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#you feel this impossible weight to pay everything back
mattyknees · 7 months
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saw a stupid fucking post about how auston doesn't deserve the attention he gets and he doesn't deserve consideration for the C because of how little time he spends with the rest of the team during the off season
would love to remind people white leafs fans how important family is to latinos and how little time he got to spend with his family in the year leading up to the 2016 draft and him moving to toronto
would love to remind y'all to shut the fuck up maybe and think before you speak about a healthy work-life balance and consider that maybe family is actually important to some people people and while his coworkers are definitely his found family, his blood family is important too and some of us actually have healthy and loving and beautiful relationships with the people we're related to
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erwinsvow · 1 month
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my heart swells at the thought of shy!reader kinda being overstimulated emotionally during rough sex with rafe and so she’s in doggy but reaches to hold his hand just to feel some affection from him☹️
this actually made me bark
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when you could keep your eyes open, you were staring at the wood of rafe's headboard, watching the way it was slamming against the wall and the repetitive thudding that filled your ears. if rafe wasn't fucking you so hard that you were close to losing your mind, you'd be worried someone in the house can hear the two of you.
your mind, always overactive even in times like this, wanders. first you allow yourself to get a little concerned someone can hear you, so you get quieter, shoving your head into rafe's pillow to muffle the moans leaving your mouth. then you worry someone can hear the headboard, the slap of skin on skin.
even when the pleasure is so overwhelming, building up tense and low in your stomach, entire body feeling like it's aflame when rafe grips your hips and slaps your ass in between thrusts, you still feel your mind wandering, slipping further and further away.
you want it to shut up, so you close your eyes, head resting on rafe's pillow again. you try to focus on your boyfriend's groans, the way the noises coming from him make your toes curl and a fuzzy feeling overtake your brain.
"yeah, fuck, kid, keep takin' it-"
he's saying something, and you stupidly wonder if he's been talking to you this whole time. you'd been too busy thinking about nothing to realize. you tune in, realizing what rafe's saying is a little bit of the opposite of what you usually hear from him.
you turn your head a little, opening your eyes to look back at rafe. he's still slamming in and out, his eyes focused on where the two of you are connected. rafe's always handsome, almost overwhelmingly so, but especially like this, when he's so focused on pleasure he's not as mindful of what he's saying.
"y'like that, huh? yeah, you wanna watch? like the little slut you are?"
"oh-"
it comes out low and quiet, a little sound that lets him know you're paying attention. if possible, his grip on your hips gets harder, fingers digging into the plush of your ass while he pushes down on your arch, increasing his pace. it's too fast now, too full and the stretch too much. you squeal into the pillow, eyes getting crossed while rafe's words ring around your head.
"fuck, good girl. my good little whore, aren't you?"
"um-" he keeps going, and you don't want him to stop. you try to shift around but he's holding you so hard moving feels impossible, so you settle for what you can move, lifting your arm to rest on your back, hand reaching out for him. "rafe, hand, please-"
you can't see his face, but you feel the weight of his hand on yours, before he pulls out and flips you over. you fall onto your back with a quiet yelp.
"you okay?" he asks, hovering over you. you feel empty, feel your pussy clench around nothing. then you feel bad—you hadn't meant to make him stop.
"s-sorry, rafe, i didn't mean stop, i just wanted to feel close to you-"
"was inside you. what'd you mean closer? you okay?" he repeats, and you feel your face flush, everything going warm.
"yes, yes. i'm fine."
"you sure?" you nod, looking up at your boyfriend. he moves your legs while you lay back, lifting them with his arms and lining himself up. and then he puts his palm flat on yours, fingers interlacing while he pushes inside. he fucks you like that—both your hands holding his, slowly and somehow still rougher than before, and even after both of you finish, he doesn't let go. you fall asleep with fingers intertwined with his.
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diorcities · 9 months
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⠀   ⠀ ── 𖥻 ๋ 𓈒 ⭐ ࣪ ࣭ ◍ ᜔ being a sleepy head !
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nct dream fluff headcanon.
jaemin. at midnight, the sheets tangle on your limbs as his fingers run down your spine in a deliberate gesture. your tongue tangles in your palate and feels heavy as you talk about trivial things while he listens patiently. smiling sweetly when you can't follow the thread of your thoughts at the speed you desire, and your eyes look one last glimpse into his loving eyes before plunging you into a deep sleep. your body is covered by a blanket and you barely hear his voice saying “let's meet again in your dreams.” warming the place where your heart rests.
haechan. he is a night person. even with his schedules, he usually has more sleep resistance than you. you've both put on a series that you've been wanting to watch together, and since I this moments don't happen very often, you plan to spend the whole day curled up next to him. his body is so warm, and his grip comforting, that you soon decide to leave him to go to the ethereal world of dreams. and among the semi-unconsciousness, you think you feel his laugh poking you, “unbelievable, why you choose that boring movie if you were going to fall asleep?” just feeling your body being gently drawn to his “i'll tell you how the movie ends in the morning.”
jisung. the different time zones had your internal clock pretty damaged and crazy, to the point where you slept all afternoon and were more than awake at night. therefore, your night endurance is greater than jisung's. even on his day off, the poor boy does nothing but sleep. silence settles in the room when you know he's not listening to you anymore, hearing to the slight snoring of the boy with the cold nose on your neck, feeling him stir between dreams, “oh- fuck,” he murmurs, nuzzling his face, “did i fall asleep?” he asks. “pretty much, yeah.” you hear his muffled laugh, but deep down it makes you happy that he rests properly, especially when you know his workday. his only response is get closer to you. “keep talking, i swear i won't fall asleep this time.” quick spoiler: he did.
mark. it is a habit to put on a film and not pay attention to it while talking and using it as background noise. both of you have fairly tight schedules, and believe it is possible to do everything at the same time, such as ordering food delivery and chatting while watching a movie. but honestly, you are so exhausted, that the film takes a back seat while you both have your intimate moment full of kisses and caresses. it's impossible not to fall asleep for both of you. and even in the limbo of dreams, you're there with him, and he's talking to you while he sleeps, “i love you.”
renjun. he does not usually rest for long, and many times (only when you are aware that he is not by your side sleeping) you see him at his desk writing new entries in his diary, or painting with his watercolors. you are aware, too, that he does that when he is very overwhelmed or overloaded with things. and even when he goes back to bed the moment you notice his absence and wake up, or call his name, you worry that he's keeping him hidden from you; the way he uses art to release all the weight that keep him awake. “you scared me,” he pronounces shyly when you approach him and rest your head on his shoulder, “i woke you up? forgive me...” he stops his word when you shake your head, “should we go to bed, then?” he wonders, but again, you deny. “finish this first, love.” you smile tenderly, snuggling into him as he returns to his drawing: somewhat kind of similar to you.
chenle. having a tight schedule makes it difficult to see chenle often. you never seem to coincide because you leave first thing in the morning and when you arrive exhausted to sleep, chenle returns until late at night. he scolds you on occasion when you insist on staying up even when you both know that means you'll feel sleepy at work. in the end, he lets you do what you want, because deep down, he misses your long chats before going to bed. “so... one of my... coworkers said...” your eyelids close on their own, you swear by your life. and your tongue feels so heavy, but you must keep going, because seriously, seriously it's funny, “have you- seen my... sandwich?... and i said..., it's in...” chenle waits for the punchline while he strokes your hair, but it never comes, so with a amused smile dancing on his lips, he turns off the lamp. “your mouth?” he wonders at the ceiling, widening his eyes, “the toilets?”
jeno. the letters change places when you look at them for a long time. you blink, your eyelids heavy linger towards the empty coffee cup next to your notes; your attempt to do an all-nighter has been unsuccessful as you feel the sleep spell take control of your body. “come, darling,” seems to whisper sandman in your ear. as you are in the limbo between the two universes, your body seems to float and be welcomed by his warm embrace, followed by the gentle movement that lullies you back when jeno takes you to his room.
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hyunnie04 · 3 months
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lee felix x reader, fluff | m.list
wc: 390 | warnings: none
a/n: based off felix's runway debut. just wanted to write a small blurb about how much i love felix. so proud. aaaaa :(((
you watch the screen in awe.
he looks ethereal walking down the aisle. platinum blonde hair neatly slicked back, the most gorgeous set of clothes tailor made to fit him, hugging his lithe figure like a prince, blessed with such elegance and grace.
felix had finally achieved his dream.
“how many times have you watched that, hmm?” felix takes a seat next to you, the couch dipping in his weight. he hands you a steaming cup of coffee by it's rim, careful not to let you touch the hot ceramic.
he’s wearing his pajamas, his hair tousled, and makeup free from his beautiful freckled face, completely opposite to the night before.
“as many times as i can. i can’t help it,” you grin up at him, pausing the video with a remote you had in your hand.
“you just look so gorgeous.” he laughs, both fangs charmingly poking out.
“thank you,” and for a moment, you could see the tips of his ears flush with the lightest shade of pink. “yeah well, i couldn’t have done it without you.”
