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#just something about myself that I wanted to express in fic
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Greif (Bo Sinclair x AFAB Reader)
This has been sitting in my drafts for awhile now cause I never felt good enough about it to actually post. I wanted to make a good hurt/comfort but not make it too over the top extreme and I'm really confident in this version of it to finally post it. This is the first time I've posted a heavier fic like this so please head all the trigger warnings I put for this one.
Notes: Minors DNI, This fic is written with an AFAB reader in mind though no specific descriptions are used the pronouns She/her are used in relation to the reader. Trigger warnings: Pregnancy, abortion talk (Briefly). Bo is really mean at least in the start, Hurt/Comfort. Afab reader with she/her pronouns used. Excessive Cursing.
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"If you fuckin' think I'm lettin' you bring a fuckin' baby into this town you're fuckin crazy!"
Bo yelled as he paced around the living room of the main house. You had finally come clean and revealed to him that you were most likely pregnant. He was taking the news about as well as one would expect Bo Sinclair to.
"I didn't ask to get pregnant Bo! Maybe you should've been more careful!"
You screamed right back at him. Bo scoffed at your argument and shook his head, a nasty grin overtaking his face.
"I shoulda never let you fuckin stay here. I told myself the day you rolled into town that you were gonna cause me nothin' but trouble"
"Maybe you should let Vincent make me into one of his wax figures then Bo, or better yet, you can keep me in the basement under the station."
Bo froze at your statement and fixed you with an expression you had never seen grace his face before.
"You better watch your fuckin' mouth if you know what's good for ya"
"Why Bo? You can't handle the truth of what you were doing in that basement before I came along?"
"You have not got a fuckin' clue what you're talkin' about. When what you need to worry about is what your gonna do with bastard you got growin' in there cause it's not gonna have any relation to me"
He spat, motioning to your stomach.
"If you don't wanna keep the baby what do you suppose I do then?"
"I mean hell if I know, I'm sure the pharmacy in the next town over has some pills or somethin' to nip the problem in the bud"
"Y- you'd really want me to go through with that? After everything we've been through together? Are you fucking serious?"
"No darlin' I want you to go all the way over to the next town over and go on a fuckin' shoppin' spree!"
"How could you even suggest something like that Bo? After everything we've been through?"
"A baby ain't nothin' but a liability, a liability ain't a single one of us got time for. 'sides do you really fuckin' think Ambrose is the place to raise a baby?"
"You, Vince and Les grew up here! Plus it's not like you'd let me fuckin' leave and go somewhere else to raise the baby. You'd turn me into a wax figure before that ever happened"
"Exactly, so what happens when that rug rat grows up and starts askin' questions? Askin' shit about what his daddy and uncles do? Askin' about the figures? What the fuck are you gonna do then?"
"You explained what the 3 of you do to me pretty damn near perfect didn't you?"
You countered Bo's argument. You watch his face as another unreadable expression crossed it as he finally sat down in his recliner and put his head in his hands. You sat and watched him in sick curiosity before the overwhelming feeling hit you like a truck.
Bo Sinclair was afraid.
An emotion you quite honestly never thought you'd see Bo experience. Sure Lester had told you stories from when they were kids and scared of their parents, storms or the usual childhood fears. But this was different. Bo wasn't a child and this wasn't a storm that would just pass if he hid under his covers and waited long enough.
You sat looking at a broken son in the body of a man, a son who had never healed from the torture his own parents put him through. The cracks that Bo tried to conceal so well from his own upbringing were crumbling in front of you. The fears coming back to him, his mother's voice echoing in his head that he would just grow up to be like his father.
The fear that it would be twins, like him and Vince and he'd have to watch them be separated and not be able to do a thing for them. Not being able to take them to a hospital just to protect Ambrose and his brothers.
"You're not going to be like them Bo"
You broke the silence with a whisper. You could hear Bo sharply suck in a breath, you were treading on unprecedented territory with Bo. His childhood was just something he didn't talk or think about at all and now it was at the forefront of his thoughts.
"Shut up"
He mumbled back. A usual response for when Bo felt like you were trying to back him into a corner and he was running out of ammo to fight you off.
"You're not going to be like them Bo. You aren't them and you never will be."
You exclaimed louder. Bo threw his hands off his face and stood up so fast the chair tipped on it's back legs. He stood, in front of the chair, just starring at you, breathing heavily as emotions swam through his eyes. You decided to be bold and test the waters, you began to take small steps toward Bo, he wasn't attempting to walk away so you continued this until you were right in front of him.
"Bo"
You said softly as you stood directly in front of him. He finally snapped his eyes down to meet yours.
"Bo, you're going to be better then them. You're going to be a good dad Bo, you've had a first hand experience of what not to be like as a parent, it's going to be rocky sure but-"
"My mama always told me I'd end up being just like daddy, Just a mean son of a bitch who never had anything nice to say to no one."
Bo cut you off, a much softer tone then before when his fear was translating to anger.
"Do you want to be like you dad? Are you gonna hate this baby if it doesn't come out to be what you were expecting?"
Bo look at you as if you had grown three heads.
"Of course not, it's my kid, how could I not love my own flesh and blood."
"If you know that, and aren't planning to emulate your father, then why are you so worried about ending up like him?"
Bo was stunned, no one had ever talked him through his emotions like that.
"T-that was the only image of a father I ever got. I don't know what a good dad is like. I don't know how "normal" kids who parents actually wanted 'em around had it"
You reached down and grabbed his wrist gently. Bringing it up and rubbing your fingers over his scars, the scars that told many glaring stories of what shaped him into the cold man he was today. You were thawing him out though, slowly but surely.
"You'll learn, No ones saying it'll be easy, but you're capable of running this whole town and taking care of the four of us, I'm sure you'll pick up fatherhood just as quick as anything else."
"Well that ain't my only issue with this whole baby thing though"
"What else is wrong then Bo?"
"It's- It's fuckin'" He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "What if it's twins, and their conjoined like- like me and Vince were."
"Oh Bo"
"We ain't got no doctors here, and it's not like we could go stay in another town for the duration of it that would be too risky, god forbid you have complications too. I just- I don't know if I could do that darlin'"
Everything was coming together and your vision on why Bo was so angry was becoming clearer and clearer. Bo wasn't angry at you, he was scared of loosing you. Scared of being alone when he had finally found something he never thought he would ever get to have.
"Bo honey, I know it's scary, but what happened with you and Vince was rare. There's no guarantee that this baby will even be twins. You should've brought this all to me instead of just yelling."
"I know darlin', I should've went about it better. But I guess when you told me you were pregnant I- I got scared. The entire time you've been here I've had these scenarios in my head, worryin' about what would happen"
You were speechless as you watch as he turned away from you and began pacing again, this time without the yelling. The entire time you had known Bo you had never known him to be one to talk about his feelings. "I'm not a fuckin' pussy" He was remark to you when you would ask him what was wrong.
The front door swung open as Vincent returned from the wax museum. Bo stopped as your gazes moved to Vince who was now frozen in the doorway of the living room.
"Am I interrupting something?"
Vincent signed. You looked at him apologetically before flicking your eyes over to Bo to see what he would say.
"Nah Vince it's nothin'. Just uh- She's pregnant is all"
Vincent perked up and his gaze immediately flicked over to you.
"Really?"
He signed, giving off an aura of excitement. You nodded at him and mustered a smile
"I'm gonna be an uncle!. I'll start reading dad's old medical books and learn things to help with the delivery"
"Now Vince we ain't even-"
"I know he had an entire book about it, I'll start getting set up for prenatal appointments too. Maybe we could even go to the next town over for checkups and stuff, we'll need stuff for the baby too"
Vincent kept rambling in sign, something he did often. You couldn't help but laugh at his childlike wonder at the prospect of being an uncle. You looked over to Bo, who was noticeably less tense as he watched his twin's excitement over the new member of the family.
"Vince chill out for a sec, having this baby is so risky. What if it's twin and they come out like us? You're gonna separate 'em?"
"Well all things considered, the pregnancy only has a one in 250 chance of becoming a twin pregnancy. Plus we're identical twins, only fraternal ones run in families which means two separate eggs would have to be fertilized instead of the egg splitting."
Bo and you look at Vincent in dumbfounded shock as he signed the information as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Where the hell did ya learn all that?"
Bo asked still in shock as he looked at his brother as if he had grown another head.
"In dad's old medical books" Vincent shrugged "I'll leave you two alone now though, I should go get researching"
Vincent signed in reply before turning and heading upstairs to his bedroom. When you heard Vincent's bedroom door close you turned back to look at Bo who was already looking at you when your eyes met his. A lighter mood fell over the living room and smile at him.
"A one in 250 chance huh?"
"Yeah, I reckon so"
"You wanna take that chance daddy?"
All the emotions of the night wash over Bo's face as he thinks for a moment then answers.
"If you think it's a good idea, can't really argue with facts I suppose. But there's gonna be rules."
With that Bo is back, the rule making irritable Bo you fell in love with when you rolled into the gas station all those years ago.
"What rules are we talkin' about?"
"For starters your gonna take it easy, when someone comes into town your gonna stay here at the house and out of sight. No heavy lifting, no helping Vincent anymore, no walk-"
"Bo, Just wrap me in bubble wrap then yeah?"
"I mean I could go to the next town over and find somethin-"
"I was joking Bo, You're not wrapping me in a protective layer"
"I can if I want too"
He mumbled under his breath. I bit back a laugh and rolled my eyes.
"Whatever you say Bo"
"Hey I run this town-"
Bo begins the spiel you've heard about 20,000 times since you began living here as you walk into the kitchen, the cravings starting to take over, as he follows you to explain how he runs the town and how what he says goes and if he has to make more rules to keep you he will.
As you stand in the kitchen, eating your snack and listening to Bo's spiel. Something deep down inside you, lets a feeling wash over you that maybe just maybe, everything will be just fine.
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shibaraki · 1 year
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OUR NORMAL ┊ BAKUGO KATSUKI
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tags: GN reader, older pro hero bakugo, reader and bakugo are in their late thirties, bestfriends to life partners, no sexualities stated, queerplatonic relationships, discussions of the future, fluff and casual affection
wc: 1.2k
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Everything is warm. The early morning breeze as it skims your cheek, lighter than the heavy blanket strewn across your lap, cooler than the thumb tracing over the back of your hand.
Bakugo Katsuki felt like an extension of yourself. You loved him intensely. Not familial, not romantic. A little out of the norm, his father would say. This thing between you had never been clarified; it never needed to be. More than a best friend and not quite lovers. Your relationship wasn’t a case of one or the other, there was no part of a map that your finger could fall and detail the journey.
It just was.
Only an hour ago you had crawled out of bed and padded into the kitchen with the pillow case still impressed on your face, rubbing at the swell of affection ballooning behind your fourth rib. Side stepping toward the coffee maker, he’d met your eyes with the beginnings of a tired smile in the short moment your bodies mirrored one another.
Plates in hand, without words he would ask, Balcony?
Decaf with sweetener, light on the milk. You, holding a pair of matching mugs, will nod. Yes.
Breakfast eaten in quiet contentment, you sink back into the cushioned porch swing and enjoy the gentle swaying motion. Now an integral part of your daily routine, it is big and gaudy and not at all suitable for the space. Even still, he had let you buy it.
Hands entwined in your lap, your head lolls onto his shoulder. Katsuki’s breathing doesn’t change, nor do his sights flicker to the movement. Peering up at him from his angle provides you with the generous opportunity of drinking in his aging features.
There’s light stubble shading his jawline, which has softened over the years. Cutting through his right eyebrow to his temple is a jagged line of scar tissue, and another, fainter, diagonally over the bridge of his nose. The crows feet by his eyes deepen when he smiles, when he bares his teeth, when he laughs; as do the lines by his mouth.
“Happy birthday, old man,” you murmur. A grin tugs at your lips. “The big three nine. I can’t believe you’ll be forty next year”.
