think you know Hillichurls to be calling them sweet and little,” you argue, offended that your favorite game was dragged into the conversation.

This time Suguru replies,”Maybe you are just salty because you don’t know how to use a console.”

Taking full offense, you challenge, “I would've learnt it ages ago if I wanted to…”

“What's stopping you? That way you can play your precious Genshin on the console as well. It will be fun. Then we can all have a game night.” Suguru's tone is condescending but you understand him well enough to know when to take the bait.

“Hard pass! No way I wanna play with you both. It would only make my hair whiter than this dumbass.” You say pointing at Satoru.

“Huh! The feeling's mutual darling. I’m not psyched about you ruining our sacred games night. Also, you might finally start to look a bit attractive with hair like mine.”

Satoru’s comment ticks you off, you know better than to let it get to you but you're too far gone to think straight now. So you put down your wine glass as you stomp to where they're sitting, ripping out the console from Suguru, settling in the tiny space between the two manspreading, “You’re on, bitch!”

“You really think you can beat me?” Satoru looks amused, Suguru has a similar look on his face.

“Just shut the fuck up and start.”

As the game starts, you realize how dumb this decision was – you'd walked right into the trap. Not only do you not know how to use the console, you don’t even know what this game was and what you needed to do.

“I’m going to find youuu~~” Satoru says in a creepy singsong voice that makes you shriek as you try to run in the game.

Suguru just lies back on the sofa laughing at both your antics. No matter how much you tried to believe the cat analogy exclusively applied to the two, everyone knew you were one too.

“Found you!” Satoru squeals as you nevertheless try to hide and fail miserably. And before you know it, your screen turns red with the words DEFEATED on it.

You pout at Satoru and he says, “Aww, that was no fun. Let me heal you so we can go again.”

“Really! You can do that?” You ask, looking up to him with glittering eyes.

“Satoru!” you hear Suguru suddenly scold, causing you to stare at him with confusion. And before you can ask what was wrong, you hear a few more gunshots from the game. Satoru, being the absolute worst, continues to shoot your already dead character.

‘SatoruAlmighty_89 WINS’ the screen displays.

“Suguru! Satoru is so mean!” You look at Suguru with those puppy eyes that you know makes him melt. Your final trump card, given that he may or may not have called that look adorable in the past.

“‘Toru, your name doesn’t really look that well on top of the leaderboard… kind of used to seeing my own.” Suguru pokes at his best friend just to rile him up.

“Bitch please… Do you wanna go again?” Satoru takes the bait.

“Nope. Not me… her.” he says, tilting his head in your direction.

“Hmm?” you simply give him a confused look. But before you can decipher the meaning behind his words, he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you to him in one swift motion till you’re sitting on his lap. Your face turns hot as you quickly slide down to adjust between his parted thighs instead – trying to keep the atmosphere pg-13, what with Satoru in the room.

Suguru, on the other hand, couldn’t care less – he leans forward till his chest is flush against your back, resting his chin on your shoulder. His huge arms wrap around you, enveloping you into him as they hold the console in front of you.

“Okay, let’s defeat him, shall we?” he whispers sweetly in your ear, “Let me take it from here.” you feel his hot breath behind your ear, making you blush harder than a rose.

Satoru gives you both a disgusted look, “Ugh… get a room!”

“Somebody’s bitchless.” you tease Satoru. It wasn’t hard to sense the sexual tension that had always lingered in the back ever since you had started living together with Suguru – sure, you had two other roommates but you never wanted to tear the others’ clothes off in a fervor. Shoko had once teased you that ‘if one could try cutting the sexual tension with a knife, the knife would grow blunt due to how thick it was.’

As you’re laughing at the now-pouting Satoru, you twist your neck to look back at Suguru, giving him a big grin that makes his heart do summersaults.

Suguru’s fingers encompass your dainty ones as he guides them to the console. As the guys start playing the match, you move your fingers to the side of the device, letting Suguru take control as his fingers rapidly slam and rotate the buttons. You can’t look away from his hands even when the game begins. His fingers look so sexy moving around the console that you can’t help but imagine how they would feel on you.

“Pay attention to the game, sweetheart.” he whispers into your ear. His words catch you off-guard as your eyes shoot up to the screen, embarrassed that he’d caught you staring. His comment puts you into a deeper daze but you shake it off to focus on the screen, still you find your mind wandering, barely caring about the game.

He’s so into the game that his chest often presses against you as he tries leaning forward when a battle gets too intense. At one such moment, before you can talk yourself out of it, you shift your hips back ever so slightly to press against his crotch. You swear you feel his otherwise restless movements still for a split-second but he doesn’t let his composure falter since he had a match to win.

Suguru actually manages to win as his name makes it back on top of the leaderboard. You cheer out loud and turn around to hug Suguru, but not before tilting your head to blow raspberries at Satoru.

“What are you… like five?” Satoru complains. You simply bring your hand up to do a blah-blah gesture, rolling your eyes at him dramatically.

“It’s not fair! It was two vs one.” Satoru pouts.

“Go cry about it somewhere else. A win is a win!” you tease him further.

Satoru gets up from his place and walks off saying, “I anyway don’t play with cheaters.”

If you weren’t reeling in the high from your win and laughing at Satoru’s antics, you would have noticed the wink he gave to Suguru before retiring to his room.

You’re still laughing as you watch him go back to his room and shut the door behind him with a ‘night, cheaters!’

When it gets quiet, you suddenly become super aware of the way you’re still perched comfortably in Suguru's lap.

“You need to actually teach me how to use this thing.” You say as you try to break the impenetrable tension, fumbling with the console before tossing it on the sofa, beginning to get up.

Before you can move any further, you’re pulled right back into Sugurus lap as you let out a tiny squeal at the unexpected move. Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his clearly evident boner, hard against you.

“Did you really think I'd let you off so easily after you pulled that little stunt during the game?”

#nanamismunchkin #jjk x reader #jjk x you #erensbirdie #jujutsukaisen x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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viridianevergarden · 2 months

Text

In Spite of it All (Part I)

A/N: I’ve been cooking again I fear. A new little fic I have made that will have multiple parts. I don’t know how many lol. The plan is for it to be Dual POV between Elriel. I hope you enjoy my madness.

Summary: Since Nyx’s birth, Elain has put herself forward as the family dinner cook as of late. Through the course of her long day’s work to prepare dinner for her loved ones, something unexpected happens.

Word Count: 5.7K

Key: sfw, Hurt/Comfort

Possible triggers: Not much, really. This one’s safe.

It was a family dinner night. A night that Elain had always looked forward to nowadays. Since Nyx’s birth, the occasional group dinners became more frequent. A few days a week where everyone in the Inner Circle gathered under the roof of the townhouse to laugh and dine together, and of course, to see precious Nyx.

And being one that enjoyed cooking and baking as much as she did, Elain had made an obligation out of it as she always had.

On days like this, she had to wake up early to begin preparations and plans in the kitchen. To decide what was on the menu for everyone and to set everything in motion, all for dinner to be finished at a reasonable time.

Ever the supporters they were, the wraith twins, Nuala and Cerridwen had also involved themselves in the hard work, claiming that a friend doesn’t perform that immense of a task all alone. Even if it was their job to help out in general just as they always had, Elain couldn’t find it in herself to thank them enough every single time. And so Elain spent most of the day in the kitchen busying herself with the twins by her side.

Here she stood, as she had been since dawn, flouring and kneading dough on the kitchen island. Elain kneaded the bread dough silently, focused entirely on her work. Nuala and Cerridwen were on the other side of the kitchen working on their own sides that they tasked themselves with.

Press and fold, press and fold, press and fold—

The words repeated in Elain’s mind as she worked, though she failed to realize that Nuala had called her name. Called her name again. Again.

“Elain?” A shadowy hand touched her flour-covered forearm. Elain flinched slightly, looking over at Nuala with wide eyes.

Her breath caught and then she swallowed in recognition. “Oh– Sorry, I was a little too focused. Yes?”

Cerridwen angled her head from afar, listening in silently as she whisked a pan of cooking lemon curd for one of the cakes that were to be made.

“Are you alright?” The half wraith gave her a comforting smile, minding none of the flour that now covered her hand.

“I am,” Elain reassured her with a smile of her own. “Was there something you needed?”

Nuala shook her head. “I was just checking in on you. Your face looked… Troubled.”

“I promise I’m alright, thank you for asking.” Elain beamed another smile at her before getting back to her kneading.

The twins exchanged a quiet look between one another when Nuala turned around. Elain had guessed that they didn’t believe her, though she wasn’t going to attempt to reinforce her claim.

Truth be told, news had indeed put a damper on Elain’s mood today. Feyre had forewarned that Lucien was coming to dinner tonight, just for the night. Per Feyre’s own request, she had guessed. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t before, especially since he first showed up in the Night Court but—

Her beloved sister’s persistence had always troubled her. Regardless of what Elain had said in the past, what she had declared and tried so hard to make clear in the kindest way she knew how, she— they both persisted through it all in some weird hopeful way.

Perhaps it was because Elain didn’t understand. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she hadn’t experienced the magical level of love or the ultimate correctness that her sisters had felt with their mates yet.

The circumstances had made her question, well, everything. Question why her bond had snapped into place so suddenly. Questioned why the sensations were merely akin to a tug on a rib. Questioned the—

Visions suddenly flit through Elain’s mind, cascading across her vision and echoing in her ears.

Clock hands striking an hour before midnight, the groaning of wood, the deafening shatter of glass, the loud cries of an infant, the feelings of fear and confusion, panic and anxiety—

And then they were gone as fast as they came.

Elain’s movements slowed to a stop, her hands merely falling to rest on the floured wood surface. More damning visions that haunted her. But these— These were extreme.

The female quickly finished kneading the dough before placing it into a large glass bowl and covering it in order to allow it to rise. She then cleaned her hands at the sink and took off her apron to set aside.

“I’ll be right back.” The twins blinked at one another before giving Elain the okay. She then hurried out of the kitchen, beelining for the nearest bathroom.

Elain closed the bathroom door behind her and took a deep breath, focusing entirely on the intricately designed black and white tiled floor.

Nearly all of Elain’s visions were disturbing in some way. They had always foretold all sorts of things, be they as serious as an attack or as minor as who would show up at the townhouse. Even in her dreams, they plagued her. But this vision had seemed— Elain knew that it foretold something happening within the townhouse. An infant’s cry— Nyx. Baby Nyx.

Not her nephew. Her precious nephew. If any harm came to him, to Feyre, anyone here— She had to tell them, Rhysand and Feyre.

Elain pushed herself off of the rich wood door, stepping forward to look herself over in the mirror. She was a mess, or so she thought to herself.

Her hair was messily braided off to the side, the length of the braid ending at her hip. Her bangs were no better, messy as they were, barely hanging on to where they were tucked behind her pointed ears.

Flour had also somehow ended up dusted on her cheek, though that came as no surprise to her. Such things always happened when she was absorbed into her craft.

She let out a quiet sigh and took a few minutes to clean herself up and look presentable, although she knew she was bound to get messy again, possibly even more so later on.

As soon as they arrived, she’d decided, Elain would let Feyre and Rhysand know what she saw. At the very least, they should know.

Taking one last deep breath to calm herself, she walked back out of the bathroom and returned to the kitchen to continue her work. After all, there was much for her to do. Even if disturbing sights haunted her every move.

~ ~ ~

Read the rest on here (AO3)

Check out my other Elriel oneshot (AO3)

#acotar #elriel #pro elriel #elain archeron #elain x azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #elriel fic #a court of thorns and roses

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marvelmusing · 1 year

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Keep Your Judgement is another masterpiece in the making, and it’s helping me immensely with the stages of my grief 🥲

This tho, I saw and thought…. What if years after marriage, IAL Aleksander has had many conversations about the Reader’s world, including what men of that world wore. For an anniversary, he has Fabrikators create what he understood to be the approximation of said fashion and, voila… i mean, he meant well and all 😅☺️

I’m so in love with every piece of bts content we get, seeing the actors just chilling or messing around while in costume is one of my favourite things

anyways, here’s a little something for you...

New Wardrobe

Featuring IAL!Aleksander x Reader

For a solid five seconds you stare at your husband, not quite comprehending what you are seeing. Whatever words had been half out of your mouth are now forgotten as you stand at the threshold of the former war room after wandering through your bedroom in search of him.

Once your body settles on a reaction, you find yourself pressing your palm to your mouth to stifle your laughter.

“Are- are those sunglasses?” you ask.

Aleksander turns to look at you from where he’s seated at his desk, a pair of shaded glasses perched on his nose as he flashes you a wide smile. At that, you can’t help but turn away to laugh.

With every day you spend living in Ravka, everything here becomes more and more real to you. What was once fantasy is now your normality. But seeing the Darkling wearing sunglasses - indoors - is too amusing and absurd for you to remember that he is also your husband.

A hand against the door frame steadies your folded body as you bend over with your laughter. Every time you push back the amusement, you turn to look at Aleksander, only to continue laughing.