"this is all you, lee yongbok." it was your turn to laugh, leaning comfortably on his shoulder. "i beg to differ." he says, kissing the top of your head.
the unexplainable feeling you have watching him from the start, watching him grow through his ups and downs, all those doubts and worries, ultimately paying off in the end.
you remember the sleepless nights, the conversations you two had together, him briefly wondering if he was going to make it. you shook your head, never doubting him for a second.
all you ever wanted was for him to achieve his dreams, wishing for the world to give him everything. and now here he is, walking for the world's most renowned fashion brand.
the whole world now knew who he was, without a doubt endlessly loved by so many and anyone who has had the pleasure of getting to know felix himself.
you couldn't think of anyone else who deserves this more than him. the love and proudness you feel for him is so much its impossible- unfathomable to put into words.
“i’m just so proud of you.” you fear you might burst into tears if you look at him while saying it.
“thank you, my love.” he sends you a breath taking smile, kissing you tenderly on the bow of your lips.
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gay-dorito-dust · 10 months
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Oooo please write fem reader gives her boyfriend Ken a golden retriever puppy as a gift
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A golden retriever for a golden retriever boyfriend. I’m here for it. 🦦
You were in the midst of getting everything set up when Ken came barging into your house, you mentally thanked yourself for remembering to unlock the front door, because last time he tried to barge into your house because you needed him, you both were having to pay Dr Barbie a visit for Ken’s injuries.
‘I got your text!’ Ken exclaimed, raising his phone in the air, slightly out of breath from having ran all the way here from the beach, ‘I’m here like you ask! What’s wrong? Where’s the danger?’ You looked at him as though he had grown a second head. ‘Did you seriously run-‘
‘All the way here? Yes.’ Ken replied.
‘Why-‘ you were genuinely baffled.
‘You needed me.’ Ken explained with a serious expression on his face, acting as though it was obvious that he was more then willing to drop everything for you, no matter how minor it was, he’s just glad he’s the first person you’d thought of to text. ‘You needed me and I knew that had to be there quickly. So I ran.’ He adds before shrugging his shoulders nonchalant.
Your heart softened at the thought that this man was more then willing to run across town for you, it’s romantic no doubt, but you found yourself growing more concerned about how he was still trying to catch his breath. ‘Ken. Honey, as sweet as that all is, why don’t you sit down and rest, you must be exhausted from all that running.’ You told him as you made your way to his side, grabbing his arm and bringing him to sit on one of the more comfortable plush chairs within your living room. ‘That actually sounds like a great idea.’ Ken groaned as he rested himself back against the plush cushioning but kept a hold of your hand, even going so far as to tightening his hold when he felt you try to slip away, groaning even more when you did manage to successfully pull away.
‘Why’d you do that? You big meanie.’ Ken whined and you couldn’t help but smile at his neediness before leaning over to press a kiss to his albeit sweaty forehead. ‘I have to go get your present, he’s really excited to meet you.’ You said as you pulled away from Ken, who only looked after you with curiosity until you were gone from his sight, leaving him to wonder what it was that you were getting up to as his head tilted to the side in confusion. Thankfully Ken didn’t have to wait that long to find out for as soon as his brain could comprehend it, there sat in his lap was a…
‘puppy!’ He exclaimed loudly as he good a good look at the beautiful golden retriever that was having trouble staying still with how the pup shifted from paw to paw, tail wagging at the speed of light that it was impossible to catch up with. Ken looked at you when you rented the room with a sweet smile upon your face. ‘You got me a puppy?!’ He was practically crying as he said this, holding the dog carefully under his arms, bringing him up to eye level, crying even more when the pup began vigorously licking his face. ‘This is the best day ever!’ Ken added, smiling wider then you have ever seen him smile before in your life.
It warmed your heart seeing Ken so happy and joyful that you couldn’t help but want to feel included in the fun as you knelt down beside the chair, resting your weight onto the arms of the chair. ‘I’m glad you like him because he’s going to be our little pup from now on.’ You told him as you watched Ken cuddle the pup close to his chest whilst it continued to licked away at under his jaw, but upon hearing your words made the blonde almost jump out of his seat.
‘He’s ours?’ Ken asked in a whisper as though he couldn’t believe this day getting any better.
You chuckled at his reaction, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you began to run your fingers across the puppy’s fur softly. ‘Yes, this little one is officially ours,’ you tell him. ‘All he needs is a name, any thoughts?’ You added, making direct eye contact with Ken as he thought on it really hard before finally coming up with an answer. ‘He shall be called Ken Jr.’ he proclaimed proudly, lifting the unsuspecting pup into the air for dramatic effect before then bringing him back into his chest to smother the pup- now dubbed Ken Jr- in even more affectionate cuddles.
‘Thank you Sweetheart.’ Ken told you.
‘For what?’ You asked him, subtly playing with one of Ken Jr’s paws.
‘For being with me and for giving me the most beautiful fur baby I have ever laid eyes on.’ He tells you and you couldn’t help but reach over, hold his face in your hands as you came and press a kiss to his lips, whispering, ‘only the best for my handsome Ken.’
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disasterofastory · 1 year
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What about Legolas x F!reader? Maybe she is a friend of Eomer and Legolas gets jealous about all the time they stay together? And some hot moment? I don't know, this is just an Idea. So, I'm sorry for my bad english but I'm Italian. Have a good day❤️
Just a reminder Legolas x Reader Warnings: jealousy, smut
Summary: Legolas reminds you of the reasons you are with him.
A/N: Please don't be sorry for your English. I know the struggle. :)
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The grassland is covered in a bright golden hue as the sun reaches the top of the clear blue sky. The lush, green grass waves like the ocean as a breeze runs through the peaceful scenery. Everything is so quiet and calm. It is almost impossible to believe the dark power that works and marches forward underneath it all. The warm rays of the sun caress your bare arms and your cheeks. The tree you lean against is tall and strong, bending its branches to the will of the slight wind. The rustle of the leaves is a sweet whisper in your ear as you focus on the story in front of you. The book is a pleasant weight on your lap. The pages are old and thin between your fingers.
"What are you reading?" Legolas's voice breaks your concentration, but you feel nothing but happiness as you turn your eyes from the long row of words to the tall elf standing a few meters away from you. "Just a book," you shrug. "Tales for children." "Are they good?" He asks, sitting down next to you with a few elegant movements. "You know how it is," you hum, closing the book and putting it on the ground. "The good always wins, and the bad guys pay for their misdeeds as they should." "It was easier to believe in it when we were kids, no?" The elf asks. You can almost see his blue eyes darkening with ominous thoughts. "Sometimes it's harder when you are an adult, yes," you reply, reaching out for his hand to link your fingers together. "But there is always hope." "I heard you will go with Gandalf." "Yes," you nod. "He thinks Eomer will listen to me." A slight frown appears between his brows. His lips turn into a thin line. "Are you friends with the rider?" "Something like that, yes." "When we met them, he asked you to come with them." You barely recognized him when your way met with the riders during your search for the hobbits. You smile and nod in confirmation. "Why are these questions?" "Why didn't you? Went with them, I mean." "You are my home, Legolas," you reply, squeezing his hand in yours. "I won't leave you." "But you will go with Gandalf." "He asked me," you reason, getting a little bit confused. Something is off with Legolas, but you can't find out what. "And it's just for a few days. We need every help we can get." "Are you sure?" He asks. He feels selfish, and guilt eats him up inside because of it, but he can't help himself. He knows orcs and death will wait for you in Helm's Deep, but he can't bear the thought of you staying with the riders. With Eomer. "Legolas," you say his name softly, cupping his cheek with your free hand. Your thumb caresses the soft skin under his eye. "Of course, I will come back to you. There is nothing that can keep me away from you." He smiles at your words. The slight curve of his lips gives him something angelic and ethereal that you can never get used to. You still don't understand how the elven prince can love you, a simple mortal, but he does, and you stopped questioning it years ago.
Soon, his lips find yours, and the kiss that always starts so gently is impatient and rushing now. His hand lands on the back of your head to keep you close, while his tongue slips into your mouth with ease. He invites you to a dance that's intimate and familiar. "Don't get me wrong," you hum when he breaks away. His breath still fans over your lips. It smells like ale and fruits. "I love your kisses, but you still don't tell me something." Now, the guilt is transparent on his delicate features, and he looks down at your intertwined fingers. The small gesture makes his years younger. "I just…" he sighs. "I just don't want you to find something with the rider that will make you stay with them… with him." "Oh, my love," you laugh, pecking his lips when you notice the slight blush spreading on his cheeks. "There is nothing that makes me stay where you aren't." Your words are followed by another kiss. It's feverish and bruising and makes you lose your breath for long seconds. His hand finds the loose curls at the nape of your neck, and before you know it, you are lying on the grass with Legolas above you. When he looks into your eyes, the glint you know so well by now is back in his bright blue irises. "I love you," he says, caressing the line of your jaw. "I love you too," you hum against his lips before gasping at his sudden touch. " What are you doing?" "Just a reminder of what I can do to you." He bares your legs with a few quick pulls on your dress until his hand finds its way between your thighs. "Legolas," you gasp again, looking around your surroundings. "What if someone sees us?" "I will hear them before they can see us," he promises. "Do you trust me?" The question makes your legs spread open before his caressing touch. "Of course."