He snorts, jostling you slightly. “Speak for yourself. Hell, I can’t believe you’ve been bothering me for nearly two decades”.
“Like a rash,” you exhale an airy, pleased sigh as you solemnly nod. “You like it”.
A younger Katsuki would have forcefully pushed the swing chair back and sent your body reeling with a loud cackle to distract from the answer written so plainly on his face. Now he simply turns his lips to your temple and says, “Debatable”.
You hum contentedly, a deep sense of belonging settling in your bones. It would strike any other person watching as unusual — for years now your relationship with Katsuki had been built up by small intimacies and intense commitment that most only ever attributed to romance, yet still the two of you insisted it was nothing of the sort.
And it wasn’t. There had been plenty others; some of which you still talk to from time to time; those who parted ways with you amicably wearing a sad, knowing smile; others that pointed an accusatory finger and fled. You cared for Katsuki in such a way that it intimidated the people around you, and drove them off.
They all told you the same thing verbatim: Friends don’t act like that.
Your nails strum nervously against the ceramic mug as you watch the young family in the complex across from you gather on their own balcony to eat breakfast. The interlocked hands in your lap feel that much heavier.
“So. What’re we gonna tell your parents this year?” you cautiously prod, knowing he had never been a fan of these conversations. “Your mother still thinks you’re lying to her about us out of spite”.
“There’s nothing to tell them. S’not like we’re a proper couple,” he replies with a shrug, cadence smooth and low, as if it were just an inoffensive truth. As if he had never thought anything more of it.
Usually you’d laugh it off and agree. Because Katsuki was right in a sense — you were not a couple. Yet you ask, “Aren’t we?”
The sunlight pools in his iris and it glows when he glances at you from the corner of his eye. Izuku once admitted that he thinks you make Kacchan softer but you’re more inclined to believe the reverse. A simmering, constant source of warmth. Katsuki has always been synonymous with comfort.
“That isn’t a discussion I recall having,” he rasps, still a little sleep worn.
You huff a laugh, knocking your head against his shoulder, “I know. I just… we are. A pair, I mean”.
A small sound of contemplation rumbles in his throat as his gaze returns to the bruised horizon. A crease forms across the bridge of his nose and you quell the urge to touch it. One, two, three, your attention is drawn to the rhythmic tap of his finger against his empty mug. “A pair?”
“Yeah. We go together,” you feel a smile curling at the corner of your lips. “You’re important to me, and you’re my partner. We practically spent our lives together. What else would you call it?”
You watch the emotions pass over his face as he processes your answer. “Dunno,” he eventually breathes. “There was never a label to stick on it. We were always just us”.
You feel yourself simper, ducking to tuck your cheek closer to his shoulder, nuzzling into him. The gentle scent of body wash and fabric softener clouds your senses. “Just us,” you repeat quietly. “…Do you ever see that changing?”
His jaw clicks shut and he shakes his head in disagreement. The stubble on his chin rubs against your skin. Emboldened, you continue, “So why not just spend what’s left of our lives together, like this?”
His thumb slides over your third knuckle and idly skims the empty space on your ring finger. Even the media had been bugging him about 'proposing' to you, despite never confirming a relationship in the first place. At some point he had simply given up on correcting them.
“We can’t. It’s not…”
“Normal?”
Katsuki grunts. The wrinkle between his brow deepens with his frown, and there are faint dimples in his chin that are only ever visible when he pouts. “It’d be our normal,” you offer lightly. “We already share an apartment. A life. Nothing would need to be different”.
“I really don’t see myself caring about someone romantically as much as I care about you, Katsuki”.
When Katsuki feels embarrassed his entire body announces it. He scoffs harshly, shifting in his seat as he turns his head away from you to hide the pale flush of pink staining his cheeks. You fall into a comfortable, albeit pensive silence. Now was the time to back away and allow him time to file through his thoughts. Despite having mellowed out in his later years, he still struggled with finding the right words from time to time.
Clink. He sets the empty mug down on the small glass table, free hand returning to pick at the seam of his sweatpants. The porch swing begins to move again. Pushing the heel of his foot to the ground, Katsuki languidly rocks your bodies back and forth.
“The old hag wouldn’t get it,” he murmurs.
The knots of anticipation slowly untangle from your ribs and breathing comes a little easier. “She doesn’t have to,” you reply. “But I think she’ll be happy to know we have each other. Your dad, too”.
Those sharp, carmine eyes meet yours once more. “Yeah?” he asks.
You nod, “Yeah”.
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steakout-05 · 19 days
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i was thinking about how it took me a while to figure out i'm aegosexual (which basically means that there's a disconnect between yourself and being the subject of attraction) and i thought about how much i really dislike and just cannot see myself in slash reader fics. i tend to dislike these fics for multiple reasons, but some of them include that the reader self insert is usually really boring, has no personality outside of being lovey dovey and isn't unhinged enough for certain characters for reasons outside of contrasting personalities for my tastes (like spamton for example, why are you writing a normal protagonist to pair with fuckin spamton of all characters). but another reason is that i literally cannot connect myself to the reader self insert. like i cannot imagine myself in their place at all, it's always another stand-in that i imagine instead and thinking about myself in their place makes me uncomfortable. i can't see myself in their place because i don't see myself as a subject of attraction, and i'm repulsed to that idea. so i imagine someone else instead because that's better to me. and also because of the aforementioned reasons that have more to do with the writing of the self insert, i just cannot imagine myself acting the way the self insert does because I Personally Would Not Fucking Do That™. like i would not be romantically kissing a guy on a date, i would be infodumping about my special interests for 3 hours and then start ranting about how funny cars are while he just smiles and nods lmao
this is why i've never really self-shipped with any character. like i can be attracted to them and be like "i wanna hold his hand/kiss him/do inexplicable things to his psyche", but in reality i could never actually see myself as a subject of attraction by this character, so i'd either ship them with another character i like or imagine a sort of stand-in that has some of my traits and lives out my fantasies but still isn't me. i can fall in love but i can never connect because ew that's gross and weird. watching from the sidelines by reading fics and looking at fanart about characters being shipped with others and being intimate with each other is more my cup of tea.
#aegosexual#also i'm not like. sad about this or anything#maybe i'm a little disappointed that i probably won't experience some things but i'm not like. crying about it.#i literally don't care about it and i think i actually prefer it this way#being seen as something arousing is fucking disgusting and weird in a bad way to me and i don't think i should ignore how i feel just to-#-experience something i won't enjoy.#i just want to watch my little fictional men hold each other and kick my legs like an excited schoolboy about it in peace#also unpopular opinion but slash reader fics SUUUUUUCK and i'd rather read something else instead#now let's sit back and watch literally everyone get mad at that opinion lmao#i'm kidding i'm kidding you're obviously free to enjoy slash reader fics#i just find them to be completely unrelatable and i feel like throwing a self insert into the mix kinda ruins the whole dynamic for me#like i just personally find the idea of meddling in that character's life and being their hubby to be very unattractive#especially when the self insert is so barebones that there's no chemistry#we need more slash reader fics that are just an expression of how much the reader admires the character and nothing more i think#idk maybe i just haven't read enough slash reader fics to appreciate them as their own thing disconnected from me but i really just kinda-#-don't like them because the ones i've read were mostly kinda boring..... sorrgy#i always preferred projection anyway#although i do like dating sims. of course i don't attach myself to the MC but i do like them more than reader fics. i wonder why that is.#probably because the MC tends to have more character traits i guess? so then i can just consider them to be a different person-#-and i'm just pressing buttons for them#it's more free and directional i guess
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nostalgia-tblr · 1 year
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I had another fic idea and the brain was like "no, that's too fluffy and romantic and YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO WRITE NICE THINGS, PEOPLE WOULD JUDGE YOU" but then I went "but what if it was kind of... comedy fluff?" and brain went "...yeah, okay, if you really must." Which I fucking HATE! Why can't I write nice things, brain?! Everyone else is allowed to! FFS, it's fanfiction, it doesn't have to be ~deep~ or any of that shit!
This has actually been a bit of an issue when I'm trying to write The WIP because while I told myself yeah sure go ahead and write the massively self-indulgent epically long (by my own odd standards) fic but still sometimes I get stuck because I'm not "allowed" to write something that appeals to me and my own sometimes niche interests??
Like angst I can do because that's "proper" somehow? WTF is that about? It's not proper! It's still daft! And comedy I'm allowed because I dunno apparently if it will make someone laugh that means it has "value"? It's very annoying, I don't like it.
Do other people have this? How do you deal with it? You'd think after all this time I'd be okay with writing any old shit that I want to. If anything it might be worse now. I remember years ago I could tell myself "Look, if you've spelled most of it correctly then it's already in like the better half of all the fanfic on the internet" which isn't really TRUE but I could go along with that and let myself write whatever-the-fuck I wanted to.
You know how many of us go "I'll write this fucked up thing... but I'll post it as Anon"? I get that with fluffy fic ideas as well. Or with things that are "too shippy" (WTF?) It's just such a stupid and weird form of self-criticism and it bothers me a lot.
#ranting at myself#writing stuff#possibly this is a mental illness thing but i don't think it is but it might be?#i am Quite Mad but it usually manifests related to fic as the usual “you suck!!” or irritating OCD things about wordcounts or such#this is a VERY SPECIFIC thing and i don't even know where it came from?#maybe i'm just pretentious? do i look pretentious? i might be?#(the fluffy thing was sylki fic where spinning off on the 'oh no unable to express feelings!' they have to pass each other notes)#(the comedy element was that this is Bloody Stupid and also Mobius attempts to Help (oh no) and etc)#(will i ever be able/“allowed” to actually write that thing? dunno!)#the Frigga thing also suffers from “that bit is despicably adorable you should be ASHAMED of yourself”#.The WIP? currently stuck at “okay now he needs to Hold The Baby. this is an important bit you can't skip it. but babies are Too Twee”#“so you may NOT just write someone Holding The Baby because that's like something people might actually want to read!”#“the murders are fine you can write murders. murder isn't twee. babies are VERY twee though.”#PROBLEM: there are several babies in this fic and the next chapter is like... ENTIRELY baby-based#(the end of the entire fic is already written and it's Too Twee as well but i've kind of gone immune to that because it's existed a while)#(oh no did i just spoiler a Happy Ending?!)#(SPOILER: kind of. it depends who you backed in this race and whether you wanted them to Become Better People)#anyway am gonna post this now before i change my mind as i probably should#fic related
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> posts a fic i'm proud of about dark subject matter to do with five and his abuse, which came from a very personal place, on AO3
> gets a comment
> it is, Course, a hate comment from an anti, demanding on anon to know why i would 'spend my value as a writer who's read Legacies' to write it
> roasts their ass like a thanksgiving turkey and immediately goes to write more of the thing
#LL tag#antis cw#the entitlement is unreal and it Will get you made fun of sorry#like for one thing first and foremost my art is for me; unless i am specifically writing something as a gift for someone else#which i do when i do it because it brings me joy#but also i do find happiness; joy; and fulfillment in posting art that i made for myself; and it being meaningful to other people#i've got LL fics that are ten years old that people still mention having loved now and then; and that i still get kudos on#and it is so humbling in the best way; i cannot express how much my opinion on it is not 'lol go fuck yourselves i don't care'#.......BUT. your 'value' as a writer/artist/etc in fandom is not something you '''spend'''#you are a *person* who shared your time and effort and a little part of your soul#that nourishes people it resonates with; until they have enough left over to maybe share some of theirs right back#a fandom that is good for you and treating you decently will leave you with more of yourself to share; not less#the value you are bringing to a fandom is *you*#what your value to the fandom is *not* is#'someone who's read the thing i like; puts words on paper; and is therefore categorically capable of making content for me to consume'#'and ONLY content for ME to consume'#'if you write anything i don't want to read you are personally taking food out of the mouths of me and my starving children'#writers and artists in fandom are not ATMs for the fandom to leave empty#and if anyone tries to treat you like one they're an entitled weirdo who's actively dehumanizing you & i advise you to drop their ass & run#anyway i just have a lot of thoughts about the subject and i am grateful to people in fandom who aren't Like This#whereas anon can use the block button or cry themself to sleep at night every time i post another fic about five being an abuse survivor#the salt files#abuse mention cw#grooming mention cw
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mieczyhale · 1 year
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i typed these tags on somebody’s post, due to it and then a ficlet someone had added on, but i decided it would be rude to reblog with my tags. BUT i still wanna share my stance on this Totally Important Topic so thank u, copy / paste
#i'm ngl #if you're playing in a campaign and your dm s/o is not the dm you're playing with - and your s/o has an ongoing campaign that they are not #only willing to add you to but wants to add you to but 1. you refuse 2. you wont say why - that's pretty shitty #especially if your dm s/o is someone who has been playing as long as eddie and is as passionate about it #i mean i guess at the very least he should've been honest. that part alone is its own kind of shit #but he should be in eddie's campaign #or both #you can be in more than one campaign at a time believe it or not #josh used to do that #it's not uncommon if you have more than one friend that's a dm #idk man #this kind of plot in st fics just bothers the shit out of me #the only real funny thing here is the ending but otherwise im just like 'mmm. gross.'
