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lovebugism · 8 months

Note

AH HI!! so... i love the way you write ditzy!reader, and especially with steve idk it just warms my heart yk? The way they interact 😭 it's so lovely

Since I'm an angsty girly at heart, I thought about a situation where steve gets a teeny tiny bit frustrated with ditzy!reader, but it's just seconds, even less than that but it's enough to make her upset for making him upset but also a super fluffy moment between both of them and steve being mesmerized by her and just so much in love

ahh thank u lovie! pls enjoy!! — steve gets frustrated with his sensitive gf and makes up with her accordingly (hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

You keep Steve company during the last half of his shift like you always do.

He’s grumpier than usual, though — all pouty and visibly brooding.

You plop yourself on the front counter of Family Video and ask him what’s wrong, and he tells you that the day’s been hell and he’s just tired. There is no “but I feel better now” like there usually is when he’s upset but doesn’t want you to think it’s your fault.

The “because you’re here” is typically implied.

Not so much now.

You’re having the complete opposite day of your sulking boyfriend. Yours had been dreadfully boring, or at least you say it had been, but you find a million different things to tell him. You’re too excited after having spent so many hours without him, like a dog with a wagging tail. You’ve got the zoomies of the mouth, if you could even call it that.

“—And then I saw the cutest dog on the way over here. His name was Cappy, and he was huge, and the owner was so nice. He even let me pet him, and he literally felt like a cloud— the dog, not the owner.”

Steve is used to this. The whole rambling about nothing thing. He loves it about you, actually. It took him ages to coax you out of that shell after your asshole ex told you that you talked too much, convinced you that no one cared about what you had to say.

You’re more comfortable now, and Steve loves that you are, but right now he just can’t concentrate.

Keith’s been on his ass about inventory all day, and he just learned how to do it on the old, bulky computer this morning — but only after Robin made him an hour late to his shift. Everything’s just too much now. He’s overwhelmed to the point of spontaneous combustion.

For the first time ever, you’re not helping.

“—And, like, I know when we move into our apartment, we’re technically not allowed to have pets, but like… What about a fish? Or a turtle?” you wonder aloud but don’t stop to let him answer. Sitting on the edge of the counter, you kick your feet and flit your eyes to the spotted ceiling. “What if I start feeding the deer in the woods, and they just start showing up at our backdoor? ‘Cause technically—”

“Babe, please,” Steve snaps suddenly when your sneaker knocks his chair. He’s buzzing with anger, and even though it’s not because of you, he doesn’t know where else to put it.

Your eyes go wide at the newfound bite in his tone. He’s not shouting at you, but it makes your heart stop like he is. You feel like a kid again, getting scolded for being “too much.”

“…What?” you squeak.

Steve sighs. A deep, heavy sigh. It doesn’t remove the leaden weight from his chest, though.

“I’m… I’m really trying to concentrate here, and you’re just— you’re making it really hard,” he tells you through gritted teeth, trying hard to keep his composure.

You deflate like a popped balloon. “Oh…”

He can hear the waver in your tone, the way your voice sounds wet with unshed tears. But he’s too overwhelmed — internally raging and selfish with it. His sweltering temper makes his woe feel more important than yours.

“Yeah, so… Can you just— go bother someone else for, like, five minutes?” he asks, fists clenched on either side of the clunky keyboard, his gaze concentrated on the pixelated screen. “Robin’s probably sulking in a corner somewhere. Go find her.”

Your face crumbles like a balled-up piece of paper. Your chest gets all tight, and your eyes start to burn when tears gather behind them.

You’d always been a flower of melodrama — blooming eternally and constantly sensitive. So when Steve cut you off as you fantasized about a family of deer living in the backyard of an apartment you were supposed to share together, it felt like a knife in your chest.

The irrational thought that he no longer wanted any of that with you was fleeting and vivid and burning. Irrational, still.

But now you’re annoying him. He’s told you as much, with an unusual harshness he’s never spat at you before. And now your fears feel much more real.

“I’m bothering you?” you ask him, barely intelligible through the whimper in your throat.

Steve huffs again. His elbows thunk against the desk when he puts his head in his palms, swiping his fingers through his hair like he always does when he’s antsy.

“I just really need to get this done,” he tells you, softer now. He makes himself mad all over again, though, and gets sharper once more. “I need to finish this before I get fired, and then we have no apartment to move into because we have no money, alright?”

There it is. The root of all his anger. A lingering feeling of inadequacy.

He wants a life with you, but all he’s got is a measly Family Video salary — which he’s lucky to have apparently, because he can’t seem to do anything right. It stirs like a fire in the pit of his stomach.

After another deep breath, he finally turns to look up at you. His honey eyes are wet and stern. The chiseled edges of his features are sharp. Gently, he pleads. “I really need to work here, babe.”

You nod, understanding and internally weeping. “Okay. I’m— I’m sorry, I was just— I’ve been missing you all day, and I got too excited, I think,” you confess, wringing your clammy hands in your lap like a scolded child.

“Don’t apologize,” Steve says with a huff, leaning back against the squeaking swivel chair. It’s old and has lost all its cushion. His stiff back aches all the more. There’s no relief, to any of it.

He sits back up again and puts his unsure hands back on the keyboard. “Just— Just go, okay? Let me finish this.”

He leaves little room for argument.

You wouldn’t, though, even if you wanted to. Which you do. You’re just not strong enough.

—————

Steve tells you to go, but you end up in the kiddie corner across the store.

Mr. Rogers puts on a bright red cardigan and sings a tune that makes you feel like crying. You sit on the color-blocked carpet, surrounded by block toys, and clutch a stuffed bunny to your chest. You can’t tell if the vintage VHS is making the screen blurry or if it’s the tears gathering heavy at your waterline.

Robin walks by you, does a double-take, and immediately reports to Steve.

“What did you do?” she interrogates with narrowed eyes, strolling up to the counter with a cart full of tapes to put away.

The hearty tap, tap, taping of the keyboard fills the silence.

Steve doesn’t look at her until he’s finished up the last of his work. Only when it’s fully and finally complete does his hardened gaze dart to her. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. She’s upset.”

“What do you mean she’s upset?”

Robin rolls her eyes at his obliviousness. “I don’t know. She’s singing the Mister Roger’s theme song and, like, crying. It’s weird.”

Steve’s brows pinch. His heart does, too. “Crying?”

“Well— not crying, exactly. It’s this really weird blubbering thing.” She fails to explain it so she tries to imitate it. A sobbing, sniffling sort of noise. She fails at that, too. Her scrunched face goes back to normal. “Like that.”

Deadpanned, Steve nods. “Wow, Robin. That was really helpful. Thank you.”

“Just go comfort your girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve still thinks she’s joking. Robin doesn’t lie, but she does have a tendency to overemphasize the mundane.

He goes to see you anyway, though, and doesn’t think twice about any of it — about what Robin said or what he had said to you before that.

He finds you in the kid’s section, in front of the tiny television, surrounded by brightly colored toys. He smiles at the sight of you, exhaling a sharp laugh through his nose.

“What are you doing all the way over here, huh?” he questions to announce his arrival, which you seemingly hadn’t noticed. “This area is usually for kids, ya know? Well, kids and Dustin Henderson.”

He doesn’t sound as annoyed with you anymore. You’re grateful for that much, but you still feel a bit sick about the whole thing.

Your nervous hands pick the cotton of the fuzzy bunny in your arms. You keep your gaze on the television in front of you, but you aren’t really watching it anymore. “I used to watch this stuff a lot growing up. The nostalgia sorta makes me wanna puke. But, like, in a good way.”

Steve scoffs. “Well, maybe we should turn it off then, ‘cause if I have to clean up vomit after the day I’ve had, I might actually go insane.”

He’s kidding. Mostly. The universe tends to be cruel like that, but he’d clean up all your messes a thousand times over if he had to.

He laughs at his own joke as he crouches to sit down next to you. He bends his knees, props his arms on top of them, and looks over at you. You don’t crack a smile for him, which is weird because you always laugh at his jokes. Even the ones that aren’t funny. Especially the ones that aren’t funny.

His smile ebbs to a wavering half-smirk as he knocks his shoulder with yours. “You okay?”

You think for a moment, jutting your lips out, unblinking at the television screen. “No,” you answer after a few seconds of silence. “But I’ll get over it. I think.”

Your honesty makes his heart wrench — like you’ve wrapped both your tiny hands around the beating organ and squeezed. It knocks the breath out of his lungs, a fish so ruthlessly pulled from the water. He tries to speak through the sudden lack of air. “Wh—What happened? Was it… Did I do something? Did you—”

“No,” you cut off his stammering with a firm shake of your head. “I did something.”

“Oh,” is all he says, pink lips pouting and wide eyes darting. “What does… What does that mean? Did you, like, step on a rogue VHS or something? ‘Cause I do that all the time, and technically, that’s Rob’s fault for leaving them out, so—”

You shake your head again, digging your nails into the delicate cotton of the well-loved stuffy in your arms. “No. I was just— I was botheringyou, and now I feel bad,” you confess, all quiet like a meek child who’s learning what it means to be sorry.

Steve — your oh, so oblivious one — goes aflame with embarrassment. He’d been too clouded by his own anger to recognize the venom spilling from his mouth; to understand that it would inevitably hurt you.

With chiseled features twisted in confusion, he shakes his head and stammers. “What? No! You weren’t— You weren’t bothering me!”

You turn to look at him, for the first time since he sat down beside you. Your eyes are glassy and swimming with hurt. You try to keep your trembling features stoic. You don’t want to seem as hurt by it all as you really are.

You feel like you should, anyway. What right do you have to be sad when you were the one being a bother?

“You said I was,” you remind him, still soft but sterner now. “You told me to go bother someone else—”

“Oh, babe…” Steve says, deflating just as you had.

He knows how sensitive you are, how deeply you feel things. You’re vulnerable, raw — it makes everything feel more personal than it really is. It makes grumpy jabs from your dumbass boyfriend hurt like a lemon on a weeping wound.

He tries to apologize, knowing that he hurt you and that it’s not up to him to decide that he didn’t.

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to, babe,” he murmurs, swiping a tense hand through his hair and then gesticulating wildly with it. “I was just being a dick, you know? I’ve been super stressed all day and—”

“Don’t apologize. I was being annoying.”

Steve blinks at you with wide, wet eyes — like you’ve hurt him by talking so cruelly about yourself.

“Baby, no. No,” he urges, ducking down to meet your gaze when you look away from him. “I’m just an idiot, okay? I put off inventory until the last second, and Keith’s been on my ass all day about it, and I just— I took that out on you, and that’s not fair, and I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, pursing your bitten lips to the side and twisting the long ear of the bunny between your fingers. “It’s not your fault, Steve…” you murmur, almost inaudibly.

He scoffs. It sounds like a bitter laugh. “Well, actually, it kinda is.”

“I just… I don’t really understand what’s going on sometimes. Or, like, a lot of the time,” you admit with a distracted gaze, eyes flitting everywhere but to the boy beside you. You’re too ashamed to look at him now. “And it’s harder for me to know when I’m talking too much, you know? Or if I’m being super annoying.”

“I know…” Steve nods, trying his best to be sympathetic of you. He loves how soft you are — too much to understand you completely. He loves how gently you treat the rest of the world, how unusually giddy you get in your gentleness.

You swallow through a tightening throat and shrug to pretend your world doesn’t feel like it’s crumbling around you. “And I don’t care about annoying other people— well, I do, but it’s different with you, you know? Other people can’t break up with me for being too much.”

“The idiot that told you you were too much had exactly zero personality,” Steve tells you, mostly because he means it but also to see you smile.

You do, just barely. A grin so soft only someone deathly in love with you could see.

“You’re never annoying me, okay? Ever. I love hearing you talk. I love having you around.”

“Yeah?” you ask him, blinking back burning tears.

“Hell yeah! You’re, like, the best part of my day! The only good part of my day, now that I think about it.”

Biting back a grin, you tease, “Well, what about Robin?”

“Robin made me late today, so we’re kinda not friends right now.”

“That’s mean,” you scold despite the growing smile on your face.

Steve shrugs. “We’ll make up before I clock out. No big deal.”

You go suddenly shy, smiling sheepish and tilting your chin to your chest to peek at him through your lashes. “Are we gonna make up before you clock out?” you wonder quietly.

“Only if you’re willing to forgive me for being an insufferable douchebag,” Steve answers, only half-joking. He very seldomly feels worthy of your softness.

You look at him with it, anyway.

Full on beaming now, you reach across the short distance to wrap him in a firm embrace. The position is only slightly awkward. Sitting side by side with your asses on the hard carpet, your arms wound tightly around his neck — a bit like a snake smothering its prey.

Steve feels grateful to be held so ardently.

His nose smushes into your neck. The sweet scent of your perfume entwines with the warm scent of your sweater. He smiles into your shoulder when it makes you giggle. You pull back from him then, just to steal a quick peck a moment later. Your lips smack audibly against his grin.

“Can we make out before you clock out?” you lilt with a shy smirk.

“…That is the single best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Your giggle fills the empty store when Steve rises suddenly and pulls you with him. He leads you toward the back, tugging you by the hand down the short corridor and rambling all the way. “Keith left for the day, so his office is empty, which means it’s fair game—”

“I am not making out with you in Keith’s office!”

“But his desk chair is crazy comfortable, and also, he’s a dick, so… who cares?”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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running-with-kn1ves · 3 months

Text

Drunken Stupor

A/N: this is based off of that drunken yan gangster idea that I couldn't get out of my head. I might rewrite it or do it differently but this is 4 u my 1 gangster lovin' anon for now!

OG Yandere Gangster Drabble (nsft) w/ da Yan Gangster Ramble

TW: kidnapping, drunken yandere, noncon kissing (no nsft), threats, toxic behavior,

Puzzles, accompanied by whatever news channel you could get through. Paint-by-number pictures, and shitty DVD’s from another time. Horribly thin sheets and an aching back--- you were completely, utterly, and seemingly irrevocably, isolated. The tight handcuffs around your feet only allowed you to hop around the house, barely making it to the front door before you tripped over the rug and nosedived into the cold, black floor.

How long has it been? When was the last time you felt the spring wind on your face? You weren’t even allowed to open the windows, out of your captors fear of you screaming for help, even with him right next to you. He gave you countless things to keep yourself entertained, whether they be knitting grandma-like sweaters or taking up a different artistic hobby, anything that could keep you in one spot for long without the need to move or the option to hurt yourself.

You were tempted to scream, to throw your half-finished puzzle at the wall and destroy the nice room set up for you that once belonged to the lone bachelor-- who, was much later than usual tonight. Your throat was too sore to keep up with the screaming however, and you pushed it to the back of your mind to try again tomorrow. If he came home all of a sudden and found you screaming at the ripe hour of 11 PM, he might do more than just threaten with one of his switchblades.