His lips wander down your neck, caressing the soft skin there with slow, lazy kisses while his long fingers find their way to your center after pushing your panties aside. His fingertips slide over your fold easily. Your wetness soaks him within a few seconds. "You are so wet already," he hums. His words flutter in your chest. Your heart thuds against your ribcage. "Legolas," you pant his name, grabbing his shoulder. Your other hand tries to find some support on the ground. The grass is soft under your touch. "I'm here, love," he replies. "And I won't go anywhere until you cum around my fingers." Your eyes fall shut as the pleasure flares through your body. It burns your veins and spins the world around you. His thumb draws small circles on your clit, helping you to chase your orgasm. His breath fans over your neck, and his voice make you tremble some more. "Who makes you feel this good?" He asks, and when you don't answer immediately, he doesn't wait to push two fingers inside your aching hole. Your head falls back, and a moan breaks up from your throat. "Say my name, Y/N," the elf demands. "Let everyone hear who you belong to." His name leaves your lover's name in breathless whines as his hand speeds up between your legs. He pushes you to the edge and doesn't give you enough time to process what's happening. "Cum, Y/N," Legolas says. "Make a mess on my hand. Give me something to remember while you are far away from my arms."
Pleasure washes over you as the burning coil snaps in your lower belly. Your muscles jerk, and your breath stops for a long second. Your orgasm comes quickly and powerfully. It feels like Legolas's arms are the only things that keep you in one piece.
When you open your eyes, you see him licking your juices off his fingers. A satisfied smile plays on his lips the whole time. "You will get more when we meet again," he promises.
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spacecowboyhotch · 11 months
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The Bee & the Bear, Chapter 1: And Then There Were Four
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summary: Mikey’s death brings the gang back together again.
pairing: carmy berzatto x f!reader (Bee)
contents: 18+/NSFW/heavy content, mention of suicide/mental illness, grief, longing, pining, angst, friends to strangersish to lovers
wc: 2.1k
an: this is my first time writing for the Bear so i beg of you to go easy on me.
series masterlist
The sky is gray and cloudy and birds are singing softly, perched in dead trees. There’s snow on the ground, crunching beneath the weight of everyone’s shoes. Beneath the weight of everyone’s grief, so heavy it's palpable. It’s the coldest day of the year, fitting for the occasion. Because Mikey’s dead, taken from all of you with his own hand.
You’re sandwiched between Sugar and Richie, to keep them apart, to keep them together. Regardless of their history and their care for each other, it's always touch and go– a disaster waiting to happen. But with you here and in the flesh after so many years, they’re both trying to balance that fucked up mixture of happiness from seeing your face and the pure despair from losing Mikey.
“Thank you for comin’, sweetheart,” Richie squeezes your shoulders, his eyes soft and watery when you look up at him.
You lean more firmly into his side, “You know I wouldn’t miss it.”
“You know who would.”
You know exactly who he’s talking about. Carmy isn’t here, and while anyone else would expect him to show up to his brother’s funeral it had not surprised you. Not with how the last several years have gone. Richie’s words make you sigh tiredly, and you give him a stern look. The last thing that Mikey’s funeral needs is more blaming. That didn’t start at Mikey’s funeral though, the Berzattos have pointed fingers at each other for as long as you can remember.
There are faces familiar and not around you, all of them turned to the ground, paying their last respects to Mikey. This hurts, it hurts deeper than anything you’ve ever felt before. Since you’d gotten that phone call from Sugar something heavy and dark has sat in the pit of your stomach, taking root and finding its home there. Life has always been the 5 of you, even with you and Carmy strewn across the country. You and Mikey and Carmy and Sugar and Richie. A reality that you’d always known, that you found comfort in on days you felt a little too homesick. Your relationships with all of them heavily inspired your art, they had become your family.
As you watch Mikey’s casket be lowered into the ground you can’t help but feel like your lens on life has shifted. For the first time in a long time, you aren’t completely sure where anything goes.
“Are you hungry?” Sugar asks as the two of you shed your coats and head into her kitchen.
There was no repass, what with the restaurant currently closed. Everyone had agreed it didn’t feel right to eat anything but The Beef in Mikey’s honor. There had been one last huddle, shared goodbyes and I love yous, and many tears before everyone had dispersed. You’d promised Sugar that you’d help her sort through everything since Carmy never showed up.
“Starving.”
She sets the file box full of Mikey’s paperwork on the counter and takes a step towards the fridge, “I’ll make us something.”
You rest your hand over hers, shaking your head, “No, it’s good, Sugar. Sit, start sifting, I’ll do it.”
“You sure?” She asks skeptically– sure you know how to work your way around a kitchen-- its impossible not to with Mikey and Carmy-- before you’ve never been known for being a cook. You're the artist, the traditional creative of the bunch who has mess and color strewn all about.
“I’m sure, just let me help. It’s what I’m here for, yeah?”
Her eyes go a little soft and she nods, “Yeah, okay.”
She goes to sit at the breakfast bar, looking at the pile of documents that hold Mikey’s life. Heaps and heaps of paper that mean nothing to her. That do a terrible job of capturing who Mikey was and what his life meant to others.
You open the fridge, poking through the contents as if you’ve done this a million times. That’s just how things are with Sugar, they’re comfortable– always have been and always will be. She has the ingredients for their mom’s chicken piccata in her fridge and you quickly fetch them and the proper tools.
Sugar does her best to stay on task, but the sounds of someone else in the kitchen, and the smell of her mother’s food are distracting. She watches the flick of your wrist and the speed of your knife. You dice and sprinkle and stir in similar ways to her brothers. It’s impossible to notice.
“You look like them,” She says, her voice a little melancholic.
“Look like who?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at her in concern.
The smile on her face is wistful, “Like Mikey. Like Carmy. Carmy especially.”
Something in your chest cracks. You turn back to the pan in front of you, spooning sauce over the chicken one too many times, just to stay away from the tender look on her face. “They did teach me the basics.”
She’s silent for a moment, battling herself, wondering if she should ask this question. It’s a touchy subject, it always has been despite your closeness but she just had to know. “I sorta know the answer to this, but did you…did you try?”
“Don’t start with me, Nat.”
“I just want to know,” She assures you gently. “Did you really try?”
You reach for the jar of capers angrily, though this is less about the anger and more about the hurt. About the longing, this brings up. “He treated me just like everyone else. There was nothing for me to try.”
“You know Carmen’s always had a soft spot for you.”
“Not soft enough to follow through on his words,” You mumble sourly.
She goes quiet then because you’re right. Carmy had taken off for culinary school and seemingly never looked back, besides the infamous Christmas– the one you don’t even know about. All of his promises of staying in touch and showing each other new worlds fell flat.
You had tried. You offered to take him on a food crawl through Seattle where you were going to art school.
“Oh my fucking god,” She grits out, the shock in her voice sending you into fight or flight. The plate in your hand clatters to the counter without breaking, thankfully.
You turn to her, leaning across the counter, “What? What’s wrong?”
Her eyes continue to scan the page in front of her, over and over as if the letters will say something different. “Michael you fucking— he left Bear the restaurant.”
“He what?”
“Fucking Mikey,” She stands abruptly, scrubbing her face with her hands. “Ok, ok, um–uh–can you call Bear? I’m gonna call Richie.”
“Me? Call Carmy?”
Was the man that you’d fallen in love with when he was just a little boy really still out there? Sure, he was— living and breathing, walking and cooking and testing. But, all of that was mechanical. Was his smile still the same? His laugh? Did a heart still beat in that empty chest of his? Did his blue eyes still hold as much as Lake Michigan?
Sugar sees your panic, face softening with concern, “We both know he won’t answer, you’ll be fine.”
“But—“
“Please, Bee?”
The name that Sugar calls you knocks the breath from your lungs. It’s been a long, long time since anyone has called you that— since you left for college. Since the last time you’d seen Carmy. Would he still call you that? He’d started it after all. Named you Bee because you were obsessed with painting flowers, they covered your room, all of your canvas and anything else your parents deemed invaluable enough to lose to your hobby turned career.
“Hey, you okay?” She asks when you don’t respond after several seconds.
You blink a few times before refocusing on her. You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, “What? Yeah, just fine.”
Her brow furrows, and she steps closer reaching out to run her hand up and down your arm, “Are you sure?”
You give a smile that doesn’t touch your eyes and fish your phone out of your pocket, “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll go call Carmy.”
Before Sugar can respond you make your way to the front door and let yourself out. You’re met with the frigid Chicago air, the wind whipping at your cheeks. With your coat inside, the cold chills you to the bone but the feeling is welcome. It shocks your nervous system in a way that makes it easier to call Carmy. Your head is clear, and most of your focus is now on warming your fingers as you dial his number and start to pace.
Sugar was right– he doesn’t answer. It rings and rings and rings until you hear his voice for the first time in years. It's the same message that he’d set years ago: Hey, it's Carmy. Let it rip at the beep.
Many beats of silence pass before you realize that it's time for you to speak.