#this is about erica being steve's dm#and ynow what??#only semi-related side bitch:#fics where steve does play in eddie's campaign and somehow ruins it - either one night or the whole thing - and then is smug about it#like those arent a lot of work to put together. like his boyfriend didnt put his whole heart soul and dick into it only for him to guess#something or spoil something or just be more obnoxious than any of the other teens combined. and the ones where eddie gets#genuinely upset about (any of the above) and the author doesnt allow him to be. like he immediately forgives steve or steve uses#sex as a way to stop eddie from being mad about it. like a thing i see in fics and absolutely hate is not letting eddie have feelings#especially negative ones when it comes to other people. unless its like.. annoyance. or if he IS allowed to feel something if he tries#to express it within a paragraph or two they have him all chill now or understanding or admitting that the other people was right in however#they upset him. now its not like he's the only character this happens to be jesus fucking christ#i may or may not have been holding onto a lot of negative feelings about fanfics for the last... while#doesnt help that im in an Easily Annoyed time myself#and ynow what else?? i've seen a lot of bitchass reactors lately - especially for that show that's also a book. book fans for that bitch are#some of the most obnoxious people on the goddamn planet i want to hammer their kneecaps and bust through the drywall in their houses#maison speaks
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screampied · 1 month
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Servant who is in love with Sukuna and he finally gives her a "taste" of himself, but then she cums quickly and without permission and gets punished to overstimulation 😭 drabble or fic I'd be very happy either way
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❤︎ ໋𓈒 sukuna punishing his favorite servant
warnings. fem! reader, size kink, spit, cowgirl, impact play, degredation, mdni.
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“hmph. woman. come here,” he’d say in a gruff voice, two simple words and he had you at your very mercy. as you trod your feet towards him, the last thing you expected was for sukuna to give you a kiss. the kiss was passionate with such roughness attached to it, you moaned before feeling the king’s hand wrap around your throat. he was always so handsy too, especially with you. sukuna was merely fooling around, yet as for you, you were deeply in love with him.
stupid, perhaps. but you craved his attention.
it’d be simplistic things like that, it always started with a kiss. a kiss that never failed to leave you speechlessly dumbfounded.
his taste, you were entirely obsessed with it. a sweetness that forever lingered off his tongue. you couldn’t describe it into words, but it was purely appetizing.
as of currently though, you’d be sat on his lap whilst he’s manspread on his throne. it was awfully quiet, just the two of you.
you’re hovering over his hardened length before breathing in a single breath. “sukuna,” you’d pout, and he’s just blankly staring at you coldly—an unreadable expression, although he found your consistent pouting to be oddly amusing. humans were so fascinating to him. “can i touch myself now?”
“little girl,” he tsks, a hand going around your hip. your breathing hitches from his touch before you’re just hovering barely over his leaky tip now. “it’s sir to you. and what did i tell you about asking stupid questions, hm?”
“but ‘kuna,” you’d frown, and he loathed hearing you have the audacity to shorten his name. he told you to address him as something otherwise, and you completely steered clear from it.
quite the brat you were.
stupid stupid stupid…
but he secretly loved it, only you could get away with something like that. anyone else with the balls would find themselves practically dead. perhaps sukuna has somewhat of a soft spot for his servant, but of course he’d never mention that to you, not in a million years.
“but nothing,” he snarls, and you moan once you start to slowly sink yourself down into his length. so thick, you already started to feel your salivating. sukuna brings a hand to grip your chin, and he makes you stare right into his eyes. “touching is deserved. you gotta deserve it, get it?”
“no,” you grumble, and he smirks.
“well boo hoo, too fuckin’ bad,” he speaks in a raspy tone, and his words alone were enough to have you sopping wet.
it was embarrassing, you were embarrassing…
you didn’t care though, your arms wrap around his neck before you start to gradually grind yourself against him. his shaft stood tall, and for a split second you could feel him pulsate the further he deepens himself into you. your walls grip him tightly like a vice, and it makes him poke a tongue into his hollow cheek.
“mhmm,” he groans, the utter feeling of your cunt swallowing him whole always gets to him.
forever entangled with your warmth, you spot his fangs poke out with his maw slightly opened and it’s cute. you could just about make out a dimple or two on the king’s face. “don’t look at me, move your hips ‘n make yourself u-useful.”
a stutter, you merely giggle but you didn’t wanna test your luck. at least not just yet.
cruel darkened irises stare into yours the entire time, and it takes a good moment until you’re finally in. it makes him gnaw on his lip at how warm you were from the inside. already soaked and ready for him, he leans further back against the material of his throne before grunting.
“…move,” he sighs, gifting your ass with a mean abrupt spank. “you wanted to ride me so ride me, girl.”
you quavered, feeling your cunt twitch and spasm all from the way he sank into you.
it was so lewd, you buried your face into his neck and he just rolls his eyes before an awkward hand pats your head.
“s-so biiiig,” you’d whimper out, and whilst he’s going even further by filling you full of such thick sultry inches, you whine. the feeling of being split in two with your wetness—your love cave that had him addicted made you let off the sweetest gasp. he’s resuming to bury himself into you, and the minute you create up a swift tempo—your knees were ready to just about buckle.
it’s entirely cute, you felt him twitch from the inside and you couldn’t help but slump further into his broad chest.
sukuna snickers at your … interesting durability so to speak.
all the way in and not even moments later—you were fairly worn out. just about. “awh. tapping out on me already i see?” he purrs in a sly tone, a teasing gesture of his hand runs down your back. “and you were so confident earlier too. oh, how disappointing..”
“n—no, i can take you,” you mumble with glossy lips, and his touch against your skin made you let off repetitive soft spoken moans. a thumb of his strokes against the corners of your waist as you rutted yourself back and forth. your rhythm was purely hypnotic, entirely so that it makes him groan for a bit.
his fat tip prods against your slick outer labia and it runs against your entrance. he likes to do a certain motion—pulling out, only to stuff you right back full, he wants you to feel it. feel him and all of his inches, his girth that consumes into your cunt. as he’s stuffing you so full, you can’t help but drool a bit. a bit as in a lot. sukuna’s eyes linger towards you for a long time before he grips your chin once more.
“can you really…?” he hums, and it’s as if he’s challenging you. “or are you just saying that?”
you glare and he only returns with a subtle smirk, he liked getting under your skin. it was his favorite pastime, irking those cute nerves of yours. from the inside, he couldn’t get over how soft you were. such warm walls hugging all around him so tightly, it felt natural. your sopping wet cunt grips against him time and time again—squelch after squelch that it sounds like a melodic harmony.
a lewd melodic harmony.
he watches as your lips part, and you’re struggling to conceal those moans. you whimper from each thrust that it’s got your thighs growing numb in no time.
“f-fuckkk,” you’d whine, feeling sukuna’s cock briefly pull back from your wet folds. whenever he did that, it felt so good…. too good. sukuna’s hefty base thwacked against you in the process too, on loop, a constant salacious repeat. it had you dizzy, you’re grinding and swiveling your hips at such a hectic pace that you can’t even stop yourself. your mouth felt dry, just being sweetly stretched over nothing but a mere squeezing muscle from the inside.
it’s so hot tempered, your warmth had him kissing his teeth in such arousal, such pleasure.
“sukunaaa,” you’d whine once his dick runs against the corners of your inner walls, all throughout your canal. he reaches everywhere, he’s lengthy too, so there’s not a single spot that he misses. he slides in and out, and his base was so fat and thick, so full that it just mimics your movements of being hit against. “i— i’m gonna,” and you abruptly get cut off with a rough kiss.
your moans slither its way into his mouth as your hands ran down his ripped chest, feeling against his tatted body. the battle scars that perfectly painted his broad figure like a canvas, you return the kiss before he precipitously pulls away. a glossed string of spit departs, and sukuna glares at you. “wait, girl.”
and it sounds more like a warning than anything.
his tone being hidden with such baritone underneath it, you were even more soaked. whenever he pitched his tone to show his dominance like that, his authority—you felt yourself pulse for the umpteenth time.
he tells you to wait, but instead you do the exact opposite.
you don’t even realize you came all on his cock until he’s greeting you with the most livid glare imaginable—still, sukuna grabs your hips before muttering. “did you just cum? and don’t lie to me, woman.”
if you aren’t twitching as much as you were before, you certainly were now. the air felt thick, and whilst you straddled him, you shyly reply with a mumbling, “…sorry.”
you don’t mean to giggle after that…
but you do—the soft smile that curls against your lips meets his gaze and sukuna suddenly makes himself pull out. “so funny, huh?” and you’re taken by surprise the moment he makes you part your legs. his right thigh goes between your legs from underneath and you moan once he spanks you. “some fuckin’ audacity you have. ain’t no one told you to finish,” and he grips your chin, giving it a squeeze. “look at me when i speak to you, woman.”
he was so close you could just kiss him. your lashes were half-lidded, and you were so drawn into him that you don’t even realize that he’s shoved two fingers into your cunt. you moaned at how easily it goes in. he swirls his digits inside just briefly, taking it out before bringing it towards your mouth. “open your mouth ‘n stick out your tongue, brat.”
you were amused, aroused too but surely amused.
without question, you loll out your tongue in front of him, only for sukuna to shove his fingers right down your throat. you moan at the candied taste of yourself, so sweet. he remains with a glare on his face as you lapped up his fingers clean, you weren’t supposed to be enjoying that.
“such a disobedient girl,” he huffs, and that’s when he pulls out his fingers, a sheen stringy coat of your own saliva dribbles down your chin before he smears it all over your mouth.
“since you wanna be a impatient whore, that’s all the taste you’ll be getting today. ‘m expecting a thank you, little girl. go on, i’ll wait.”
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littledovesnow · 4 months
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a growing family
request(s): Reader and Coriolanus have a little fight, and Reader blurts out she's pregnant. AND corio when you tell him you’re pregnant? maybe even him going to the doctor with you?? I love ur fics <3
word count: 2.1k
content warnings: pregnancy, little angst (like a smidgen of it, you gotta squint to see it), little bit of mean coriolanus
You stared at the calendar that was pinned to the corkboard, heart hammering in your chest so bad you could hear it.
“No, no, no.” You mumbled, running a hand through your hair, getting stuck in a few tangles.
Not wanting to face your husband when he got home, you grabbed your purse and headed down the grand staircase and out of the apartment, walking over the Corso’s small grass area and up to the Snow’s apartment.
Knocking on the door, you looked at your chipped nail polish until the door flung open, Tigris appearing on the other side.
She had a wide smile on her face, but it fell as soon as she saw your expression. “What’s wrong?” She asked, pulling you into the apartment.
You looked down the hall to see if the Grandma’am was home. “You have to promise not to tell your cousin.”