You hated being around the bastard, feeling so terrified and weak like maybe today would finally be your last-- but at this point, you were going insane being by yourself for so long. Even a nice screaming match with him until your voice finally left you would more desirable than watching another 80s thriller that would haunt your dreams, alone. For someone who wasn’t home very often, he certainly had an extensive collection of old gangster movies, romcoms too even. But you couldn’t put Sixteen Candles on again without wanting to rip your eyes out-- not even one of his five million copies of The Godfather. Who needs that many copies of the same movie?

Your exhausted, beaten-down brain jolted at the sound of someone jerking at the door handle. The door practically thumped with the lock against the wall, dust raining as it was violently ripped back and forth. But then came the familiar jangle of an overloaded key ring, one you had heard most nights for what you can only assume has been the past month.

Finally, your spiked anxiety crashed when you saw those familiar, much-too-shiny-for-a-gangster-to-be-wearing black leather shoes thump inside. You peaked your head out from your sitting position near the opened bedroom door, trying to get a glimpse without getting up and alerting him of your presence. It was inevitable for him to come to you, his kidnapee, but you tried to postpone the smothering for as long as possible. Maybe now was the time to chuck that puzzle.

“You reallyyy gotta hold *hic* on mee…”

Mismatched footsteps trudged, stopping first to hit the corner of what you could only assume was the livingroom loveseat.

“Move outa ma way, couch! ..Even though you… treeat me *hic* badlyy..”

You heard the raking of fingernails on the couch cushions, the clink of a bottle rolling on the ground back and forth. You didn’t dare look back through the door crack. Maybe you should shut it? Lord knows what that would cause him to do, though.

“You still gotts’a hold on me…”

The sing-songy voice came closer, belonging to the madman you dreaded the return of. Within the crack of the door you saw a dark silhouette, the TV casting a face-shadowing glow that made you just an inch more terrified.

“Hey, baby…” He hiccuped.

“Well that’s new,” You started, looking away from him back to your puzzle. “When did I become your ‘baby’?”

He moaned thoughtfully, thinking about your rhetorical question. “After you kidnapped me, I suppose?”

Maybe it was wrong to poke the beast, especially because he smelled like dirty whiskey and had three buttons too loose on his dress shirt, showing a deep scar betwixt his faint chest hair. A vulnerable image he’d never let you witness soberly.

“Hrmmm….” He pushed his entire weight on the door, letting it creak open as he looked at you with a smile.

“I dunno…maybe.” He laughed a little, giving a small snort like a schoolboy hearing his first nasty joke.

You rolled your eyes. Damn, as if you weren’t on edge before, now you were going to have to deal with the equivalent of a murderous toddler who’s been threatening to hurt you ever since you were first brought here. Drunken fools were best left at the bar.

But your icy demeanor didn’t sway his unsettingly good mood, the gangster opening the door all the way to flop onto your (unwillingly) shared bed. He dug his face into the sheets that smelled like you, looking at the back of your head that was pressed against the edge of the mattress.

“Was thinkin’ bout’cha…” He murmurs, tugging at a strand of your hair from behind. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ to the boys, ‘bout how pretty you are..”

The short yanks at your hair to get your attention were becoming annoying, though you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of glaring face-to-face.

“Told em’ how nice you look when yer sleepin’, when ya brush ya teeth, sayin’ that they’re not allowed to have ya....”

You hummed in response, trying to bend away to get closer to your puzzle. But you could sense the bubbling in your stomach, could feel that something was coming. Whether it’d be a bunch of slobbered kisses or your early demise, you couldn’t tell.

“Oh really?” You asked, knowing he’d been adamant on not saying a word or letting make a peep about your existence in his gang-funded condo.

“Yah, I did. Don’t believe me? Said i’d cut their fingers off, like boss does when some’n fucks up. I’d slam into em, make em watch while I...”

He went quiet, and you thanked whatever made him. Whatever he said, you didn’t want to know; you’d already had enough of an unwilling look into his violent thoughts.

“Well, doesn’t matter now, right... ‘cause now I gots’ya here. Mmph,” You hear him kick his shoes off, his face coming up to bury in your hair. “Smellin’ so good, lookin’ so nice fr’ me… wanting you so bad.”

The sound of him inhaling you, his nose pressed to your neck as he shimmies his head deeper against you like a cat is uncomfortably warm. You feel two hands creep up, looking for your shoulders to push you back and make you more accessible.

The gangster wasn’t normally so affectionate, so quiet and simple when he spoke. You were waiting for it to be replaced by his normal, angrily resentful behavior, the type that’d pull you by the hair to kiss you, that’d rant about the idiots he’d had to deal with for the day at you. But maybe, just maybe, you were in the clear for now?

“You’re acting weird,” You try to jerk away. “I’m not in the mood to entertain you, okay? Just, let me do my puzzle in peace. Go take a shower or something.”

He’s quick to respond, wrapping veiny arms around your shoulders and dangerously close to your neck.

“Nuh huh, not unless yer comin’ with me, wanna show how much I loove you,” His head pops up closer to yours, the stressed crinkles under his eyes making him look older. “Cuz’ baby, you reallyy gotta hold on mee..”

“Stop stop stop.” You couldn’t take the second-hand embarassment of listening him to try to sing again, horribly off key and far too confident in each drawn out word. “What do I have to do to stop you from singing again?”

“I can’t hold it in though. Love’s too strong for you, love.” His disheveled hair, once slicked back in an oily black, now strewn about across his forehead as it nearly covers his eyebrows. He presses his forehead towards you. “Lemme kiss. Told the boys you give the best kisses, lemme prove it..”

“Prove what-- they’re not even here!” You try to go under his arm-barricade, only to be stopped as he practically puts his full weight forward, dragging him with you each time you move.

“Lovin’ you for so long, jusst a kiss, just one kith..” He reaches for your cheek with his lips, ignoring how you whip your head around in retaliation.

“No, no! You stink like a bar and ciggarettes, get off me.”

He grunts in frustration, biting down on his lower lip as his dark, full eyebrows furrow together.

“Let me kiss or i’ll.. I’ll gut you like a fish, my lovely..”

You stopped at that, looking out of the corner of your eye to his pink-tinted cheeks and strong neck that sweated at the sight of you.

He puts a ringed knuckle to your cheek, huffing as his eyes go half-lidded. His suit was all wrinkled from rolling around on the bed, dirty with the day’s work and bar-stench as he forced you back against the end of the mattress.

“C’mon, don’t make me say stuff like that just for a kiss…” He whined, scooting closer. “Maybe I’ll start singing again, y’knoww, if y’don’t come close.”

“Please just… don’t hurt me.” You mumbled, trying to avoid that blank, dark look he often held that came crawling back a moment ago. You didn’t want that sober side right now; this was somehow easier to handle, even if it meant losing your dignity.

“Don’t wanna, never will,” He hums, staring unbothered at your lips, as if he wasn’t holding you tight enough to suffocate. “S’just kiss me, need it bad..”

You looked around, as if there was anyone else looking, trying to avoid the task that made you shiver inside.

But you didn’t get a chance to reject the drunken gangster again, his wet lips coming against the side of your face. He poked the tip of his tongue out, flicking against your lip before going tongue-first into your surprised mouth.

Anytime he had tried to kiss you, to do anything overtly intimate, the most he released was the silent huffs of a man too wrapped up in himself to let you hear anything of pleasure. But now, you witnessed the lewd shlops of his lips against yours, the neediness of the back of his throat, groaning to be deeper inside of you.

One of his heavy hands cradled the back of your head, his stupor not caring (or rather, not noticing) how little you moved, how you seemed to be backing into his large palm that massaged your hair.

“Loved’ya forever, so happy you were so stupid…” He mumbles between licks to the corner of your lip, diving back into the sticky warmth of you. “What kinda… mph, idiot, doesn’t..hugh, report to the police..?”

With his arm once wrapped around you, the gangster takes your limp wrist to his collar, bringing it to hold his loose tie. He makes you drag him closer, guiding your slow and frowning lips in his one-sided makeout session.

“Not’ma fault, making your life so much better now.. N’now, you’re mine.” He grins, a stupid little grin from the alcohol and delusion swarming his head as he consumes you, fingers coming to fiddle with your cotton T-shirt as he draws lines down your chest. “My sweet sunshine, all mine, forever n’ ever.”

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formulaforza · 9 months

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💐 hi my wonderful birthday girl !! so i was thinking about a dress coded lewis blurb (because i was born a lewis and ts girl) where they just get drunk together and there’s teases flying and stuff. keep it as brief as u wish <333

—you can take it off

lewis hamilton x merc!reader summ. thank you stephy i love u bad <3 inspo from... ur never gonna believe it... this. hope it's up to your standards my love. 2.7k (kind of got out of hand)

You were half-asleep and half-drunk the night of the Belgium Grand Prix. The air was cool, recycled like all air seems to be in hotels, smelled of too-strong perfume and was filled with the dull noise of elevator jazz. What had begun as a before-we-go-to-bed night cap in the hotel bar with Bono had turned into a seemingly never ending addition of guests.

Valtteri was first to join—never could pass up the opportunity to give you shit, to offer you job postings at Alfa Romeo that weren’t job postings at all—and with him around, there’s no casual drinking. You don’t try to keep up, not really, because you know you don’t stand a chance, but also because he would never let you. After all these years of being just a few months younger than him, he still calls you kiddo, still promises to call your parents when you’re out after dark, and always sends you a text after a race with some… questionable strategy decisions you’re catching flack for online.

A brief appearance from Toto and Susie, just long enough for them to know they had no business trying to go drink for drink with Valtteri, and then they’re wishing all three of you a wonderful summer break and retreating to whatever room is considered prestige enough for Motorsport’s it-couple.

And then there was Lewis, the last to arrive, who never called you kid, who never viewed you as one. He sits adjacent you in the red, high back leather booth and takes up a seat and a half, the toe of his shoe brushing against the side of yours, flashing you apologetic puppy dog eyes every time he bumps against yours.

It’s somewhere between drink number five and six that Lewis gets his first, insists on a toast to the summer break that officially began… six hours and fifty-three minutes ago. For a long season this and a too-short summer break that, you lot had a mouthful of things to complain about, but a million more to be grateful for. “To not having work for a month,” Lewis proposes, clinking his glass against yours, offering a quick wink and holding it up properly over the table.

“To no racing-talk for a few weeks,” Bono adds, clinking his glass against Lewis’.

“To summer-fucking-break,” Valtteri chimes in, laughing at himself before the rest of you get the chance to match it.

“To summer fucking break,” you repeat because you know there’s no better way to sum it all up.

Unlike the other two, you slowed down when Lewis joined, wanted to give him time to catch up, to give yourself time to meet him somewhere in the middle. A glass of water and a virgin rum and coke and another water and the night is still young.

“First summer break as the big boss, kiddo,” Valtteri remarks, and you have to squint to hear him through the alcohol-induced thickening of his accent.

“That’s right!” Bono laughs. Your cheeks run hot at their mention of your title, of your promotion following James’ departure earlier in the season. Lewis smiles against the rim of his glass, bumps his foot against yours and doesn’t give you apologetic eyes. No, he raises his brows so slightly you think you’re the only one that notices, which is probably exactly the way he intended it to be. “Little miss queen of strategy is making the big money now, got any big travel plans?”

Lewis clears his throat, and your eyes dart over to his almost instinctively. “You’re staying in London, yeah?”

He’s right. Your summer-break plans consist of four weeks of trying to remember what it feels like to do nothing, failing at that task pathetically, and spending the rest of the time meticulously picking apart every call you’ve made all season and imagining the million and one things you could’ve done differently and their billion and two outcomes.

You pick apart the drink napkin, tear it into tiny little pieces. “Yeah, yeah. Just staying home, catching up with friends and family,” you clarify, try not to sound as pathetic as you feel. It’s hard not to when you’re sitting next to the guy who spends his offseason snowboarding in Antarctica with his celebrity friends and his weeks off traveling to Paris fashion week for front row seats next to supermodels. Anything you say would sound pathetic to someone who makes thirty-five million a year.

“I love it,” he nods, stares right through you and into your soul so you know he’s being genuine. “That’s awesome.”

You nod, swallow hard, purposely angle your body away from his, to the rest of the group. “What about you guys?”

Lewis laughs, soft, quiet, completely under his breath. The kind of laugh that deserves to be bottled into a jar and kept on a shelf for safe keeping. You know he’s always laughed like that, even before he knew you, but in the last few months it just feels different. Good different, like he’s laughing just for you now instead of everyone else too.

You know you’re crazy, that he’s just Lewis being Lewis and you’re just single for the first time in a long time and also drunk. Not half drunk anymore, just drunk—even if you do think you’re meeting him in the middle, you’re not. He’s just chasing after.

“Back home, too,” Bono concludes. “Take a breather, might head up to the country with the family.”

“You’ll take pictures, yeah?” Lewis asks, starts to pick up the pieces of your napkin tear pile and move them in front of him like a kid who isn’t patient enough to share or destructive enough to rip up his own. You watch in your peripheral, the way he fiddles with the wet paper, gets it stuck to his fingertips. You can’t laugh, so you don’t, but you want to. You think he knows you want to.

Bono scoffs, nods while swallowing a sip of his drink—something dark, something pungent. Not what you would have pegged him for ordering, even after knowing him as long as you have. “So I can compare with the likes of you lot and,” he turns to Lewis, leers around you to emphasize the eyeline, “your million dollar vacations or,” and then the other way, back to Valtteri, “your olympic cycling events?”

Valtteri smiles, swirls his drink—gin, you think. Expensive. “Yes.”

“No chance.”

“I’ll be sure to send you a picture of me having a meltdown when I think about our side pods from the beginning of the year,” you chime in, because it’s not like they all don’t know you well enough to know exactly what you mean by spending time with friends and family at home.

“What sidepods?” Lewis chuckles.

“Fucking exactly,” you add, mirror his mannerisms without even realizing it, all the way down to readjusting in your seat when you’ve had your laugh.

“Could be worse,” Bono offers. “Could be last year.”

Lewis nods, holds his drink up in the direction of Valtteri across the table. “We never should have let you leave.”

He smiles, weak, lips pursed. “I could have told you that.”

The night continues on, all drinks and laughs and yawns, occasional remarks that it’s about time I head up, followed by another round, another joke, another comment about this, that, or the other thing.

You’ve always liked Lewis when he’s a little tipsy. He lightens up a bit, you can actually watch the stress drip from him like sweat, all the titles and the wins and the losses, they all just fall away when he’s relaxed like this. You’ve always liked him like this. Always. Before he was king of the world and before he was the prodigal son and every moment in between.