“Oh fuck, sorry. H-Hi, Carmen. It’s…it’s me. Nat and I just went through Mikey’s will and well…he left it to you. The Beef I mean, it’s yours. Sugar really needs you to come home to figure this out.”
You pause for a moment, wondering if you should say anything about yourself. About your friendship that he’s let crumble. About your heart that he’s ground into dust with each day that goes by with no contact. No that won’t do.
“Just come home and help your fucking sister. Please, Carmy,” You plead softly before hanging up.
You aren’t sure if that was a good enough attempt, but you don’t want to risk calling back and having to face him. Despite your worry, it does the trick.
You and Sugar are tucked in Mikey’s office, combing through records of unpaid pills and disorganized expense reports when it happens.
“Cousin!” Richie yells with just enough disbelief in his voice for you to know.
You and Sugar look at each other with wide eyes, hands frozen and full of stacks of paper. You can hear them clambering through the restaurant, making their way to you and you wish that some freak accident that denies the laws of physics would swallow you up.
To your dismay, It doesn’t.
Carmy and Richie round the corner, and you’re a goner like you’ve been all these years. Soft blue eyes that give the crystal skies a run for their money and a messy mop of ashy hair. It doesn’t matter that a man waits for you at home or how many times you’ve told yourself that you’re over Carmy. It never sticks, you don’t know why you thought it would. You were hoping that he’d hurt you enough for it to fade.
Carmy stops in his tracks at the sight of you, throwing Richie a look that clearly says “you couldn’t have warned me”. You aren’t sure how to interpret it– was he excited to see you? Upset?
He stuffs his hands into his pockets nervously and leans against the door frame. “Hi. Hey,” He means to say it to you and Sugar, but his eyes don’t leave your face.
“Hey,” You squeak, cheeks heating in embarrassment. You clear your throat and try again. “Hi, Carmen.”
“Hey, Bear,” Sugar waves her hand playfully as if she’s trying to get his attention, and his eyes finally flit over to her.
He smiles, one that you know is genuine despite that lack of teeth. His eyes drop to the ground and he nods a few times before glancing to Natalie again. “So he left it to me,” He says lamely.
“Yeah, Carmy, he left it to you,” Sugar repeats his words, frustrated not only with Carmy for his late arrival or for his lack of appearance at his own brother’s funeral but for this entire situation.
None of them should be here trying to figure this out. Mikey should be in this kitchen with Richie, she should be at home thinking about what she and Pete for dinner. And though this finally brought you and Carmy home, she wishes that things were the way they were just a few short weeks ago. She wants Mikey alive.
“Guess that means I should open it.”
Richie gives out a shout before clapping Carmy on the shoulder, “See now I like the sound of that, cousin.”
Carmy flinches under Richie’s touch, hoping no one will notice. It's not something he wants to talk about or even think about. He can feel your eyes on him and quickly makes up an excuse to put some space between the two of you. “I’m gonna go check out the stock in the fridge. It— uh, good to see you, Bee.”
You nod awkwardly, though those simple words make your heart race, “You too, Carmy.”
Richie doesn’t follow after him, stepping into the office and crossing his arms. The three of you sit there in a silence that screams he has something to say.
“Just say it, Richie. Fuck’s sake,” Sugar finally says, rubbing her temples.
Your brow furrows as your head whips from side to side to look between them. “Say what?”
“You know he’ll notice, right?” Richie asks you, leaning back against the desk.
“Notice what?”
Richie looks at Sugar expectantly, and she sighs, rubbing at her temples again. She fixes you with a look that is as sympathetic as it is accusatory, “That you don’t call him Bear anymore.”
| > chapter 2: Back in the Beef
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zafirosreverie · 1 year
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Not enough (Bruno x Reader)
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For @tolkien-fantasy hope you like it
__________________
You sighed and tried to block the pain from your mind as you let Casita help you to the nearest chair. You were sick of this, of not being able to do things by yourself and having to depend not only on your family, but on the house itself. It's not that you weren't grateful, but each day you felt more like a burden than a person.
"Thank you Casita" you whispered
You didn't even pay attention to the little tile that waved in greeting, you were too busy gently rubbing your hands and trying to hold back the angry tears that stung in your eyes.
You really missed the time when you could do more things, when you could run, jump, cook, play with your nieces and nephew, when simply moving from one chair to another was not an almost impossible herculean task for you. A time that seemed so far away now.
It started just three years after your wedding. You and Bruno were at your best, just enjoying each other's company, being goofy and happy, you had even made plans to make your family bigger (even if he turned red as soon as you mentioned it), it was all so perfect. Until the first blackout.
It had happened out of nowhere, one moment you were buying books with Pepa and the next everything had suddenly gone dark. By the time you woke up, you were already at home, in your bed, with the whole family looking at you with concern while Julieta tried to bring down your fever. Your sister-in-law didn't know what caused it, and despite what she might say, the soft smiles she gave you and how much she cared for you, you knew that a part of her had never stopped feeling guilty, because no matter how much magical food she gave you, you never healed.
Things had only gotten worse for you since that day, blackouts occurring more and more frequently, your joints and muscles getting weaker, condemning you to a life of constant pain. At first, you didn't want to say anything, you didn't want to worry Bruno or give Julieta more work, but when Pepa had to carry you back in her arms because your legs couldn't bear your weight anymore, you had to admit that something was wrong with you.
Your husband hardly ever left your side since then, saying that he didn't help the town much anyway. Alma accepted it, too worried that something could happen to the person she saw as another child, Julieta scolded you for not going to her every time something hurt and Pepa had made it her mission not to lose sight of you in the strange times when her brother was not with you.
"You can't leave me alone with those two, Y/N" she had told you "I'd go crazy"
"You already are" you teased softly
She smiled at you, but you could see in her eyes the same fear that invaded them all. They never told you anything, but you knew that Bruno had tried to look into your future to find out how he could help you or what would happen to you, when would you get better? But he never shared that vision, and deep inside you knew the answer: you never would.
It was hard at first, but you were strong for him, because you knew that the only person more terrified than you was your husband. He was afraid of losing you, of not being able to do anything for you, and even though you felt the same fear of leaving him, you decided that you couldn't let that paralyze you, that regardless of whether you had much or little time left, you were going to enjoy it with your family. 
Your nieces and nephew were quick to get used to your situation. Isabela tried to act as if she could take care of you by herself, she would spend afternoons with you after school and she would fill your hair with beautiful flowers to cheer you up when you felt bad. Often she and Camilo competed over who could make you smile the most.
Luisa was extremely careful with you. She had just gotten her gift just two years before and she was terrified of hurting you with her strength, so she was content to just talk to you from the door. Mirabel, your precious butterfly, was the one who kept you the most company.
The girl was a miracle, you had told Julieta, who lit up the whole room with her mere presence. It didn't matter if Pepa or Bruno were keeping you company, Mirabel was always, always by your side, telling you how her day had gone, what things she had found, showing you her drawings and simply making you feel warmer every time she smiled at you.
However, everyone knew that it was Dolores who took care of you the most. The girl was silent, but her gift had turned out to be the most useful in helping you. She was always aware of you, your heart rate, your breathing, everything. If you started to get agitated, the girl immediately warned any adult who was nearby, she was like your little personal sentinel, always watching over you even if she wasn't around.
So you weren't surprised when Bruno rushed into the kitchen, almost tripping over his own feet. You smiled lovingly at him when he dropped in front of you with concern etched on his face. You were pleasantly surprised how after so many years, he was still incredibly handsome in your eyes and how he could look at you with such love and adoration, as if he hadn't spent the last few years practically having to shadow you.
"What happened?" he asked worried
"Nothing" you smiled "I just got a little dizzy, but I'm fine, Casita helped me"
He smiled back gently, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb, his touch as light as a feather. That was another thing he knew you hated: that nowadays your conversations were just to say who had helped you. There were no longer funny stories, innocent gossip or funny anecdotes, your life was slowly ending between the same walls.
"Amor..." you whispered
"Yes?"
"...please"
Your husband's expression changed to one of intense pain. It wasn't the first time you had this conversation, that you begged him to tell you what he had seen in that vision. You weren't stupid, you knew there was no cure, otherwise Julieta's food would have already worked, you didn't want to know how it would happen, if it would be painful or if you would go off quietly between dreams. All you wanted to know was how much time you had.
"Y/N -" he started
"I need to know, Bruno" you interrupted him "I don't even know if I'll make it to next Christmas"
It was a depressing thought, because it was September, and if it weren't for the intense pain you felt all the time and that had gotten worse in recent weeks, you wouldn't be making such a suggestion knowing that Dolores was listening to you. But you felt that now was not the time to be careful.
"Mi vida-"
"Please" you begged "...just tell me, how much time do I have?"
Bruno looked at you with an intense mix of fear, pain, and regret, but with a flash of love, love so deep you could almost feel it in your very bones. He sighed and took your hands gently. His grip was shaky and you knew, even before the words left his mouth, that his response was causing him great pain.