Only when you see him pouting, pushing his chair back to leave, do you manage to somewhat stop yourself.

“No Sasha, love, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you,” you tell him. Moving quickly towards him, you wrap your arms around his middle as you press your forehead against his back. “I promise. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

“Surprised you?” he repeats drily.

“I wasn’t expecting it.” After a small pause, you ask tentatively, “Why are you wearing them inside?”

“I heard you coming and just wanted to show you them.”

“What if I was actually Ivan?” you ask teasingly, imagining the heartrenders face attempting to remain neutral at the sight of Aleksander wearing sunglasses - a previously unheard of accessory in Ravka.

“Ivan would knock on the door, not walk through our bedroom.”

Aleksander pulls the glasses away from his eyes as he turns to face you, finding a fond expression on your face though the amusement still sparkles in your eyes as he places them down on his desk.

Then your gaze falls down to the rest of his outfit. He’s wearing his summer kefta, a lighter fabric than the thick wool of its winter counterpart, and his thin black tunic. The cut of the neckline for both of these articles of clothing is quite low cut, something you particularly enjoy.

But today you spot something underneath, black fabric with a rounded neckline, almost like a t-shirt. Frowning, you look at the rest of him.

“Are you wearing sweatpants?”

He looks away almost sheepishly, brows pulling together slightly in resignation, as if he knows his answer will give you even more entertainment than the sunglasses.

“Perhaps.”

Instead of laughing, you suppress the twitch at the corner of your mouth and slowly slide your hands under the lapels of his kefta, slipping it from his shoulders. He tilts his head aside, watching you as his kefta is draped over the back of his chair by your careful hands.

Unclasping the hidden hooks of his tunic, you reveal the full ensemble he has created. Black t-shirt and black sweatpants. The smile on your face widens, which makes Aleksander sigh as he narrows his eyes at you in warning.

“Still surprised?” he teases, but a pretty pink is dusting its way over his cheekbones.

Seeing Aleksander wearing clothing that had once been so ordinary for you, instead of ornate keftas of silk and wool, sends a thrill through you.

He looks just as handsome as ever and you can’t stop yourself from imagining him in your old world, a charming stranger that you run into one sunny day in a park. Perhaps that’s how you meet in some other reality.

Standing on tiptoe, you place the sunglasses back on his face, smile softening as you press a kiss to his cheek.

“Very surprised.”

#in another life au #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #the darkling au #the darkling x reader #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader #my mutuals (affectionate)#thanks for the ask!#answered asks

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rookthorne · 7 months

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧

The longing for home, for the traditions you had cultivated as you grew into the young woman that you were today, made you troubled. You were confused for how you had missed such a mundane existence, when you had started anew with the monster that lurked in the shadows. It was just lucky, however, that this monster — the one you loved with all of your heart — was a crafty trickster, and he knew just how to bring you cheer on the Eve of Samhain.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𖤐 Monster!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𖤐 2.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𖤐 Light angst, fluff

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 𖤐 For my darling, @vonalyn — you gave me the inspiration for this, and you helped immensely with steering me in the right direction! I hope you enjoy. 💚

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 𖤐 Landing in the Dark by From the Mouth of the Sun 𖤐 Nature Boy (Acoustic) by AURORA 𖤐 The Deep, the Dark by Tamer 𖤐 Nátta by Munknörr

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𖤐 @rookthorne's Fright Night — Masterlist

𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

From the bounds of the forest, you observed the village, the one you once called home. Bright, glowing fires lined the way between thatched cottages and stone walls, while people cheered and danced with one another. It was a glorious celebration – priests and their chanting, the calls for the ancestors to join them.

Each chant filled your bones with the yearning to dance, to take part, but the festivities picked and tore at your heart, for they were celebrating the very thing that kept you, and your other half, at bay.

The rituals were performed as a rite of protection, forcing and warding off spirits and creatures with evil in their hearts. Bucky was no such creature – that you knew, he had taken such blessed care of you, but he dared not venture too close to the village again now that you were within his hold.

There would be no way that he would take the risk of being tracked by foolish hunters.

As a result, the both of you were shunned, forced to live the lives of outcasts — nothing more than the dirt under the villager’s worn shoes.

You sighed heavily, crossing your arms across your chest as the chilled air nipped through your clothes. For days, Bucky had been treating the furs of the wolves he had slaughtered, and he was determined to bring you comfort, the warmth you craved.

There was no way he would be able to keep you close for every passing moment of your time together – he had to hunt and provide, protect his territory and chase off otherworldly beasts to keep you safe. And he insisted that the addition of your own furs would help you feel more at home in his lair.

Suddenly, heavy footfalls crunched the twigs and leaves behind you, but you did not startle. “Hello, Bucky.”

“Lamb, my sweet,” he said quietly, and then you heard the thump of him falling to all fours. “What are you doing all the way out here, are you-”

“I’m fine,” you rushed, interrupting him. “I just–” Blinking, you felt a tear run down your cheek and you hastened to wipe it away. “I do not know.”

Bucky hummed. There was a warmth at your back, and then, white ivory appeared in the corner of your vision. You turned your head slightly to see what he was doing, but you let out a small laugh, instead. Bucky had gone on all fours and daintily rested his chin on your shoulder; ever so careful of his antlers.

The amber glow that had once filled Bucky’s eyes had changed into an icy blue – a reflection of his sorrow. “You are… troubled, little lamb.” Carefully, you placed your palm on the divot by his nose, and you brushed your thumb over the smooth bone. Bucky made a low noise in his throat and leaned into the contact. “What is troubling you?”

“Look,” you whispered, pointing towards the bright flames of the village. “They celebrate making us outcasts. I wish they would understand.” People dressed in the skin of animals flashed underneath the light of the fires. “I wish they understood that they were casting out the real protector.”

“I am only the protector of you, my sweet.” There was a huff of breath, like he was sighing out of frustration. You glanced sideways and caught a pensive glint in his light eyes. “I could not care less for what happens to those that inhabit your old home, not after how they treated you–for centuries, might I add.”

“Still,” you insisted. “It is not something that I am hiding, that I miss it. I miss the thatched cottage I grew up in–the memories.” Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eyes. “I speak the truth. Maybe I am just melancholy–aching for the comforts of my old home.”

“The traditions?” Bucky asked quietly.

You nodded and frowned slightly. “Yes.”

Bucky moved his head from your chin, and stood behind you. “I do not see why we cannot make new ones, Lamb.”

“What do you mean?” The breeze was cold as you turned to face Bucky, brow arched in question. “I do not understand-”

“I wish to make our own traditions–create something that you will enjoy for the years to come,” he explained, tilting his head slightly, as though lost in thought. “It would make you happy, would it not?”

A warmth – a kind of contentment, a feeling unlike any other, filled you. It made your heart, once so ladened and heavy with grief and longing, light once again. You smiled, widely, and looked into his eyes. “It would. It really would. When do we begin?”

Bucky’s mouth opened and his tongue ran along his teeth, the telltale sign of him grinning made your heart soar even higher. “Why not now? We can look for what we need, there will be plenty of things to use amongst the forest floor.” He moved over towards a thick grove of trees. “And I will use my teeth and claws to sharpen whatever you may need.”

“You are awfully excited,” you teased, following him carefully. The forest floor was still unventured territory for you, and you would rather avoid tripping and falling if you could help it.

“And you are sad, my little one. I cannot have that, nor allow it,” Bucky said easily, turning around to lead the way. “Now, come. We have branches to find.”

The venture proved to be more enjoyable than you had expected. You merely had to point at the branches on a dead tree, or to the larger ones that lay strewn over the forest floor, and Bucky would pick them up and place them carefully on his antlers, carrying them the whole way. It was only when both his antlers and arms were full did he turn to you, almost exasperated. “Lamb, I think we have enough.”

You grinned and shook your head, pointing to one of the largest branches with your free hand – the small amount of bounty in your hands heavy. “I want that one, and then we can go back–back home to your lair.”

The fur on the back of Bucky’s neck raised a little at your words, and a shiver went down his spine. “Fine,” he said, huffing. “This is the last one. But I will never tire of hearing you call my lair home.”

“I bet you won’t,” you mumbled. Bucky just growled warningly as you skipped away.

Upon arriving back to Bucky’s lair, you tipped the small bundle of branches in your arms onto the floor, just next to the crackling fire that he kept well stocked for you. “I think… Why don’t I make us chimes? Or, maybe, what about some catchers?”

Bucky walked into his lair, dragging the largest branch behind him. He tipped his head down into the far corner to rid his antlers of his bounty. “You make whatever your heart desires.” A solid thump sounded next to you, and you looked over at him – he was laying on the earth of his lair, looking up at you.

The teeth on the sides of his elongated face shone with spit, and you watched, transfixed, as Bucky ran his tongue over his front fangs. “Would you stop that?” you asked, indignant.

“Whatever do you mean?” he hummed, but he stopped all the same, and he eyed the larger branches. “Would you like me to–?”

“Yes, please,” you affirmed, glancing over at them. “That would be very helpful.” Bucky rose again and got to work, sharpening the branches into points with his claws and teeth.

For hours, you sat by the fire and whittled a couple of catchers while Bucky finished working on all of the larger branches. It was a companionable, comfortable silence between the two of you.

“Lamb, sweet,” Bucky said quietly, and you looked up from your lap towards him, to find he was already staring at you. “When I was young, I shed like any buck would. Since I was a beast that was hunted, I kept what I lost–lugging it around with me so no hunter could track me.”

You tilted your head, curious at where Bucky was taking this story.

“And, over the aeons–the centuries, I have amassed quite a collection of old antlers and fangs,” he gestured to the impressive extensions, the few of many weapons at his disposal. “Would you–I mean, if you would want it, I can give you these parts of me to interweave with your creations. They would still have magic after all these years; they would add layers of protection.”

“Oh, Bucky,” you gasped, hand over your heart. The implication of interweaving parts of your other half would no doubt bear an unrivalled amount of protection.

“It will also make me happy if I were to see what you have created out there, parts of you and parts of me interlocked in something of beauty.” He looked down and flexed his hands; his claws shone like refined obsidian with the firelight. “Something you could be proud of–and part of.”

You rose from your spot by the fire and walked over to Bucky, eyes soft and kind. Without an inkling of hesitation, you took the sides of Bucky’s face in your hands, mindful of his teeth, and tilted his head up so you could stare into his eyes. “I would not love anything more.”

“Lamb,” he breathed, and his hand ever so gently cupped yours, the claws kissing your skin. “Oh, how I adore you.”

“It is nothing compared to how much I adore you,” you replied. Tilting his head down a little, you bent and placed a soft kiss between his eyes.

The moon set beyond the horizon a few hours later. Bucky had encouraged you to work away at your creations until you had a round dozen, and he pledged to walk you through the forest, offering to help place the grounds of protection that you had created for your home.

It was a brisk morning and you shuddered as you followed right behind Bucky, careful to stay on the path he was creating with his bulk through the brushes and thickets of brambles. “We are not far now,” he said quietly.

You huffed and looked at his antlers, where the last two chimes hung, ready to be placed. “I should make you some for your antlers,” you mused aloud.

Bucky looked at you sharply and rolled his eyes. “I draw the line there, Lamb. I need them free so I can protect you; protect us. There is also no way that I would risk destroying something you have made for me.”

“Fine,” you sighed. “Still, I am going to.”

There was silence after your proclamation, and you smirked, victorious – you knew he would give in.

“We are here,” Bucky said abruptly, and you ran into his back with a grunt of surprise. “Where would you like it, sweet?”

You looked around, adjusting the shawl over your shoulders for warmth. “How about,” you wondered aloud, looking at the tall pines surrounding you. There was a patch of space between a set of two pines, and a bare branch stuck out at an odd angle – if it were placed there, it would glint in the sun at midday. “Up there! It looks safe.”

Bucky followed your gaze and nodded once. ��A fine choice, Lamb.” He stretched up a hand to his antlers and plucked the chime that had his fangs woven into the fibres, before he placed it carefully on the branch. The momentum made the chimes clink and shimmer in the stream of sunlight that suddenly appeared. “It is beautiful. Now, for the last one.”

The two of you set off once more, this time towards a clearing in the distance. Sounds and whispers echoed around you, the harsh sounds making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, and you placed a hand on Bucky’s fur to ground yourself. “You are safe, sweet. I swear,” he murmured, slowing his pace. “It is just the forest spirits, it is Samhain–they are more mischievous than any other, you know they must investigate any being that passes.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still resting a hand on Bucky’s fur. “I trust you.”

Bucky’s hand brushed over your hair and down your back, a slight purr emanating from his chest. “Why don’t we find the last spot and then head home? You will need to sleep soon, Lamb.”

You nodded and looked around. The trees of this clearing seemed to be teeming with life, an unknown type of magic tinged the air, as well. A pine to your left bore the same qualities as the last, and for some reason, that singular tree felt more friendly. “Why not up there?”

“I like it, sweets–come,” Bucky said quietly, and you followed him, of only a little hesitantly. “I would like you to place it. What do you think?”

“Me? How, I am on-” A gasp of shock interrupted your protest and your feet left the air.