After every joke he makes—or, after every comment he makes that he thinks could be considered a joke—you find yourself laughing, because it’s Lewis and you have a crush on him and of course you do. And, without fail, everytime you laugh, he winks, like you’re in on some inside joke even though he’s making it to the whole table, like there’s some double meaning to all of his words that are meant just for you, just for the two of you to understand.

Somewhere in it all, it comes back to Lewis, because, well, it always does. “Is your back still bothering you?” Bono asks, and you think you already know the answer. You think you know, because you can’t remember the last time you;d seen him take careful consideration of his posture when he sits. Not even now is he sitting up straight, with his legs perfectly spread a shoulder’s width apart and his feet flat on the floor. Instead, he’s taking up more room than he needs to, all relaxed and comfortable on the leather booth bench.

He swipes his thumb over the condensation of his glass, looking up from the action at you, and then to Bono. “No, no. All good there.”

“All good?” Bono prods, because he was on the receiving end of a year and a half of complaints from Lewis.

Lewis nods, clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “No Paracetamol in a month.”

Across the table, Valterri chimes in. “None?”

“None for my back,” Lewis says, and the whole table laughs. You just watch him, though, because who laughs better than he does? You could wax poetic about it without a second thought, the way that his lips upturn and his cheeks round and his eyes crinkle and go soft in a way that makes you feel like you’re the funniest person in the world even when you’re not making a joke. The way that his smile is brighter than anyone’s you’ve ever seen, and the way that if you look at it for too long, you think about how it would feel to run your finger along the gap in his teeth.

“That’s what I thought,” Valtteri mutters off the end of his laugh. “You're getting old.”

“Not too old to make half a million.”

The entire table’s heads fly to him. You gasp, an embarrassingly wide smile on your face. “You didn’t!” You almost yell, smacking his upper arm with a weak hand.

He mocks your gasp, makes it somehow more dramatic and over the top and laughs sweetly, shrugging your hand off his arm and letting his hand fall to your leg, bumping your foot with his again. “I didn’t.” The table chuckles, you pout, and then you realize that his hand is on your thigh, that it’s staying there quite comfortably, and that you mind it less than he does.

“Don’t be a tease,” you sigh, take a swig of your drink. Your knees are suddenly weak, like you know you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you wanted to. It’s like he can sense your change but can’t quite read it, because then he’s moving his hand back to his own lap, interlocking it with the other and resting it there.

He nods, suddenly shy, suddenly guilty. “It’s as good as done.”

Valtteri laughs. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” You hear what he says, but you’re not listening, not really. Lewis stares into you like he wants to look anywhere else—apologetic eyes and a fear he’s taken a misstep. He hasn’t, you want to tell him. You haven’t, put your hand back, please. Silently, you try to convey what shouldn’t dare be spoken. “I’ll believe it when pen is on paper.”

He snaps his eyes away from you, back to Valtteri. You don’t follow suit, stay fixed on him, on trying— hard—to get your message across. “I’m telling you, they’re announcing it after the summer break.”

“Whatever you say, Mate.”

Bono nods around a mouthful of alcohol, sets his half-empty glass down with an incidental thud. “Who’s to say we still want your geriatric ass?”

Lewis raised his interlocked hands from his lap, to the tabletop, resting his elbows on the wood grain and rattling the empty glasses when he does it. He leans in towards the center of the table, even though the only person separating him and Bono is you. “Would you tell Schumacher ‘no?’”

“What was that?” You ask, your words a convenient excuse to lean in closer, to settle into a spot that much closer to him without raising any brows. To brace for the shift, you leave your hand on his thigh with less subtly than your original movement, but it’s okay. It’s okay—only Lewis knows where your hands are, and you don’t want it to be subtle, don’t want anything to be lost in translation. “I can’t hear you over your ego,” you smile, and your fingers dance up his leg just a few, careful inches.

He drops back into his seat, drops his hands back into his lap. Under the table, he grabs yours and laughs, but it’s stifled, stunted, not quite relaxed. “Very funny,” he humors, and moves your hand back. His stays too, though, and he crosses one leg over the other under the table. His thumb moves over the fabric of your slacks in shudder-worthy circles.

“Someone’s gotta check you,” you smile, nod in the direction of your tablemates without ever looking away from him. “These two won’t.”

Bono scoffs.“Are you kidding?”

Your smile grows. “How do you want me to answer that, Peter?”

“Damn,” Lewis laughs so hard he coughs. “She Peter-ed you. That’s cold.”

“You’re the one comparing yourself to Michael fucking Schumacher,” Bono scolds.

“I didn’t say that, but,”

“But!” You interject.

“But,” Lewis laughs, threatens to continue even though all at the table know he won’t, knows that no matter how often the media and the girlfriends and the friends and the family tell him he should put himself up there with the greatest, he’ll never quite see himself in the same light. “But it’s about time I head up, I think.”

“Ah, see,” Valtteri chuckles. “Old man Hamilton can’t hang.”

“No, he can not,” Lewis remarks, pulling his phone and his hotel keycard from his pocket, setting the latter on the table and if you were feeling a little crazier than you are, you’d swear he nudges it ever so slightly out of his bubble and into yours. He types away rapidly at his phone, and you try to pay attention to the jokes Bono and Valtteri throw around, the pokes at Lewis they make, but suddenly you’re feeling like it’s a good time to head up, too. You try to shake the crazy, to leave it with your backwash in the final sip of your drink, and you do. You do.

You do, but then he’s slipping his phone back into his pocket. He’s leaving his glass just beyond his keycard and telling you to feel free to finish it. He’s saying his goodbyes while he moves out of the booth and his hotel room key is still sat on the table next to you. It stares at you—the hard, thin plastic. Stares at you in its white paper pocket with the intricate printing of the hotel label and dares you to look at him when he walks away.

You do, begrudgingly, subtly, and his eyes are already on yours. They’re expressionless, and yet, say so fucking much. You hold the remainder of his drink in his direction before downing it in a single gulp and then he winks at you. He looks at his keycard on the table, and then to you, and then he winks, and you’re sure you’re absolutely crazy.

You swallow.

“Oh, fuck,” Bono says, reaches over you to grab the keycard from the table. It’s like you were zoned out and he snapped in front of your face, the way it pulls you from Lewis to the table. “He forgot his key.”

“Oh,” you squeak, and then louder, “I can take it to him.”

“No, no, It’s okay,” Bono says, and he makes you stand up to get out of the booth. “I should be heading up anyway.”

“Really,” you half-insist, trying to convince him you can handle it without letting him in on why you’re convincing him. “It’s no problem.”

Bono pulls out his wallet, flips through the pockets of it and fiddles with his bills. “Our rooms are right by each other,” he insists, tosses his share onto the table. “I got it.”

“Okay,” you nod, accept your defeat. “Yeah, I should be heading up, too, I guess.”

941 notes · View notes

lizziesribbons · 5 months

Note

wedding wanda please!! she’d just fall in love w u all over again and then the night of ur wedding she just goes feral and calling u “my wife” “all mine” and she just gets super possessive and proud that u are now hers !!!

I Do |

PAIRING: WANDA MAXIMOFF X FEM! READER

summary: Wanda and you get married and then then Wanda goes all soft and fuckes you in your wedding dress ahhh

warnings: ****MINORS DNI***** *****MEN DNI***** fluff so much fluff 🥺 I'm going so aahwhwhwh, smut, praise ALOT OF PRAISE AHHH, name calling (Wanda calling you my wife, my love, princess, doll) I sobbed I wanna have soft sex with Wanda so bad I just know she will be the most gentle.

author's note: just reminding you guys that my first language is not English so if there's any grammatical errors PLEASE IGNORE THEM AND MOVE TF ON. Also I have no idea how weddings work so I did what I did

Word count: 2.1k

_______________________________________________________________________________

standing in your bridal gown, looking outside, and seeing Wanda standing there waiting for you, it was like a dream come true you've been waiting months for this day and now it was finally here. It seemed like everything around you just stopped. You could see nothing else but Wanda. In a white wedding gown, soon to be your wife. YOUR WIFE.

your dad came from behind holding your arm, breaking you from your gazing he said "Are you ready to go down the aisle sweetheart?" you took a deep breath and nodded as you both started walking.

as you walk down the aisle everyone cheers, "You are in Love" by Taylor Swift playing faintly in the background as you looked at Wanda and saw your whole world right there and then. It was like you were born to live this day and day alone. Everything seemed perfect everything made sense now.

Wanda looked at you and smiled. She smiled so hard that her cheeks started hurting. Tears in her eyes she saw you as you stood there in front of her, she wanted to kiss you so badly.

Clint was the one leading the wedding because Wanda insisted as he was the closest father figure to her and she loved him so dearly. "Wanda and y/n my two beautiful friends and my family members. I have known y/n ever since she was a little girl, she was always so compassionate and funny" he pauses and light laugh "So funny actually. She was always goofing around and her jokes oh my God I cannot forget them she was always joking about something or someone she would make me laugh in the darkest of times" he paused again looked at you and smiled. "let me tell you, guys, something, one time when y/n was wearing a pillow on her head as a wedding veil came up to me, she was only five at time. and asked me "Uncle Clint!!!! do I look good???" and gave me a twirl and haha I said "ofc you do sweetheart, who's your groom?" and she looked at me and rolled her eyes "Silly I don't have a groom I'm marrying my doll cause I love her the most" and then she forced me by giving me those pretty pleading eyes that still work to this day to come to her wedding and I went and now here I am standing in between y/n and Wanda at their actual wedding" with now tears in his eyes he looked at Wanda

"Wanda.. Oh, I've known Wanda for more than 10 years now I saw her grow up into this powerful beautiful woman she is now, I remember when she came up to me asking me if she should ask y/n out I told her whatever was in her heart she should just put it out, I saw there relationship grow stronger and stronger each day. They are the most for each other as one could be, I remember when Wanda asked me how she should propose to y/n I told her the same thing again that she should do whatever is in her heart, Wanda my pretty Wanda I love you and I'm so proud of you for the women you have become, my heart breaks into millions when I think about how both of you are not so little anymore but it screams in joy when I see you two together so in love with each other." that was it he stopped talking, he was softly sobbing now so are many of our friends and family members.

He speaks again after some silence clearing his throat, "We are gathered here today to witness the sacred union of Wanda Maximoff and Y/n Y/l/n We stand here to honor and celebrate the love shared between these two people, as they come together to start their new life with a solemn vow, surrounded by their closest family and friends"

He turned to Wanda and said "Repeat after me.

I, Wanda take you, Y/n, to be my wife. I promise that from this day forward I will regard you not only as my equal, but as my closest friend. I promise to comfort you in sickness and in health. I promise to demonstrate my commitment to you through love, laughter, and compassion. I love you." and as Wanda did he looked at you next and said "Repeat after me.

I, Y/n take you, Wanda, to be my wife. I promise that from this day forward I will regard you not only as my equal, but as my closest friend. I promise to comfort you in sickness and in health. I promise to demonstrate my commitment to you through love, laughter, and compassion. I love you." "It's time for the vows," he says softly

You begin first "Wanda, darling, for so long, I wondered if I would ever find my love, my soulmate. Then four years ago, at another wedding, I turned to a friend for comfort, and instead, I found everything that I’d ever been looking for my whole life. And now, here we are, with our future before us, and I only want to spend it with you – my love, my soulmate, my friend… Unless you don’t want to.”

Wanda started tearing up but holding her composure she began, "Y/n, I thought this was going to be the most difficult thing I ever had to do. But when I saw you walking down that aisle, I realized how simple it was. I love you. Any surprises that come our way, it’s ok, because I will always love you. You were the person I was meant to spend the rest of my life with."

(An: these vows are definitely not stolen from friends)

"just to be sure" he laughs "Do each of you take the other to be your lawful wedded spouse?”

Wanda and you say together with eagerness "I do".

After exchanging the rings he speaks again,

"By the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you wife and wife. You may now kiss" and took a step back as Wanda eagerly came forward and kissed me softly and whispered "oh I've been waiting all day for this" making you laugh and tear up.

"Ladies and Gentleman, for those of you who have come to witness this union, it is my pleasure to present the newly united couple, Y/N and WANDA Maximoff."

there's that. you and Wanda were married. Actually married. the rest of the evening went great everyone danced laughed cried.

____________________________________________________________

(wedding night)

Your flight was tomorrow in evening so you and Wanda had the whole night to yourself, as you sat there on the bed taking off your jewelry Wanda came from the back rubbing your shoulders you instantly relaxed in her touch

She bent down so she could whisper in your ear softly "I want to fuck you in this dress" You could hear the smirk on her face, and as you hesitantly looked at her she immediately knew what you meant "I promise I'll be gentle no damage would be done to that dress" Wanda knew how much you loved that dress so she wouldn't dare ruining it

"I bought this just for tonight," she says holding a Scarlett strap out in her hand, it was just perfect not too big or too small

"lay down" she whispers in your ear and you did, she folds your dress to your waist and takes off your underwear Wanda was only in her undergarments she took them off and fastened the harness around her as she stood between your legs she caressed your legs and align the strap to your opening slowly entering you while maintaining eye contact as she watched your face confronted in pleasure, only light moans coming out of your mouth

you underestimated the size, it wasn't too thick but it was long. When Wanda was fully in she gave you a moment to get used to the strap

Her fingers entwined with yours, your foreheads touching lightly she thrusts inside you, slowly but hard, every thrusting was pulling a moan out of you as Wanda gasped in your ear throwing praises here and there

"you're doing so good princess"

"my pretty wife"

"oh baby you look so pretty like that"

she didn't stop the praises her thrusts only speeding up, not too fast just perfect sending you into ecstasy, her strap hit your g spot in every thrust "Wanda I'm cumming!!" without warning you came all over her strap.

"Can you give me one more doll? please?" looking at her pleading eyes you weakly nodded as Wanda gently fucks you through your orgasm, kissing your neck so softly she said "My wife only mine" She gasps her orgasm reaching her soon "All mine! cum with me baby," she says as she let out a moan collapsing over you, making sure not to put all her weight on you, you came soon after.

As you both came down from your high Wanda tried to get up but your arms stopped her "Noo please don't go" she cupped your face and said "I'll just be a minute princess" She got and undid the harness and threw it down, took your dress off softly and cleaned you up and herself

"here take some water baby" She gave you and glass of water and you drank as she took the wedding dress to the closet, peaking her head out from the closet she asked, "do you wanna sleep with clothes on or off doll?" "off please" you replied softly yawning

Wanda nodded and got out of the closet, as you made someplace in the bed for her she got under the cover immediately holding you, you lay your head on her chest clutching her like a koala

Wanda started caressing your back "Goodnight my beautiful wife", you smiled and muttered something out hoping Wanda would understand.

And she did. She always does.