"Not enough"
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 7 months
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Like Real People Do
Pairing: Abraham (Grantchester) x f!reader Warnings: Allusions to smut, mild angst, mentions of pregnancy. Word count: ~2.5k
Summary: Her and Abraham have been seeing each other on the sly for the last six months. Some unexpected news makes her worry she's ruined everything between them. Based on this request.
Author's note: For @bbyaemond. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.
She gasps as she feels Cora’s hands gently squeeze her breasts through her blouse.
“Sorry, love,” the dark haired, older woman smiles at her apologetically, “it’s one of the only ways I can know for certain. Might be worth you seeing a doctor though, just to be sure.”
“No!” She shakes her head vehemently. “No doctors. If mum finds out she’ll kill me.”
“Seems to me you’re not far along, but give it another month or two and you’re gonna start to show. You can’t hide it forever,” Cora tells her softly. “Does Abraham know?”
Feeling tears prickle at her eyes, she lowers her head, inhaling shakily. “N-no,” she replies, her voice wobbling. “God, Cora, what am I gonna do? Please don’t say anything.”
Cora sighs, stepping forward and pulling her into a tight hug. “I’ll pop some water on to boil and we’ll have a nice cup of tea. That always makes everything better.”
The Romani people had arrived into Grantchester six months ago, setting up camp on Mr. Ruskin’s land. They’d kept to themselves and caused no trouble, so there had been no rush from the farmer to move them on, especially when they were paying him good money to make use of his stables for their horses.
She had been enamoured with Abraham from the moment she’d laid eyes upon him. His intense blue stare and the way it had dragged slowly down her form from top to bottom then back up again had made her skin feel hot.
He felt impossibly tell as he’d approached her and introduced himself, a lopsided smirk upon his sharp, handsome features. From the way her heart raced as she’d told him her name she’d known instantly she was in trouble. She was going to fall hard for this man, and she had.
It was a warm summer’s evening, the sun hanging low and vibrantly orange on the horizon as they’d walked to the top of the grassy hill that overlooked the village, settling down onto its grassy bank.
“I like it up here,” she’d told him, “I come here when I’m feeling sad or worried. Nice to pull my head out of the clouds by being close to ‘em, y’know?”
He’d raised an eyebrow at her, that trademark smirk reappearing and she’d felt for certain he was going to make fun of her, until she’d felt the weight of his arm around her shoulder. It had made excitement flutter in her stomach.
“Pretty girl like you shouldn’t ever feel sad or worried,” he’d told her, pulling a brown glass bottle from his inner jacket pocket and holding it up to her, “Pal’s ginger wine, fancy a swig?”
She’d giggled, accepting the bottle from him and uncorking it before taking a drink. It had burned the back of her throat as she’d swallowed, making her eyes go wide as she’d covered her mouth with the back of her hand, coughing and spluttering.
Abraham had laughed, taking the bottle back off of her and rubbing her back. “Yeah, it’s a bit on the strong side. Go easy with it.”
They had shared their first kiss that evening, and the ginger wine tasted so much sweeter upon his lips than it had from the bottle. His lips pressed against hers firmly, yet felt soft against her own as he’d threaded his fingers into her hair, their breaths heavy as his tongue had slipped against her own.
Every night after that had been filled with his presence, his large hands wandering over her curves as their mouths had moved together.
When he’d pressed inside of her for the first time, as they’d laid against a blanket on the hay, she’d winced slightly, tensing up at the uncomfortable sting. He moved with such self assuredness that she couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy, acrid and bitter in her chest. How many girls had there been before her?
Her worries were immediately pacified the moment he’d sensed her discomfort and pulled back slightly to look her in the eye, his palm cupping her cheek. “Is this your first time?” He’d asked quietly.
She nodded, embarrassment heating her skin, and averted her gaze with shame.
Abraham had grasped her chin between thumb and forefinger, brushing the tip of her nose with his. “Good,” he’d whispered, “that means you’re mine.”
He had kissed her passionately, his movements inside of her slow and gentle.
God, I love you, she’d thought, and every day since then the feeling had intensified.
It had been half a year of bliss, and she had been too wrapped up in her whirlwind romance with her handsome traveller to take any notice when she’d missed her monthly bleed the first time. However, when a second month had passed without any sign of it she had noticed and grown worried. Her breasts felt tender and she was more tired than usual.
The thought of telling her parents she might be pregnant had terrified her, she was sure they’d disown her. Cora was a kind, motherly figure of the Romani people’s camp and had always been welcoming to her, she had felt like the safest option.
Now as she sits opposite her, her hands cradling the comforting warmth of a cup of tea, she knows she’s made the right choice.
“I can’t tell Abe,” says quietly, figures stroking against the delicate china of her tea cup. “We’ve never even said I love you. He won’t want a baby with me, I was just a bit of fun until you all move on again.”
Cora tuts, pushing a plate of biscuits towards her. “You do both of you a disservice. That boy loves the bones of you, anyone can see that. Tell him.”
“What if he finishes with me?” She asks worriedly, her eyes big as she stares across the table at her.
“Then I’ll give him a bloody good clip round the ear,” Cora quips, snatching up a custard cream from the plate.
She feels lighter as she steps out of the caravan, more prepared to deal with the burden she has to bear. Filled with courage from Cora’s words, she makes her way towards the stables, knowing that’s where she’s most likely to find Abraham at this time of day.
Hearing voices as she gets closer, she pauses, listening intently to the conversation, keeping herself out of sight.
“So you’ll be ready for us to make a move once this thoroughbred’s sold then?” She hears Pal ask.
“Yeah,” comes Abraham’s response, “she’s fast, so she’ll sell quick.”
“And what about your missus, is she alright with all of this?”
“She’s a good girl,” Abraham says, “easy going, she’ll give us no trouble.”
Her heart lurches in her chest, her throat feeling tight and she turns and walks quickly away in the direction of home.
She’s a good girl, easy going, she’ll give us no trouble.
The words play on a loop in her mind. Abraham’s easy summer fling, one that will give him no hassle when it comes time for him to abandon her and move on to the next town, the next girl. Is that really all she is to him?
Hot, fat tears roll down her cheeks as she bows her head, wrapping her arms around herself, willing her feet to move faster, so she can fall apart in private. The thought that she is carrying the child of the man who plans to leave her is more than she can handle.
She shuts herself away in her bedroom for the next couple of days, feigning illness to her parents. It’s not a complete lie, the morning sickness has begun in earnest, though she is displeased to find it doesn’t have the courtesy to restrict itself simply to that time of day, and waves of nausea have her crouching over the porcelain at all hours.
This is the longest she has gone without seeing Abraham since they met, and in spite of the fact she knows their relationship is doomed to fail, she can’t help but miss him. When she’s not vomiting up the tea and toast she’s fought to keep down, she’s curled beneath her duvet, fear and sadness gnawing at her. What will she do without him? What will she do with a baby?
It’s early afternoon, and her dad is at work, her mum out running errands, when she sees the small pebble sail towards her bedroom window, dinging loudly off of the glass as it makes contact before falling away again.
She feels a rush of excitement as she looks out to see Abraham standing on the path below, looking up at her. Despite everything she cannot help what she feels for him, can’t deny the effect he has on her. He gestures for her to come down, brow furrowed slightly in concern.
Dread forms a hollow pit in her belly. Has he come to tell her he’s moving on, to end things? She is not sure her heart can take hearing him say the words to her, yet she slips on her shoes and goes outside anyway.
Abraham moves to embrace her, but pauses, stepping back as she hovers by the front door. “Your mum and dad in?”
She shakes her head and he visibly relaxes, posture becoming less rigid as he reaches out and takes her hand.
“Not seen you for a few days,” he tells her, “everything alright?”
She stares at where their hands join together, then up at his face and suddenly it feels as though she can’t breathe. She doesn’t want this to be her final memory of his touch, the clasp of his hand in hers as he breaks her heart. 
Snatching her arm back, she swallows thickly, ignoring the way his eyes widen and his lips part slightly in apparent shock. “No. No, I’m not alright,” she says, voice wobbling.
Tell him.
She can’t. She doesn’t want the reason he stays to be because she has trapped him by falling pregnant. She wants to be enough for him, but the fact that he has her and wants to leave anyway tells all she needs to know; she isn’t.
She presses on, not giving him the chance to interrupt her. “I heard you and Pal in the stables the other day. I know you’re leaving, I just wish you’d had the decency to tell me sooner. So, if you’ve come here to finish with me, I don’t wanna hear it. I know. Spare me.”
Her breathing is laboured by the time she finishes speaking and she’s crying once more.
Abraham steps forward, his own eyes watery as he reaches for her. “Please, I–”
“Don’t,” she chokes out, before spotting her mum coming from the end of the lane.
Abraham follows her line of sight and stuffs his hands into his pockets, walking quickly away in the opposite direction, as she steps back into the house. She slams the front door and runs up the stairs to muffle her tears into her pillow. She doesn’t emerge for the rest of the day, falling into an uneasy sleep.
It has been four days since she overheard Abraham and Pal’s conversation, three days since she left the house, and the walls are beginning to feel as though they’re closing in on her. She is desperate to get outside, to breathe in fresh air and clear her mind and body of the heartache that plagues her.