“I will help you, little one,” Bucky whispered, and he moved you through the air with such care you barely even felt the wind on your face. “Place it where you wish.”

With the utmost sense of caution, you carefully placed the twine over the branch of the tree, and it shuddered. You almost gasped with fear when a small face peered out from behind the foliage – a forest pixie. “Oh, my goodness,” you whispered. “I am so sorry-”

“Edna,” Bucky said suddenly, looking over your shoulder. “Hello, my friend.”

The miniscule creature spoke, but there were no words, only small huffs and puffs of breath, followed by tiny squeaks.

“How kind, thank you,” Bucky said softly, lowering you down gently to your feet. “We will leave you be. It was wonderful to see you again.”

Bucky urged you on, his hand never leaving your back as he walked a little ahead of you. “Who was that–what was that? And what did they say?”

“That was Edna–a forest guardian, a small but mighty creature. You never want to find yourself on the bad side of one of them,” he explained. The trail back home was familiar to you in parts, so Bucky slacked to walk on all fours. “She was saying to me that your chime was beautiful, and she adored it–very happy to have it as part of her tree.”

“Her tree?” you questioned. “Is that why that one felt–I mean, looked friendlier?”

Bucky nodded and looked at you. “Yes, and she has promised to return the favour. We may have guests soon.”

You blinked. “Oh, boy.”

“Do not worry,” Bucky teased, and he gently bumped your shoulder with his. “I will help you. You will become a natural–the language is not hard, Lamb. I promise.”

“If you say so,” you murmured. The sense of excitement for meeting a new creature, a possible friend, lit a fire within you – it was quite lonely in the woods, though you loved Bucky’s company, but a friend would never be amiss. Not if they loved your chimes, you decided.

And, with that, you resolved to spend your time perfecting your craft – as well as making Bucky fetch more branches. Just to spite the devil, you laughed inwardly.

who loves the idea of lil' forest friends? 🥹

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #rookthorne's works

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salemshotspot · 5 days

Text

THEIR HEARTBREAK KID

Shawn Michaels x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

DESC: Shawn punishes his partner

Gender neutral reader [they/them]

WARNINGS: implied smut//spanking//shouting//not proof read//I think there’s a swear word but I can’t remember//degrading [the word brat.]

A/N >> IM SO SO SORRY THIS IS AWFUL.

TAGS: @azeliashorridstuff902 @simpin4pixels

Enjoy!

——————————————————————————

Ever since y/n and Shawn met, Shawn had the more dominant energy of the two; in every aspect of his life he was always confident and found pleasure in taking charge, which is why it didn’t surprise y/n when Shawn wanted to introduce ‘unconventional’ practices into their relationship. Shawn has always believed in strict discipline in order to ensure continued good behaviour which is why Shawn has took it upon himself to ensure that his lovely y/n gets the disciplining they need when they break a rule which Shawn has only put in place ‘with their best interest at heart.’

A recent rule which Shawn had put in place for y/n was they had to cut down on the amount of energy drinks they have because quite frankly it was becoming a problem; Thursday had rolled around and y/n had already had their weekly allowance of energy drinks and they were craving another one, one more couldn’t hurt right? It was a victimless crime as Shawn was going to be out later than usual as he had a meeting at work. This was enough to convince y/n to go over to the fridge and grab their favourite energy drink before taking it back over the to couch to continue watching whatever happened to be on.

‘This is nice’ y/n thought to themself, but of course nothing nice lasts forever, they were about half way through their drink when they heard the sound of a key being inserted into the front door echo through the house and before they could even think about trying to hide their drink they heard Shawn’s voice excitedly shout throughout the house.

‘Y/n I’m home, the meeting didn’t run over for as long as I thought-‘

Shawn stopped in the door way and furrowed his eyebrows at his partner as his eyes darted between the can set on the table, seemingly sweating from the condensation dripping down the side of the can, and his partner who seemed to be mimicking the can with a bead of sweat trickling down the side of their head.

As y/n grabbed for the can in an attempt to hide what Shawn had already seen, he stepped further into the room and, in an assertive tone, Shawn said to y/n ‘don’t bother.’

Shawn was willing to overlook this misdemeanour on account of the fact that he had a more than fine day at work and he knows everybody makes mistakes; he was ready to completely ignore y/n's disobedience in favour of a simple conversation.

‘Y/n’ Shawn started, ‘we need to talk about you and your disobedience’ he continued.

However Shawn’s problem of constantly appearing angry and disappointed mixed with y/n’s pride was never going to be ideal. Y/n felt a combination of both embarrassment and guilt from betraying and being caught by Shawn caused them to immediately grow defensive.

‘I’m an adult Shawn I can make my own decisions’ they snapped back at the older man, causing him to accusingly raise an eyebrow at his partner.

In a voice more dominant than a moment earlier Shawn replies ‘watch your tone y/n and remember who-‘ Shawn couldn’t even finish his sentence before y/n abruptly stood up and practically shouted ‘I’m not a child Shawn.'

With that y/n stormed into their shared bedroom and locked the door to hide the shame they felt, y/n was overcome with immense shame, they don’t know why they shouted at their boyfriend but they were too embarrassed to apologise to Shawn right now, they just needed some time alone.

‘Brat’ Shawn muttered to himself before sighing in both confusion and worry about their partner before attempting to open the bedroom door.

Shawn loudly knocked on the bedroom door and began speaking once again; ‘y/n you’re going to open this door now’ waiting for his partner to do as he says, however upon hearing no response his demeanour changed, it softened for a brief moment.

‘..baby’ he began. L

Before Shawn could continue y/n reluctantly opened the door, shrinking away from the older man, feeling guilty. Relieved they were ok, Shawn gently pulled them closer and placed a gentle kiss on their head, before relief could wash over y/n, Shawn stated in a low register.

‘Somebody’s attitude is in need of fixing isn’t it sweetheart?’ causing y/n to frown.

Shawn smirks; ‘don’t get shy on me now darlin’ that won’t work on me’ before leading them over to the couch and sitting down, leaving y/n stood anxiously before him.

Y/n knew what was coming, that didn’t stop their eyes widening in fear and it certainly didn’t stop them from biting their lip in anticipation as Shawn beckoned for them to lay their frame over his unnervingly inviting lap.

Once y/n had lay on Shawn’s lap he grabbed their hands and stretched them out in front of his partner before taunting ‘are you going to behave and keep those arms there like a good brat hm?’ to which y/n shyly nod, causing Shawn to smirk.

Shawn gently rubbed his hand down his partner’s back until he reached their coveted ass, to which he raised an eyebrow before, admittedly roughly, ripping the fabric, causing y/n to whimper as their bare behind was exposed to the cold air.

Shawn made a mental note to buy his partner some new pants before smugly mocking their reaction to the swift temperature change; ‘are you cold brat? Well let me warm you up.’ Shawn announces before striking their left cheek, causing y/n to wince from the sensation of shock and pain, causing their hands to desperately grab at the couch cushion.

Striking the same spot again, Shawn’s voice bellows across the house ‘you know what you did to deserve this punishment don’t you.’ Y/n took too long to answer, prompting Shawn to strike the untouched cheek hard.

‘A-ahh’ y/n whined loudly 'yes Shawn.’

Shawn swiftly lowered his head to his partner’s ear ‘use your words brat and this time use my name’ he spat the words down their ear canal.

Already throbbing from their punishment, y/n didn’t want to provoke Shawn to upgrade his punishment ‘I’m sorry sir’ they started ‘i’m sorry I disobeyed you.’

As y/n spoke Shawn gently rubbed their throbbing right cheek only to strike it once they stopped speaking.

‘What else’ Shawn barked.

Upon feeling Shawn’s usually gentle hand assault their cheek y/n instinctively attempted to crawl off of Shawn’s lap only for Shawn to grab their legs to hold them in place, striking them again to punish their Insubordination.

‘Don’t you dare brat.’

Whimpering at the sensation y/n continued ‘..and I’m sorry I gave you attitude, I was just upset I upset you’ they said in a whisper.

This revelation caused Shawn’s heart to momentarily sink, he hated seeing them upset but he couldn’t back out of the punishment now. His demeanour once again momentarily softened ‘good baby we’re nearly done, for each energy drink you’ve had this week, each cheek gets a spank.’

Y/n nodded defeatedly and braced for impact before Shawn continued.

‘Count out loud for me brat, I want to hear you learn your lesson’ Shawn says as he brings his hand down to y/n’s left cheek.

‘One’ they choke out.

With the same force Shawn smacks his hand down; ‘two’ y/n says in a tearful whisper.

‘Three’ y/n yelps as Shawn relentlessly uses his hand to make their cheeks glow.

‘F-four’ y/n cries.

‘Five’ they say with a gulp before Shawn moves over to the right cheek.

‘You’re doing so good for me baby, you’re nearly there’ Shawn says, his breathe hot on y/n’s ear.

Y/n blushes, the prospect of their punishment nearly being over mixed with the pain turning to pleasure causes them to forget to continue counting for Shawn.

‘Don’t make me change my mind y/n I can start again without a blink of the eye.

‘S-sorry sir, one’ they practically shout, causing Shawn to smirk at their desperation.

Another strike to the raw cheek has y/n crying, ‘two’ they whimper.

Shawn decides to pick up the pace, the next two strikes coming in quick succession; ‘thre- four.’

Biting his lip at the sight of his whimpering partner’s raw, inviting ass, Shawn strikes them for a final time, through hitched breathe they cry out ‘five.’

With the final strike, Shawn delicately pulls his partner up to sit them on his knee, the feeling of their their throbbing behind coming in contact with Shawn’s knee causing them to yelp and Shawn to softly chuckle.

Upon feeling pain surge through them y/n instinctively buries their face into the crook Shawn's neck, desperately seeking comfort. Shawn pulls them closer and whispers into their ear ‘I hate having to hurt you sweetheart, why don’t you let me make it up to you baby, don’t think I didn’t notice the heat growing between your legs as I smacked it into my thigh.’

Y/n blushed burying their face further into Shawn’s neck, they nodded at his suggestion and softly spoke against his neck.

‘My heartbreak kid.’

#shawn michaels x reader #shawn michaels #hbk #heartbreakkid #heart break kid #heartbreak kid #hbk x reader #heartbreak kid x reader #wwe #wwe imagine #wwf x reader #wwe x reader #wwe oneshot #90s wwf #wwf superstars #wwf

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pars-ley · 1 year

Text

Make it move

Pairing: Idol Jimin x female reader

Summary: Being the girlfriend of an idol definitely had its perks, but witnessing the choreography for their new song first hand was a big one.

Genres: Idol au / established relationship / smut / fluff / drabble

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Warnings: adorable Jimin, like too cute for words / run bts jimin / steamy elevator scene / clitoral stimulation / heavy kissing / a little grinding / talks of a strip tease /

W/c: 1.7k

Beta: @pjmparadise thank you!

Banner: @jinsquishes it’s perfect thank you!

Notes: I started this after the Run BTS choreography video came out and I was inspired. Possibly, I might be thinking of making a part two inspired by Jimin’s iconic ‘filter’ performance, if you would like me to, let me know in the comments.

Jimin led you by the hand to the studio, his fingers entwined with yours pulling you along excitedly and leaving you jogging to keep up with him.

The dance studio was full of people, dancers, and staff; your name being called loudly in chorus drew your attention. As the guys all ran over, you were encased in six warm hugs and relished their loving grip. It had been too long since you’d seen them all together.

"Yoongi, your hair!" You reach up and touch the ends, shocked by the length and the way he wore it; the half-up, half-down hairstyle really suits him.

"You like it?" He asks, with that cute gummy smile and slight pink to his cheeks.

"I love it! You look very handsome, more so than usual." You wink playfully, sensing Jimin's eyes on you as the words leave your mouth.

"Ah," he wines at your side. "Don't tell him that."

You laugh, cupping his face. "Don't worry. No one compares to you." Leaning in and kissing him on the corner of his lips and enjoying the sight of his cheeks flushing, and he can't contain the immense grin spread across his face.

Taehyung’s arms are around your waist, interrupting the moment and sweeping you up in the air, and spinning you in a circle. You can’t help the giggle that escapes. "Where have you been?" He asked, setting you back down.

"I know it's been too long; working and studying have been kicking my ass." His hands find yours, and you squeeze them.

"You know what they say, all work and no play…" he twirls you around fast before giving you another tight hug.

"And that's exactly why I'm here."

"Well, in that case, let's get you a front-row seat to the show." He calls out.

"Hey Tae, can I have this jacket when you're done with it?" You play with the fringe design on the black leather.

Beaming at you, he replies. "How can I say no to Jimin's girl?"

"I'm just kidding!" You give him a playful nudge with your elbow.

There was a shout to get into positions, and the boys run off waving to you.

"Come, sit down." Jimin leads you to a chair at the front and centre of their grouping, kissing you on the cheek before running off to take his position with the rest of the guys. Your hands wring nervously in your lap at the idea of watching this new routine; you knew you'd love it, that was a given, but nevertheless, your stomach turns with anticipation.