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #dark!wanda maximoff #lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #mommy wanda #soft wanda maximoff

681 notes · View notes

rollingsins · 8 months

Text

Quinn Bailey Must Die, p4

p1 | p2 | p3 | p4

summary: Tara puts her plan into action. YN loses a bet. all hers universe.

warnings: (+18), Tara is (was) Ghostface, language. Sexual content.

pairing: tara carpenter x reader, sam carpenter x quinn bailey

word count: 2.9k

a/n: ass agenda rise.

Tara’s plan comes to fruition over cups of black coffee, your scrambled eggs and a half-eaten set of Mickey Mouse waffles.

Mindy’s brow is pinched as she drafts up the first message.

You’re a little restless, Tara’s hand on your back doing nothing to soothe you.

“There,” Says Mindy, after a moment, “How’s that?”

Tara takes back her phone.

“Hey,” She reads out, “What u up 2?”

Tara blinks.

“This is what took you five minutes to draft?” She asks, voice scathing.

Mindy huffs.

“No,” She says, “That’s just a primer. You can’t go in all guns blazing, Tara, she’ll get suspicious.”

Tara rolls her eyes.

“Been thinking about u lately,” Tara continues, “Feels weird how we left things.”

You clench your jaw.

Tara rubs your back, absent-mindedly.

“How r u doing? Sorry when my gf gets crazy like that there’s nothing I can do.”

You scowl.

Mindy ducks behind her coffee cup.

“Mindy, I don’t type like this,” Says Tara, hotly, “Where’s the grammar? This sounds like it was written by a fourteen year old boy.”

“Fourteen year old boy is Mindy’s spirit animal,” Says Chad with a grin, throwing a blueberry between his lips.

“Shut up, Chad,” Groans Mindy, “Tara, fine, you can change the grammar. But the rest of it? Does it work?”

Tara purses her lips.

“I suppose it’s not terrible.” She offers.

Mindy smiles.

“Skip a bit,” She suggests, “Get to the good stuff.”

Tara scrolls, and reads out the rest of Mindy’s text.

“I always thought u were sexy,” Tara reads, “You know Ginger Spice was always my favorite spice girl.”

Tara raises an eyebrow.

You snort.

“This is the good stuff?” Chad asks, “Mindy, you could have a billionaire dollars and you still wouldn’t be able to talk a thirty dollar hooker into bed with you. No wonder you can’t get a girlfriend.”

Tara sniggers.

Mindy shoots a glare his way.

“I can too get a girlfriend,” Says Mindy, voice hot, “I just don’t want one right now. Girls are high maintenance, I don’t have time for that.”

“Amen.” Mumbles Tara.

You nudge an elbow into her side.

“Ow.”

“You can not have a girlfriend too, if I’m too high maintenance.” You say, and Tara shakes her head.

“You’re worth the maintenance baby,” Says Tara, as you dodge her kiss, “You’re like a really nice lawn. No house is complete without it.”

“Romantic.” You deadpan, “How come you’re a house and I’m just a lawn?”

“You’re a mansion, baby,” Tara assures, “A ten million dollar mansion with an infinity pool.”

Mindy huffs.

“Can we get back to the mission?” She asks, sounding annoyed, “If you don’t like my pickup lines, you’re welcome to try out your own, Casanova.”

“I don’t need pickup lines,” Assures Tara, “Isn’t that right, baby? One look and you were smitten.”

“And one sentence and I have the ick.” You say, crinkling your nose.

Tara’s smile drops.

“Babe.” She whines as Mindy snorts.

“Give it to me,” Chad says, with a sigh, “Apparently I’m the only one around here who can talk to a girl.”

“‘Wanna come watch me lift weights?’ is not the pick up line you think it is, Chad,” Says Mindy, voice wry, “Besides, it won’t work coming from Tara.”

“I lift weights,” Tara says, with a frown, “I’m getting super strong, see?”

She flexes her bicep.

You roll your eyes.

Mindy raises an eyebrow.

“You’re like 4’11, Tara,” She says, “I could snap you in half without flinching.”

“I’m 5’1 and I’ll snap you in half if you don’t stop talking.” Growls Tara.

“Guys,” Says Liv, flailing her hands, “Stop. Chad’s got it. Show them, babe.”

Tara takes back her phone, still scowling.

“Can’t stop thinking about you,” She reads, “Should have kissed you. Sorry I didn’t.”

Mindy tilts her head.

“It works,” She admits.

“And if she just shows Sam the message?” You ask, “Then what?”

“She won’t, babe,” Says Tara, squeezing your arm, “Do you even remember how hard she worked for me?”

You do remember.

You wish you didn’t.

Tara presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

“And besides, if she shows Sam the messages, Sam will know how serious I am about this.” She kisses you, “It’s going to work, babe, I know it.”

“When are you going to send them?” Asks Liv.

Tara thinks.

“When she’s away from Sam,” Says Tara, “Maybe tonight. We’ll rope her into a movie night, right babe? That way we’ll know Quinn’s nowhere near Sam.”

You sigh.

“Come on,” You say, voice a little glum, “We better head back. With any luck, they’ll be done and she’ll be gone.”

“What’s your favorite breakfast food?” Asks Quinn, head pressed against Sam’s pillow.

“Eggs,” She answers, “With Arugula, preferably. Maybe a little balsamic vinegar.

Quinn wrinkles her nose.

“Most people say pancakes,” She teases, lightly, “Or bacon.”

Sam frowns.

“I believe you should only put good things into your body.” She says.

Quinn smirks.

“Nice to know I’m a good thing, then.” Smiles Quinn.

Sam’s cheeks turn red.

“You know what I meant.” She says.

Quinn leans over and kisses her.

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” Asks Quinn.

Sam shrugs.

“It’s Sunday,” She says, “I was just going to relax.”

Quinn bites her lip.

“How about we go and get some Eggs with arugula? My treat.”

Sam bites her lip. The thought of spending more time with Quinn is surprisingly, not that unpleasant.

“Alright,” She says, with a smile. Butterflies flutter in her belly, “If it’s your treat.”

“Sam?” Tara calls, as she cracks open the door, as if she’s scared of what’s behind it.

You press against her back, impatient.

“Baby, hold up,” She says, gently, “I don’t want you seeing something.”

“They’re not going to be fucking on the dining table, babe.” You say with a roll of her eyes as you push past her.

“Someone should.” Says Tara, voice pointed.

You look around.

The apartment is quiet.

Not a peep from Sam’s room. The door is open, the bed messy and unmade. But it's empty.

Tara drops her bag over the counter.

She picks up a small, handwritten note.

“Out for the day, back later.” She reads.

“With Quinn?” You dare ask.

But Tara only smiles back at you.

“Not for much longer,” She says, sounding pleased with herself, “As soon as Sam’s back and out of Quinn’s clutches, I’ll send the texts.”

She moves forward and loops an arm around your waist. Presses a hot kiss to your next.

“Now, about that thing you wanted to do this morning,” She says, voice low.

You cock an eyebrow.

“I think it’s safe to say the moment has passed.” You say.

You squeeze her hips.

“But, babe-“ Tara says, with a whine, “You said-“

“Another time,” You promise, “Besides, don’t you have a test to study for?”

Tara sighs.

“I’m majoring in film, babe, I don’t need to study.”

She looks up, bottom lip in a pout.

“Why don’t I quiz you?” You suggest, “It’ll be fun.”

Tara thinks.

“And if I get all the answers right then I get to rail your ass?”

It earns her a smack.

“You’re not going anywhere near my ass if that’s what your intention is.” You tell her.

“I’ll go slow, babe, I promise,” Tara assures, taking your earlobe between her teeth, “I’ll go so slowly you’ll be begging for it by the time I’m done with you.”

Your stomach flutters.

“Maybe later tonight,” You think after a moment, “If you nail it.”

Tara brightens.

“Not the only thing I’ll be nailing tonight.” She grins.

“Don’t make me change my mind.” You warn.

Sam comes back mid-quiz.

Tara hasn’t gotten a single question wrong, and you’re starting to sweat. There’s a hungry look in her eyes, as if she’s hunting down her prey.

You welcome the distraction.

“Hi girls,” Sam says, as if nothing in the past twenty-four hours has changed, “Do you want lunch?”

“We just ate Sam, thanks,” You say, and she hums.

You catch Tara’s eye.

“Sounds like you had a good night.” Says Tara, a little snarky.

Sam sighs.

“Don’t start, Tara.” She warns.

Tara folds her arms.

“Just don’t come crying to us when she breaks your heart.” She says, a little pointed.

“Tara-” You say, but Sam just rolls her eyes.

“Noted. What do you want for dinner tonight? Cauliflower tacos or lentil spaghetti?”

Tara wrinkles her nose.

“Why don’t we make dinner for you, Sam?” You interject, hurriedly, before Tara can speak, “It’s the least we can do. You cook for us every night.”

Sam blinks, a little surprised.

And then she smiles.

“Alright,” She says, sounding happy, “That sounds nice.”

Sam disappears into her room.

Tara pulls out her phone, giving you a pointed look.

She taps a few buttons and then smiles, pleased with herself.

“Operation you-know-who-must-die is in action,” She mumbles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand, “Now finish the quiz. I’m ready to take my prize.”

Tara aces the quiz.

Not a single question wrong.

In truth, there’s a part of you who had hoped she’d fail. But there’s another part of you positively gleeful she hadn’t.

Tara kisses you with a victorious grin, and then smacks your ass with her hand.

“Go get ready for me,” She says, voice low, “I’m all ready for you, baby.”

“It’s 4PM,” You say, biting you lip, “Maybe we should wait until tonight-”

Tara groans.

Your skin feels sensitive, tingly. The anticipation over the last few questions has you in a hot flush.

It feels exciting. New.

The fact that your girlfriend is preening only adds to the excitement.

“You promised,” She whines, “Stop moving the goalposts. You want me to beg? I’ll beg. Please, baby, let me fuck your ass-”

“Tara.” Sam groans as she emerges from her room, gym bag in hand, “Boundaries, we talked about this-”

Your face flushes red.

You’d die on the spot, if the option were possible. But Tara doesn’t miss a beat.

“I don’t think you can lecture me on boundaries considering the noises that were coming from your room this morning.” Tara says, curling an arm around your waist.

Sam huffs.

“I’m going to the gym,” She mumbles, “YN - something healthy for dinner tonight? Please?”

“You got it, Sam,” You mumble, face bright red.

But Sam is unperturbed. Nothing phases her, at this point. She leaves the apartment with a click of the front door.

“All alone,” Tara murmurs, looping her arms around your waist and squeezing your ass, hard, “So you can be as loud as you want, baby.”

You bite your lip.

“Let me get ready,” You mumble, “Meet you in the bedroom in a bit.”

When you’re showered and ready, you make your way into the bedroom.

Tara’s already laid out her arsenal.

Her strap-on, a bottle of lube longer than your forearm and a grin that tells you this almost certainly won’t be the first time she takes you like this.

You drop your towel.

And watch Tara’s gaze sink down.

“You’re so beautiful,” Tara murmurs, as she reaches you out to take her in your arms, “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”

She pulls you down for a searing kiss.

You’re nervous, but she always finds a way to soothe you. Firm hands on your hips, her mouth working wonders against your lips.

She pulls you on top of her, and then pulls back, nudging her nose against yours.

“We can stop anytime you want,” She promises, “If it’s too much, just say.”

She brushes a strand of rogue hair out of your eyes, “I love you, baby,” She whispers against your lips, “I want you like this, but if it hurts too much, just tell me. I won’t be annoyed. Promise.”

She seals her promise with a kiss.

You don’t doubt her for a second.

You capture her lips once more, arousal pooling in your stomach as you feel her against you.

You’ve denied her before, like this.

You wanted her to work for this.

But in the process, you’ve been denying yourself your own desires.

You slip your tongue into her mouth, grind down against her, ready to give her everything.

And then the front door slams open.

“Tara!” Sam calls, sounding anything but mellowed after her gym session, “Get your ass out here, now.”

The mood shatters. You pull away from Tara, head turning.

Sam sounds pissed.

Tara groans.

“Fuck off, Sam, I’m busy,” She says. She flips you onto your back, nudges herself between your legs.

Sam bangs on the door.

You almost jump out of your skin.

“Quinn told me everything,” She says, voice dangerous, “Get out here now or I’m coming in.”

Tara freezes.

Your heart jumps.

Hastily, Tara slides off you.

She fumbles around for a spare t-shirt and tosses it your way, running a hand through her hair. As if her worst nightmare has just come to realization.

“Tara!” Sam bangs once more.

“I’m coming, Jesus, Sam.” Tara says.

You pull the shirt over your head, fumble around for a pair of sleep shorts.

By the time Tara opens the door, Sam is standing behind it, red-faced, fury in her eyes.

She holds up her phone.

Although you’re squinting, you can still make out Tara’s text messages to Quinn.

“This is next level pathetic, Tara,” Sam says, voice hot, “Even for you.”

“Sam, I can explain-“ Says Tara. .

“You don’t need to explain,” Says Sam, “I know exactly what this is. You trying to prove Quinn is using me. But it didn’t work. She showed me the texts. So now what, Tara?”

“I was just trying to help,” Tara says, voice even.

Sam scoffs.

“You were trying to help?” Sam asks, “You can help me by minding your own business and staying out of it.”

“She’s using you, Sam,” Tara explodes, “It’s obvious to everyone except you. Why can’t you see it?”

“I don’t care if Quinn’s using me,” Says Sam, “I’m using her too, in my own way. That’s what we all do as people, isn’t it? Use each other? For love, for comfort, for sex? Why do you care so much that it’s her?”

“Why does it have to be her?” Growls Tara, “We hate her, Sam. We kicked her out of our apartment, for crying out loud. She tried to ruin our relationship-”

“But she didn’t,” Says Sam, eyes wild, “I have nothing, Tara, don’t you understand? Why couldn’t you let me have this?”

Tara blinks.

You swing your legs over the bed, move to Tara’s side.

“We were just trying to protect you, Sam-” You say, voice a little shaky.

Sam looks over at you.

“You don’t need to protect me,” She says, “Quinn’s fun. Quinn’s easy. I need a little bit of that in my life.”

“She’s certainly easy,” Says Tara, folding her arms.

Sam’s face flashes.

For a moment, you think she might actually hit Tara.

But then she clenches her jaw, and her shoulders draw.

“I’m going away for a while,” Says Sam, after a long moment, “I’m going to stay with Quinn. I can’t even - look at you right now, Tara.”

Tara blinks.

“I was trying to save you.” Says Tara, “You’re going to punish me for that?”

“It’s hardly a punishment,” Retorts Sam, “You don’t want me here anyway, you’ve made that much clear. Now you can do whatever you want.”

“And what about rent?” Asks Tara, voice hot.