Tigris’ eyes grew, and she looked you up and down. “What? Why? What are you-”
“I’m late.”
It took a moment before Tigris’ head snapped up, eyes meeting your own. “You- have you gone to a doctor yet?”
Shaking your head, you let out a tearful laugh. “Are you kidding? As soon as anyone sees me walking into an obstetrician’s office, they’ll run to the Capitol News fast as lightning. I want to tell Coriolanus myself; I don’t want him to find out from the paper.”
Tigris frowned. “How late are you?”
“A couple weeks. I lost track of time, and I was stressed so I assumed it was just late. But then I was taking a shower and the smell of my body wash made me want to throw up. And- oh my God, my boobs hurt so bad.”
Tigris laughed, sending you an apologetic look. “You’ll need to tell Coryo soon. I think he wants to go out to some of the Districts and do some press soon.”
It was true, Coriolanus had brought the idea up the other night at dinner, wanting to start gathering a following for the upcoming election now that President Ravenstill had announced he would be stepping down due to his poor health.
Nodding, you toyed with the loose hem of your jacket, tears coming to your eyes again. “I know, I’m going to. I just don’t want him to get mad. We’ve always talked about starting a family once he’s more established in the field.”
Tigris said your name softly, grabbing your hands. “I know Coryo, and I know he won’t get upset. Maybe if you keep this a secret any longer he’ll get a little disgruntled, but he won’t be mad.”
You appreciated the older Snow more than you thought you would, giving her a tight squeeze. “Thank you, Tigris.”
-----
Coriolanus closed the door to the apartment, letting out a sigh as he tried to keep his work and home life separate.
He called your name, walking into the kitchen with the bottle of wine he wanted to surprise you with.
Entering the kitchen, he frowned when he didn’t see you where you were usually humming to something on the radio, looking in the fridge or preparing dinner. As much as he offered to hire an Avox to cook and prepare meals, you declined it; stating you liked being able to make whatever you were hungry for.
“Love?” He called, setting the wine down and moving down the hall to the bedroom, worry growing in the pit of his stomach when you weren’t on the chaise with a book in your hand, as you sometimes were when he worked a little later than usual.
He heard a shuffle in the bathroom, behind the closed door.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” He asked, opening the door slowly, stepping in when he saw you sitting against the tub, hair pulled back crudely.
“Hi, Coryo.” You threw him a smile, though it looked more like a grimace given your current situation.
Kneeling down, Coriolanus moved some of the hair that was still growing out from the bangs, frown on his face. “What’s wrong, why didn’t you send for me? Dr. Gaul would’ve let me leave. She’s got a soft spot for you, you know.”
You leaned into Coriolanus’ hand, small groan coming out of your mouth. “Didn’t want to bother you. It’ll pass in a few minutes.”
“And how are you so certain about that?” Coriolanus mused, rubbing your back as you leaned over the porcelain bowl once more.
Once you were sure you were done, you slowly rose, Coriolanus with a careful grasp on your hip to keep you upright.
“Because,” you took a swig of the water glass you had poured earlier, spitting into the sink basin. “I felt like this yesterday, too.”
Coriolanus’ hand moved to your forehead, feeling for a fever. “You don’t feel feverish. Perhaps it’s that new jam you’ve put on your toast this morning. Did you have it yesterday, too?”
Looking at him in the mirror’s reflection, you simply nodded, even though you did not. “Yeah, probably just a bad batch.”
Coriolanus helped you to the bed, hand moving along your jaw in admiration. “Why don’t you rest, I’m sure I can scrounge up some soup.”
You nodded, watching your husband’s retreating figure as he disappeared down the hall.
Once you were sure he was out of earshot, you leaned your head against the wall, one hand going to rub on your not-yet-visible bump. “You’ve gotta give me time to tell him.”
-----
It had been two days since Coriolanus found you on the bathroom floor, and he continued to believe that you simply had a small bout of food poisoning, none the wiser to the true reason you were ill only a few times.
Currently, you were sitting next to him, across from the Plinths, who insisted on weekly dinners at their apartment, only a few floors below you and Coriolanus.
An Avox went around pouring wine, pausing when you held a hand over your glass. “None for me, thank you.”
Ma Plinth looked between you and the bottle of wine. “It’s your favorite?”
Smiling, you were going to explain when Coriolanus spoke up for you, comforting hand on your thigh.
“She’s been a little ill the last few days, some food poisoning.”
Not believing it for a second, the older woman simply nodded, letting the Avox pour her another round.
“Coriolanus,” Strabo Plinth spoke up, leaning forward to talk business. “Have you given any thought about visiting the Districts? It would do you well to stop in before you officially start campaigning.”
Though only Capitol residents were eligible to vote in the upcoming election, many candidates made sure to stop into a majority of the Districts to show they aren’t afraid of the rebels, that they can control them if need be.
Coriolanus nodded, setting down his utensils. “I am, yes. Dr. Gaul and I had been talking about a good time for me to take a short leave. It looks like I’ll be able to go in few months, plenty of time before the campaigning will start.”
You mulled over the sentence for a moment, telling yourself now was as good a time as any. “If you go then, I won’t be able to go with you.”
Three sets of eyes focused on you, varying degrees of confusion swimming in all of them. “Why? It will be autumn, perfect season for photography of Panem’s future leading couple.”
Coriolanus quickly thought over any important dates in your family, none that arose during the time you two would be on the train. “It’ll only be a few weeks; we’ll be back in time for your sister’s birthday.”
You smiled at the blonde, looking at Strabo Plinth as he spoke up.
“A man can’t properly campaign without his wife there, how will the Capitol view you as a First Lady if you’re not by his side?”
“Yes, and perhaps seeing a united front will help lessen the threat of another rebellion.” Coriolanus nodded, clinking his glass of whiskey with his late classmate’s father.
Mrs. Plinth, eyes narrowing, seemed to figure out what the men did not. “Honey, why don’t we save this conversation for a better-suited time? I’m sure I can talk to Ravenstill and get him to set up a meeting time between the three of you.”
Strabo Plinth and Coriolanus both seemed content with that, shifting subjects to something you weren’t interested in.
You sent a grateful look to the woman across from you, who simply nodded in return.
-----
“I don’t understand why you don’t want to go visit the Districts with me.” Coriolanus snapped, fingers hastily undoing the tie he despised wearing.
“Coryo, I do want to go with you. It’s just that time won’t be good.” You carefully removed the numerous hairpins from their position at the nape of your neck.
The blonde man grumbled, pulling his shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers. “If we go any sooner or later it’ll be a bad time for my campaigning! Too soon, the news will have moved on to something else, like- like Flickerman’s new parrot!”
You rolled your eyes, struggling to unzip the dress you wore. “Can you-”
“Go any later and it’ll impede the speeches and galas and events I need to be in the Capitol for!” Coriolanus’ voice raised, and you paused to look at him, hand still trying to grab the zipper.
“Coryo.”
Coriolanus threw a hand up, face growing red from anger. “Do you even want me to become President?! To be able to give you all you want, to never have to worry about money, food, anything?”
You were at your wit’s end, hand finally falling from your back. “I do, Coriolanus! I do want you to be the president. But if you travel to the Districts at that time I can’t go with you because I’ll be too pregnant to go with you!”
There was a silence so loud you didn’t dare breathe. “What?” Coriolanus whispered, eyes meeting yours. “Pregnant?”
Nodding, you were once again trying to unzip the dress, huffing as you gave up for good. “Yes, and I had a special dinner planned but you just had to go and ruin it.”
Coriolanus silently moved behind you, carefully unzipping the dress and letting you use his hands for balance as you stepped out of the skirt. “You didn’t have food poisoning, did you?”
Shaking your head, you felt your eyes water. “No.”
You must have looked like a fool, standing there in your undergarments, husband behind you with his dress trousers and socks still on.
“I’m sorry for yelling. I- I’m sure we can still visit the Districts before the election, just a more abbreviated tour than planned.”
You laughed, a watery, light laugh. It was music to Coriolanus’ ears. “Whatever you want, Mr. President.”
-----
Your knee was bouncing rapidly, the only telltale sign of your anxiety.
Coriolanus had gone forth and scheduled an appointment with the Capitol’s best obstetrician, going to far as to personally thank them for agreeing to see you at such an early time. He also laid out the threat that if anything were to happen to you during the pregnancy that could have been stopped, the obstetrician would never see their family again, but that wasn’t for you to worry about.
“Love, you don’t need to be nervous. I’ll be with you.” Coriolanus mumbled, hand moving from behind your chair to your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the side.
“I know, I just- this is our first child, Coryo.” You looked up at him. “I can’t help but be nervous.”
Coriolanus smiled, pressing his lips to your temple. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”
The nurse came out and escorted you two back to the exam room, instructing you to pull your shirt up as she squirted gel onto your stomach.
You and Coriolanus watched her every move, anxiety sky-rocketing as she frowned at the screen.
“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus asked, hand gripping your own.
“I just- let me get the doctor to confirm, give me one moment.” She didn’t look back as she left the room, leaving you and Coirolanus to soak in an anxiety-filled silence.
Only a few moments passed before the nurse returned, doctor in tow, and she also moved the wand around. “Ah, yes. You are correct.”
“What?” You asked, eyes flitting between the medical professionals and the back of the computer.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Snow. You’re having twins.”
-----
a/n: send requests here
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verstappen-cult · 2 months
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Okay so this is my first request even having but I just had this random idea. So basically I had knee surgery recently (won't get into that 😂) but I was just wondering if you could write a fic about lestappen where their girlfriend gets surgery and basically the whole thing is just fluff tbh add whatever u want or whatever surgery if u write this. But I just feel like they would definitely make me feel loved after surgery
“Are you comfortable?” Max asks, fluffing the pillows behind your head.
It’s the third time he asks you the same question in a span of ten minutes. You don’t want to be rude, he’s just trying to help, so you smile up at him.
“Yes, baby. Thank you.” He opens his mouth to speak again but you beat him to it. “Weren’t you going to stream today?”
Max frowns at you, and shakes his head. “No, I told the boys I won’t be present today. I’ll be taking care of you.”
Your heart melts. If it weren’t for the surgery you just had that makes it a little difficult to move, you would be getting up to kiss him.
“I won’t go anywhere, and I already have everything I need here,” You take his hand, caressing the inside of his wrist with your thumb. “You can go, I’ll call you if I need anything. Besides, you know how much I like to watch your streams.”
“Are you sure?”
You nod, “Yes, go!”
Max leans and kisses you gently, being very careful, and then flies out of the room shouting something similar to I love you.
You reach for your laptop, ready to watch your boyfriend. And he really wastes no time because in less than five minutes he’s joining the stream, the viewers going absolutely crazy about him.
“I wasn’t going to join today, Crane. But my girlfriend insisted!” Max says and you can’t help but smile.
“She had surgery recently, no?”
“Yeah, nothing too serious. She’s resting now,” Then he looks at the camera and has the audacity to wink.
The stream goes like any other, they joke around, they play and joke some more. You don’t even notice when an hour has passed, it’s only when you look up to see Charles at the bedroom door that you realize how late it is.
“Charlieee, I missed you.” You pout, making grabby hands at him. He immediately makes his way to you, leaning to leave a kiss on your forehead. “What took you so long?”
“I couldn’t find the medicine you needed but I got everything after searching literally everywhere.” He takes off his jacket, sighing. “I picked us some dinner, too. Where’s Max?”
“Streaming.” You say, pointing to the screen where he’s looking very focused and hot.
“What?!”
But before you can beg him not to say anything, he’s already storming out, going directly to Max’s streaming room. You can’t move but you still have a front row seat.
Looking back at the screen, you see Charles’ legs coming into view. You see in slow motion how he removes Max’s headphones off his head with a little more force than necessary.
Max turns around and a smile makes its way into his face. “Hey love, didn’t hear you come in.”
“You left her alone?! She just had surgery and you left her alone?!”
“She insisted!”