With everyone in position, the music starts.

You recognise the song immediately, your favourite out of the new ones they did for their last album, Run BTS. Leaning forward on the edge of your seat a little more, anticipating the routine with your fingers clinging to the edge of your seat.

The complex choreography and the teaming of the backup dancers were definitely impressive, it looked like one of the more complicated dance routines they had done.

When Jimin comes into your view, dancing with Jungkook, of course, you can't keep your eyes off him; not only was the way he moved through the steps mesmerising, but also his choice of top. Every so often, his grey crop jumper would ride up enough for you to have a glimpse of his abs. The sight was enough to have you squeeze your legs together to ease the throbbing between your thighs. With every jump in the routine, the jumper would lift, teasing you to what was underneath, to what you currently couldn’t run your hands along.

When the music stops, your body still vibrates wildly from the thrum of your pounding heart.

Jimin came running over to you, eyes bright with excitement and breathing hard, but he managed to gasp out, "So, what did you think?" Leaning down toward you with his hands on his knees.

You bite your lower lip, wondering how to answer when all you can think of is peeling that sweaty jumper off him, clinging to him like you longed to.

"Didn't you like it?" A frown marring his beautiful face upsets you, not realising how long you're taking to answer.

"Are you kidding? I loved it. It's perfect." You shift in your seat to try and ease the painful ache between your legs. "You are perfect."

He seems to search your eyes, confusion wrinkling his brow. "What's on your mind?"

You sit on the edge of your seat, legs crossed tightly and hands squeezed tightly together. "You."

You watch as understanding falls across his soft features and heat sparks in his eyes.

"Take me somewhere?" Your voice, husky and thick with desire made it sound like a question, it was anything but. The urgency you feel must have transcended into your voice because he takes your hand and pulls you hastily out of the room.

You didn't even glance at the boys or wave goodbye, your only focus is Jimin.

Your skin is hot and tingling at the prospect of being touched by him, and the sensation is almost suffocating, leaving you unable to think about anything else as Jimin drags you hastily down the hall to the elevator. He smashes the button repeatedly until the doors ding open.

Once inside, he was on you; full, delicious lips on yours, the slight taste of sweat as you explored his mouth with your tongue. Your lips glide together like silk, and when you gently suck his bottom lip into your mouth, he groans against you, the sound arousing you further. His hands were on your face and sliding down your body, fingers running through your hair, they were everywhere all at once, urgent and desperate, and yet, it still wasn’t enough. Your hands went up under his jumper, instantly slick with his sweat as they travelled along his hard abs and chest, gliding around to his strong back, causing fresh arousal to pool in your underwear.

He backs you against the mirrored wall as you feel his hands slide down the backs of your thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake before abruptly pulling them out from under you and lifting you off the ground. You tighten your legs around his waist as his fingers explore along the underneath of your thighs, travelling up below your skirt. You almost jolt when you feel his feather light touch reach the edge of your panties, fingertips skating across the arousal seeping through the thin material.

“Oh baby,” he gasps with surprise against your mouth. “Tell me what you need.”

His lips travel down your neck, the throbbing between your legs becoming unbearable.

“I need you inside me.”

He smirks, gorgeous lips twisting sexily in a lopsided smile, knowing his power and fully ready to use it. “Should I tease you?” he wasn’t asking; he had already made up his mind.

“Please, Jimin. I don’t think I can take it.” You writhe against him, unable to stop yourself, the desperation obvious.

“Hmmm,” he thrusts up against you, his erection concealed by his jeans, hitting you in the place you were quivering with need. A loud moan escapes your lips, his name falling out too somewhere. The prickle of sweat forming at the back of your neck, feeling too hot and aware of too many layers against your skin, now yearning to be free. His fingertips skate over the slick material covering your overly sensitive bud, and your stomach tightens. You were already so close, so eager to feel the ecstasy take over your body. You rotate your hips against his fingers as he traces gentle but fast circles against your clit.

“Baby, you are so needy tonight. Is this what watching me dance does to you, hm?” He whispers against your neck.

You nod, barely registering his words as you feel the tightness growing, ready to snap.

Chasing the high, the most sinful sounds leave you, singing loudly and personally serenading Jimin.

"Yes, don't stop. Don't stop." You gasp out as your body finally gives out, legs tightening around him as pleasure hits you, rendering you blind with white light as wave after wave of bliss rides through you. He kisses you gently while you unravel, your core pulsing hard around nothing.

Your thumping heart begins to return to normal as some semblance of relief and satisfaction hits, albeit very briefly, but it sates you enough to think straight again.

“That’s got to be a record for you, no?” He asks you, that smug look returning.

Laughing and shaking your head as he releases your legs and places your feet back on the ground. “Clearly, I really like watching you dance.”

Excitement glitters darkly in his eyes as he adjusts his erection, tucking it into the waistband of his jeans. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely.”

He takes your hand and entwines his fingers with yours again, kissing the back of your hand and tucking some stray strands of hair behind your ears as he strokes your cheeks with the back of his fingertips. Before coming in close and placing a tender kiss against your lips.

“Maybe I’ll give you a private dance when we get back home.” He winks at you playfully, but he’s planted the seed. All you could envision was him giving you the most sensual performance you could possibly imagine, just for your eyes, and fresh arousal seeps into your underwear. Squeezing your legs together to try and get some relief from your already throbbing sex. Jimin raises an eyebrow at your lip-biting and cheeks heating with a dusting of pink.

“I have a request.” you say thoughtfully.

“Anything.” His eyes scream desperation, almost as much as yours do.

“Wear your ‘FIlter’ suit?” you bite your lip, suddenly shy to ask for something you’ve wanted for quite some time.

His devastatingly handsome smirk answers your request as does the glint of darkness flashing across his eyes. “The red or purple?”

Oh god, how could you decide, you didn’t care, just the thought of him in either suit was enough to make you groan out loud.

He laughs, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you and you already knew he would not end your suffering anytime soon. Your heart pounds so hard you can hear it echo in your ears; all you can do is try to keep up as your stomach flips with anticipation. The look of desperation mirrors in his eyes as he pulls you from the elevator as soon as the doors open and whisks you out, pulling you with the promise of everything you need and more than you could have wished for.

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cherpot · 20 days

Text

Blushes & Buttons

A TADC fic made with headcanons from @srrycomet and I!! Enjoy!

“Thanks for sticking with us through the funeral, Pomni.” Ragatha walked next to her friend, palms clasped in front of her. The taunting funhouse hall of bedrooms stretched on before them, seeming endless to Pomni.

Pomni looked up to meet Ragatha’s eye, offering a half smile. “No problem.” She made another small offer of a thumbs up. “Thanks for, uh… Inviting me?”

Ragatha smiled, but it wasn’t a fully whole gesture. Silence settled over them, and Pomni found herself itching with a need to break it. Ragatha wasn’t herself, and that needed to be fixed. Quickly.

“I’m… sorry about your friend. Ragatha.” The other woman’s name was added to Pomni’s apology as an afterthought. Pomni found that using the other humans’ names made her unreal situation seem, unfortunately, more real. It solidified the horror around her.

But Ragatha was the opposite of horrifying. And if any of this was to be real, Pomni hoped it would be her.

“I know I didn’t know anything about him,” Pomni continued, “but it seems like you guys cared for him a lot. And…” She sighed as the two came to a slow stop in front of Pomni’s bedroom door. “I’m sorry.”

Ragatha sighed too, a shaky breath that sounded like a dam shuddering under the immense weight of a flood. “Thanks, Pomni.” She smiled again, a little bigger this time. “You’re sweet.” Pomni, impossibly, found herself blushing. Blushing because a ragdoll said she was sweet. The whole thing should have been crazy. It was crazy. Yet it was the only thing that didn’t feel crazy.

And, Pomni realized, Ragatha’s cheeks were turning pink too.

No way, she thought, as she saw tiny red stitches appear on Ragatha’s face. Thick pink yarn danced across her cheeks in a zigzag stitch that Pomni couldn’t look away from. That blush was an accent on an embroidered masterpiece, and it was impossibly sweet.

A disbelieving chuckle escaped Pomni’s throat. “Hey, uh… anytime. I just…” She let out a breath. “I hate to see you feeling down.” She wondered if that was an odd thing to say to someone she’d just met, and under horrific circumstances, no less. But she had to try and help. “If you need anything, you can tell me, okay?”

Ragatha’s expression faltered, to Pomni’s horror. And… was that a detail in Ragatha’s stitching Pomni hadn’t seen before? No, she realized with a jolt. It’s a tear.

A tiny blue button had appeared in the corner of her eye, and it fell down her cheek and onto the floor. Stunned, Pomni watched as Ragatha’s hand flew to her mouth in dismay. Another blue tear welled up in her eye, falling out as if from an overstuffed pouch. It, too, plummeted to the floor, and a few more quickly joined. Button after button streamed from Ragatha’s eyes.

Pomni was never sure how to handle people crying. Laughter was something she knew better, something she could participate in with joy, or something she could use to settle herself when things felt uncertain.

Something to mask her fear with.

Fear seemed worse when coming from Ragatha, Pomni found. Already stunned into a panic, Pomni whipped her gaze around to follow the paths of the few buttons that had cascaded to the ground. They clicked off the hard tile, the sound almost teasing, and rolled away where Pomni couldn’t see them.

“I-I’m sorry, Pomni!” Ragatha wailed, and more tears fell from her eyes. The pink stitches on her cheeks seemed to grow darker in hue. “I tried to hold it in, I really did!” Her breath caught in her throat, creating a little sob that Pomni couldn’t take.

“I-It’s fine!” Pomni insisted, clearly floundering. “Just hang on! I’ll take care of it!” Finally, she settled on what was likely the worst course of action: she dove for the nearest button as it bounced along the hall. Giving up on it quickly, she whirled around to swipe for another button, which slipped just out of her grasp.

“I’ll clean it up, don’t worry!” Pomni turned her attention to the floor, dropping to pick up the little buttons that were rolling every which way. “Don’t worry about a thing, okay?!” she insisted, her voice dripping in brittle yet ironic tension.

For a long moment, Pomni scrambled to pick up every button in her vicinity. She wobbled along on knees, in apparent denial of how pointless her actions were as she dropped each button into her gloved palm.

“I think I almost got 'em all! Don’t panic! Don’t-“

Pomni snapped her gaze back to Ragatha in surprise. Her sobs had gone staccato, lighter in sound and undeniably musical. Those sounds were no longer sobs at all; she was laughing.

Straightening her back, Pomni sat back on her heels, still awkwardly holding a handful of buttons. “Uh…”

Ragitha laughed in an impossible way: delicately, yet with her whole heart. Her lips were hidden behind one hand, as if protecting her smile. Eyes squeezed shut, her shoulders lightly shook.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Pomni!” Ragatha laughed, leaning. “You just looked so…” A fresh wave of laughter washed over her, and the tide sucked Pomni in forever.

Letting out an uncertain chuckle, Pomni set the buttons in a careful pile on the floor; only one rolled away. She rose to her feet, and the feeling of a heartbeat returned to her for the first time since she’d arrived.

The withered spot in her chest where her heart used to be was, impossibly, blooming.

Pomni stood before her new friend, fidgeting her nervous hands. “Well… I guess I made you feel better?” Somehow, it just made Ragatha laugh again.

Okay, Pomni thought, I could get used to this.

“Y’know… You’re really something, Pomni.” Ragatha giggled, sighing out the rest of her laughter. “Thanks for that.”

A genuine smile twitched at the corner of Pomni’s mouth. “You’re welcome,” she murmured. She was relieved to see Ragatha’s face free of tears and sadness. If she could keep it that way, she would. Even if it was an accident again.

Pomni faltered then, realizing Ragatha’s face wasn’t tear-free after all. A tiny blue button was caught on her friend’s stitching, right below her eye. “Oh-“ Automatically, Pomni reached for her, and didn’t stop herself until the last second.

“You’ve got an, uhm…” A button? A tear? Pomni was unsure what to call it, instead tapping her own cheek to point it out. “Can I grab it?”

“Oh!” Ragatha nodded, leaning forward slightly. Those pink, blushing stitches on her cheeks were still present, and there seemed to be more of them. Swallowing her nerves, Pomni reached out and gently plucked the button from between Ragatha’s stitches.

It came free suddenly and sharply, taking Pomni by surprise. “D-Did that hurt?”

“No, no!” Ragatha blurted, waving her hands as if to clear Pomni’s worry from the air. “Not at all. It was nice.” She seemed to be frantic all of a sudden, waving her hand again with more urgency. “I mean, it was nice of you to do that!”

Pomni wondered if the only thing that stood between her and abstraction was another glimpse of that blush.

“What I mean is…” Ragatha puffed out her cheeks and sighed, shaking her head.

Pomni’s heart fluttered.

“Thanks for being here.” Ragatha smiled.

Pomni smiled back.

#digital circus #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc pomni #tadc ragatha #ragapom #one shot #tadc fanfiction #pomni is a dork #and ragatha needs a hug

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itsjustbell · 11 months

Text

Set in Stone

Prologue

Viktor x artist!reader (reader is low-key a self insert but aren't they all?)