Hurt flashes through Sam’s features. Your breath catches in your throat knowing Tara’s said the wrong thing. Again.

“Rent?” Sam asks, voice incredulous.

She scoffs.

And then turns.

You and Tara follow her out, a little hasty. Sam returns to her room and pries her suitcase from under her bedframe.

She starts tossing items in as Tara scrambles.

“No, wait, Sam- that isn’t what I meant,” Says Tara as Sam throws her suitcase onto her bed, “That’s not the most important part of this. YN and I want you to stay. Not just because of rent.”

Sam offers her a weak smile.

“You don’t need your big sister cramping your style,” She says, “Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Maybe I should have just got a second job in California and venmoed you the rent.”

“We’re glad you came, Sam,” You say, a little urgent, “We like living with you. It’s a small apartment, of course we all annoy each other. Tara annoys me everyday. And I annoy her too. That’s just how it is.”

Sam sighs.

“That isn’t how it should be,” She says, “I shouldn't be here, God. I shouldn’t be in your space. I should have left you both alone.”

Tara has a weird look on her face.

“Sam, don’t leave,” She asks, sounding crestfallen, “Please.”

“It’s for the best, Tara.” Answers Sam.

She zips her suitcase closed.

“If you leave me again, I can’t promise I’ll let you back in.” Tara says. Her eyes are hard, but her voice shakes.

Sam sighs.

She touches Tara’s shoulders, and then pulls her in for a long hug.

“I’ll be gone a week or two,” She says, “I’m not abandoning you, Tara. We just need some space from each other right now.”

“If you leave,” Tara repeats, “You’re not coming back.”

Sam smiles, a little sad.

“I won’t be gone long.” She says, “God, Tara, I'm just so mad."

She pauses, a moment.

"But I love you. Always."

Tara's face hardens.

And she doesn’t say it back.

Sam leaves.

And you deal with the fallout.

#all hers #qbmd #ghostface!tara #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #scream #scream vi #scream v #tara carpenter x yn #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter imagines #jenna ortega x yn #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #mine #fanfic

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lakesbian · 4 months

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i have had like 10 friends rec worm to me but nobody’s given me a good like, gist of its vibe and what its abt because ‘its best blind’, could u please give a like brief summary and vibe check of it 😭 it’s so long i dont wanna try and invest that much time without knowing much abt it

so, worm is a 1.7 million word long webserial written in 2010. 1.7 million words seems like a lot, but it was also written over a relatively short period of time, which means the writing style is very easy to parse--the ideas aren't without complexity, but the language itself isn't intimidatingly dense. you can get through it at a very decent pace. i agree with your friends that there are vast portions of worm that hit best when you're unspoiled, but the thing is that worm is long enough that giving you the basic plot pitch is in no way spoilers for any of the things that i wouldn't want to see spoiled for someone. i'm actually kind of baffled they're not telling you Any Thing, because it is in my estimation one of the best books i've ever read, but it also Needs a briefing before you get into it for like five different reasons. which i will now provide. i swear to god this is brief by my standards it's just that i am very thorough

worm is a story about superheroes and supervillains, set in a world where superpowers are traumagenic--rather than appearing randomly or innately, some people gain powers after a traumatizing event happens to them. the protagonist is taylor hebert, a 15yo girl who has the power to control insects and desperately wants to be a superhero. and then accidentally finds herself scouted by a team of teenage villains instead. who's to say how she's going to react to all that!

one of the most compelling things about worm is that the superpowers in it serve as visceral, hyper-literal metaphors for the trauma and traumatized coping mechanisms of the characters with those powers. each power is incredibly specific and thematically relevant to the person who has it, and it's incredibly interesting and evocative. it feels so natural and well-done that it comes off like how superpowers are just meant to be written.

the fact that superpowers stem from trauma also means that worm is fundamentally a narrative about trauma. specifically, about traumatized teenagers and the relationships they form as they cling together while struggling through growing up traumatized & mutually coping with an increasingly intriguing, intense, and far-reaching escalating plot. worm's depictions of trauma + mental illness--including unpalatable trauma responses, including traumatized characters who are allowed to be complicated and nuanced and messy while still receiving narrative respect--are deeply real-feeling and impactful, and they're placed in the context of a well-spun + engaging story.

i really do have to stress how excellent the character writing is. worm is fully deserving of being as long as it is. over the course of 1.7 million words of character development, the average reader's reaction to the main characters goes from "sorta interesting" to "okay, i want to see where this goes" to "augh...really likable" to "i am now on hands and knees crying and these characters are going to stick around in my brain forever." wildbow has incredible talent for efficiently conveying complicated, real-feeling, and viscerally evocative characterization. many of the interlude chapters (chapters written from the perspective of different characters other than taylor) are so interesting, fleshed-out, and emotionally affecting that they make you wish you could read an entire novel about just the side character being featured. with that level of characterization for just the side cast, it's not surprising that taylor (& co) are genuinely just downright iconic. and i do not say that lightly--taylor is truly one of the best-written protagonists i've seen in anything. ever.

the other main pitch-point for worm is that it's a fascinating deconstruction/reconstruction/examination of the conceits of the superhero genre. it answers the question of--what would the world have to be like, for people with superpowers to act the way they do in classic cape media? and it does this well enough that it's interesting even if you have only a passing familiarity with cape media. i am not a big superhero media fan, but worm addresses virtually every aspect of cape media that was under the sun around 2010 in a way that's so interesting i still find it incredibly engaging. the approach it takes makes the narrative very accessible even to people who aren't usually cape media fans.

and speaking of the narrative: the end of the story is coherent and satisfying and deeply thematically resonant*. the way worm follows through on all of its main mysteries & plot threads is excellent. you don't have to worry about getting thru 1.7 million words and being dissatisfied by the author shitting the bed at the end, or anything like that. he does an amazing job of weaving together plot events in a way that makes each successive one feel rationally, thematically, and emotionally connected to what came before. there's really only one part where i feel the story stumbles a bit, but i think it was the best option he had for the narrative, and it's by no means a dealbreaker. it's in fact really impressive how cohesive and satisfying worm is for such a long webserial released over such a brief period of time.

*this is subjective ive seen some people who didnt love it but ive never seen anyone who downright Hated it who didnt also demonstrate egregious misunderstanding of literally everything worm is about. so thats a good sign

as for the downsides of worm/things that might put you off:

there is a very long list of trigger warnings for it. if you have any trigger warnings you want you should ask your friends to let you know about the relevant parts, because the fact that it's About Trauma (& about typical cape media circumstances presented very seriously) means that traumatic and violent things & their realistic aftermath are constantly happening and/or being discussed. i would not classify worm as needlessly dark or spiteful to the audience by any means, but it is intense and covers a lot of heavy topics. i do assume if your friends are all recommending it to you, they think none of the material would be too much for you, though!

worm was written in 2010 by a white cishet guy from canada. it's typical levels of 2010-era bigoted, it has a deeply lesbophobic stereotype character, it has some atrociously racist stereotype characters, the author really hates addicts, It's Got Blind Spots. i think worm is generally fully worth reading despite these, but very fair warning that it can get bad. i think what exacerbates this is that worm is generally extremely nuanced & sympathetic regarding ideas such as "crime is a result of systematic circumstance vs people just being inherently evil" and "mentally ill people who are traumatized in unpalatable ways are still deserving of fundamental respect as human beings" and so on and so forth, so it's extra noticeable and insufferable when you get to a topic the author has unexamined biases on and all that nuance drops out. the worst part is that a lot of this is most concentrated in the early arcs, so you have to get through them without being super attached to any of the characters yet. it is worth it though.

worm like. Does have a central straight relationship in it. and it's a very well written straight relationship for the most part and i like it quite a lot. but worm also passes the bechdel test with such flying colors that it enters 'unintentionally homoerotic' territory. which means a lot of people were shipping the main character ms taylor hebert with her female friends while the story was being released. which caused the author to get so mad he 1. posted a word of god to a forum loudly insisting that all of the girls are straight and 2. inserted a few deeply awkward and obvious and out of character scenes where he finds an excuse for the girls to more or less turn to the camera and go "i'm not gay, btw. this is platonic." This is fucking insufferable, and will piss you off immensely, but then you will get to any of the number of deeply emotionally affecting scenes between them, and at that point you will be too busy sniffling piteously and perhaps crytyping an analysis post on tumblr to be mad about all that other shit. also they're only a couple tiny portions out of an entire overall fantastic novel

overall: if those points don't sound like dealbreakers (i hope they aren't they're really massively outstripped by the amount of devastatingly good moments in worm, worm still has a thriving fandom over a decade later for a reason), you should absolutely give it a shot and see what you think. my final note is that you have to read up until the end of arc 8 to really see where what makes worm Worm kicks in, so aim for at least there to see how you feel about it if you're just thinking about dipping your toes in vs fully committing. i hope that was helpful and not too long :)

oh and don't go in the comments section on wordpress if you don't want spoilers. or anywhere else in the fandom at all. you will be spoiled. quite possibly for things you could not even have imagined were topics to be spoiled on.

#ask #wormblr #parahumans #ill tag it to save it so i can reference later. and maybe other people will find it helpful

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mayearies · 9 months

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˚ʚ ©hiimayee ɞ˚

OPEN ARMS? …. miles g. morales ⟡

જ⁀➴ genre : angst | warnings : breakup, no happy ending, lengthy blurb

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ note! : yeah this made me cry if u cry sorrieee

miles knew you too well. you wanted him to choose a new path in life, and he thought different.

you liked to take him out on random dates sometimes. walks around brooklyn, stay up talking, but most of all—convincing him he doesn’t need to do this. he’s heard it a thousand times. he has to.

today was a bad day to catch him. and he would later come to you in the dead of night and find your endless persuasive ramblings being an earworm for him.

“ listen. i get your point, i seriously do. but can you shut up with the prowler shit. for five seconds.”

“ i’m sorry-”

“ i just- i dont wanna talk about it, okay?”

miles wasn’t like this all the time. in fact, he was rather sweet towards you. no matter how annoyed he was, he was usually nice. but he didn’t look recognizable to you anymore. he looked disappointed.

he didn’t hold your hand like he used to when you walked down the street, he was more distant. and you didn’t see him as much anymore.

the ringing of your protests against him were always in his ear, even if you weren’t speaking. thats just what made him more upset. but he didn’t know what to be upset at.

you walked slightly beside him. he would slow down if you trailed too far behind. you didn’t know if you should follow him back home. suddenly, he stopped. “ can i ask you somethin’?”

“ mhm.”

“ do you really think i’m a hero?”

you knew what he had to see. some die, some live, some injured. some of those he had to inflict. but he said he did it for the greater good. for you and brooklyn. “ …i don’t know.”

miles scoffed at your answer, kicking the rocks on the pavement. his sudden change startled you a bit. “ great answer. just absolutely amazing.”

now, there’s one thing here. he can be upset all he wants. but he shouldn’t gain an attitude.

“ you need to chill out-”

“ don’t tell me what to do, [name].”

he doesn’t use your first name a lot. what happened to nicknames? what happened to ‘ma?’ ‘darling?’ ‘amor?’ what happened to those? are they just lost to time now..?

his distance was bothering you. he just wasn’t miles anymore. you don’t know who this is. is this the prowler you’re talking to? you grabbed his wrist making him stumble back. “ i’m worried! i’m worried about you.”

“ well don’t.” snapping at you was something he never did. never once in his life. he would tell you to back off, yeah, but never like that before. “ i’m fine.”

“that’s bullshit!”

he was really trying not to snap at you right now. you were working his last nerve. he doesn’t want to argue. he just wants you to leave it alone and move on. as you always do.

he huffed before relaxing his expression. “ look. just don’t worry about me, alright?” he paused, “ you hear me? just stop.”

you felt unheard. you felt so ignored. " you're a fucking liar! do you expect me not to worry about you when you come to my window at three in the morning? covered in bruises?! is that how you wanna play this out!?"

miles’ expression turned stern. even as he began to shake a little. you couldn’t believe this was miles. “ you think i’m still your sweet boy ?? do you really think that !?"

he looked hurt, he wasn’t happy.

" …i-" you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. he used to be so loving. so caring. it didnt feel like he was here at all. he just felt like a stranger. someone who walked all over your heart.

“ forget it-” silence filled the thick atmosphere again.

“ do you even think im alive, miles?"

miles stopped walking, he looked back quickly. he seemed confused.. and a little hurt. he saw you on the verge of crying. he would always say if he made you cry, he would never forgive himself for that.

" do you think im here? do you think i just-" your voice started breaking, " i just dont ever think about what you're going through? when i clean up your blood from my sheets? do you think i dont care?"

you cant avoid the inevitable, huh? yeah. he thought that too. he knew this would happen. “ because i assure you— i do care. i care more than- more than anyone else! anyone else that you know as a friend. thats why i ask. but you never tell me. never once. i do all of this for you, and i get nothing. miles.”

miles sighed, he had always felt this way—he didn’t deserve you. he knew he didn’t. you? he doesn’t know. it’s just hard for him to show how he really feels sometimes. “ ..please know i care.” he paused, wrapping his arms around you.

“ i really do. i hate to see you so worried about me.. and i hate that i have to put you through that.” he looked down over your shoulder, ashamed.

"then why? why, miles?"

miles paused for a minute, trying to find the right words. “ i have to do it.” he knew those weren’t the words you wanted to hear.

"for what sake!?"

" …i can’t just stand by..” miles sighed, his voice becoming weak. " i can’t."

you cried into his jacket as he rubbed your back. you knew a solution to this. you did, but it wouldn’t be pretty. it wouldn’t be anything considered nice.

pulling away, you stared at you feet. some tears still dripping to the pavement, "… maybe it isnt best… we see each other right now." your breath was shaky, and you could feel his demeanor change. "its just- you have a lot on your plate and… i dont wanna be involved in that."

miles was now silent, there didn’t seem to be anything he could say right now. he felt defeated, like there wasn’t anything he could do to change your mind. “ are you sure?”

you sighed lightly, “ no.”

you knew it had to happen. it was the only way to catch him a break. this was for him, not you. "you cant have it all, miles. i just wish we had better timing… you know?" you were on the verge of crying again.

miles was trying his best to keep you from crying. he knew that. he was lucky enough to even know you. he wish you met somewhere else. some other universe. “ no- please don’t cry. don’t do this to me.." he took his hand to yours, he really didn’t want this to be the last time you talked.

you had to let him go. you had to. it was for the greater good.

miles was still waiting with his hand in yours.. “ please. just tell me your not going to leave. im sorry." he said, he sounded.. really worried. he hated this.

"i just.. feel like i cant love you the same.."

miles had frozen, he didn’t know what to say. he felt like you were leaving forever. tears had started to form in his eyes, he was speechless. those were the words he’s always feared. the one thing he wanted to avoid.