She heads for her favourite hill. The climb feeling more tiring than it usually does, a side effect of her being pregnant she supposes. She wonders if she will have to stop coming here altogether as she gets bigger. The thought makes her sad. She is losing everything she loves.
The tickle of the grass against the backs of her legs as she sits down, coupled with the gentle breeze on her skin, has her closing her eyes, turning her face up towards the sun, enjoying its gentle warmth.
Staying like that for a few moments, she smiles to herself, savouring the first time her mind has been quiet since Cora confirmed her suspicions about her current condition.
She senses the sunlight darken through her eyelids and slowly opens them to see Abraham standing over her.
Her mouth turns downwards, her heart sinking.
He’s come to finish what he started.
“Alright?” He says, long limbs folding as he settles beside her on the grass.
She sighs. “Why’d you follow me here? I’ve said all I’ve gotta say.”
“Good for you,” he says, narrowing his eyes, “but I haven’t, so you’ll listen for once. I’m not leaving you. What you overheard the other day was Pal asking about me planning to bring you with us, you misunderstood.”
Tell him.
“I’m pregnant,” she blurts, acting on Cora’s advice before she has the chance to talk herself out of it.
Abraham’s eyebrows raise, his baby blues widening as he stares at her wordlessly for a moment. Time feels as though it stretches for an eternity, and she worries he’ll simply get up and walk away, but then he smiles, a wide grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes and makes them twinkle.
“Just as well I’m taking you with me when we go then,” he says, placing a hand on her knee and squeezing gently.
She sighs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms around her middle. “You aren’t obligated to me just because you got me up the duff.”
“I know that,” he says, his hand never leaving her thigh, “but I meant what I said, I won’t leave you, baby or no baby. Look–”
He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a delicate gold wedding band, and she gasps.
“This was me nanna’s. Mam held onto it, wanted to give it to her daughter. Unlucky for her, she had all boys, so she said whichever of us got married first could have it. Been carrying it round since we first kissed, I’ve always known I wanted to ask you.”
“You were gonna ask me to marry you?” She asks in disbelief.
Abraham nods. “I still am. Figured you wouldn’t wanna come with me if I didn’t make an honest woman outta you, and well…I love you.”
She sniffles, resting her head against his shoulder and he wraps his arm around her, pulling her close. “You’re not angry that I’m pregnant?” She wonders aloud.
“Not at all. It’s not happened in the order I thought it would, but that’s life, I s’pose. Just means you might look a bit fat in your wedding dress.”
She huffs a laugh, swatting at him playfully and he grins.
“So, we’re doing this then?” He asks.
“Yeah, looks like we are,” she smiles up at him.
“Good, ‘cause I wouldn’t leave without you.”
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spacebarbarianweird · 6 months
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Astarion with gnome Tav HC?
Ok, we all know Astarion hates gnomes. And his facial expressions during the first date if you play Gnome Tav are priceless. Like, he doesn't smile and definetely does his best trying to hold back slurs.
I have been to his shoes coz I found gnomes weird and freaky. To write this Headcanon, I read manuals about them and got to this description:
It’s rare for a gnome to be hostile or malicious unless he or she has suffered a grievous injury. Gnomes know that most races don’t share their sense of humor, but they enjoy anyone’s company just as they enjoy everything else they set out to do. It’s rare for a gnome to be hostile or malicious unless he or she has suffered a grievous injury. Gnomes know that most races don’t share their sense of humor, but they enjoy anyone’s company just as they enjoy everything else they set out to do.
And then I googled gnomes.
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Honestly, if you think gnomes are ugly - you've met the wrong gnomes!
Thanks @evillittlebirdie for the next concept
A gnome that hates elves and an elf that hates gnomes
Masterlist
Headcanons
Astarion x Gnome!Tav
You are tiny, only 3.2 ft.
All your life you spent far from "big folk", living deep in the woods.
But you were always warned against the elves, those arrogant pricks who think the world belongs to them.
Astarion… hates gnomes. It's not uncommon for elves to be weird about them but he has some personal issues.
Maybe it's his "brother's" fault, maybe some dating preferences.
"Dwarves are fine, but gnomes! Freaky and ugly."
You can't understand where this comes from.
Gnomes are peaceful. Kind. Never malicious to anyone. Always accepting strangers in their homes and caves. So why is your kind so hated?
You bicker but eventually you fall for Astarion's charms (and he suppresses his disgust to seduce you).
Maybe elves aren't that bad, after all.
And Astarion suddenly realizes he isn't averted by you.
Tiny. Yes. You are barely tall enough to reach up to his hips.
But you are cute. Beautiful, even.
Like a small elf.
Finally, Astarion confesses to you.
That he manipulated you. That he used you.
And what is worse, he hated the mere idea to touch you. As if you were some nasty creature.
Like a goblin.
He apologizes for that and is waiting for your verdict.
He expects you to yell. To curse him.
You do nothing of that. You approach Astarion and hug him.
Well, for him you are the most beautiful person in the world.
To kiss you, he has to kneel (or pick you up like a child)
You were embarrassed first to be carried around - besides, you are considered "tall" by gnome standards!
But you learn to like it. Your weight is 40 pounds and Astarion can carry you on his shoulders as long as you want
And, the hells, you enjoy it!
Firstly, because Astarion can go faster and longer if you don't slow him down, and, second, you can see the world around not being blocked by taller people.
When you go like that, you play with his curls and carefully touch his ears (it's impossible to resist when you are so close).
He loves your feather-like touches.
He still laughs at your height, though
"Oh, I am sorry I can't hear you from up here!"
"Apologies, darling, I thought someone was squeaking!"
And you wait for the opportunity to mock him for heing the tall one.
"Oh, I am sorry, I forgot I travel with a brainless giant!"
As a gnome, your desire to help is innate. It's just against your nature to deny someone's needs.
And more often than usual, Astarion has to carry you away before you agree on something too dangerous or too cheap.
"I am Astarion and this is my micro-wife. Ouch!"
When you stay together in taverns and inns, you don't have to pay for two beds - a single bed fits you both.
And Astarion always presses you to his chest - you drown in his arms. You feel safe and protected.
Sometimes, you hear mockery and evil laughs.
"An elf and a gnome, can you fucking believe it?"
You usually let these words go but Astarion doesn't.
He beats those who dare speak ill of you two and makes them kneel and beg for forgiveness.
Gnomes live long, up to 400 years. And you are young. As a gnome, you want a stable home (when you get tired of travels) and somewhere to stash things.
And you understand Astarion craves stability as well - so he will get it with you.
A comfy home in the woods among your kind.
Gnomes are accepting, after all.
Even if it's a vampire.
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati
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ghouljams · 11 months
Note
Hi can I pls make a request for our resident nasty boy König? Can we see him and Leibling on a date? She’s vehemently denying it’s a date while he’s just looking at her w heart eyes
Absolutely, absolutely you can. Here's their first date that Liebling insists was not a date.
"Fuck I am starved," You groan, laying your head against the counter. You shouldn't have skipped lunch, but the shop was so busy you didn't have a moment to sit down. König's big hand strokes your head sympathetically, warm and heavy, you pout so he doesn't think you're enjoying it.
"We could get dinner," He says, something silver and hopeful at the edge of his voice. Your hunger encourages you to ignore it. Dinner would be good, you like dinner. König hums like he can hear what you're thinking. He does that sometimes, makes you think he can read your mind.
You try to think of what would be good for him. König doesn't take his hood off, and though you're not sure the reasons behind that, you're not going to ask him to. So, something easy for him. You grumble to yourself, everything you want to eat seems like it would be a hassle for him. His thumb rubs the crease in your brow, easing you to stop scrunching your face.
"What do you want to eat?" You ask him, glancing up past his fingers. His eyes flash with something wild and dangerous before softening, you sort of like that, makes you feel all gooey inside.
"I'm not picky," He pulls his hand away, you almost miss the weight of it. "Let's get Chinese, you want noodles." König goes to turn the lights out in the back as you sit up to grab your keys. Bastard really is reading your mind, how often does he do that?
You get takeout, mostly because König looked nervous standing in the restaurant. You only laughed a little at his panic trying to figure out what to order, and insisted on paying because you're really not sure the fae even have human money. They never buy anything in your store, so you've made some assumptions.
You end up walking back to your flat on pure autopilot, too hungry to think of anything but getting seated and eating as fast as possible. König follows you, of course, which you'd be more concerned about if he didn't already know where you live and regularly follow you home. You should really talk to him about that, he doesn't really have stalker vibes but boundaries are still important. You'll do that later. You hold your door open for him and he freezes.
"Oh," you blink, not sure why you did that.
"Are you inviting me in?" His eyes are so big and hopeful, you feel like you can't say no.
"I guess I am." His hand presses over yours to hold the door as he passes through. You feel a slight pop in your ears, like a plane cabin being pressurized.
König swallows your entryway, impossibly big, an all encompassing presence that you can't take your eyes off of for fear it won't be the same when you look back. It's like he's trying to fill every corner, every speck of your vision, of your home. He smells like the forest after it rains, like wet dirt and decaying wood, like something earthy and primal that you lost when you moved to the city. You blink, and it's just König the same as he always is, staring at you like you hung the moon and every star in the sky.