Summary: To commemorate the success and completion of the Hex Gates, Councilor Merdarda has decided to commission an up-and-coming artist to sculpt a statue of Jayce and Viktor.

Warnings: none

A sea of shuttering lights blinded Viktor almost completely as he struggled to maintain his best attempt at a “winning smile”. The urge to turn away and shield himself from the cameras was strong, but he fought against it. He didn’t want to be confronted with his scrunched up visage in the newspaper tomorrow: “Co-founder of Hextech shown sneering at unveiling of the new Hexgates.” Jayce would never let him live that down if he became the new shining headline for Piltover’s press. This was supposed to be a joyous occasion for the two of them. The news of the new gates would surely bring in a lot more investors, which meant more funding, which meant better equipment and more amenities to further their research. Gods forbid history look back at him as being disgruntled– no, ungrateful, at the event of their success. So Viktor smiled and waved against the onslaught of camera flash.

It seemed years before Councilor Merdarda appeared once more in all her gilded glory to say a few words before leading them offstage. Viktor’s face immediately dropped as soon as they were out of sight. His cheeks hurt immensely, even more so as he tried to wrangle them back into some state of normality.

“I was starting to think my face would become paralyzed,” He said, holding his jaw. Jayce clapped his shoulder with a hearty laugh.

“It’s a sign you should smile more then!” Viktor rolled his eyes, a more natural smiling snaking its way onto his face. He didn’t expect Merdarda to comment as well.

“Perhaps you should,” She chimed, “I imagine the press will be swarming you both for a while after this.”

She stopped in her tracks as some assistant of hers gave her a clipboard of papers to look at. She flipped through them half-heartedly before giving her signature and handing them back.

“Not to mention, there’ll be a lot more ‘smiling and waving’ at tonight’s gala. I do hope you’ll both be joining us. It’s in your honor, after all.”

If her tone was anything to go by, the two didn’t have much of a choice. He hoped his discontent wasn’t obvious on his face. Parties were never his forte, let alone the formal, lavish ones that the councilor seemed to enjoy. Jayce looked at him knowingly.

“This’ll be good for us, Vik, relax.” He wished he could share in Jayce’s optimism.

“Good indeed, there’ll be investors from all over and enough food and drink to fill your… tiny scholar stomachs for the next month,” she added, “I’m sure you’ll find a way to enjoy yourselves.”

“Well, if we can get more funding, I’m sure this night will prove worthwhile,” Viktor sighed. He supposed he might as well make the most of the night. It wasn’t often that one got invited to one of these after all, let alone had one hosted in their honor, as much as he despised them.

“It’s all business with you, isn’t it?” Merdarda remarked. Viktor shrugged. Jayce chuckled almost awkwardly next to him.

“We’ll be there. Thank you again, councilor.”

“Please, just Mel is fine, we’ll be working together more I presume after all. No need for formalities.” She smiled.

Viktor had an inkling that was directed more so at Jayce than himself. He didn’t like the idea of getting ‘chummy’ with Piltover elites.

Her gaze pricked up at the sound of her name being called.

“Duty calls,” she said, dusting her dress. “See you boys later.”

And with a lingering hand on Jayce’s shoulder, she was gone.

It was going to be a long night.

- ⧫⧫⧫ -

Viktor tugged on the collar of his shirt absentmindedly. Combined with the overwhelming crowd of people, laughing and boozing, it felt suffocating. He’d long since tuned out of the conversation Jayce was having with some potential investor, mind wandering instead to how many tiles were on the floor or how feathers seemed to have reached the height of fashion amongst the higher echelons of society.

He didn’t mind at all letting Jayce take control of the conversation. Even though he was chided for being all “business”, Jayce seemed to be a natural at it. He supposed his familial background had something to do with that. Besides, all the investors seemed to gravitate naturally to Jayce anyway. Once he said his little introductory spiel about what Hextech had to offer, they seemed to forget he was even there… he tried not to think too much about how his own background played into that.

He didn’t care much for the opinions of uppity politicians, anyway. If they didn’t want to talk to him, fine. He was happy enough to use Jayce as a social buffer whilst he sipped glasses of whatever sparkling wine the waiters walked by with. Merdarda hadn’t lied, the refreshments indeed flowed freely and the hors d’oeuvres were impeccably plentiful. Oh, speak of the devil—

“Apologies, Mr. Windsor. Do you mind if I steal these two for a moment?”

And there she was, dressed in shimmering black. It seemed the feather trend had reached even to her. Her gown reminded him of the crows he used to see on the outer parts of Zaun, where the smog was not as thick, with their almost oil slickened iridescence. He was sure Jayce was enjoying the view it provided of her bosom. From the corner of his eye, it almost seemed like this Windsor fellow was as well.

Not one to argue with a councilor, Mr. Windsor didn’t have any problem making himself scarce.

“You needed something?” Jayce asked. Viktor noted how his chest puffed slightly now that she had her attention on them.

“I have someone I want you both to meet.” She said, already walking into the crowd.

Soon, Viktor found himself standing at the entrance of one of the many balconies that lined the upper floors of the building. Leaning on its railing was a young woman, who’s clothes, though elegant, seemed simple when compared to the extravagance of those in the main ballroom. It was almost refreshing to see a lack of feathers.

Merdarda tapped you on the arm to get your attention, before corralling you towards them with an arm behind your back.

“I’d like you to meet the talented Madam Brisbois,” She beamed at the young lady. “She works in the Art and Design branch of the academy. I’ve decided to put her skills to use.” Viktor exchanged a look with Jayce.

“I wasn’t aware the academy even had an Art branch,” Jayce said.

“I-it’s a very small branch,” you said with a quiet laugh. Merdarda hummed in amusement.

“To commemorate the success of the gates, I’ve commissioned her to craft a statue of you two to be placed in the academy.”

A statue? That was a first.

“Oh wow, thank you, Mel, I don’t know what to say.” Jayce said.

“Yes, it is… far too kind of you, Councilor,”

“Oh please, you act as if you boys haven’t made history!” She laughed. “I’ll be leaving you to discuss details, I have other matters to attend to now.”

Of course, she did.

…

“So,” Jayce began. “How do these things usually go?”

You chuckled awkwardly, “Well to begin, I’d like to… shadow you while you work if that’s alright— to help understand how you two interact.”

Jayce looked at him. He shrugged. He couldn’t really find any reason against it.

“I don’t see why not, though I can’t guarantee there’ll be anything interesting happening.”

“Yes, you’ve caught us at a bit of a lull in work. We’ll mostly be working out the next steps for Hextech.” Viktor added. You waved a hand in the air as if to dissuade worry.

“Just getting the chance to work with you is more than interesting enough. I still can’t believe the Councilor has even asked me to do this!” You laughed nervously, before clearing your voice.

“Sorry, um, where are my manners?” You held out a hand for them to shake. “I look forward to working with you— or well your likenesses that is.”

For the first time of the night, Viktor found himself laughing as well. Even if it was more of a short puff of air than anything else. Jayce clasped your hand loudly with a firm shake. “We look forward to working with you, too. I’ve never worked with an artist before.”

“Yes,” Viktor said, shifting his weight on his cane. “ It’ll be interesting to see how this turns out.”

Interesting indeed.

#arcane viktor x you #viktor x reader #Viktor x you #Viktor x artist!reader #Set in Stone #I was so nervous to post this like omg #This is going to be my first multichapter fic #the idea has been swimming around in my head ever since i had the idea on my art blog #art by me #I'm planning this to be a slowburn but we'll see how it goes #can't guarantee a consistent update schedule cuz im just like that #I also can’t guarantee art with every chapter

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babyboiboyega · 1 year

Text

The Study Room Pt. 7 (Shuri x Black!Fem!Reader)

HBCU!Shuri x Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Content: minor angst, mention of character death, mention of illness, but fluff

Babyboiboyega’s Marvel Masterlist

Babyboiboyega’s Masterlist of Masterlists

Series Masterlist

A/N: IT’S HERE! I’M ON TIME (DONT LOOK AT THE TIME), HERE YALL GO LMAO GO GO GO

Recap:

If she didn’t want you to know her real thoughts right now, then you’d wait until she was ready. You had no problem waiting- not when it came to Shuri.

Shuri could feel you relax more into her as the minutes went by until you were breathing deeply and evenly. She didn’t have to look to know that you were fast asleep.

As she let her own eyes close, she couldn’t help but pull you closer. The feeling of you breathing, warm, and alive in her arms would be enough to keep the nightmare at bay; at least she hoped so. She’d certainly find out sooner or later, but for right now, she enjoyed the peace and reassurance that your presence brought her.

**********

It wasn’t the sun’s bright rays filtering into your room that woke you up the next morning; it wasn’t even the sound of soft music being played in the streets of Wakanda that woke you up; instead, it was the lack of one person’s presence that had you turning around in bed, eyes half lidded and eyebrows furrowed. The sun illuminated the empty spot beside you while also warming your skin, only reminding you more of the way Shuri’s arms had been wrapped around you the night before.

With a yawn, you slowly sat up in the huge bed you still couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Your tired eyes scanned the room only to quickly come to the conclusion that Shuri was, in fact, nowhere to be found. At least not in your room.

You weren’t prepared for the small, flustered feeling that went through you at the realization. Against your own wishes, your mind immediately started going to war with itself; part of it replaying every word and actions of yours from the night before, looking for something you could have done or said, while the other part chastised you for being a little selfish.

Maybe your true feelings - feelings you had yet to confront- had leaked too much into your words last night.

“I’m just glad you’re here and that you know you can come to me for anything.” Had that been too much? Too sentimental? You had simply been speaking the truth, wanting her to know that you were there- especially in the face of her distraction from something you still had no clue about.

Or, wait…was that it? What if she felt as if she couldn’t come to you for anything? You quite literally couldn’t imagine what she had to go through being the ruler of a country who had suffered the loss of not one, but two of their rulers in the span of a year. Add on the fact that the loss she had felt in the face of her brother and her mother’s deaths were insurmountable, yet she had been forced to carry on quickly afterwards.

How in the hell could you understand and empathize with what she had gone through?

At some point during your busy thoughts, you slipped out of bed. Your morning routine was done with little acknowledgement, letting your limbs do what they were accustomed to doing: showering, washing your face, brushing your teeth, getting dressed. In the midst of all of these actions, your mind still ran on overdrive. Except this time, the other part of your brain, the one adamant on calling you selfish, took over.

Did you forget that she’s the Queen? She’s the actual Queen of the country you’re currently in; maybe she had royal duties or something important to do- something more important than laying in bed all day with you. You’re already taking up one of the bedrooms in the palace; you want her to spend every second of every waking day with you?

Of course you didn’t expect her to spend all of her time with you, as she had already given up a lot of it in order to keep you safe; but it wasn’t hard to admit to yourself that you immensely enjoyed her presence…almost a little too much for you to claim that you two were just ‘close friends’, and it seemed to you that she also enjoyed your presence. You were a little…hesitant, nervous even, to apply any other word except ‘friends’ to you and Shuri…but the events and actions that had taken place between you two almost made it easy to do exactly that.

She has enough on her plate. Keeping you safe, running a country, her education.

The thought made you pause in your actions of making the bed, your eyes lingering reflexively on the spot she had been in. It was true; she did have a lot on her plate. But you didn’t know if you could just ignore the bond you two had created- the same bond that definitely crossed the line that two friends usually stayed behind.

“Miss Y/L/N, the General wishes to speak with you. She is currently outside of your room.”

If anything could have broken you out of your thoughts, it was the sudden sound of Shuri’s AI coming from seemingly nowhere and everywhere at the same time. You couldn’t help glancing around quickly before replying, as if the voice had a body to match it.

“Uh, thank you…Griot.”

“You are most welcome.”

Maybe the earlier statement was a lie, because if there was anything that could have truly broken you out of your reverie, it was the news that the General was not only outside of your door, but that she also wanted to speak to you.

Your steps were somehow both quick and hesitant as you approached the door, looking around as if you were a child afraid of being chastised for having a messy room despite not a single thing being out of place. A number of different concerns raced through your mind as you opened the door, coming face to face with Okoye. Her head was tilted as she regarded you, an eyebrow raised in slight suspicion. What could you have possibly done already to receive this look-

“I have been knocking for the past minute.”

Her words took a second to register and when they did, your head tilted in a manner similar to hers. Eyebrows furrowed, you wracked your brain for the memory of hearing a knock or anything similar only to come up empty. You shook your head slowly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. I must have been in the bathroom.” Or confusing myself with contradicting thoughts that regard your queen and how I feel about her, you added internally. “Is something wrong?”

She stayed silent for just a second too long, simply looking at you. It only reminded you that she was the General for a reason, and the way she could intimidate someone with a simple look was only one of those reasons. You were perfectly and entirely fine with not being on the end of any of the other reasons.

You had just started shuffling slightly on your feet because of the silence when she decided to have mercy and break it.

“Follow me. I have something to show you.”