“ please don’t leave me.. it’s just- i dont- i dont know what to do anymore. please. i love you.”

even after everything, you still believed he could figure it out. but you weren’t part of that equation at all. you could see his breath hitching softly as tears stained his face.

you cupped his face and smiled weakly at him. "… meet me in a year. just… find yourself before you find me. can you promise me that?"

your eyes looked pleading and caring. he shakily nodded his head which made you giggle a little. he seemed to have calmed down now, and was prepared for whatever the future has to hold. “ you’re a pretty crier, y’know?”

“ heh,” he sniffled, “ you never fail to make me smile.”

even with all his doubts, he still couldnt grasp how he met someone like you. you were his everything. everything he liked in one. he couldn’t ask for any less.

“i’ll be waiting for you with open arms, mamita.”

and he did. but you never came.

as i said before. you can’t avoid the inevitable, yeah?

afterwards note! : my layout will continue to be inconsistent thanks for asking

#miles morales #miles g morales #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales blurbs #e!42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales earth 42 #miles 42 #42 miles morales #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles angst

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saursoob · 11 months

Text

TOMORROW X TOGETHER - as bf’s

genre: fluff, random bf txt things, bf!txt x reader

yeonjun:

when you and yeonjun go on dates he takes soo many pics of you and the date you’re on! literally 30 million pictures of you he thinks you’re so beautiful he cant help it but if you’re not also doing the same and taking cute pictures of him as well he’ll get all fake upset “hey, i look cute too! take some of me” and he’ll pose all pretty waiting for you to take some of him 😭

if he playfully teases you and you get a little pouty he’ll definitely notice right away and pull you close and say something like “you’re so cute when you pout” and kiss you on your nose or forehead

he shares his food with you 24/7 “my baby always has to get the first bite” & will always ask after if you liked it “is it good my love?” he says it with such cute eyes UGHH he’s so cutie

soobin:

lovess movie nights with you but you especially love when its horror and he tries to act all tough but ends up screaming and hiding in your arms whenever there’s a jump scare and when the the movie ls over he says to you,“honestly that movie wasn’t even that scary” and says it so confidently too 😭

also the way when you make him laugh so hard to the point where he falls on to you laughing and/or shakes you slightly with his hands is literally so adorable + when he laughs his voice slightly squeaks at the ends of them

or the way he gets all flustered when you talk about how he was when you guys first met “you were just so shy soobin i cant help but tease you about it” and he comes up with sooo many excuses waving is hands in the air while a pink hue is tinting his cheeks, “well im just a naturally introverted person!” we all know its because it was love at first sight and that man was already so whipped for u

beomgyu:

loves loves loves being around you hes literally so clingy with you always playing with your fingers or hair he just loves being around you and he feels comforted by just that so cuddling with you is his fav & he absolutely loves when you play with his hair while cuddling especially during loser lover era when his hair was long <3

definitely will apologize first when in a argument but it will take him a while since his mindset is “why do i have to apologize? i didn’t do anything wrong, right?” but he will anyways because he cant stand you being mad at him for long

he loves teasing you but this time when going on a date with you he does it with his looks, tell me why this man pulls up to your date looking so scrumptious in a suit and tie ofc he teases “i look good right babe? i bet you can’t resist me right now” with that smirk of his so true i cant 🧎‍♀️

taehyun:

taehyun doesn’t often show his affection in physical touch but instead buys you “gifts”, it doesn’t matter whether its food delivered to your house after you get home from work because he knows how tired you must be after a long day or something as random as something he picked up for you while shopping that reminded him of you he’s always thinking of u bae

also when you guys go on dates he is not afraid to spend money on you always making sure you get the best, taking you to five star restaurants and such + acts like its no big deal “babe are u alright?” NO IM NOT?? THIS IS SO FANCY? swear wouldn’t even care if one appetizer is 1000+ dollars like what. anything for u he says so 🤷‍♀️

definitely would “make” you go to the gym with him you went willingly to watch him workout okay at first you were gonna actually work out with him but how can you when your boyfriend looks so good lifting weights like that?!?! its actually impossible not to stare at that sight

kai:

kai is such a reassuring boyfriend like any worries you have GO TO HIM!! not to mention so considerate like whenever you vent to him he’ll always ask “babe, do you want comfort or advice right now?” and by the end of it you’ll forget why you were even worried in the first place UGH kai is the definition of perfect bf

yk how protective he is with his plushes with the members? yeah not with you, he will literally let you borrow his fav plush and yes i say borrow because don’t get me wrong he LOVES you but he’s still a little protective with his babys also you guys definitely have matching plushies he bought you two pucca & garu

you two always talk in baby voices with each other def not in a cringe way though, it’s literally just became a normal thing for you two. at first it was to make fun of each other but now its just randomly. for the record though you don’t always respond back all cute 😭😭 “is it good y/nie?~” you give him the biggest side eye “well now im not hungry thanks!” LMFAO you both laugh about it so dw

@saursoob reblogs r okay! please don’t repost

#txt fluff #fluff #kpop #tomorrow x together #ot5 #txt #txt imagines #txt ot5 #txt x reader #txt x y/n #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #huening kai x reader #txt x you #kpop imagines #kpop fics

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babyyweebbitch · 1 year

Text

König headcannons

y’all, imma start writing for Call of Duty now 💃🏾🕺🏾 i’m currently playing both call of duty modern warfare and MW2 so if i get anything wrong i’m sorry i haven’t finished either 😔💔 i’m sorry i’ve barely been active! life is very fucked rn, but onto big boi könig headcannons

there are times he will come home from a mission or something very sore because he gets thrown around/hit a lot, he will go to you for a massage or a warm bath (you both had a large ass tub installed in one of your bathrooms because of how big he is and he can’t fit in a regular sized tub)

if he decides to go outside without you he will have to have something of yours in his pocket like your bracelet or one of your pins just so he’s comfortable. he once had a panic attack in target and you had to drive up there to finish shopping with him at another target because almost all of the shoppers stared and watched instead of help him

he’s the type to kinda just eat the pickles after he said no pickles on his order because he’s afraid of making the workers mad. you always have to go tell the workers yourself and he kinda pleads with you for 5 minutes not to and that he can eat the pickles or take them off.

when he asked you out the first time he was a blushing, shaking mess. you two have been friends since you were kids so you knew how he was and how he didn’t like confrontation at all so you just waited patiently and even told him a few times he can text it to you or something if he couldn’t speak. he eventually got the words out and he was fully expecting you to say no and leave but five years later, you’re still together!

he knows his own strength and being 6’10 and over 230 he’s pretty strong — he once hurt you by accident while playing and he refused to touch you for two weeks, he even hid in the closet for hours after it happened because he was afraid you were mad at him. you explained you weren’t mad at him and that it was just an accident

he speaks to you in german while in public, he only does this when he’s anxious, doesn’t wanna talk to anyone or he just does it for fun

has a bunch of pictures of you in his hidden album so he can look at them while he’s away.

you went to the hospital for about two months for a health issue that needed to be fixed and i swear König was having withdrawals at home without you. he obviously visited you all day but on non visiting days/hours he had withdrawals at home, he hated sleeping in the bed alone and he hated not hearing you somewhere in the house doing something. the house was very silent that two months. when you came back he didn’t leave your side

he likes to mess with you a lot if you’re a lot shorter than him. if you ask him for something he’ll kinds just hold it up in the air out of your reach, but then feels bad after 30 seconds and he stops

he takes Christmas abnormally serious, he decorates the whole house, makes christmas themed things/foods and even gets you both matching ugly sweaters! he got one that said “his elf” “her/his elf” and you both wore it on any gatherings he was willing to go to.

he has lured a cat into the house with cheese three times and now you have three cats — congratulations. he almost did that with a deer but you caught him mid lure and you still him from adopting a deer

has kept the same card you gave him when you were kids, he puts it in his pocket while on any missions so he has something other than pictures to remind him of you and remind him the reason why he’s coming home every time

he secretly likes being little spoon (don’t tell him i told u that)

you’re the only person who has seen his face — not even his closet friends in the military have seen more than his hair and face

he let you wear his gear once and he has millions of pictures of you in his gear because of how big they are on you

he has never wanted to get married before dating you, but now that’s all he can think about, only with you tho! marry him >:(

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #mw2 #könig #könig x reader #könig headcanons #headcannons

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izukuszn · 5 months

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˚₊·➳❥ 𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

➸ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | atsumu miya x reader ➸ 𝐰𝐜 | 1.8k ➸ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 | some cursing, angst to fluff, bestfriend!atsumu but he's in love w u ➸ 𝐚/𝐧 | pls ignore any mistakes!!

➸ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | you and atsumu had an argument. he said some things, and now he's here on your doorstep, ready to apologize.

Atsumu knocks on your door the same way he’s been doing since he met you: tap, taptaptap, tap. With that rhythm, he never even has to announce he’s the one, you already know.

His heart beats fast, threatening to escape his chest. You haven’t talked since your argument a few days ago. He can’t even remember what it was about anymore, just the hurtful things he said to you, the way your face crumpled and tears lined the bottom of your eyes, the intense hatred he felt for himself for being the cause of that look on your face. The crushing emptiness he felt when you shut the door on him as he was standing in this exact spot, staring at your door.

Everything was blurry after that. His actions were automatic, getting into his car and arriving home, sitting with his head leaning against the steering wheel for what he didn’t know was five minutes or two hours. Opening your texts and stringing together a million messages, I’m sorry, Can we please talk? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Only to never send any of them, regret heavy in his chest.

It wasn’t until he showed up at his brother’s restaurant, tears in his eyes, begging him for help, because when it always comes down to it, Osamu, his (younger by one second) twin, is there to help him. ‘Samu played nice for a bit, letting him recount everything that happened, how he was feeling, until he kicked him out on his ass and told him to go apologize instead of whining like a crybaby. Atsumu was a bit peeved, but he followed his brother's advice. And that's what led him here.

He waits, stuffing his hands into his pockets but then pulling them out to twist them together, toeing at the welcome mat the two of you had picked out together on a whim while on a shopping trip. He reads it out loud, as if he hasn’t seen it the million times he’s been here before. “Welcome to the Shitshow”, he murmurs. It was the first one you had seen, and you were sold on it immediately. It makes the ghost of a smile show on his lips until he hears shuffling from behind your door.

When it stops, he looks through the peephole like he would actually be able to see anything from outside, and when that, unsurprisingly, doesn’t work, he places his ear against the barrier, straining to catch the sound of anything to let him know that you were going to open the door. He stands there like a fool for a few seconds, eyebrows furrowing, but then he hears the sounds of the locks clicking and he straightens up. Blowing out a breath, he runs a hand through his hair, brushes off invisible dirt from his pants.

When the door swings open, he panics at the sight of you, heartbeat quickening again. You’re dressed in your lounge clothes, relaxed and casual, and now that there’s no longer an obstruction, he can hear the sound of your favorite movie playing in the background. He hates, it but you’ve always forced him to watch it with you, and he thinks he’s memorized the entire script by now with the amount of times you’ve watched it together. No matter how much he disliked it, he could watch it over and over again as long as it was with you. But now you are watching it without him, and the thought makes his heart hurt.

He gulps, watching you appraise him with one hand on the door, as if you might close it any second. A few moments pass. Atsumu opens and closes his mouth, words failing him, making him angry. He even rehearsed what he was going to say in the car, while face timing his brother, on the way to your door, yet it's all disappeared into nothing when it came down to it. His throat is dry. He thinks wants to cry.

When Atsumu looks at you, he thinks you look tired, moreso than usual, but he thinks you still look as beautiful as ever. He’s always thought you were beautiful, no matter what you were wearing, what you were doing, the face you were making, but he’s never actually told you, unless it was slipped into a joke that caused you not to take him seriously. He wants to tell you, though, every second of the day. Wants to exclaim it for the world to hear. He hopes he gets to, eventually, if he didn’t ruin everything yet.

You sigh, and right when you’re about to say something, Atsumu beats you to it.

“Hi! Uh — hey. Hi,” he stumbles out, words falling on top of each other. He cringes.

You’re unimpressed, giving him a flat look that slowly snuffs out the little hope he had left. “Miya,” you say.

That's the nail in the coffin, he thinks. His face crumbles, but he tries to play it off, forcing a smile that he’s sure looks a bit too wobbly. “It's Miya, now? What happened ta ‘Tsumu?”

You ignore him. “What do you want?”

He hesitates, wondering if he should just walk away now, but he has nothing left to lose. “Can we please talk?” He mumbles.

Your fingers clench on the door, causing it to sway, and just when he thinks you’ll shut it on him, you pull it open wider, allowing him in.

When you turn your back, he releases a breath, cracking his knuckles and nodding to himself. You both end up in the kitchen, you standing on one side of the counter and pouring glasses of water, him standing on the other, watching you work. You slide the glass over, and he grabs it but doesn’t make a move to bring it to his mouth.

“So what do you want to talk about?” You ask. Your tone is clipped. You don’t look him in the eye, no matter how much he tries to meet your gaze. He doesn’t like seeing you like this, without a smile on your face. He hates it even more that he’s the reason.

Steeling himself, he begins. “I want ta apologize,” Atsumu says. His words cause you to briefly glance at him, but then you’re lifting the glass to your lips instead of replying. He gives you a chance to decide if you want to hear him out, or instead kick him to the curb.

The glass hits the counter. You rest your palms on the surface, settling on a nod. “Okay.”

“‘M sorry,” he says. He studies your face carefully. You don’t give anything away as you stare at the counter except for a twitch of your eyebrows, the edges of your lips turning down the smallest amount. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“I was an idiot,” he continues. “I - I dunno why I got so defensive, why I stopped listening ta what ya were tryna say, and instead blew up.” You’re actually looking at him now, but your face is still cold.

His hands pull at his hair. He starts rounding the corner, fingers dragging along the chill of the counter, hoping you’re able to see the sincerity in his face. “I’m really sorry for bein’ a bad friend ta ya,” he concludes.

You stare at him in silence, and he thinks he might be getting to you until you look away. Atsumu panics, opening his mouth to say something else, continue his apology, but then you’re speaking.

“You were a bad friend, ‘Tsumu. You know I didn’t mean to offend you. I really didn’t,” you say, and the way your poker face has dropped, revealing the anxious furrow between your eyebrows that he’s always wanted to smooth out whenever you got it, the downturn of your lips. Your voice is quiet, sad. Your eyes flit between his, and he knows you can see the water that lines the bottom of his lids that he tries to blink away.

“Fuck, I know that now, and I- I really wish I knew in the moment.” He’s in front of you now, a small space left between the two of you. “I was a fuckin’ idiot, as always. I bet ‘Samu’s laughing to himself right now.”

That makes you smile, just the tiniest bit, and he counts it as a win. “You really were.”