“You should’ve said no!” Charles gives Max’s shoulder a little push and storms out.
You can hear him saying something in French from your room, and you know he’s just cursing Max for leaving you alone.
You hear Max’s friends laughing and making fun of him while your boyfriend looks embarrassed, cheeks impossibly red. He says a quick goodbye before shutting everything down.
Charles enters the room, brows furrowed.
“You didn’t have to do that.” You say, trying to look more angry than amused. “He didn’t want to but I insisted.”
“I told him to take care of you while I was out, was that so hard?”
Max shows up then, shoulders slumped and looking like a kicked puppy.
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t need you to be by my side every hour of the day.”
Charles' expression relaxes and he opens his mouth to argue, but you raise your hand to stop him.
“I’m not finished,” He closes his mouth and you sigh before saying, “Max, come here.” He immediately does, sitting by your side. “You’re gonna apologize to him now.” You speak to Charles this time, looking intently at him.
Charles lets his head fall forward. Now he’s the one who looks like a kicked puppy and you try very hard not to laugh.
“I’m sorry,” He mumbles, getting up just to sit at the other side of his boyfriend.
“It’s not like you left me alone yesterday so coy could play some FIFA while Max was training.”
Max gasps, clearly offended, “I want a public apology.”
“It was supposed to be a secret!” Charles groans and you slap his arm.
The smile is back on Max’s face.
“They’re gonna make fun of me for life.”
“They already make fun of you, Maxie.”
“Okay, rude.”
“And by the way,” Charles glares at you, pointing an accusatory finger at your face. “We’re just trying to take care of you. I don’t care if we annoy you, we’re not gonna stop.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Charles shuts you up with a kiss. He does the same with Max, peppering his face with kisses as an apology too. “I’ll grab dinner and we can watch a movie.”
Max stands up and follows Charles out of the room.
“I want to help too!”
“No!” they shout from the kitchen.
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littlejuicebox · 5 months
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My Sun, My Moon
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Pairing: Spawn Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3 / Part 2 to my other fic Astarion talks in his sleep. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / In game spoilers / Alludes to sexual encounters / Mentions of past trauma etc / Pretty much all fluff / It’s so sweet it’s going to rot your teeth Word Count: 2.3K Notes: This is 5/5 Days of "Star-mas!"
*takes a bow* Happy Holidays! Hope you all enjoyed!
I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "twinkling lights."
Click here to see my master list.
-----
After Astarion’s sleep-talking gave away his little secret, you’d spent nearly every waking moment anticipating the rogue’s proposal. You were horribly, terribly wrong every time, of course. You began to think that perhaps your original assumptions were right, and that an engagement would come much later on. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready. Maybe he was just planning and thinking about the future… the frustratingly distant future. He’d ask the question when he was ready, you reasoned; in his own time and on his own terms. You could respect that.
But then, on the eve of the Netherbrain Battle’s six month anniversary, you came home to a dinner that Astarion had cooked (almost) entirely himself. Candles were lit, table settings were placed, and your lover chose an expensive wine pairing for the meal. His steak was, of course, entirely raw while yours was seasoned and cooked to perfection. You were certain you had Shadowheart to thank for your half of the meal, but you’d complimented your lover and all his efforts, nonetheless. At the end of dinner, you were quite confident that this would be the moment you’d been waiting weeks for.
“I have something to say.” Astarion murmured, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he clasped it in his own.
You practically felt your soul leave your body in that moment. Oh gods, you knew what your answer would be, you knew this was coming, and yet here it was, and you were still wholly unprepared. You barely fumbled out a, “Y-yes, my love? What is it?”
“I read your mail.” Astarion responded, his eyes flooding full of guilt at the confession. He expelled a small sigh, flicking his gaze up at the ceiling and then back down to you. “Darling, I know we have been discussing this for months, but I really don’t think we should go to the Underdark. You’re getting so many outstanding offers that require you to remain in the city. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate, for god’s sakes. I know you want me to be safe from the sun… but I can’t, in good conscience, do that to you and rip you away from so many wonderful opportunities.”
“O-oh…” Your chest deflates and you catch yourself frowning for just a moment. Astarion’s brow furrows as he incorrectly interprets the cause of your sudden mood shift to be the current conversation and not the crushing disappointment you were trying to shove aside. You quickly try to move into a more neutral expression, but the rogue is already jumping into another worried explanation.
“Darling... Please hear me. I love you more than anything, and I know you better than anyone. You will not be truly happy there, of that much I am absolutely certain. These offers you’re receiving will give you multiple avenues to build the life you want…. the life we want. Imagine the good you could do with that level of influence, my love! Let me help you; I can review contracts, negotiate deals… whatever you need to ensure your success. Do not throw away so much potential on my account. I simply couldn’t live with myself if you did.”
He was right, of course. The only thing you wanted almost as much as you wanted Astarion was to continue the good work you two had been doing for Baldur’s Gate.
You sigh and nod your head, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re right, my love. I suppose it would be silly for both of us to throw away so much opportunity.”
Astarion beamed at your response before leaning over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. You smiled at the rogue when he pulled away to look at you with adoring crimson eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the conversation you were hoping for, but it had been a good and much needed one, nonetheless.
-----
Tonight, you and Astarion decided to take a stroll around the city. You were following the vampire’s lead, ambling around the streets as he pointed out more than a few of his old haunts. He revealed some of the difficult moments in his past as you two meandered about… more than one of the tales nearly made you cry with an overwhelm of sympathy for your lover. But you held back, knowing the elf hated eyes full of pity almost as much as he’d hated Cazador.
You noted that Astarion seemed to look back on his experience with more acceptance now. You knew, of course, that there were likely an infinite number of stories he had not yet revealed to you and perhaps never would. But you were still happy to see a bit of lightness in him as he spoke his truth. He hadn’t appeared to have one of his episodes on the entire walk, and as you pondered this, you also realized his night terrors had only occurred a handful of times this month. Such an improvement to what had been an almost daily incidence when you two originally moved in together.
Before long, you and your love arrived at the docks, where just over six months ago you’d felt as if you’d been stabbed in the gut as you watched the rays of sunlight scorch the vampire until he was forced to run for cover. But now, you two stood there hand in hand, resting in a pocket of comfortable silence. Both of you were admiring the twinkling starlight, full moon, and dark, mysterious expanse of the sea.
“The stars were so much more beautiful in the wilds… don’t you think, my sweet?” Astarion asks, his eyes filled with wistfulness as he ponders the sky.
You utter a little hum of agreement as your mind flashes to the first night in camp, when you caught Astarion reclined on his bedroll, stargazing. You turned your head to look at the rogue and remind him of the memory, but found he disappeared from your line of sight. Your vision wanders down and there he is, bent on one knee.
Oh this had to be the moment. Just when you were about to shout yes before the rogue even had a moment to say anything, Astarion looks up and smiles, a small pouch of gold coins in his hand. “Look! I suppose it’s our lucky day, darling. Their loss is our gain, would— are you alright, Tav? You’ve got this strange look on your face.”
Gods, not again. You feel your face flush with embarrassment. In your excitement and overwhelm, you’d almost ruined everything and let Astarion know that you knew his little secret. You made the decision then and there that this would be the last time you anticipated his proposal; let it happen when it’s meant to happen. You were done playing the guessing game. You couldn’t ruin everything with your big fat mouth.
You nod your head slightly before turning to look back at the stars once more, taking a deep breath and hoping to settle yourself.
“Yes, my love. I suppose I’m just thrilled by the beauty of the stars and the full moon, tonight. And by your beauty, of course.”
The rogue stands up, tucking the small sachet in his pocket. He smiles and places a soft, loving peck on the apple of your cheek before wrapping his arm around your waist. The two of you look up at the stars once more, and you spend a few moments pointing out some constellations in the sky. Stargazing had been one of the first things you two bonded over in camp.
Astarion is watching you with devoted interest as you ramble on about the planets and the mythological creatures represented by the patterns in the stars. Finally, there is a small lapse in conversation, and you want to take the opportunity to kiss him, but when you turn, the vampire is once again out of your sight line.
When you look down this time, Astarion is looking up at you, holding a velvet box in shaking hands.
“Tav—" He manages to choke out, but then his eyes fill with tears, and he stops to blink them away, chuckling softly at himself. You immediately come to kneel in front of your love, hands pressed to either side of his face, silently urging him to continue.
The vampire inhales shakily, suddenly quite overwhelmed by the extreme vulnerability he knows he’s about to lay before you. But the softness of your hands on his face grounds him in the moment and he smiles, admiring the look of utter adoration in your eyes.
A couple of tears fall over the edge of his lash line, and you immediately swipe them away with your shaking thumb. Another chuckle escapes the silver-haired elf, and he shakes his head in disbelief.
“My love… I’ve rehearsed this for weeks. I’ve said it all out loud more than a thousand times, I’m sure. I’ve spent almost every opportunity in your absence practicing this. One time I even had Shadowheart pretend to be you while I rehearsed my grand speech. But now that we are here… I’ve nearly forgotten everything I wanted to say.”
You move forward to press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, your hands still shaking as you run your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay, my Star. Please continue, when you’re ready… rehearsed or from the heart… I want to hear it all the same.”
Astarion nods just a fraction and inhales. The shaking hand that is not holding the ring box comes to lay atop your own hand resting on his face. Your love slowly, absently runs his thumb along the back of your palm as he gathers his thoughts. He stares into your eyes with so much love that you almost kiss him again but hold yourself back to allow him to continue.
Astarion exhales a shuddering breath and then continues in a reverent tone, as if he’s whispering a prayer, “My darling. I have lived long life. Much of it was a sad and hopeless one. When we were walking through the city, I pointed out several places where I’d encountered horrible things. Many of those things are still hard to talk about… some of it, I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”
You are crying now, from the overwhelming blend of sympathy for your little Star and palpable feeling of love in this beautiful moment. Tears begin coursing thin streams down your cheeks. Astarion wipes away the tears as they fall, though his lips start trembling from your display of emotion.
“B-but what I do know is that… in many of the places I pointed out, there are also memories of us. Of our friends. Of the time we spent together before saving the city and of the six months we’ve spent here after that. Little by little, we are taking places that only held horrible memories for me and turning them into places that hold feelings of hope and happiness.
I guess what I’m saying is that… these past six months have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery. And I do not think I deserve you, but I cannot imagine my life without you. You are everywhere I go, everywhere I look, and every happy memory I hold in my heart. If you’ll have me… I would like to spend the rest of our lives, however long they may be, turning this city into a place of hope for us and for the people we hold dear.”
Astarion opens the box, and you gasp in true awe as he reveals possibly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. At the center is a beautiful moonstone, emitting an ethereal glow that shines brilliantly in the darkness of the pier. The setting is gold, and an intricate sunburst pattern made in smaller gems surrounds the center stone.
“Standing on the dock that day, after that long battle… I had the thought that my life was ruined when I realized I could no longer stand in the sun. I thought I might never know true happiness again. But it turns out, that was the moment my new life with you began… and you’ve opened the door to more happiness than I could’ve ever imagined for myself.
Even if I never see the sun again, I have made my peace. I would make the choices I made to be here with you, on this dock, in this moment, again and again in every lifetime. You are my sun and my moon. And my darling, it would be my honor to be your Star for the rest of time. Tav… will you marry me?”
As soon as the question comes out of your lover’s lips, you instantly push forward to crash into Astarion, enveloping the elf in an emotional kiss. You both topple over from the sheer force of your ardor, and as you do, the vampire deftly snaps the ring box closed to protect it from spilling out onto the dock.
When you finally break away, panting heavily, both your faces are thoroughly flushed with excitement. The vampire looks up at you, scarlet eyes filled with absolute devotion. You giggle and press one more soft kiss to the rouge before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. “Yes, Astarion. Nothing in this life would make me happier than to share it with you.”