One thing, amongst the many, you could easily admire about Okoye was the way she could give a command while simultaneously sounding…not exactly gentle, but still showing those she spoke to respect. It was easy for someone in her position to look down on those beneath them, speaking to them as if they were a petulant child; but so far, despite being a stranger to her and her home, Okoye hasn’t made you feel…unwanted or as if you were a bother. She doesn’t exactly hide her suspicions of you, but you could understand why.

Your trust in her was enough for you to nod in understanding, quickly slipping on your shoes that sat just inside the door. Your trust, however, didn’t lessen your nervousness as you followed her words, letting the door close behind you with a soft click. You turned to her, opting to send a half-confused, half-nervous smile her way in lieu of asking questions. In response, she let out a near silent huff that could have been in annoyance or amusement before turning and once again motioning for you to follow her.

You managed to match her pace, walking not completely beside her but not completely behind her. The path she took led you past a door that was shut and had elaborate carvings in it, automatically making you assume that it was Shuri’s. Every thought you had just managed to ignore upon Okoye’s arrival seemed to rush to the front, and with a tiny headshake, you continued following the General.

Every person you passed, whether it be other Doras, scientists, doctors, or any other person working in the palace nodded in acknowledgement and respect as Okoye passed them. Most of them nodded to you as well, some of them even offering small smiles. It only reminded you that the entire time you had been in the palace, not once had you been made to believe that you were a hindrance or unwelcome.

“How’s your day been?”

Okoye turned to you at your question, her eyebrows raising slightly to show her surprise. Hell, you were pretty surprised at your own attempt to make conversation, but you had already asked it and there was no taking it back. You bit the inside of your cheek as you waited nervously for her reply. When she gave one, she seemed to be choosing her words carefully in a voice that was both strong and patient.

“My day has been okay.”

There was no surprise at all that she kept her answer short and straight to the point. It spoke perfectly to who she was, or who she presented herself to be; straightforward, not playing any games, not there for the bullshit. You couldn’t even be mad at it.

You nodded, mumbling a soft ‘that’s good’ under your breath in response. It wasn’t until she had led you to an elevator and you two had stepped in did she speak once again.

“How has your day been?”

“Good! Well, I mean, I had just woken up not too long before you had come to get me- but so far, it’s been okay!”

A noise that sounded close to a huff left her, and a quick glance over at her showed that she had the smallest grin curving the corner of her lips. Your eyes almost widened at the sight, but you managed to contain your surprise…and the small bout of pride you felt.

It was only a matter of mere seconds before the elevator doors were opening on a new floor, causing you to look out in confusion. The ride had been so smooth that you had barely even known you were moving, which wasn’t a surprising feat when it came to Wakanda’s tech.

The doors opening were followed by the sound of music that seemed to surround you as soon as you stepped out. You quickly recognized the interior of Shuri’s lab- or rather, her secondary lab. Her first and main one was located under Mount Bashenga, the beautiful towering mountain that held a panther statue on top of it. You hadn’t been to it, but your curiosity had certainly grown as Shuri described it to you during your short tour. You didn’t bother asking when you could visit; the way she described it made it obvious that the lab was one of the most important things to her and that it was a safe space. The only way you’d get there was if she invited you personally, and you were okay with that. The last thing you wanted was to encroach upon a space she deemed safe, secure, and intimate without her permission or explicit invitation.

This lab, however, had been one of the first things you had seen upon waking up. It was the same lab where you had received previous updates about you and Shuri’s mutual menace, which is what your mind immediately went to as Okoye led you further inside.

“Is there an update on Shuri’s stalker?”

Okoye shook her head silently, continuing to lead you past several engineers who were so engrossed in their work, that they didn’t bother looking up. Your eyes lingered on the projects sitting in front of each of them, knowing enough to recognize what they were using, but not knowing enough to recognize how they were using it. You were in school for biophysics, so your range of knowledge extended to knowing how to use different physiological theories and concepts in order to analyze and understand biological phenomena; the projects you walked past were the exact opposite of biophysics. They looked technological, unsurprisingly; but none of them looked done, that much you could tell.

You found yourself slowing down as you walked past, your head tilting just slightly in curiosity. They may have not looked finished, but upon closer inspection, it was obvious that each piece complimented another in some way, shape, or form. Whatever they were building was big and complex enough to need at least 5 engineers working on it at the same time.

“What are they working on-”

Your words faded upon turning around and finding that Okoye had continued walking without you only to stop in front of a set of double doors. An eyebrow was raised as she stared at you, her lips pursed slightly and an unimpressed look on her face. It was enough for you to grimace sheepishly before quickly walking over, your mouth opening to offer an apology. It quickly closed as Okoye opened the door, motioning for you to go in ahead of her.

“We will be in here.”

You had no idea what you’d be walking into once you stepped past the threshold; however, a nearly empty room save for the multiple racks of spears lining the walls and a cushioned floor was the last thing you had expected.

There weren’t any windows, but the light that filled the room seemed almost soft and natural; it did nothing to ease your nerves, though. You didn’t know whether you wanted to touch the spears in childlike wonder, or stay far away from them and voice the question that had been on your mind since being picked up from your room…so you chose the latter option.

“What exactly are we about to get into?”

Your question hung in the air as Okoye closed the doors with a resounding thud before walking over to one of the racks which held multiple spears. She set her own against the wall before turning and making her way to the middle of the room and the padded floor.

The longer you stood there, the more pieces your brain connected, and soon you were able to answer your own question. Why else would Okoye, the incredibly skilled, incredibly badass General of the Wakandan army bring you to a room that looked close to a training room? And why else would she be motioning for you to join her?

Your steps were slow as you walked towards her, stepping onto the padded area. It was soft enough for your feet to leave small impressions, but firm enough that you knew should you be slammed into it, you’d have bruises and aches for at least a day.

“General Okoye…can I ask why we’re here-”

“Tell me, Miss Y/L/N, have you ever been in a physical confrontation?”

You had already held suspicions about the reason behind you two being here, but her question only confirmed them. Fully expecting her to laugh at the fight you had been in, especially when compared to the battles she had been in, you let out a breath before explaining.

“I…fought this girl who was bullying my friend. Of course, it was nothing compared to the fights I’m sure you’ve been in, but I got suspended for a few days.”

Okoye looked incredibly unimpressed at your story; so much so that you felt the need to clarify and further explain yourself. The more you spoke, the more vivid the memory became. You weren’t one to hold grudges, but you had a sneaking suspicion that if you were to ever see that girl again, you’d probably say something so incredibly out of pocket.

“My friend, Alice, was in a wheelchair, and this girl who was new, Lilliana McMillan,” the girl’s name left your mouth with an air of annoyance, “kept messing with her. She’d stick things into her wheels, move desks and other objects just to make it harder for Alice to move around. Just being an entire bitch to one of the nicest people in the school.”

Okoye’s eyebrows raised slightly at your choice of words, though she didn’t comment; she’d heard worse from Shuri. Hell, she had said worse herself.

“I wanted to fight her much sooner, but Alice kept telling me that it wasn’t worth it. ‘Take the high road’, she’d say. ‘She’s not worth it’...and I listened.”

A short, unamused laugh left your mouth as you shook your head. Even after years of being out of high school, you could still feel the anger from that day as if it were yesterday.

“But then, Lilliana pushed Alice so hard one day that her chair tipped sideways. Alice’s elbow was busted up and her chair- a wheelchair that cost her family thousands of dollars- broke. All because Lilliana Mc-fucking-Millan thought it was cool to pick on a person who was too nice to fight back.”

As you explained the events of that day, Okoye’s face changed from being impassive to what looked like a barely perceptible look of understanding. You didn’t know Okoye well, or really at all, but you could tell that she didn’t take too lightly to bullies.

“As soon as I walked around the corner and saw Alice on the ground, crying, with Lilliana’s flat footed ass standing over her, I saw red. I checked on Alice first, made sure she was okay…then I turned to Lilliana…and I just went in.”

You shrugged, taking a deep breath. Looking back, you remembered the events leading up to the fight, and the events following the fight. The fight itself was just a blur of anger, thrown fists and feet, and handfuls of hair.

“It was the first real, and worst, fist fight I’ve been in.”

Okoye nodded in acknowledgement, crossing her arms and looking at you with an expression you couldn’t place. You’d liken it to being inspected for a job or even being appraised to see if you’d be able to do something. The regret at telling her the story of the fight started to build in your body, but just like those years ago, you couldn’t find a hint of regret at your actions back then.

That small bit of regret grew as Okoye walked forward, still looking at you peculiarly; but it disappeared completely at her next words.

“Did you win?”

You couldn’t stop the self satisfied smile from appearing on your face as you nodded, and admittedly, you felt a pang of pride as the corner of Okoye’s mouth twitched up slightly.

“I did. Alice got on me about it, though. I think she was more upset at the fact that I had busted my wrist up.” You shrugged, glancing at the wrist that you had worn a cast on for a good bit afterwards.

Either you were trippin’, or there was actually a proud look on her face as you looked back at her.

“Good,” but then she stepped back, her usual stoicness returning, “but that was a high school fight. You’re not in high school anymore, and now you have an unnamed , faceless person pursuing you who has already made one attempt on your life.”

Her statement was rather obvious, yet it still made your smile drop quickly. There was nothing quite like being reminded that if you weren’t in Wakanda, you’d probably be dead.

“And that is precisely why we are here, today. After all of this is over, these skills will still come in handy as basic self defense.”

She walked towards you, motioning for you to presumably get into a fighting stance. You paused, your mind momentarily going blank as the thoughts of simultaneously embarrassing yourself and looking like a fool in front of Okoye ran through it.

You weren’t in the MMA by any means, but you had always felt that if need be, you’d be able to defend yourself; the whole fight or flight thing. That was until you got to Wakanda and witnessed the Dora Milaje and how lethal they were firsthand.

With a quick prayer to whoever was listening, you raised your fists and situated your feet in a position you hoped was right…only for Okoye’s eyes to furrow as she tilted her head.

“What in Bast’s name are you doing?”

You looked quizzically at your hands, growing confused at the exasperated look on her face. Hands covering your face, thumb on the outside of your fingers, thumbs folded down, feet parted, knees bent…what were you missing?

The confusion must have been obvious on your face, as Okoye held back a sigh before copying you, holding her arms up and blocking her face. With one closed fist, she motioned toward you again.

“Throw a punch.”

…

“You want me to punch you?”

She had the nerve to let out a quick laugh at your words, her head shaking quickly. She shuffled closer to you and almost on instinct, you shuffled backwards. Instead of stopping, she continued getting closer…and instead of stopping, you continued to back away.

“You’ll never land a punch, but I need to make sure you know how to throw one.”

Not giving yourself time to hesitate or overthink it (and maybe thinking you would catch Okoye, the General of an army, off guard), you quickly threw a punch.

One second, you’re on your feet, punching at Okoye, and the next you’re on your back. It takes a while for your brain to catch up with what happened, but when it does, your body’s reaction isn’t far behind.

All the air in your body had left as soon as you hit the ground, and it was hard as hell to draw another breath in. Once you did, though, the only thing that came out of your mouth was a drawn out groan; one that Okoye paid no heed to as she crouched beside your laid out figure. You could see her out of the corner of your eye, though you kept your eyes fixated on a detail in the ceiling in an attempt to let the room stop spinning.

“Do you know what you did wrong?”

Her voice didn’t seem mocking or sarcastic, but there was humor in it. You shut your eyes, the sudden thought that Okoye had to have started somewhere popping up in your mind. She wasn’t just born as the general of the Wakandan army, and you were pretty sure she wasn’t born a Dora, so the thought of her at one point being in your exact position was enough for you to finally open your eyes and look at her.

“You deadass?”

Your voice was still winded, but your question was exactly that: deadass. Completely serious. Because how would you know what you did wrong if you barely saw her move in the first place?

She nodded in response, her expression a mixture of seriousness and that of a teacher who got on you for not ‘applying yourself’.

“I am completely…’deadass’. What did you do wrong?”

You’d definitely be telling Shuri that you got Okoye to say the words “deadass”.

“Well, for one, I followed you in here. That was a mistake. If I would’ve known that I was just going to get thrown around like a damn rag doll- how’d you even do that, first of all? I didn’t even see you move-”

Okoye held a hand out, effectively silencing your words while also offering a hand for you to get up. You took a few more breaths, savoring them as it’d probably be the last time doing so, before grabbing her hand and letting her pull you up.

“Learning how to defend yourself is not a ‘mistake’. Shuri doesn’t seem to think so, and neither should you.”

You weren’t surprised in the least bit at learning that Shuri may have been the one to put Okoye up to this, nor were you surprised at the fact that if there was one thing Shuri would make sure you could do was defend yourself. You didn’t know whether to feel giddy at the reminder that she cared for you in some way, or like a burden because maybe she had no other choice. It was a quick callback to the thoughts you had had after just waking up, but you managed to keep them at bay. It was rather easy to do so when Okoye once again walked closer to you, your heart spiking on its own accord.