"This is like a date," He says and you forget everything he just was in favor of your embarrassment. Your cheeks burn, your ears rapidly following them in lighting up red.
"It's not a date." You tell him quickly. He tips his head to the side, eyes smiling and patient.
"It could be."
"It's not."
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itsmealaiah · 5 months
Note
Hii!! Idk if u have done a enemies to lovers smut with bill? If u did then u don’t have to do this request! But just to say ur writings r so good 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
aw thank you 😊 ❤️ of course
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You're mine, pretty girl (2008 Bill x Fem Reader)
Summary: After a terrible concert for the band, Bill blames you entirely, taking his anger out on you in the best way he could.
Tags/ warnings: dom! Bill, corruption, degrading, claiming, hardcore smut, begging, fingering.
MDNI (prob my most r rated one tbh)
My heart skipped a beat as I heard Bill's voice echo through the empty arena. I knew he was pissed, and I knew I was in trouble. I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like sandpaper as I tried to make sense of what was happening. It had been a rough concert, with our band arguing onstage and off. But I never thought Bill would take it out on me like this.
He stormed into the dressing room, slamming the door behind him and immediately locking it. My stomach flipped as I watched him pace the floor, his shoulders tense and his fists clenched. "You," he growled, pointing a shaky finger in my direction. "You're the reason everything went to shit tonight."
I gulped, feeling a chill run down my spine. Bill and I had never been close, even though we were in the same band. He was the lead singer, and I played the keyboard. But lately, our relationship had been strained, to say the least. We hadn't been getting along, and tonight's show had only made things worse.
"You think you can just walk all over me?" he demanded, stalking closer. His brown eyes blazed with anger, and I could feel the heat radiating off his body.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "Bill, I-"
But before I could finish my sentence, he grabbed me roughly by the shoulders and threw me onto the couch. "You're going to pay for what you've done," he snarled, straddling my body. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."
His weight pressed down on me, his breath hot and ragged against my ear. "You're going to beg for my cum, you hear me?" He squeezed my breasts roughly through my top, and I winced in pain. "And you're going to beg for it hard, you little bitch."
His hands slid down to my hips, tugging my skirt up around my waist. I could feel the cool air on my bare skin as he yanked my underwear down as well, leaving me completely exposed to him. "And then," he growled, "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."
With that, he lowered his head, capturing one of my nipples between his teeth. I cried out, arching my back involuntarily, as he suckled hard. His other hand found its way between my legs, roughly parting my folds and finding my aching clit. He circled it with his fingers, teasing me mercilessly. "You're so wet for me," he purred, his voice low and dangerous. "Just like I knew you would be."
I couldn't believe what was happening. Bill had always been possessive, but this was on a whole new level. And as much as I hated to admit it, I was starting to feel the familiar tug of arousal between my legs. His rough touch, his demanding words, they were turning me on in a way I could never have imagined.
"That's it," he groaned, picking up the pace on my clit. "You like this, don't you? You like knowing that you belong to me." His free hand slid up my thigh, parting my folds further and positioning his thick, hard length at my entrance. "And now," he growled, "you're going to feel how much you belong to me."
With a force that took my breath away, he thrust into me. I cried out, arching my back off the couch as he buried himself to the hilt, claiming me completely. His thrusts were powerful and unyielding, driving into me over and over, making it impossible to catch my breath.
His hands held me down, his body pinning me to the couch as he took what he wanted, claiming his dominance. And despite myself, despite everything that had happened, I couldn't help but feel the pleasure building inside me, spiraling out of control. "Yes," I gasped, my voice barely audible above the pounding of my heart. "Yes, Bill, I'm yours."
His thrusts grew more frenzied, his breath hot against my ear. "That's it," he growled. "That's my good girl." His hand slipped between us, finding my clit once more, and began to circle it expertly. I arched my back off the couch, crying out as the sensation overtook me, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my veins.
"You like that?" he asked, his voice rough with desire. "You like how I make you feel?" His thrusts became deeper, harder, each one driving him deeper inside me, making me feel completely and utterly claimed. I couldn't think straight, couldn't form coherent thoughts as my body surrendered to the sensation, to the raw power that radiated off him in waves.
With one hand, he gripped my hip, holding me still as he pumped into me, his thrusts steady and sure. With the other, he trailed his fingers down my stomach, teasing the sensitive skin beneath my navel. "You belong to me," he growled, his lips brushing against my ear. "You always have."
The feeling of being so completely owned, so utterly claimed, was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once, and as he continued to take me with brutal precision, I couldn't help but wonder if this was what it meant to truly surrender.
Bill's grip on my hip tightened, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pounded into me, his body moving in perfect rhythm with mine. I could feel the tension building inside him, feel the way his muscles bunched and flexed as he fought to maintain control. His other hand found its way up my body, cupping my breast, pinching my nipple roughly between his fingers.
"That's it," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "That's how much you belong to me."
The words sent a shiver down my spine, a mixture of fear and arousal that I couldn't begin to understand. But as he continued to claim me, his rough hands and demanding words fueling my desire, I felt myself losing control.
He pulled me onto his lap, my legs straddling his hips as he gripped my waist, holding me close. His other hand found its way between us, teasing my swollen folds as he pushed two fingers inside me. I arched my back, moaning at the sensation of being so filled, so possessed.
His free hand held my head back, his grip firm but not painful as he looked down at me. "You know what you've done, don't you?" he growled. "You've made me want you. You've made me want this. And now there's no going back." His thumb brushed across my lower lip, tracing the outline of my mouth. "You're mine, and I'm never letting you go."
A/n: holy crap. I did that. YAY!! thank you for the request love ✨ 😘
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d0youc0py · 1 year
Note
if you take requests, could you do price with someone who’s overall so sweet and kind and really chatty and energetic & is a big hall of sunshine?
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“Then after I attached a little water bottle to it so he can drink whenever he wants! Especially when the weather starts heating up I don’t want him to get sick or something.” You babbled on. You had not stopped once since he got home. Price loved it. When he was away on missions he would often play scenarios like this over and over in his head to fall asleep. You curled up in his lap, him having a whiskey, while you told him about all the things he missed while he was away. He was practically mush in his chair as you rested your head against his chest, your fingers tracing up and down the veins on his arm. He figured this was the closest to heaven he was gonna get.
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“Where’s Y/N?” Soap asked as soon as Price walked through the door. Price rolled his eyes and moved to the side, looking down at your smiling face.
“Y/N!” The boys cheered. They brushed past Price practically stumbling over each other as they chatted you up. He chuckled to himself and closed the door behind him. It was no secret that everyone you met developed a soft spot for you, this including the 141 team. One time Price came without you to a small get together and he was literally forced into his car to go back home and get you. Not that he was complaining.
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He was against you visiting him at the base for a long time. He didn’t want to see you get hurt. The first time you did though, he cursed himself for missing out on a wonderful opportunity for so long. Turns out you make a pretty decent Drill Sargent. You had those boys running all over the place. The sweet tone of your voice made it impossible for them to refuse anything you ask of them. Price would actually consider it the most successful day of training they had ever had.
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“Do you ever think I’m too much?” You mumbled. His brows furrowed and the hand that was rubbing your back stopped abruptly. “Like I’m bothering you?”
“What makes you say that?” He asked quietly, pressing you even closer to his body. He knew he didn’t do anything to make you think that. You shrugged and buried your head in his neck. His mind jumped to the worst. Someone had been mean to you. His body heat went up a few degrees just thinking about it.
“I don’t know.” Your lips brushed his skin making his hair stand up.
“Yes you do.” He said quickly. His hand patted your bottom then went back to rubbing circles on your back.
“Sometimes I realize that I just talk the whole evening and you don’t even get a word in. Then sometimes you come back from work and I know how tired you are and I can’t even stop myself from bouncing off the walls. I really don’t understand how you put up with me John.”
He wondered for a split second if he was having a heart attack with the pain that just shot through him. He sat up, taking you with him. He kept you on his lap, his hands holding your face making sure you were paying attention to what he was about to say.
“I don’t put up with you.” He had his captains voice on. “If I was annoyed or bothered by you I wouldn’t have put that pretty ring on your finger, would’ve I?” He hummed, grabbing your hand kissing the diamond on it. “Get out of your head, love.” He leaned back down, taking you down with him resting his chin on your head. “You’re everything to me, you know.”
The weight on your shoulders dissipated and you snuggled into him. He had never been one for words, and it was times that this you appreciated that- knowing he was telling you the truth. “Thank you.” You mumbled, already feeling sleepy.
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He has never been one for chatter himself but he always indulges you and makes sure you know he is listening
He absolutely melts when you display any kind of sweetness towards him
He always returns the favor by spoiling you back
He sees himself as your backbone- making sure you are never taken advantage of and your kindness isn’t wasted on someone who won’t appreciate it.