-----
Later that evening, the two of you are naked in bed after several rounds of vigorous celebration. You’re admiring your ring, which is still faintly glowing in the semi-darkness of your bedchambers. Astarion takes your hand and presses his lips to the ring with a small smile; his scarlet eyes closely examine the gem.
“I don’t know how it works… you would have to ask Gale. But the center stone glows when I think of you, you know.”
You blink, moving to touch the gemstone in the middle of the ring with curiosity. “But it hasn’t stopped glowing since we’ve been on the docks.”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we’ve been on the docks.” Astarion replies simply, moving his hand to stroke your cheek as a gentle, good-natured laugh escapes his mouth, “Perhaps now you’ll have some insight into how often my thoughts revolve around you, my sweet.”
You feel your eyes welling with tears again. Damn this man and his beautiful heart… he truly never misses a detail when it comes to you. You move forward to pull his lips into another loving kiss, and when you break away this time, a thought crosses your mind.
“Astarion… did you really find that bag of coins on the dock?”
Your lover grins mischievously, his crimson eyes crinkling at the corners as he grabs your ring-clad hand and kisses it once more.
“No, my sweet. But I had to throw you off. Shadowheart told me about my mishap. I wanted to surprise you… but you know me far too well and you’ve never been easily fooled… and the sleepy confession didn’t help things at all. I just figured that you would never anticipate that I’d drop down on one knee twice in a row.”
Astarion knew you just as well as you knew him… and he had been right. He’d fooled you. You roll your eyes and chuckle as the rogue moves closer to you, nuzzling into the side of your neck where fresh fang marks throbbed.
“Now what do you say, darling? One more round of celebration before we go to bed?”
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glitterquadricorn · 8 months
Text
Another Leclerc - social media
+ summary: When rumors go around about another Leclerc joining the f1 grid, people automatically assume its Arthur, completely forgetting about y/n leclerc. She'll do anything for a formula one seat. Even if it meant going behind a certain driver's back. +pairing: none. + warning(s): sexism, google translate (I don't speak Italian nor French but if I have something wrong, let me know), like one curse word.
face claim: Lindsay brewer
+ author's note: for a while now I've been wanting to get back into writing, but writing fics stress me out, so I figured making social media/instgram posts will be a lot easier to put together. I've also decided to change how I do social media posts and I'm trying to figure things out, so in the meantime, bear with me.
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itsy/nleclerc
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liked by charlesleclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 20,102 others
itsy/nleclerc: *insert Sebastian Vettel quote here*
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charles_leclerc: isn't that my jacket? ⤷itsynleclerc: If I said no would you believe me? ⤷charles_leclerc: give me back my jacket or I'll tell mom ⤷itsy/nleclerc: go ahead and tell mom, you snitch
user1: Charles and y/n is exactly how my sister, and I are whenever she burrows my clothes.
patriciooward: when are you going to let me drive your Ferrari?⤷itsy/nleclerc: never. ⤷josefnewgarden: she won't even let me drive it and I'm her teammate! ⤷12willpower: she's let me drive it ⤷patriciooward: Y/N! I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!! ⤷itsy/nleclerc: other than my beloved Ferrari, I only love my bed and my mom I'm sorry!
user2: this made me feel ✨poor✨
scuderiaferrari: you have great taste, miss leclerc ⤷itsy/nleclerc: thank you! :)
user3: you look real good in red liked by itsy/nleclerc
user4: I so badly want her to race for Ferrari with Charles! liked by itsy/nleclerc
arthur_leclerc: is there something you want to share with the class?⤷itsy/nleclerc: nope 🤐
user5: y/n clearly knows something we don't ⤷user6: you don't think she's the leclerc deuxmoi is talking about, right? ⤷user5: I hope not because Arthur honestly deserves that f1 seat more than her.
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ScuderiaFerrari:
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liked by itsy/nleclerc, charles_leclerc, f1 and 3,689,758 others.
scuderiaferrari: two-time indy 500 winner & one-time indycar champion and the first woman to be in formula one since Lella Lombardi, y/n leclerc joins Ferrari in 2026!
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itsy/nleclerc: this has always been a childhood dream of mine to race for Ferrari! grazie per questa sorprendente opportunità! (thank you for this amazing opportunity) liked by scuderiaferarri
carlossainz55: you can't be serious
charles_leclerc: papa and jules would be proud ⤷itsy/n_leclerc: I know 😭😭
pierregasly: Congrats little leclerc! ⤷itsy/nleclerc: thank you, mon frère (my brother)
josefnewgarden: I'll miss having you around ⤷itsy/nleclerc: you and misses are always welcome to come to Monaco ⤷josefnewgarden: we might just take you up on that offer
lewishamilton: hopefully this is a step in the right direction in making the paddock more inclusive and welcoming for everyone! liked by itsy/nleclerc
user1: y/n doesn't belong in formula one. ⤷user2: and the fact that she's replacing someone that didn't need to be replaced is astounding! ⤷user3: the pressure will be too much for her and she'll fail like past women who've tried to make it in f1 ⤷user4: I predict she won't make it to summer break before she quits ⤷user5: why is it so hard for you to comprehend a woman being in formula one? I mean, if you hate women, just say so.
user6: my daughter has expressed interest in karting because of y/n
12willpower: I wish you nothing but the best, kid. ⤷itsy/nleclerc: thanks, old man! 😘
user7: y/n signing to Ferrari is great and all, but I'm over here asking myself what tf is in the water in monaco because it should be illegal to be this good looking! ⤷user8: you're out here asking the real questions ⤷user9: all I'm saying is God bless mama Leclerc
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Chili man🌶️ How could do this to me? I thought we were friends.
Mini Leclerc What do you mean?
Chili man🌶️ Don't play dumb, y/n. You know exactly what you did.
Mini Leclerc Yes, I did sign with Ferrari. Yes, I did take your seat. You didn't sign an extension and they reached out to me. I saw an opportunity and I took it.
Chili man🌶️ I was getting ready to talk to Fred about an extension.
Mini Leclerc Early bird gets the worm?
Chili Man🌶️ You're a real bitch, you know that?
Mini Leclerc You think that's the first time a man, much less anyone has called me that? You know as much as I do that Formula one is a competitive sport and in order to get a seat, you may have to do some unspeakable things. Let me ask you a question, though. If the roles were reversed and you were me, would you have done the same thing?
*read*
Mini Leclerc you leaving me on read lets me know you would've. But I'll never apologize for my actions, Carlos. If you have any interest in IndyCar, I can give you some resources to help you out. Good luck in any of your future endeavors, Carlos.
---
thank you to @lorarri and @majaverse for helping me out. they didn't have to do that, but they did, so this is dedicated to them! :)
tagging list:
@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @yagirlmexic @tinycyberhacker @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry
if your name is crossed out, I couldn't tag you.
I'm going clean out my tagging list again, so if you want to stay on it, let me know.
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delaber · 1 year
Text
A Date (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
Summary: you have a date and Bucky’s not exactly happy about it.
Words: 3.8K
Trope: friends to lovers 💞 with a jealous Bucky trying his best to be brave, and failing horribly.
Notes: another fluff piece to mend Bucky’s heart ❤️ honestly, I have a problem with all these fluffy fics I’ve been writing recently. I just cannot stop myself lol.
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"You have a date?" he manages to splutter just before the panic takes over and makes his heart skip a few beats.
Fuck!
A fucking date?!
His fingers are slipping on the wet handle of the pan he's in the midst of cleaning, and in that moment, all he can think about is how happy he is that he's currently bent over the kitchen sink so you can't make out the shocked expression on his face.
You're nodding beside him, playing with the dishtowel you're holding but Bucky can hardly make out what you're saying when you return his question with a quiet "yeah".
His ears are ringing bells and he just wants to get the fuck out of there.
Silently, he's begging for you to stop talking. He doesn't want to know more. Doesn't want to hear what you've agreed to and who you're... - fuck, what if it's someone he knows?
What if it's Sam?!
Shit!
The panic in Bucky's chest runs amok! If he walks in on his two best friends fucking, he's gonna kill himself!
With dread, he realises that he has to know how careful he needs to be around the compound...
"With - uh - with whom?" he clears his throat and curls his toes in prepared mortification, his narrowed gaze firmly fixed on a wet piece of broccoli that's lying lonely and sad at the bottom of the sink.
Please don't say Sam, please don't say Sam...
"You know the cute guy from the coffee shop?" you answer proudly, and it makes Bucky's heart spring violently back to life. That guy??? "- he finally asked me."
Well, it's not Sam - yet somehow, it's worse.
Deep breath, he tells himself and plasters on a neutral expression as he looks up from the pan and directly into your eyes.
At least you look excited, he concludes as he takes in your dreamy little smile that's usually reserved for when vibranium fingers briefly brush over your warm skin but that he now has to share with... him. The moron in the green apron. Mr I'm-too-busy-flirting-with-your-girl-to-get-your-order-right.
Fuck, he's burning up!
"That's great, sweetheart," he hears himself croak from far away, trying his best to sound like he's happy for you and not as if his heart is in the process of being ripped out of his chest. "I'm real happy for you."
"Thanks, Buck," you playfully bump your hip against his while looking down at your hands as you once again twist the towel between your fingers.
You seem almost... nervous. This date must really be a big deal to you.
He gulps and pushes away another incoming wave of nausea. It's not as if he hasn't long ago accepted that nothing will ever happen between the two of you. You're friends. That's it.
"Are you excited?" He asks without really knowing why. He doesn't want to hear your answer. To hear you verbally confirm the look you already have on your face.
Slowly you look up at him and he has to chomp down on his inner cheek to keep himself from doing something stupid.
"You know what?" you ask quietly with a tilt of your head and Bucky's heart starts racing even harder. "- I actually am."
Even you sound surprised - not that Bucky can really blame you.
"Mmh," he merely hums and pretends there's a particularly stubborn area on the dirty pan that needs his attention.
"Is that weird?" You ask.
He can feel how the sincere question in your voice laces itself around his abdomen, squeezing him tight.
Is it wrong of him to want to snap the stupid piece of teflon-coated metal in his hand in half? You're his best friend and he should just be happy you're happy.
Fuck it, he is happy! He loves you more than anything and you deserve to feel this way - he just wishes it was because of him and not someone else.
"No, sweetheart," he mumbles, trying to untie the invisible knot behind his navel as he starts scrubbing again. "Why would it be weird?"
Thankfully, you don't answer.
...
Cold droplets of water are running over your forehead and down the length of your nose, desperately trying to reduce the tension that's been resting right between your eyebrows since your conversation with Bucky last night.
Splashing your face with water is a stupid attempt to make yourself feel better - you know that - it hasn't worked the other times you've tried it and this must be the tenth attempt since you woke up this morning. The only thing that'll truly help is if Bucky would tell you what's going on.
He's been acting weird since last night, and even though you aren't sure what reaction you'd been hoping for, this definitely isn't it. You know he isn't exactly the biggest fan of the man who's taking you out for dinner later, but getting so annoyed he can barely uphold a conversation? Well, that wasn't really a scenario you'd even considered at all...
You suppose you could just tell him the truth - maybe that would make him more accepting of your choice of date - but it's not as if you can really tell him that the only reason you're going on that date to begin with is to force yourself to get over, well, him.
You've known Bucky two years now and apart from small moments here and there, nothing's happened. It's been two excruciating years full of pining and painful almosts and ifs but he clearly doesn't look at you that way and you don't want to keep putting yourself through the heartbreak. You deserve to spend your friday nights with someone who actually sees you for what you are: beautiful, smart, desirable, a woman.
And as you stand looking at yourself in the mirror, you realise that you need this date to get Bucky out of your head. Fuck if he doesn't approve of the cute guy from the coffee shop. It's none of his business who you're going out with and if he wants to be annoyed about it, then so be it.
Yet you still cannot stand the thought of him sitting by himself all night. He hasn't seemed like himself all day and you know how he can spiral over the smallest of things.