“I never said learning self defense is a ‘mistake’; I said learning self defense with you may be a mistake, as in ‘I’m not ready to get my ass handed to me multiple times today’.”

Okoye reached forward, faster than you could track, her hands latching around your wrists. On instinct, you tried to wrench your hands away, struggling only for a moment before realizing that you weren’t going anywhere unless Okoye let you.

Her eyes stared pointedly at you, waiting for you to stop struggling, and only then did she continue speaking.

“That won’t happen if you pay attention and learn what I teach you. What would Alice say? I’m sure she would appreciate you learning what is needed in order to not ‘bust your wrist up’ again.”

Her words made you stop, your eyes glancing away for a second as a quick surge of anger ran through you. It only took a second for you to remind yourself that she didn’t know that Alice had passed only earlier in the year, so you couldn’t exactly fault her for her unintentional guilt-tripping.

Feelings that you had long since come to terms with regarding your old best friend resurfaced quickly, and you tried your best to keep them from showing on your face; but this was Okoye. What the hell couldn’t she see? Might as well rip the bandaid off.

“She passed earlier this year. Osteosarcomas- bone cancer.” Okoye’s grip on your wrists slackened, her face falling in the slightest. You hurried to respond despite having a feeling that she was a person who would offer sympathies, but who wouldn’t dwell on them.

“But I’m sure she would tell you to kick my ass and to do whatever you need to do to teach me.”

The more you thought about it, the more appealing the idea of actually being able to take care of yourself became. It certainly made you feel slightly better in yourself; stronger; maybe Shuri would stop worrying so much and focus on things more important…like her own damn safety.

Okoye gave a small grin, directing your hands to a position that was better than your last one had been. Once she was satisfied, she let go and stepped back.

“Oh, I had already planned on doing that.”

You believed her, however, with a small thought that maybe…just maybe she’d go a little easy on you, seeing as you had only been in one real altercation. That couldn’t have been further from the truth, and you found out the hard way during the next few hours.

Despite Okoye’s tendency to knock your ass to the floor first and then tell you what you did wrong, you found that it was almost surprisingly getting you to learn the small things. The first things she focused on were learning your strengths and your weaknesses. It was fair to say that in this specific activity, your weaknesses outnumbered your strengths, but she was good at pointing out both.

She had her own way of commending you for doing something right, and in the beginning, it had involved her nodding her head with a look that wasn’t as exasperated. Sometimes she’d even let out a surprised ‘hmm’. It admittedly boosted your pride each time. However, as the hours passed, it was evident that the two of you grew more…agreeable being around each other. Or maybe her frustration had just gotten to a point where she didn’t bother hiding it anymore, instead, letting her more sarcastic side show.

Whatever the cause, the change in her demeanor had made your little ‘training session’ a little more bearable. You no longer felt the need to walk on eggshells around her or even hold in your comments. It had resulted in her hearing you let loose a few choice words in weird combinations spurred on by your own pain and frustration. There had even been a few times where she had mumbled a sarcastic comment under her breath in response to a question you had or if you did something wrong.

Her comments had only made her appear more…human, to you at least. It didn’t make anything weird and it didn’t make you any less enthusiastic. Regardless of this, there eventually came a time where you both could tell that you had been training enough. It became obvious to Okoye after you failed to block an easy jab that you had blocked easily an hour ago, and it became obvious to you after you fell unceremoniously to the mat as Okoye told you that you were done.

You leaned against the wall, letting your head rest back as you focused on taking deep breaths. Every breath was shaky, but they were slowly becoming more steady. Your limbs shook, even as you sat still, and the mere thought of waking up tomorrow and having to do anything made a small groan leave your mouth.

All of your ailments were completely disregarded, though, as Okoye asked a question that had your eyes snapping open.

“How exactly did you and Shuri meet?”

Your eyes trailed over to land on Okoye who busied herself with reattaching her arm cuffs that she had, thankfully, taken off before beginning. You thought over your response under the guise of still trying to catch your breath.

There truly wasn’t a reason behind being so nervous to answer her question; you two had met in one of the most mundane ways. But it was the way Okoye asked the question coupled with the look on her face as she gazed at you.

That same calculating look was in her eyes as she waited for your answer, except this time, it seemed as if she were trying to clock a potential lie that you could tell. The agreeableness from earlier hadn’t completely vanished, but it was eclipsed by an air of skepticism.

“We met in the campus library. I accidentally took her study room, and after I offered to leave, she insisted that I stay. Then she…uh…helped me with my homework.”

It almost seemed laughable; such a mundane and…normal meeting that involved the monarch of an entire country. Okoye seemed to think so as well. In fact, she seemed to think that it was a little too normal as she tilted her head slightly and narrowed her eyes. Just that quick, you felt like you were back under a microscope she was looking into.

“Did you know of her status as Queen at the time of your meeting?”

You sat up more at her question, already sensing where she was going, and instantly becoming nervous. Had any of your words or any of your actions raised suspicion with the General? Who else shared her suspicion?

Did…Shuri? Was that the reason behind her absence earlier? Was this entire ‘training session’ just a chance for Okoye to get into your mind and see if you had ulterior motives?

Who else shared her suspicion? Had you been walking around the entire time, comfortable, feeling welcomed…while simultaneously being looked into?

“I did- everyone did. As soon as she arrived on campus, everyone knew who she was. It’s hard not to recognize the Queen of Wakanda when she shows up on your campus.” You swallowed hard, willing your heart to slow down because you had nothing to be guilty of.

“What the hell is this about, Okoye? Am I a suspect?”

“Of course, you aren’t a suspect,” She spoke quickly, stepping towards you, “if I considered you a suspect, you wouldn’t be free to walk around this palace.”

There was a promise of a threat behind her words, and you believed her. Any person who dared to go after the princess wouldn’t have gotten nearly any of the same courtesy as you had received while in Wakanda.

“I am asking because I have noticed that…you two are pretty close. Closer than normal friends are. And as someone who cares about her and wants only the best for her, I feel the need to-”

Your eyes widened a comical amount as she continued speaking, the pieces clicking together in your mind and causing your face to heat up. What made it worse was that Okoye didn’t look any more comfortable, as her eyes flickered between her metal braces and your face.

“Okoye. Wait a minute, are you…giving me the talk?”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she went to speak, her mouth opening and closing for a second. You beat her to it, your words coming out rushed.

“I got it, okay? You’re protective of Shuri, that’s understandable. I haven’t known her for a very long time, but I can say that I am, too. But I promise you, you don’t have to worry about me doing anything to put her in any type of jeopardy or risk.”

You struggled to your feet, holding onto the wall for balance as you stood on shaky legs. There was no point in hiding the confused, albeit present, feelings you had for Shuri; especially not from someone who loved her as much as Okoye did.

“I want the best for Shuri as well, even if that isn’t me.” You prayed that she chalked the shakiness of your voice up to your fatigue, “And if it isn’t me, then I’ll go ahead and move on after all of this is over. But until then, I’m like you: I just want her to be safe.”

Okoye’s expression softened at your words, and you took it as a sign to keep going, no matter how much of a hole you were digging yourself into.

“She has this wild idea that it’s her responsibility to keep me safe, when in reality, this stalker is after her. I’m only an obstacle in their way to get to her- she’s their endgame, and we still don’t even know what they want with her!”

The quick laugh that left your mouth was humorless and bitter, a good representation of how you were feeling with the entire situation.

“I’ve told her that between the two of us, her safety takes priority, and I’m sure you can agree.” Okoye wordlessly nodded in agreement before you continued, “but we know how stubborn and hard-headed she can be. That’s part of the reason why I’m even trying to learn all of…this!”

Your arms raised, motioning aimlessly around the room in reference to your training.

“Maybe if I learn how to take care of myself, she’ll start to care more about her own safety.”

Okoye’s eyes seemed to take on an understanding look right before they connected with something over your shoulder. She cleared her throat and motioned to whatever was behind you, prompting you to turn around.

The universe liked to play jokes, sometimes. And sometimes, you were the butt of those jokes, because of course Shuri had to be standing in the doorway to the room after your little tirade.

Her eyebrows were scrunched together slightly and she held a bag in her hands. You froze at the sight of her, your eyes widening and your heart literally skipping a beat at the thought that she had heard…well..any of that.

“How much of that did you hear?”

Your question sounded panicked, even to your own ears, as you asked it.

“I heard enough.” You should just run out of the damn room. “General Okoye, do you mind giving us a second? I’d like to speak with Y/N.”

The worry that shot through your body was enough for you to take a deep, shaky breath. You never would have thought that this kind of nervousness would plague you, especially when it came to Shuri and having to speak with her.

She doesn’t look mad…not really.

But there was still a slight frown on her lips as Okoye nodded, quickly retrieving her spear before walking past you and towards the door Shuri stood in front of. She had the decency to stop at the door and look back at you, providing what could’ve been an encouraging nod, before stepping out and closing the door behind her.

The silence that enveloped the two of you was so heavy that you immediately wanted to break it, but doing so would open the possibility of saying something embarrassing. So with fidgety hands and a racing heart, you waited for Shuri to speak first. She did so not too long after Okoye left, walking towards where you stood in the middle of the mat.

“Do you really see yourself as some ‘obstacle’?” So she had heard that part.

Her voice was low, almost hesitant as she spoke. Her eyes didn’t leave your figure, even as yours darted around slightly.

“Maybe not an obstacle…” you trailed off, letting out a sigh as she continued to approach you. Unlike Okoye, you didn’t feel the need to move; you didn’t want to move.

“Just…not as important.”

Her frown deepened at your words and she shook her head, looking away for a second and letting out a heavy sigh.

“Y/N, we talked about this.”

Regardless of how nervous you were, you still held true to your words, believing them wholeheartedly and genuinely. No matter how nervous she made you, you’d continue to fight her about her safety.

“We did, and my thoughts are still the same.” The longer you spoke, the more steadier your words became. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do or say to change my mind.”

She stayed silent for a while, almost seeming to hold her breath as she thought something over. After a few seconds of silence, she finally faced you once again, letting out another sigh and nodding in resignation.

“There isn’t anything you can do or say to change my mind about your safety, Y/N. There never will be. We’ll both have to live with it.”

She held the bag in her hand out to you…and it honestly threw you for a loop. You had expected her to argue you up and down, again, about your safety and where it was in relation to her own…but she hadn’t. It relieved you while also making you suspicious.

It must have shown on your face because a grin curved her lips as she pushed the bag more towards you, encouraging you to take it. You took it, instantly opening it and taking a look inside. At the sight of clothes, you raised a quizzitive eyebrow and looked back at her. She instantly understood your silent question, letting out a soft laugh.

“Clothes for you to change into;” She paused, having the audacity to look slightly nervous before she continued, “I’d like to take you somewhere. Only if you’re okay with it.”

If you thought your heart had been racing at her arrival, it was nothing compared to the way it raced now. She wanted to take you somewhere?

Her nervousness paired with her request to take you somewhere had a bashful, yet excited look appearing on your face as you nodded quickly. You didn’t dare think about the implications behind her request; the last thing you wanted was to think too much into everything and then either disappoint yourself or disappoint her when the truth came to light.

But you could let yourself enjoy one night with her…right?

A/N: sorry for the wait y’all lmaoooo

BUT I hope you all enjoyed this part! Part 8 should actually be out later this week if my timing is right!

Please like, reblog, and/or comment! Y’all’s comments are the best part of my day, honestly, I love reading y’alls comments <3

Stay safe, y’all!

Tag list: @shinsousliya , @honey-teaaaaaaaa , @tchhairbandhere , @jessiap , @zane2408 , @bananasplits-world , @yellowjacketmurder , @barkbarkbo , @butterflyybabe , @bananafishok , @zestgodtj , @mitsuya-takashi , @chaoticevilbakugo , @cedeni-beanie , @shuri-my-love , @kingstormpostsshit , @sailorsolar12 , @justariellove , @angelsmist , @eriksjournal , @mermaidchansons , @nil-eena , @paisholotus , @thesecretwriterblog , @brain-of-nekoma , @7tearsofatlantis , @simp4iwaizumi , @bumlyn , @jackdrawsjunk , @http-twyla , @cedeni-beanie , @taleiakirby , @brain-of-nekoma , @borderlineacademia , @honey-teaaaaaaaa

#Shuri #shuri black panther #shuri oneshot #shuri fanfiction #Shuri x you #hbcu!shuri x reader #hbcu!shuri #hbcu!shuri oneshot #hbcu!shuri imagine #hbcu!shuri drabble #black panther #black panther fanfic #black panther x reader #black panther: wakanda forever #Wakanda forever #shuri x reader #shuri udaku #the study room

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togrowoldinv · 2 years

Text

She Will Be Loved

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

When Natasha won’t stop training, you ease her mind

Note: Hey I’m back with a comfort soft Nat fic lol. This is just my favorite Nat to write. I saw those videos of Nat training during endgame that we never got official scenes of and thought of this. Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You’re at work when your phone rings. It’s a number you don’t have saved but given the times you live in with half of the population missing, you answer it.