He nods, stepping closer. “The biggest idiot in the world, as he would say.”

“The biggest ever.” You agree, but the grin has spread on your lips, the furrow gone. He watches you study him, and he steps forward, hesitating, but then you’re throwing your arms around him, and his snake around your waist, pulling you in.

It always makes his heart melt, turns his stomach into a butterfly field, being this close to you. He holds you, smelling your hair, taking in the heat radiating from your body, the warmth he’s missed with all his soul these last few days. “‘M sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, rubbing your back with his hand the way he knows you like whenever he gives you a hug. “Do ya think ya could ever forgive me?”

You hum, clutching the back of his shirt as you hurry your face into his chest. “Maybe in a few years.”

“How about days?”

“Months.”

“Hours?”

“Don’t push your luck now.”

He laughs, and he feels so happy that he thinks he can fly when your giggle follows.

Pulling away, you look him in the eyes and shake your head at him, pulling a serious face. “The next time you pull that shit I’m never talking to you again, though.”

“Yes, m’am,” he says, and then when you smile, he hugs you again.

Until he remembers the movie. “Wait, ya were watching it without me?!” He exclaims, hands on your shoulders to separate you from him.

Your eyes are wide, a confused look on your face before you realize what he’s talking about. “I thought you hated that movie!”

He folds his arms on his chest, looking away from you and pouting. He knows he’s acting like a child, but he can’t help it. He feels betrayed. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like watching it with you…” He mumbles, voice trailing off.

You’re silent, causing him to look at you in worry, but he quickly diverts his gaze again when he sees the shit-eating grin on your face. “So you do enjoy watching it! I knew it!”

“Thats not what I said!”

“Awwwwwww, ‘Tsumuuuu.”

“Shaddapppp.”

(But when you’re settled together on the couch with the movie playing on the TV, popcorn between the two of you, Atsumu knows that he could do this a hundred times over as long as its with you. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud, though.)

#- atsumu #- noelle writes #- hq #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu x reader #- atsumu fic #- fics

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duyxjpg · 2 months

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Text messages between you & your f1 besties pt. 4

Summary: Just random dialogues between you & your f1 besties + your crush. Friends in question: Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris & Max Verstappen Note: Eventually the boys will take the matters in their own hands since it hurts physically to watch you (be so chaotic). Part 4 of the non ending saga is ready ofc with more chaotic Y/N content + bonus part.

Y/N always fake flirting with Charles just to annoy him. It always works..

Lando receiving his daily dose of headache at 01:34 AM as usual nothing new really..

Gossip girls are just dirty minded. Nothing wrong with Y/N and Maxie at all?!

You believe me when I say Charles is sometimes done with Y/N? Unbelievable but true.

Y/N being Y/N

What do you mean you see someone Bob? You gotta be more specific about it!!

Nothing just Y/N flirting with her babygirl Max.

Tf you mean you don't love Y/N more than Carlos? Is that even possible?

Next target 👉🏼 Christian Horner ✔️shit happens - check

Steiner just don't know yet what he is getting himself into. Y/N is not the one to take a hint and get out of trouble. Hard to believe that Y/N is a troublemaker right?

****************************************************

B o n u s :

random short insight into Y/N life with the boys:

„You are not going to do no such thing!” Y/N protested stamping her feet like a toddler, standing in the middle of the gaming hall.

“Why not? You like him, don’t you?” Charles grinned at Y/N widely. Y/N wanted to punch that smug grin off his pretty face. Y/N wanted to escape this very situation she was forced to be in, well sort of, so badly.

“Don’t grin like the cheshire cat and stop talking nonsense. How dare you?!” Y/N smacked Charles arm. Charles rubbed his arm while trying not to burst laughing. She looked around. Nervosity took over Y/Ns every single cell. Y/N could not believe that her so called friends made plans with the most handsome and perfect f1 driver on the grid at a gaming hall and did not tell her. Out of million places, the gossip girls choose violence and took her to the gaming hall. Y/N was competitive af and hated losing. The last time she went to a gaming hall Y/N had entry ban for three months.

As Y/N wanted to protest again Lando and Max did their entry. Lando was smiling from ear to ear. What a dumb man Y/N thought, trying the urge to roll her eyes. As for Max, he had his nonchalant way of looking. Casually dressed, his hands in his pockets and smiling at Y/N. What a man Y/N thought. Her "I have a crush on Max Verstappen" vibe was visible from the moon. Awkwardly greeting both of the drivers Y/N wanted to run away. She could feel the elephant in her stomach, yes elephants no butterflies, period.

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

“Y/N please calm down!” Lando laughed at Y/N. Y/N was horrible at racing games and currently she was losing miserably.

“I hate you all, how is this even a fair game? Racing with f1 drivers? What a fugging joke.” Y/N protested for the 100x time in the last five passing minutes.

“Since when do you care about fair play?” Charles mocked Y/N. Since I am terribly losing Y/N thought. She pointed Charles her favourite finger.

“Remember when you cold heartedly with a total serious expression explained me the rules to that one game wrongly so you could win?” Lando questioned with a fake disappointed look in his face.

“You did not!” Max laughed out loud. Laugh again you loser Y/N thought. It sounded like music in Y/N ears. What a beautiful man Y/N thought.

“It’s not my fault, it’s your own stupidity.” Y/N shrug and showed Lando her tongue. Y/N could see from the corner of her eye that Max was smiling while shaking his head. So pretty Y/N thought.

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

“I knew that Y/N would find a way to get her ass kicked out again!” Charles laughed.

“Disappointed but not surprised…” Lando added shaking his head.

“I still don’t know how she managed to punch a hole into the fucking wall!” Max questioned with a slight surprise in his voice.

"It was an "inchident." Y/N replied. Gaining a burst of laughter from Lando, a death glare from Charles and a grin from Max.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

****************************************************

Writers note: I didn't want to let you wait for too long + I thought it would be fun to show short parts of Y/Ns life with the boys. What you do you think about it? Would you like it or no?

#f1 #f1 x reader #max verstappen #charles leclerc #lando norris #max verstappen scenarios #max verstappen scenario #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc scenarios #charles leclerc scenario #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris scenarios #lando norris scenario #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines

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autisticlancemcclain · 9 months

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fic rec friday 38

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

only the dead have seen the end of war by @kartoffxl [MCD]

Lance must have seen something in Keith’s face, because his expression crumpled in anguish. “You… You love me back.” He put his head in his hands. “Oh my god. You loved me. You love me. This—This is so fucked up.” “Lance, I—” “Tell me I’m wrong.” There were tears in his eyes. “Tell me we didn’t just waste all those years being cowards.” Keith clenched his fists at his sides, still reeling from the whiplash of what he had just heard earlier. This can’t be happening. “Say it!” Lance pressed. “Say you don’t love me.” Please, his eyes begged. Keith and Lance finally figure out that they’re absolutely, undeniably, embarrassingly in love with each other, just not exactly in the best of circumstances.

okay so. this is. technically. one of the meaner fics im reccing. HOWEVER. it is gaspingly unbelievably beautifully and painfully written. even the summary kills me -- say you dont love me. im begging you. im begging you to lie to me right now. as we lay dying im begging you to have mercy on me and let me believe i didnt have a chance for beauty with you. im begging you to let me die with one regret instead of millions. please. please dont let me die being loved by you. LIKE WHAT

2. Toast to Freedom by @icypantherwrites

Keith is used to more than his fair share of dark looks. What he’s not used to is seeing those looks directed at Lance for no reason that he can determine and it’s making something uneasy settle in his stomach and the heavy press of the mantle of leader weigh even heavier as he should be doing something about it but he doesn’t know what. But causing a scene will upset the alliance they need and so Keith chooses to wait it out, to address it after the feast. He should never have waited.

will never ever in my life get over to 'i drank your poison because no suffering would be worse than watching it on you' not ever. it is always so so everything. and NO ONE does it like icy panther

3. Disjointed Soul by @icypantherwrites

Lance falls victim to a Soul Leecher, a dark spirit that is drawn to disjointed souls to steal them for itself. The Paladins must go into Lance's very soul to save him, uncovering truths about themselves and Lance in the process. Time is of the essence before Lance is lost forever. Good thing they have such helpful, adorable soul guides.

"Hi there baby Lance," Hunk greeted. "Ohwah," Lance burbled back. "¡Ohwah!" "Ohwah?" Pidge repeated. "I think he's saying "hola,'" Hunk grinned. "You know, "hello" in Spanish. Hola, baby Lance." "¡Ohwah! ¡Ohwah!"

this is one of THEEEE original insecure lance fics fr like it was the BLUEPRINT. 2018 there wasnt a langst loving soul who hadnt read this at least twice. its not too long for my dears w shoddy attention spans but its long enough to have quite a bit of substance!! team as family with communication and lance at the centre of it. what more do u want

4. Sleep Well, My Son by @icypantherwrites

A tiny accident becomes literal when Lance is turned into a child with no recollection from his older self. Coran has hopes the effects will be relatively short-term, but in the meantime he has a scared child that needs both reassurance and care. And while Coran might not have had the chance to be a father… he feels like one now.

look i love a good de aged lance fic and obviously when i was making these bookmarks i was scrolling my way thru the tag. and this one is especially amazing bc it is coran centred! this is a coran fic! this is a fic about quiet grief in the life you never got to live and acceptance for the life you have now and love for the people life has brought you!! it is about coran finding family through people who so desperately need it!! it is everything!!

5. Amigos by @icypantherwrites

A dangerous mission becomes even moreso when Lance is turned into a child with no recollection of his older self in the middle of it. Keith has never been good with kids and that certainly isn’t going to change now. Somehow though he’s got to convince Lance — who doesn’t speak a word of English and is staring at Keith with too wide, too scared of eyes — to come with him, get them both out of the Galran base now crawling with sentries alive, and then, assuming they get that far, figure out how to change Lance back.

shut up about the repeated author shut up about the same trope shut up about the. okay. i am a simple creature. i am annoying. i like to sit on my little armchair and open my little phone and read the same thing a million times. there is a Way to read fic and that way is to click on and scroll through a tag until you find a fic you like then scroll through that author and then go back to the tag and rinse and repeat. besides this fic is amazing okay i love klance but we rarely get platonic klance and its GOOD okay

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

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dwindlinghaze · 1 year

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I need peter fluff. like i need reader to be having a bad day and lashing out at peter and him not getting mad and just comforting her<3

best

(peter parker x reader)

contents: fluff, unintentionally mean reader, peter just being really kind and hearted.

a/n: oh how i miss writing for him :( hope u enjoyed this anon!! tysm for requesting 🫧🫧🤍

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

everyone has bad days. awful, exhausting, horrible days. sometimes they have a way to cope with it too. you tried though. tried to keep the boiling emotions under your ribcage, trying so hard not to let your bad mood ruins your boyfriend's beautiful day.

peter was the best. he was the best to you. but right now, just the mere shuffles of his legs sends distress through your veins.

trying to keep your calm, you drank you water. gulping it loudly with a sour face in hopes of him understanding what you're trying to imply.

he didn't look up from his magazines. the pages turned along with an ear scratching sound.

"ow, i just gave myself a paper cut!" peter shrieked, holding his index finger in front of his face and yours.

"you're not five, it'll heal," you huffed. in usual days, you would help him even with the smallest things.

"what's wrong?"

"nothing's wrong! you just got a paper cut wow big deal. the world has fallen off its axis and we're spinning in the opposite direction!"

"love-"

"no stop! that co-worker at my workplace took a day off this week so i had to replace her for seven days, meaning that i have to work double while still having the same paycheque as the others. eloise kept asking me about the presentation that we're going to have on monday even though i've said it more than a million times that i will finish it before friday. and the thing is, she is not helping me with it! my professor just assigned two more additional assignments for me this week. my shoes got dirt on the mud. i dropped our matching bracelets on the gutter because some kids were running around. wendy asked me to order pizza for the both of us while i was catching up on my work. i ordered it and when i finished, i came outside to only see that she left nothing for me. absolutely nothing, not even a crumb! a paper cut is the least harmful thing right now. i'd trade all of this for a paper cut, stop whining about your microscopic problem."

you were now crying, the weight of this crushing your spine and shoulders. peter was there. of course he is.

he caressed your arms, massaging them slowly as he let you cry, gently bringing your head to his shoulder.

"hey," he whispered, "i'll help you with everything okay. only if you let me."

"i can't. all of that is my responsibility. i'm not going to pass on a weight to you."

"we're together for a reason. whatever you're feeling, i feel them too. whatever's weighing you down, i'll come and help lighten them up."

"sorry for lashing on you," you sniffed, looking at him wistfully.

"no no. you really needed that right? i know," he spoke as he kissed your nose softly. "i can't really help you with your job but i'm going to help you make the presentation, and i'll do the assignment for you, i can get you new shoes or clean them up, i'll get us new matching bracelets, i'll order us both pizzas and i won't eat them all."

"pete, no you can't-"

"remember what i said? if something's weighing you down, i'm here to lighten them up," he gave you the loveliest smile the world has ever known.

"thank you, love. i'm so sorry, let me put a bandaid on your finger, come!" you stood up.

"it'll heal," he laughed.

"i just want to help you back as a way to thank you," you smiled.

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #peter parker and reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #anon request #thanks anon!

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gadriezmannsgirl · 10 months

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Can u do a pedri angst where him and reader finally make it official after months of him chasing after her but the next day the paparazzi find him getting cozy with a girl qnd its all over the media and she feels embarrassed but he doesnt think its a big deal so they get into a fight but make up in the end

I had this already done and then guess what...? I saw the same req but with Gavi🥴 Please, I don't really know how many times I've said it but don't request the exact same thing to other writers. I had this made before I saw it with Gavi so...🥴 Please, tell me what you think of this, I truly hope you like it!

Wrong Move -P.G8

Summary: He doesn't see what's wrong but you do

You remember the excitement on Pedro's face when you told him that you were finally agreeing to go on a date with him after five months of him trying. He went all in towards you and hugged you against him for a whole five minutes murmuring a few thank you's and a few you won't regret it's.

And it's not like you weren't interested in him, because you were; but, he was a famous football player and you were a simple univeristy student who works her ass off to pay for her university and bills. His busy and flashy life didn't contrasted a single bit with your boring and stressing studing one.

You were also scared of the media breaking into your private life and not to mentions his fans that could break you in millions of pieces with three words and also he had a reputation often being connected with random girls with the context of a hookup, he saying that he didn't looked for a serious relationship made you hesitate about him but Pedri reassured you and show you that, that was past, that he truly saw himself in a long run with you and that you'll be more than a random hookup.

He worked hard for you to believe him and he show you he really meant it.

That's why you gave him a chance and after eight months together as girlfriend and boyfriend and one month out in the public eye, you felt for the first time ever doubtful of everything he had said to you.