Thus, you check for Sam in the kitchen, the gym, and in the spa area in the basement of the compound, but eventually find him in the common room on the third floor, completely hypnotised as he stares at the television screen in front of him, the playstation controller grabbed tightly in his hands.
You do a quick scan around the room to confirm that it's just the two of you before you approach him. "Wilson, have you seen Bucky today?"
"Bucky? Uh - no," Sam mumbles without moving his gaze away from the animated character who's running through an abandoned city. "I assume you've already tried the dark cave he calls his room?"
"I know where he is," you sigh and flop down on the sofa next to him, stretching your legs and putting your feet in his lap. "I was just hoping that maybe you'd talked to him."
He doesn't answer apart from a few incoherent noises you're sure are for the game and not for you, so you poke at the controller with your toes to get his attention. "Sam..."
"Hey! I'm trying to save humanity from a zombie apocalypse here. Keep your stinking feet away from me," he playfully flicks the underside of your foot without sparing you a glance. "I already told you I haven't seen your siamese twin all day."
"Yeah, but do you think you could... go check on him maybe?"
"I'm busy. You go check on him."
"Sam..."
At the sound of your soft-spoken words, Sam sends you a brief side-eye before he finally tosses the controller down on the sofa table with a loud sigh. "What'd you do?"
"I didn't do anything," you shake your head innocently. Is it really your fault that Bucky is too childish to accept the man you're going out with? No.
Sam runs his eyes over you and squints hard. "You guys are usually so dependent, you're practically joined at the hip. And now you want me to go talk to him even though you didn't do anything?"
"Look, he's being weird," you sigh, "- can you just check on him? Please? Maybe have a guy's night in with beer and that stupid zombie-game you're always playing or whatever?" you gesture to the television screen where the character from before stands panting, saying random stuff every few seconds. "I don't want him to be alone."
"First of all, The Last of Us is not stupid!" Sam raises his index finger at you, feigning an insulted huff. "Secondly; a guy's night in..? While you're doing exactly what if I may ask?" he arches an eyebrow, urging you to keep talking.
"I - uh - I have plans," you say quickly and try and look determined although you can feel your entire face heating up. "...a date of sorts."
The dead-panned look on Sam's face is quickly wiped off, instead replaced with an annoyingly broad smirk. "You have a what now?" he chuckles teasingly.
"You heard me," you roll your eyes.
"Oh I heard you loud and clear," he hoots, "you are going on a date!" he says, emphasising the last word with a wriggle of his eyebrows.
"Don't be a dick about it."
"My, oh my. We're finally gonna see what kind of man that can sweep the rug from underneath you."
"Okay, I'm leaving," you make a move to stand up, but Sam interrupts you by putting his palm to your shin.
"Come on, I'm just teasing," he laughs, "tell me about your date. Who's it with? - Not Bucky, I assume."
"Why would I go on a date with Buck?" you shrug nonchalantly although you can once again feel the heat radiating through your every feature. "It's the cute blonde from the coffee house down the street."
"Oooh, the guy who looks like a young Brad Pitt but with humour?"
"That's the one," you press down on your lips and avoid looking directly at Sam. God, this is embarrassing.
"He's a cutie!" Sam teases with a chuckle.
"I know," you play with a loose thread on your shirt, avoiding his eye.
"Then why aren't you more excited about it?" He asks but immediately emits a groan, "Jesus... do not tell me it's because of Bucky?!"
"I'm worried about him," you whine and bury your face in the sofa cushions.
Sam rolls his eyes. "You're going on your first date in forever and you're worried about that sourpuss?"
"Sam, you didn't see the look on his face when I told him about it! He hates the guy - I think it really upset him."
"Of course it upset him," Sam scoffs, "It's like taking candy away from someone who really wants to fuck said candy!"
Your eyes snap over to Sam in an instance. Completely taken off guard, your voice dies in your throat. Did he just...? No, surely, you must've misheard.
"Come on, don't pretend you haven't noticed," Sam groans, "I swear to god, he's two days away from crawling behind you just so he can lick the ground you're walking on!"
The earth has stopped spinning. "W-what?"
"The puppy eyes? The 'pick me' behaviour?" he rolls his eyes at your shocked face.
Your heart starts pounding so fast you can barely keep up. "Are we talking about... Bucky? As in our Bucky?"
"Uh, huh," Sam nods as if it's the most obvious thing on the planet. "That guy's practically begging you to take him by the hand and lead him to your bed. He's so in love with you, it's disgusting to look at."
"He's what?!" You exclaim loudly, completely out of breath. This is definitely news to you! "No, no, no! Bucky's not in love with me, we're friends," you pant with the blood rushing past your ears.
Sam shoots you an unimpressed side-eye, "yeah keep telling yourself that"
"What do you mean?" you pant, trying to puzzle together Sam's suspicion with your disbelief.
"I swear to god, the two of you don't even have a single brain cell put together..." he rolls his eyes, "I've seen that boy almost snap his neck because you were laughing and he wanted to know what you were laughing at. Trust me when I say that he's not annoyed that you're going on that date - he's jealous."
Well... fuck!
...
You don't think you've ever been this nervous as you pace the hallway outside Bucky's bedroom. You've been here ten minutes now, desperately trying to force yourself to actually make contact with him, but you're holding yourself back. There's so much on the line and what if Sam's incorrect? Then, you will truly have mucked up and everything between you and Bucky will be ruined.
Shit!
You stop pacing. You can hear his favourite album from the forties playing on the other side of the wall but apart from that, there hasn't been a single sound from in there.
You pray he's in a better mood than when you walked in on him angrily hunched over his bowl of cereal this morning, but the fact that he put on the only type of music that can calm him down, doesn't really scream 'put-together'.
It makes you even more nervous though you know you have to talk to him at some point. It's not as if you can avoid him forever - so before you can truly think about the upside of postponing the inevitable conversation, you raise your knuckles and carefully knock on his door.
Everything inside you tenses up. You vision becomes blurry, and you seem to automatically focus all your attention on the sounds coming from inside his room. There's a short shuffle, a sigh and then an irritated "what?!" muttered from somewhere behind the walls.
This is bound to go wrong.
You consider running away and pretend you've never even been near his room, but it's too late to back out now. You have to talk to him at some point, you remind yourself.
With your nerves running wild and the blood pumping through your every vein, artery, and fibre, you open the door a little and poke your head inside his room with a small "hi," your throat so dry it comes out as a hoarse whisper.
He's sitting on the bed with his long legs crossed at the ankles, his hand buried inside a book that's lying closed in his lap. He looks angry at everything and everyone - as if he's minutes away from strangling someone - but when he finds your eyes from across the room, the tense muscles in his cheeks seem to unclench a little.
"Oh, hey," he breathes and runs a hand through his hair in embarrassment, licking his lips. "I thought you were Sam..."
You smile, so relieved to see him softening that you automatically step inside his room without waiting for him to ask you to. "Sorry to disappoint."
"You're not," he shakes his head with a small gulp, "I thought you'd left already. Don't you have that big date?" he asks in a weird voice and sends you a stiff smile.
"Not until seven," you shrug and sit down next to him on his bed, immediately noticing how he's started avoiding your gaze.
"Right," he nods and occupies himself by putting his book on his bedside table. "So - uh - still looking forward to it?"
How do you tell your best friend that no, you're not looking forward to it because he's the one you really want to go out with?
"I don't know," you shrug, suddenly so anxious your temples have started pounding, "not really."
He finally looks up at you again, his slate blue eyes jittery as they meticulously search your face. "What happened?" He asks with tightly knitted eyebrows, "you were so excited for it yesterday."
You hesitate. "...Honestly?"
"Yeah, honestly," he sits up a little straighter, a serious look on his face, "- he didn't upset you, did he?" He says on impulse, his voice suddenly dark and dripping with venom at the mere thought as he reaches out for you and puts his fingers on your arm.
"No Buck," you shake your head and take a deep breath to get your pulse under control. "He didn't upset me."
"Then what?" He squeezes your arm softly, his eyes concerned as he tries to read you, "you can tell me anything."
"I know... It's just that..." you hesitate and consider ending your sentence with I'm in love with you, but the words die in your throat.
"What sweetheart?" he shuffles a little closer to you.
"Bucky," you heave a big breath of air to prepare your bold question that can potentially change everything between you dependant on his answer. "Do you not want me to go on that date?"
"What?" his eyes immediate travel over your face and you can almost hear his pulse running haywire as his fingers let go of your arm. "What makes you think that?"
"It's just..." your breathing picks up as you scan his every anxious feature. It makes you anxious too. "- you started acting weird the minute I told you about it. You've been avoiding me all day."
His fingers find your arm again, his grip a little tighter than before as he desperately looks at you. "No, no, no, sweetheart! That's not what happened," he licks his lips and plasters on the fake smile he's been practising in the mirror all day. "- I mean... I'm not the biggest fan of the guy but who you're dating is really none of my concern. I'm sure he's great, and as long as he treats you well, I'll make sure he stays on my good side," he says softy and sends you a smile that seems a little too genuine for your liking.
You hesitate again as you check his face for cracks, but his smile stays intact and happy. "...So you're really okay with it?" you ask in a small voice, mortified.
"Are you kidding me? Sweetheart, of course I'm okay with it!" he slides his fingers down your arm, capturing your hand inside his fist. "I really just want you to be happy. That's what's important. And you deserve to be taken care of for once instead of being stuck here with me and Sam." He reassuringly squeezes your fingers tight, but it just feels as if he's in the process of letting you go.
Slowly, you can feel your heart breaking.
You knew it... You knew Sam was wrong. Bucky isn't in love with you. Never has been. Never will be. Things are exactly the way they've always been and you're left pining after a man who doesn't want you back.
God, you feel like a idiot for getting your hopes up like that.
"Good," you nod resolutely, fighting hard to not let the heartbreak slip through your well-feigned mask. "I'm happy to hear you feel that way."
"Of course I do," he smiles solemnly.
"I should probably go get ready then..."
"Yeah," Bucky nods and lets go of you. "It's almost six."
With a sigh you hope he doesn't hear, you stand up from his bed and brush down the front of your jeans, not really sure you even want to leave his room.
He's looking up at you like a deer caught in headlights. "Have fun," he says while his hands grab the sheets underneath him, fisting the fabric. "- can't wait to hear all about it."
"Thanks, Buck," you feign a smile to match his, "I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you, sweetheart..."
You turn around with a wave of your hand, but the smile on your face falters the minute you've turned on your heel.
You can hear his heavy breathing over the music playing in the corner, and when you reach out for the door handle, a delicate sound finally breaks the reticence between you.
"Don't go..."
At first, you're not sure if you're imagining it, but then you hear him shuffling behind you, and when you turn around and face him, he's on his feet. "Don't go on that date," he whimpers in defeat, "I'm begging you. Please... don't go."
"Bucky..."
"I'm in love with you," he says guiltily with a gulp.
Your heart stops.
"- and I can't pretend I'm okay with you going on dates when I'm not."
You're completely speechless. You want to comment on everything. Run to him and proclaim that you're his. That you've always been his. But you're nailed to the spot and all that manages to escape your lips is a tight whimper.
"- I know it's probably not what you want to hear right now..." he closes his eyes and looks as if he's in pain. "And I know I'm risking everything by telling you this," he gulps, "but I've been keeping it in for so fucking long, trying to protect our friendship. I just can't keep pretending I don't want... more. It's stupid, I know."
"Bucky, it's not stupid," you finally manage to croak and it's as if the force that've been gluing you to the spot finally lets go. "It's not," you whisper as you take a few long strides over to him, stopping right before your chests touch. "It's not stupid," you repeat and reach a hand upwards, caressing his bearded chin.
His eyes are glistening, and his breathing is coming in ragged as he searches your face. "Sweetheart," he gulps in confusion, "I don't... - what does this mean?"
"It means -" your hand reaches up so it can rake through his hair, coming to a halt on the back of his neck where you can feel the goosebumps travel through his entire body. "- that I'm in love with you too. Have been for quite some time. Since I met you, actually."