“Is this y/n?” a man’s voice comes from the other end of the line.

“This is y/n. Who is this?”

“Steve Rogers,” the man says and your heart drops. The only reason he would be calling you is if something is wrong with your girlfriend.

“What happened? Is Natasha okay?” you ask him worriedly.

“Can you come to the compound?”

“Steve, please. I know you don’t know me, but tell me what’s happening,” you plead with him as you grab your things to leave work.

“She just needs you right now. I’ll be waiting at the gates for you,” Steve says before he hangs up the phone.

His cryptic words do nothing to ease your worries as you drive across the city. You and Natasha have been together since you met her one day when you volunteered at the orphanage she created to help the children left alone after the snap.

You stayed late and helped her clean up and talked to her. She asked you who you had lost, and you told her of your family and friends. She told you of her sister and fellow Avengers. Even the ones that hadn’t disappeared had left the compound and she stayed there mostly alone. Steve stopped by every now and then and some others video conferenced in. But Natasha was alone.

The two of you fell for each other quickly, which scared both of you immensely. So much so that neither of you told anyone about your relationship. It’s been over two years of the two of you being together, being in love.

You think about all of this as you drive up to the gates of the compound where you get out of your car to greet Steve.

“Thanks for coming, y/n,” Steve says. He has soft look on his face and your worries once again deepen.

“What’s going on?” you ask him as you walk into the compound and through the halls to what you recognize as the training room. Nat had brought you here before.

You look into the room from the glass paned door and catch sight of Natasha punching and kicking a punching bag with all of her might. She switches from that to running sprints back and forth across the room.

“She’s been at it for hours. She won’t stop or take a break. I didn’t know what to do, so I grabbed her phone and saw she had texts from your number, and I called you,” Steve says.

"I’ve got her,” you say, despite having no actual idea how you are going to help her.

When you open the training room door, Natasha doesn’t look your way. You know she feels your presence in the room. She has enough training for that. But she only keeps running sprints.

“Hey Natasha,” you say as you walk closer to her. She doesn’t respond. “Natasha, hey can you stop running, baby?”

You reach for her arm, and she shrugs off your touch before she finally looks at you. Natasha sees nothing but worry on your face and she starts crying. Sobs rack her chest as she holds her head in her hands. You’ve seen her cry before, but this time feels worse. It feels like she’s truly lost.

“Natasha, come here, my love,” you say with open arms.

“I can’t- I can’t stop. I have to keep going,” Natasha’s voice is broken with sobs and her voice is small. It breaks your heart.

“Oh, Natasha,” your voice comes out almost as a whisper.

You close the distance between the two of you by wrapping your arms around her middle. It takes her a moment, but she eventually wraps her arms around you too. Nat buries her face in your chest and continues to sob.

“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you,” you keep repeating until Nat lifts her head up to look at you. You kiss both her cheeks gently and she closes her eyes at the softness.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha says. Once again, her voice is small.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you say.

“I couldn’t save them.”

“No one could, Nat,” you say, trying to find the right words. “No one is to blame. And hey, it’s okay that it still hurts even years later, but Nat you have to stop blaming yourself. It’s not all on you.”

“It feels like it’s on me,” she replies.

“I know,” you say sadly. You kiss her forehead, and she leans into your touch.

“Steve called you?” Natasha asks.

“He did. He was worried about you.”

“He is always worried about me,” Nat says.

“You need a break from this place,” you say.

“I have to be here to do this job,” Natasha says. She steps back from you a little and you sigh.

“I understand. But come with me for the night? We’ll go to my place and watch those old tv shows you love because you watched them on team bonding nights,” you suggest, grabbing her hands and holding them tightly. Natasha almost smiles.

“Okay. Just for the night,” Nat agrees. “Thank you for saving me, y/n.”

“Anytime, baby. I love you,” you say.

“I love you too,” she says as she kisses you softly.

She grabs her stuff and you two head out of the compound hand in hand. You find Steve standing outside the doors.

“I’m stealing this one for the night,” you tell him as you squeeze Nat’s hand at your side.

“Take good care of her,” Steve says.

“Always,” you say with a smile.

You get in the car with Natasha and turn on some music for the drive to your house. Natasha feels like as long as she’s with you that she is going to be okay. And she knows she will be loved.

Tag List: @gracebutnotgraceful @i-wished-for-you-too @idkwhygregg @romanoffscottage @be-missed @likefirenrain @hehehehannahthings @mythosphere-x @readings-stuff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @milfloverslut @yelenabelovaisthebettersister @mrswidowjohansson @alotofpockets @wandassitcom @ggrangerdanger @marvelwomen-simp @maia-lightwoood @mortallytremendoussandwich @xxromanoffxx @peanutbutterprincess @karmasgxrl @picnicmic @wandaslittlewhore @exhaustedfangirl @when-wolves-howl @natashalovers @marie45019 @inluvwithfictionalwomen @sammi1642 @itsyourgirlmalise @jujuu23 @the-night-owl-blr @strangegardentaco @avatarsnips @romanoffswoman @natashasilverfox @imthenatynat @natasha-danvers @sayah13 @harleysincairo @rach2602 @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @lovelyy-moonlight @thenazwife @blackwidow-3

#natasha romanoff x reader #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff

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tinytinybumblebee · 7 months

Note

thank you again for being willing to receive my fics 🥺👉👈🥺🥺😭 i have another part to the one I sent in before… i hope you enjoy, sorry for the long long message :,D it’s kind of an essay sorry ;;

———

“Hey, hey, sweet thing, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m sorry I let go of you, I thought you didn’t want to be touched, shh, shh,” Tav spoke quickly, putting his hands around Astarion’s back.

Astarion grasps around, finding the crook of Tav’s neck and burying his face in. A long, pained whine left his throat.

“…I think bathtime is over,” Tav whispers.

The little vampire stares up with watery eyes. “…Sow‘y…”

“No, no, shh,” Tav lifts him out of the bath, the cold air biting at his skin and only making him want to snuggle in closer. “You did so well. My brave boy.”

Astarion gives him a hopeful look. Brave? He’s brave? Tav seems to sense his silent question and lightly taps his nose.

“Yes, you’re so brave!” he coos. “You’ve been my brave little boy all day long.”

That wouldn’t even describe half of it, really, but Astarion was far too little to talk about everything that had happened. With the little smile sneaking its way onto his gaunt face, he seemed perfectly happy to be called a brave boy for facing the bathtub.

“B’ave,” he smiles to himself, happy enough with the praise to not notice Tav wrapping him in a towel, nice and snug.

He only notices when Tav properly cradles him again and, without access to his hands, can’t grab fistfuls of his caregiver’s shirt to cuddle in closer. This realization is met with a pout and a bit of squirming, busy little mind having all but forgotten his pride over being called brave now that this minor inconvenience was in his way.

And ever the attentive carer, Tav picks up on it right away.

“Oh, now, what are we pouty about, little love? You were so happy a second ago.”

“…Cuddle,” Astarion sulks—even the immense amount of emotional turmoil he’s endured today can’t keep down his impatience, his dramatics, and his dramatic impatience.

“Oh,” Tav tries to stifle a laugh—he knows Astarion has been through enough today, and to his regressed self, something like this is indeed a very big deal. “Oh, dada’s right here, baby, I won’t go anywhere. I just need to get you dried off and dressed and then you can have all the cuddles you want. Brave little boys like you deserve lots of dada cuddles.”

“Cuddle now,” Astarion whines.

Tav said he wouldn’t go away, but what if he did? What if he woke up back in Cazador’s palace to find out this had all been a dream? That there was no freedom, no safety, no dada? No, he needed cuddles now, before that could happen. He tries to squirm out of his little towel cocoon, to touch Tav, to make sure this is all still real.

“Ah-ah, no, Astarion,” Tav holds him steady. “Be patient, please. You don’t want to cuddle before I get you in your pretty clothes. You’ll get so cold, and that’s no fun, is it?”

Astarion whines again, a bit louder this time. No! He doesn’t want to wait! It doesn’t help anything! He waited 200 years for the day he could take his freedom back and he was still just as scared and sad as before now that it was finally here! He writhes more, grabbing about blindly as he tries to shake free of the towel.

“Oh, Astarion…”

Astarion is being laid on his back. Somewhere. He knows dada’s hands are further away than ever, and he hates that. His throat is raw from all the crying and screaming today, but he shrieks regardless, kicking and pounding his heels on the ground as the towel falls away. There isn’t much touch beyond a hand brushing his, but he isn’t having it.

For Tav’s part, he remains kneeled beside him. It’s a strange sight, a full-blown kicking and screaming tantrum from a grown man, but he doesn’t judge, doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t try and hold Astarion’s arms down. It hurts to leave his baby to kick, scream and cry like this, but it’s all Tav can do. It’s been a huge day. Poor Astarion has so many emotions to get out. The best course of action, Tav thinks, is to step back and wait for the elfling to get all his big feelings out.

Or most of them, anyway.

When Astarion’s cries turn to shallow hiccups, Tav fully closes his hand around his. “There we are. Shhh. I know, little star. You have so many big feelings for such a little one. Is this better, now that you’ve gotten them all out? Or some of them, at least. Don’t you feel less icky now?”

Astarion sniffles and nods. But judging by the pout remaining on his face, he doesn’t like that Tav was right about him just needing a good, hard cry; some of that distaste including his regular adult mind that couldn’t help sneaking its way back into his otherwise regressed headspace just to writhe in embarrassment for his own behavior.

“Okay, fussy boy,” Tav chuckles good-naturedly, brushing some curls out of Astarion’s eyes. “Now that we have all that yucky energy out, let’s sit nice and still for dada, alright? The sooner you’re dressed, the sooner you’ll be warm…”

Ever since he kicked off the towel, especially now that he was cooling down from the stress of his fit, Astarion was finding it a bit cold…

“…and the sooner you’ll get to cuddle with dada, all you want.”

Astarion’s eyes widen as he looks up to Tav. Now that sounds like a good deal. Conniption all but forgotten, he tries his hardest to lay still for him. Admittedly, it does get a bit hard to not squirm when Tav’s hand draws closer to certain places, but Tav proves his intentions again and again as he works, every spot of “bad touch” quickly brushed over.

With Astarion fully cooperative now, Tav is able to diaper him without any fussing or insistence on being a big boy (clearly he’d given up the need for pride), then slip a long, baggy red shirt over his head. With its loose, soft fabric and golden trim, it looked like it would have made for rather tasteful clothes, but a few sizes too big for most people at camp, Tav knew it would instead make for perfect pajamas for his little star. Case and point, Astarion is already running his fingers over the fleecy fabric. Tav stops him before he can finish his little inspection, though—considering for a baby-brained Astarion, that meant he was going to start chewing on it.

While he doesn’t whine at having the sleeve taken from his mouth, he does give Tav a sour look no different than one he’d use while big.

“Ah-ah-ah, don’t give me that look,” Tav pokes his nose, a little gesture that makes Astarion’s scowl shatter like glass, unable to contain a tiny giggle. “That’s not something we put in our mouths, is it?”

Astarion pokes his tongue out. The fabric was just so soft and swishy! What was the harm in a little nibbling? Tav gives an exaggerated gasp of scandal. “Oh, you little rebel!” Astarion smirks in response, but Tav soon smirks back. “I guess that sleeve is more interesting than your paci, then?”

Astarion perks up. His paci? In his state of mind, he’d completely forgotten about the pack of regression supplies he had stashed away in his corner of camp or the inn.

“Bab-ee?” he babbles, trying to say “paci”, but the tension had left him feeling even littler than before, and words slipped uselessly off his loosened tongue.

“Paci?” Tav tries, reaching into a small pouch and pulling out a red pacifier, the bulb covered in little bite marks from the many times Astarion wanted a teether, but even regressed, was too prideful to ask.

“Ba-ey!” he coos happily, letting Tav pop the soother in his mouth.

Whatever tension still in him seems to slip away as nursing on the pacifier gives him that final push into the tiniest headspace possible. Tiny, free, loved, in a time far from when Cazador took him. A little newborn who had never known hardship. If you asked Astarion normally, he would say he loathed regularly regressing so small. But, as with many things, being little made him more inclined to be honest about those feelings, and it was clear that while Astarion hated the helplessness Cazador inflicted on him, this was something else entirely.

As he loosely paws at Tav’s hand, coordination failing him, he knows someone is there to care for him. This kind of helpless has no struggle. Just happiness, and dada’s warm smile as he tries to guide Astarion to a sitting position.

“It’s like posing a sack of potatoes,” Tav huffs, and Astarion giggles in turn, letting himself ragdoll back to the floor. “Oh, you! You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”

OwAaaahhHHHHHH OH MY GOODNESS 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖💖 C R Y I N G this continuation has my heart filling SO MUCH LOEV😭💖💖💖💖 Astarion getting all those big feelings out and Tav being so gentle and caring while his little star expresses and fits aaaAAAAA

Your writing is positively phenomenal and aaa????🥺💖💖💖💖💖

#agere #age regression #sfw #fandom agere #mailbox #bg3 #Astarion

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