Pedro had asked if you wanted to join him, Fer, Adrián and their girlfriends on a night out since it was Adrian girlfriend's birthday and as much as you wanted to, you couldn't because you had to submitt a twenty-five pages essay in fours hours and you were barely at the fifteen page.

"Don't overwork yourself, amor, please" Pedro had said grabbing his keys "Te quiero, sé que podrás hacerlo, bonita" (I love you, I know you can do it) He smiled as you kissed him goodbye

"Te escribo al terminar, diviértete pero no mucho" (I'll text you whenever I'm done with it, have fun but not that much) You smiled fixing the neck of his polo as he pulled you closer to him by the waist kissing your lips once more

"I could never, not if you're not with me" He said against your lips before pecking them twice

"Anda, lindo. Te quiero" (Go pretty boy. Love you)

"Yo más, regreso más tarde" (Love you more, I'll be back later)

Two hours later, you got some weird inspiration and managed to finish your essay, you texted Pedro with the image of your submitted work and a lil "🎉😌 Did it!" To which he replied with a heart eyes emoji and "My smart girl" as you smile and got ready to have some dinner and shower.

Four hours later, you were sat on your couch with your chest tightening and watching the video of Pedri with a girl all over him, they were sit in some couch but this girl had her whole front pressed up against his side, her arms linked with his and they were talking.

The video showed him looking at her and sometimes nodding or shaking his head speaking with a smile but she was laughing, throwing her head back, pushing her hair out of her shoulder, the video ended with Pedro getting up and she following him.

Underneath, the comments were all of them disappointed on Pedro and supporting you but it didn't mattered to you.

What mattered is that how you were feeling, you were embarrassed, everyone was talking about how you were "The one who got cheated on", you wanted to cry and deeply wanted to know what is going on, on Pedro's head. You wanted him to tell you what did you just saw and the why behind his actions.

Ten minutes later approximately, you heard the front door being opened, soon your heard him taking off his shoes and then leaving his keys on the holder you guys have. Seconds later, you saw his figure greeting you in your living room.

"How did you passed from thirteen to almost thirty pages of content in two hours? Was I distracting you?" He laughed lightly coming over to you but his comment didn't changed your facial expressions, he didn't noticed them "I'm truly happy for you, bonita. However, don't let an assigment that long get up to you at last minute ever again. I don't want to see you that stressed out again, you were gonna pass out and I would have done it too 'cus-" You interrupted him showing him the video

"What's this and who's that girl?" Your questions sounded defensive and catched Pedro out of guard.

"¿Disculpa?" (Sorry?)

"Who's that girl? And what is this thing that's happening on the video?"

"She's just one of Ferran's friends"

"And are Ferran's friends allowed to link their arms through yours, push themselves against you and basically hint that they want you to... You know?"

"She wasn't hinting anything"

"You are right. She wasn't hinting, she was showing you. She was openly flirting with you and you weren't doing anything to stop it"

"You're overreacting this"

"Am I?" You stood up shaking your head in disbelief "If I am, then why millions of people are agreeing with me too? I'm not the only one. People are thinking you cheated on me with this girl"

"And you believe them?"

"I don't... But should I? You were incredibly cosy with letting her rest her front against your fucking arm over and over again. You were laughing, shaking and nodding your head at her words without pushing her away or letting her know you had someone waiting for you at home"

"Had?" He asked eyes wide open as you closed your mouth "You're just being jealous. I wasn't flirting with her and I definitely couldn't care any less if she had another intentions with me because I am that crazy in love with you, I am freaking greatful and satisfied for what I have at home that I don't need to see anything or anyone on the sidelines"

"Really? You have such a weird way to show that"

"Y/N..."

"I'm tired, Pedri. We can talk it later, I'm not in the mood to hear or see you anymore" You sighed shaking your head, you grabbed your phone and passed by him going to your shared bedroom "I definitely didn't think this could happen to us"

He heard it.

"Nothing has happen to us! You're overreacting!" He yelled pushing his head up so he can see you

"Would you think I'm overreacting if tables were turned around? Would you think it's okay if I go to some other man and flirt and link my arm through his and push myself onto him? Would you accept, me looking into your eyes and tell you: "I wasn't flirting with him"? Wouldn't you feel down knowing a millions of people have seen it and are letting you look like you were cheated on? Wouldn't you feel embarrassed? Are you sure you wouldn't? Because if you wouldn't then yes... I'm overreacting" You said looking into his eyes "Accept it, you fucked it up when you let her get that close to you"

"So this is it?"

"I don't even want to know if this is it or if it isn't. You can make your own assumptions and you can let me known them with another video if you like, I'll be in the guest room. I'm done. Night, Pedri"

And with that you were gone as he stood there looking up at where you were standing. He took his phone and got inside Twitter, the video was the first thing loading into his homepage.

He gulped watching it, it really could be misinterpreted but he wasn't doing anything with other intentions. He loves you with his whole life. It can be said that he loves you even more than he loves football, you came into his life unexpectedly and turned it around 360°.

He didn't see girls who weren't you with other eyes, he even stopped receiving fangirls numbers to prove you he is serious with you and to let you know how much he respects you.

"Why didn't I pushed her away?" He questioned himself

She was funny and he did liked her, as a friend, she lets herself be liked and gets into the group fast but in his mind and heart you were the only one.

You are the only one and he did the wrong move. His efforts that once were high now laid at 0 and he did understand your point of view now.

Frustrated with himself he got out of the app and his eyes connected with his home lockscreen. You and him kissing each other in a beach during you vacations in Canarias, the beauty of the photo is the love you two have for each other and the kiss that was interrupted by smiles on both of your faces.

He has to make it up to you.

Picking up said photo, he captured it with: Mi única chica, te amo💜 hoy y siempre♾️. (My one and only, I love you. Today and always) He turned off the comments for everyone except for you and headed up to the guest room.

He had to be careful with his words and explain himself as much as he could. Your eyes were closed but your cheeks had tear marks, you were awake just ignoring his presence. He sighed and crunched down to be in front of you.

"Que soy un idiota" (I'm an idiot) He began "I swear to everything I own and to everyone I love that I truly don't care about her, I talked to her and tried to be just her friend, she's nice and she may had wanted something with me but the only one I want, the only attention I want, the only girl I will care about the most, the only girl I will flirt back with, the only girl I fall in love with, the only one who I make fool with, my only one everything is you" He reached out to push your hair out of your face and when he saw you didn't reacted back to it, he let his palm lay softly on your cheek carressing it with his thumb.

"I'm sorry, mi vida. I really don't know why I didn't pushed her back, I should have because I'm a taken man but I guess she's new over here and we just wanted her to be comfortable with us"

"But not that comfortable" You said as Pedri smiled

"I know, she crossed a line" You open your eyes and looked at Pedri "I'm sorry" You shook your head smiling lightly "And you didn't overreacted, I would've done the exact same thing if tables were turned around. I'm truly sorry, mi vida"

"Don't do it again, Pedri"

"Pedro"

"Pedri"

"Pedro"

"Pedri"

"You only call me Pedri when you're mad!"

"I still am!"

"What can I do for that bad feeling to go away?"

"Cuddle me, love me, give me some ice cream and never do it again?"

"I can do all four and mostly the second one" You smiled and lifted the blanket for him to step inside. He smiled taking off his hoodie and joggers being left in his boxers and wrapped his arms around you.

He pushed his head down and searched for your lips, kissing you softly and slow "Te amo" He breathed out

"Te amo, mi niño lindo" You whispered back as he pressed you further into him. You guys got comfy and after a few minutes Pedro gasped "What's wrong?"

"The ice cream" He turned you around and got out of your hold

"Pedro, no! Come back here! Ice cream can wait!"

"I know how that goes! Ice cream CANNOT wait!" You smiled widely falling back into the pillows.

He may did a wrong move but he always knew how to fix it.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

#M. is writing #pedri gonzález #pedri #fc barça #pedri x reader #pedri gonzález x reader #pedri angst #pedri blurb #pedri gonzalez imagine

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joviepog · 10 months

Note

HIII!!!

since u needed requests, im at your service o7

wilbur soot x fem!reader with a love or host and y/n wins and ends up picking love 🫶

love you !! <3 /p

Thanks for the request @lanaxoxoxoxoxox! Thank you for your service! XD

—ᰔ—ᰔ—ᰔ—ᰔ—ᰔ—ᰔ—ᰔ—

Love or host

Who: Wilbur x reader

Warnings: Cursing

Pronouns: They / them

Requests: @lanaxoxoxoxoxox

Word count: 1,279 words!

Anything else: God this was harder to make than i thought but oh well! Its out and ready to read! Hope yo enjoy the end result! :D

This story is NOT proofread

“Ten of the most b-beautiful women! Out of millions,” he pauses, “millions of submissions that we had to comb through to be able to find ten perfect ladies that could be for you!” Rajj says excitedly. You giggle a bit but he continues. “Are you excited about it or are you nervous?” He says and you could practically see the cheeky grin on his face. Then you hear the voice you were waiting for. You could hear them and they couldn’t hear you. And you took advantage of this. You gasped silently as you heard his lovely British accent. You felt like such a simp. “I’m both Rajj. I sometimes get the two confused. I feel like I might pass out on this stream. Is that alright with you?” You swoon over his voice and when Rajj speaks you blink out of your thoughts. “Look if you do.. Wilbur if you do pass out...” You look at Wilbur’s screen and he has a goofy smile on his face. “It has never happened before but if you do t-that’s perfectly fine.”

You laugh and you see some others girls do as well. You scan them and realize they are all much more dressed up than you are. You just have plain mascara and a small bit of eyeliner. Everyone else has their hair curled or straighten and your’s s just how it ended up looking after your shower. You look down at your casual often and blush out of embarrassment. You were so underdressed. You hadn’t thought that everyone else would dress up like so nicely… It’s alright though, if he doesn’t pick you for your looks then he shouldn’t pick you at all. Still, you fixed your hair.

“Hi! I’m Wilbur.” You all collectively said hi and he continued, “I’m from London. I play a lot of Minecraft. I do a lot of music. I do a lot of YouTube. I do a lot of streaming.. and uh- that’s pretty much it. Oh. And I’m here with you and Rajj.” He gives a goofy grin and everyone laughs at his awkwardness. “I’m 6 foot five! I don’t know what I weigh.” Wait how tall? Almost instantly someone asked the same thing you were thinking, “Are we still on the same page with the fucking height? What five feet?”

“Yeah..” you said quickly. “Is there something is the room that I can compare myself to?”

“YEAH THE DOOR!” You said quickly as you pointed towards your screen. Wilbur’s eyes widened at your enthusiasm and everyone backed you up. “That’s not a door that’s a big wardrobe.” You laughed and he took off his headphones. He walked up towards the wardrobe and you all gasped as you looked at his height. When he sat back down and Kadyland started to speak. You smiled and you listened to her speak. But what you didn’t know is that Wilbur was staring at your screen the whole time. Listening, but still staring at you. He knew from the moment he saw you that he would pick you. But of course, he would still have to play along.

Kandyland soon finished at wilbur asked, “What’s fourth base?” And you laughed at that comment. Then Niki went, then Bafy went, then Bridgett, then Novur, then Minx, then Sereda, then Ali, then you. You freaked out a bit but you spoke with full confidence. “Hi wilbur my name is U/n.” “Hi U/n” he said quickly before you continued t explain yourself.

“Chat throughout the course of this stream I am actually going to be training wilbur to talk to women since it is his first time. “Aweee.” Came from everyone’s mic and you scoffed, but still smiled. “Yeah I’m actually shaking a bit Rajj.” Then there was a bunch of feedback from the girls and you laughed.“Please don’t give me sympathy it just makes it worse.” This made you burst into laughter and wilbur laughed too.

Then, it was time for the first elimination. Serena was the one who ended up going, and she chose host. Then there was another elimanition, then another then another. Till it was just you and niki. It was time for the one on one date and you couldn’t help but blush a bit. “Who wants to go first?” Asked rajj. You all sat in silence for a moment before niki went.

You talked to rajj for a good moment and then they came back. It was your turn.

“Hi wilbur!” He let out a small chuckle, “Hi. How’s it going?” You gave him a soft smile and that made him melt. As kind as Niki might be her kindness could never compare to your smile. “It going good! How are you Wilbur?” You asked, very genuine. “I- I’m good. I’m just on a dating show right now.” You let out a small giggle “How’s that going?” You said with a smile. “I’m going to tell you something U/n its fucking hard!” You both laughed, “Did it turn out the way you wanted it?”

He stared at his monitor for a moment, trying to make eye contact with you, “I guess we’ll have to see huh?” You stared at his screen and blushed widely but you quickly changed the subject., he laughed at your reaction. “Oh shut it Wil.” He continued to laugh, “So what’s your favorite drink.” He thought for a moment before coming to a conclusion, “Water.” “Water?” You said softly. “Not a lot of people say that.” He smiled, “Oh I know.” There was an awkward silence and you spoke again. “Wilbur?” “Mm?” “Why are you so perfect?”

The timer went off and you blushed at your fowardness. Wilbur’s eyes were wide and you swear you could see a hint of red. “So how do you guys think you did.” “I think it went lovely.” You said with an innocent smile, “I think it went w-well… we found something in common so that was nice.” Niki spoke up and you smiled at her response. She was such a lovely person, you wouldn’t be surprised if she won, she was amazing after all.

Niki started to compliment you and you started to get flustered, she was proving your point. “Same to you Niki!” You said cheerfully. “You’re a lovely person. I know you’ll definitely win!” Then, wilbur came back and you all perked your heads. Rajj was the first to speak, “Whoo! That was the nicest waiting period ever!” Wilbur laughed at this. “Yeah?” He laughed awkwardly, “I feel awful! Very uncomfortable uh..” he laughed.

“The winner of the Rajj(something something)… Is…” here it was. The moment that Niki was getting chosen. You felt your heart break slightly but you kept your smile on. There was a long pause before Rajj spoke again, “U/N!!!” You eyes widened and there was a fake clapping audio heard in the call. Niki cheered for you and you yelled, “Yeah lets go!!!” You giggled and wilbur looked at your screen with a small smile. After a few seconds the cheering was stopped by Rajj. “Don’t start cheering yet. We need to find out if she picked Love or Host.” There was silence in the call and Wilbur prayed you picked love. You already knew what you picked. A smile formed on your face. “They picked….” Silence.

“Love! They picked love Wilbur!” You smiled and opened your arms wide in victory. The chat was going wild and wilbur smiled brightly. The thing soon ended and you and wilbur exchanged numbers. Soon, you two became friends practically fell in love. You were in love.

I’m not sure how much i liked how this turned out but oh well! Enjoy! :D

The video i used. <- Click here!

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