Now it's his turn to be glued to the spot.
His mouth falls a little open and you can tell by the look on his face that he's in the process of questioning everything, so you underline your confession by putting your forehead to his. "I want to be yours," you whisper and observe him closely.
At first, he tenses even harder, but then a small smile starts tugging on his lips as he finally relaxes in your arms and pulls you closer. "I want you to be mine, too," he declares sweetly as his heart blossoms in his chest. He reaches down and kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead.
"It's you," he whispers against your skin, "- It's always been you."
"Kiss me," you beam and almost cannot stop smiling silly when you reach up for his mouth, finally claiming the softest, most pillowy lips you've ever had the pleasure of kissing.
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obbystars · 1 month
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It hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you.
NOTES: dividers by @cafekitsune !!
( Written before 2.2 / Kinda short tbh / Boothill may be OOC / not really angst as it turns into fluff tbh / I blame this / title was chosen because I was listening to the song at the time / GN!Reader )
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It took a while for Boothill to even get used to this new life, or new body. Every time he looked at himself, he’s reminded of what was stolen from him. For a time, he hated his body. He sometimes wished he stayed dead. He feels so cold. He didn’t… He never wanted this, though as time passed, he grew accustomed to it. He eventually accepted it, but it never stopped those thoughts from worming their way back into his head.
He doesn’t quite feel… human. Nothing about him truly felt human.
“Boothill? You still there?” The voice was barely above a whisper.
“Hm?”
The gentle beating of a heart entered his ears. He felt warm. He felt a warm hand gently rubbing his face. Another hand was playing with a few strands of his hair before it was now gently brushing it. He opened his eyes, finding himself in an all too familiar room. One he had always looked forward to going back to once he finally had time to spare.
And underneath him? His favorite person, of course. Someone he always looked forward to seeing again, to spending more time with. He looks up at you, and you took note of his expression.
“Oh, sorry. Did I wake you up?”
He shook his head, burying his face into your chest and closing his eyes again, “No, no ya didn’t... Don’t worry ‘bout it,”
His arms were wrapped securely around your waist, trapping you in bed with him. You wiggled around in his grip for a bit to get a bit comfortable, resulting in you having to move him further up. His face was now in the crook of your neck.
Was he crushing you? Surely if he was, you would’ve said something or even tried to nudge him away. Were you cold? He hoped not… You did sometimes push him off of you because he was too cold. Sometimes he wishes he could provide you the warmth you always give him, but it’s not like he can feel it anywhere else other than his face. He hated that.
“You okay?” You questioned, your voice snapping him back to reality.
His answer was only a faint hum this time. He feels your hand brush his hair again, and you swear you can just feel him melt under your touch. It surprised you sometimes. A brash, flamboyant Galaxy Ranger, always full of energy and ready for the next journey across the stars almost turning into mush once your hands meet him. It was something you picked up on very quickly, and it didn’t take as long for you to realize why he reacts this way.
“Does it bother you?”
Your hands stop moving through the white strands, “Does what bother me?”
“This… My body. Does it-”
“No. Not at all,” you suddenly cut in, “You get cold sometimes, but that doesn’t bother me. Why do you ask?”
“…it’s nothin’,”
You turn your head to face him, nuzzling him knowing he can feel you there, “Well… It definitely is something, but… Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears,”
He can feel you gently press a kiss on his head, and another, and another, and another. The only place where he can feel you, and you were practically showering him with small kisses.
He feels warm, especially when he’s with you. Maybe that’s why he always looks forward to moments like this with you because for once, even if it’s just for a moment, he feels human.
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ehhh, this felt better in my head but oh well, I just really wanted to write Boothill
I don’t regularly post fics or hcs like this but maybe I’ll make a silly side blog for it if I do find myself wanting to write so much more for Boothill ( I literally love him so much )
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gavisimmaculaterizz · 2 months
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bb can u write something like jude coming home from practice and being angry, mad or something, and just storming off in his room, and later on (female) reader falls asleep on the couch teary eyed bcz she doesn't know what she did wrong
— bother / jude bellingham.
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summary: jude cant hold in his anger from losing his match, resulting in a distant jude.
warnings: a bit of angst ??
masterlist
as the final whistle blew, distant whistles and boos came from the santiago bernabéu. the night in madrid was cold, the huge loss of the white giants filled the madrid air with coldness. as fans exited the stadium, jude proceeded to go to the locker room furious. he couldn’t help but feel anger, not being able to help his team out with at least scoring a goal. he disappointed the fans, maybe even his girlfriend. he mentally cursed himself out for not showing his potential, preparing for the hate he’d get on twitter by fellow madridistas.
meanwhile at the comfort of your shared apartment, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of sadness watching your boyfriends team lose heavily. you turned off the television, feeling sadness wash over you, over the terrible result in the bernabéu that just happened moments ago. you hated seeing your boyfriend sad, knowing these type of losses affected him heavily.
a couple hours later, the noise of bags falling echoed around the silent home. you ran to jude, excited to hug him and welcome him in. when reaching the tall british, you were welcomed with a cold and distant jude. “hey babe how was your game?”, you asked your boyfriend. upon your question, jude’s facial expression changed heavily. “what do you mean how was my game? did you even pay attention to what just happened?”,he asked furiously. his words hit you like a cold dagger that was plummeted into your heart, dry and distant, with a hint of anger still lingering in his voice. “do you want to talk about it?”, you asked trying to console your boyfriend. his words broke you, all you tried to do was ask if his game went okay, even though you’d know what his response would be. “no, god just leave me alone— you’re such a bother y/n.”, jude stated furiously. he quickly stormed off to your shared room, shutting the door loudly, letting you know to not even step foot into the room. your heart broke, you couldn’t contain your tears anymore.
you ran to your living room in tears, only seeing blurriness, and tasting the saltiness water streaming down your face. you mentally cursed yourself out feeling guilty for making him angry, even though it was not your fault at all. you knew he was a bit pissed off from his game still , but you never meant to provoke him even more than he was. you laid down on your sofa, grabbing a blanket and covering yourself completely. you wanted to give him space, let him cool down a bit.
meanwhile in your little bubble, your thoughts raced, ‘was it my fault for making him angry?’ you kept sobbing, overloading yourself with these negative thoughts. you let yourself cry until you couldn’t anymore. all you let out were heavy breaths which occupied the quiet home. with all the crying, it made you sleepy, and you couldn’t help but doze off into the night sky. you would soon be awaiting your boyfriends apology in the morning.
but was he right about you being a bother..?
a/n: i kind of tweaked it a bit anon!! also this is my first fic so im mentally cringing at myself bc im not used to this 🙁, so i hope yall like it
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princessslutt · 3 months
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oo how bout reader is all overstimulated and tries to like crawl away and rafe holds her down and is like sort of mocking her like “awh poor baby” yk😭😭
ugh you’re so real for this! i need this so bad omg 😭😭
this is a shorter fic, I honestly wanted to write more, but I deleted half of it because is started to repeat myself a lot, hope you understand dove! I’m thinking about doing an part 2 with aftercare, if that’s something you guys want just let me know!<3
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Rafe had already made you cum several times, you have begged and begged him to stop but all you get is a rough slap on the cheek. “take it, be a good girl” was the hard words falling from his lips.
“r-rafe s’to much, to much” you cry out, legs shaking, as you dig your nails in his back. he grins at you, and laughs.
he laughs in your face, your fucked out expression, tears falling on the apples of your cherry red cheeks, lips swollen and pouty, eyes glazing with fat tear drops, but he finds that adorable.
he’s thrusting in and out of you, you feel that familiar knot forming inside of your stomach, and again you hit the pillow, exhausted.
“You have one more in you, eh?” your eyes widen, fresh tears threatening to pour from your waterline.
“rafey, it h-hurts” you announced, but he just smiles, thrusting inside of you harder, and slower. “you poor baby, you just never learn do you? we both know that you can take it, and you will.” you start to squirm, trying to relive the ache, and the pain in your legs. but he just puts his hand on your neck, squeezing softly, but hard.
“you dumb girl, you’re just digging yourself deeper, don’t play dumb. You wanted this cock and you’re gonna take it.” you nod quickly, putting your hand on his, he finally lets go of your neck. You’re panting, trying to be the good girl you know you can be.
“that’s a good girl.”
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˚˖𓍢ִ🩰✧˚.🐰୨୧ ⋅˚₊
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kithtaehyung · 10 months
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seven days (m) (teaser) | jjk
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POSTED HERE JULY 22ND, 2023!!  upcoming series: seven days (m)  pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader(f) genre/rating: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; roommates to lovers au  summary: you dump yet another guy that wasn’t up to your “ten day standards,” which leaves your cocky ass, very off-limits roommate to tease your single status yet again. but the teasing is always expected. what’s not expected, is the bet that you make without thinking. the bet that even though you give ten days, he wouldn’t even last seven. warnings: cursing, alcohol/vape mentions, parties, he wears glasses sometimes😔👍, chains bc it’s tradition atp lmaooo, cocky!jk, feelings🤕, big big big jk, flirty!jk, baddie!reader😌, multiple explicit scenes🫠, jk constantly in grey sweatpants and nothing else :))), full lists to be revealed each chapter! notes: …so this song called seven dropped and— notes 2: but really there was a fic that had been in the wips for a minute, and i just so happened to have a burst of energy to expand on it so here we are! making it a series to allow myself time to dedicate meaningful energy to each scene and not rush them💕 est. chapters: prologue | mon | tue | wed | thurs | fri | sat | sun | seven days est. running dates: july-september 2023 taglist: sign up here (i check every entry so read the rules!) teaser: below the cut if you want a taste 🩵
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“Sure did,” Jungkook puffs before stepping away, taking all the tight space with him and letting you breathe again. “But all I’m saying is, you gotta lower your standards or—” 
“No.”
“Or,” he continues, giving you a look, “Not complain if they’re too high.” 
“Well, thank you.” With your nose grazing the sky, you point out, “I’d like to think they’re just right.” 
“What even are they anyway? All you’ve said is something about ten days.”
“That’s basically it,” you murmur, resting your arms on the island as to not have your chest in full view. “If I still like someone after ten days, I know I’d be fine dating them for real.” 
There’s silence when you finish. When you finally look, the gawk you’re getting in return almost makes you laugh. “What?”
“You mean those days are only a trial run?” 
You do break into laughter this time, burying your face in slight shyness. “And what about it!” 
“Are you serious—?” Jungkook rounds the island so that he can speak directly at your hidden features. “Has anyone even gotten past all ten with you?”
You pause, breath fanning the granite top beneath you and wisping around your face. When you lift your gaze above your arms, you keep it trained on the countertop instead of his curiosity, 
“No.” 
He doesn’t say a word. 
“Not since my standards changed.” 
And you think that’s the end of this conversation. Because what else is there to say? You know your expectations are impossible but you think this is a hell of a lot better than—
“I could do it.” 
“What.” A glare is shot. “Absolutely not.” 
“Why not?”
“You? No.” You shake your head. “You wouldn’t even last seven.” 
“Try me,” he challenges, and you still can’t take him seriously despite the fire in his eyes. “I’ve lasted a lot more than that as your roommate, right?” 
“But that’s—this is—this is different! Be for real, Kook.” You vacate the island and head to your room, having enough of his teasing for one morning. 
But you get stopped at the doorway, a bare chest and chains blocking your vision and sending your mind into a frenzy. When you flick your gaze to his face, he simply says, with the straightest expression,
“I am.”
--
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tbc. :))
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🦋 soooo how do we feel !! | wanna be tagged? 🩵
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a/n: yeah idk what happened to me. one moment i was saying i wasn't gonna get bitten by the seven bug, and the next.. well. this happened lol. anyway! taglist is on a form so that i can easily keep track of who to tag. pls make sure to either tell me ur age in the survey or to have it on your blog bc i check all entries when tagging. prologue is already written and will be up soon! ++ ⇥ masterlist
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