Sometimes he struggles to keep up with you (he can more than keep up in the areas that count;) ) but when you decide to rearrange the living room at 10pm he’s already in his PJs you’re on your own
He takes a lot of pride in the fact that everyone thinks your sweet and genuinely enjoying being around you. He’s very “trophy partner” and is constantly bragging about you to other people
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myabsurddreamjournal · 7 months
Text
Fate (Part 3)
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Soldier boy x Fem! reader
Summary: Reader is a scientist who is forced to work at lab that they keep soldier boy frozen, she talks and cries to him when she is alone, thinking he can't hear her but he hears everything.
her head was on something comfortable and warm, gentle fingers were brushing her hair. Her mother used to this after certain days, when her mind became so loud, all she could think about were the bad thoughts, the things she saw on the news, the things she heard from radio while sitting on the school bus, that dead body of a fox in the road, crushed by a car.
They haunted her. All her life, Even as a child she knew something was wrong with her, because unlike her, none of her friends were in constant fear and sadness. No matter what she did, Laughing or crying, big part of her was always thinking that she wasnt meant to be in this world.
that this world was wrong.
Fingers were on her cheek now, caressing it softly. She chased it with her head,
-"You sure resembe a kitty"
what?
this wasnt her mothers voice.
She opened her eyes in shock, A very familiar face with green eyes was looking down on her.
-"S-soldier boy!?"
-"I was afraid that you hit your head too hard back there"
Suddenly she was aware of sharp ache on the side of her head. But there was something else, her head, it was in his lap! heartbeat starting to speed up, she tried to stand up but his hand on her shoulder prevented it.
"Don't." he said sternly. "You need to lay down for a while"
"O-Okay.."
"H-how? " i mean w-what happened? where am i?"
"in a plane, we are going back to U.S."
she looked at him confusedly.
"You passed out back there, i carried you." he added.
upon hearing this, she looked at the surroundings, giant boxes and packets were everywhere. No seats were in sight. "must be a cargo plane" she thought. But why did she passed out?
she tried to recall past few hours, the sirens, and gunshots, the tall guy telling her to wake him up,
the last thing she remember was throwing that damn ashtray, then..
Him saying her name.
how could he know that?, it was impossible
"it could only happen if he was.." told a voice inside her.
suddenly, a horrible feeling started to form in her gut.
-"h-how do you know my name" she asked with a trembling voice, Praying that answer wouldnt be the one she expected.
-"i heard everyhting you told me."
For a few seconds, she was silent, the weight of what she just heard making her dizzy.
She tried to fight the feeling, not wanting to be so weak in front of him.
But when his hands started to stroke her hair again, her eyes became glassy, she closed them, tears falling on her cheeks,
she couldnt believe it, didn't want to believe it, all this time he was there, hearing her while she was crying and telling everything about her life to him, apologizing to him.
Admiring to him.
Taking his blood. Poking him with needles.
he was aware of everything they did.
She was sobbing now, trying to be quiet, she covered her face with hands but soldier boy pulled them away moments later,
-"Why are you crying doll?" he asked,
-"B-because i-i always found solace at the thought, that you were not in pain anymore, that you were asleep so you couldn't feel it." I never wanted to do the things they told me, the thin-
she couldnt finish because he lifted her chin with his finger, making her look at his eyes directly.
she gasped at what she saw, his green eyes,
they were burning, burning with rage.
she could almost see the flames in them, like in her dreams. The dreams she had since she was a child.
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he leaned towards her and slowly took her arm in his hand, looking at the burn mark there.
-"they will pay for what they did." He said,
-"To you and me."
Notes: I hope you guys liked it! your comments are really important to me, also, do you guys also hate the world? Always feel free to talk to me :)
taglist: @deans-spinster-witch @mfnqueen1 @ponypickle @butchers-girl @verypostcrown
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cryptidcorners · 6 months
Text
Suit & Tie - Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader [ 100 Follower Special ]
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Description: You've been stood up on a blind date you were deathly excited for. Miserable and smeared with disappointment, you decide to visit Mike to cool your frustrations—though, it looks like you aren't the only one having a hard night.
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Media: FNaF!Movie
Character: Mike Schmidt
Tags: 100 Follower Special, Hopeless Romantic!Reader, Rough Night, Fluff, Romantic, Friends to Lovers, Confessions, Lots of Kissing, Sweet Talk, Flirting, Shy/Awkward + Tease!Mike, Slice of Life, Domestic, Mike being a Sweetheart.
No Warnings.
read my TOS + Mike Schmidt Masterlist
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It was one of the worst nights of your life.
You had fixed yourself a wispy, rich fit for your blind date. As well as saving up enough to pay and have some leftovers to indulge in last-minute activities. Blinded by excitement, you had prepared too much for your own good, and ended up waiting in your booth until after hours. Wrecked with frustration, you began to march outside to hook a taxi driver to drive you home silently. Only to realize a storm you hadn't expected muddied up the roads and made it almost impossible for someone to risk their time for a hopeless romantic like yourself.
So, now you were straying along the lines streets lightly flooded with blankets of darkened rainwater that were filling your shoes and weighting your fabrics. Disaster unveiled within your already distressed twister of a mind, as well as regret and heartbreak. You felt like an oblivious character thrown into the spotlight with a single to be humiliated and ragdolled. You couldn't believe your date had done that. All those bubbly giggles across the phone line, smooth walks in the park. You hugged yourself in an attempt to warm your frosted skin, as well as applying some solo comfort. Hot breaths tunneled out of your throat desperately to challenge your aches, blowing on your timid hands didn't give you a lick of justice. Nor hope.
How badly you wanted to go home and sink into a mindless of blue-screened entertainment from your glitching television to forget everything. To just pass away after all this cruel effort and embarrassment.
Had you really felt so connected to your date? To somebody you'd talk to over a table dressed with scarlet and a vased batch of yellow tulips within the center? Did you think it would work? To click with somebody—it felt so foreign, so alien, so unreal. You hardly knew them, but you still made the glorious effort to fall into available arms at any chance. To be cradled lovingly, to be covered in soft kisses, to be cared for. Would you ever find that?
Your eyes narrowed as tears mixed in with the shower above the black sky. Would you?
As silence crept into your conscience, you heard a voice thorned into your attention. You jolted up, eyes flickering like some startled deer. You wondered if you had imagined it, and your energy halted. 
“—Hey! What are you doing outside?” Your eyes veered towards a tall house, drenched in shadow and fog. It was Mike, calling your name. Suddenly, you felt your heart throb intensely, from not only the sight of him, but from embarrassment. You chewed your lip at the thought of Mike strolling past his dripping windows and seeing your figure, head down getting soaked by the rain. You could draw him being incredibly startled in your head. 
“Hey?” Mike echoed. “You’re soaked! Come—Get over here!” Now knowing you couldn’t ignore his signals to warm hospitality, you sailed across the street. Almost limping as you felt incredibly uncomfortable at the feel of mushy socks growing heavy in your pooled shoes. You huffed, scrambling up the steps to meet Mike’s gaze. His wear was surprisingly lacking that cozy picture you had seen so many times. Instead, he was sharp. Ruffled curls now backed and silky, face lightly shaved and his wear neatly ironed. Your face flushed nervously, “Hey. Hey, how are you?” You sheepishly smiled. It was a pathetic attempt to look grounded, but you couldn’t help yourself. Feeling vulnerable in front of him tugged you in a way you couldn’t explain, as if you had to impress him somehow.
Yet, despite his golden appearance, he looked defeated, and heartbreakingly exhausted. You desperately wanted to kiss his pain away, or see his face light up with that infectious grin you could never mentally shut up about. Mike stepped aside, inviting you inside. “Don’t worry about me just yet. Come inside,” he said and once you entered, Mike unleashed a concern lurking in his mind, “weren’t you supposed to be on a date? A—what’s it called? A blind date?” 
“A blind date.” You confirmed, eyes awkwardly flicked on the mud and storm you were dragging on his hardwood. Mike noticed and stammered quickly, “I can get you a towel, or something. Coffee?” He scrambled quickly to his kitchen, flicking on the light after holding onto your gaze for much longer than he wanted. Before you could speak, you could already hear the flicker of the stove. Mike called over, gripping a bag of coffee beans that was light from great useage. You wanted to deny, but you were too broken to push aside such an offer. With a slim exhale, you answered shyly, “That’d be nice, thank you.” 
As the smell of brew calmed your senses, you relaxed on one of the dining room chairs. Mike turned back to you, smiling, “Right, so. What happened? I thought you wouldn’t be here until midnight?” His gaze hung to the bubbling coffee in the pot, opening up the cabinets to prepare a decorated cup. “Was the date early? Oh, traffic?” 
“No, oh God, no.” You huffed, “I got stood up.” you said casually, and you heard something clatter from the surprise. Mike immediately turned to you, shocked. Without the context, you would probably laugh at his dumbfounded expression. You cleared your throat, “It’s—fine, really. We didn’t even know each other that well,” 
Mike poured the coffee with his eyes occasionally flickering towards you. “I’m so sorry.” 
“It’s fine,” 
“No, really.” Mike approached, “Here–,” and you whispered your thanks. “I just didn’t expect you to get up like that, you know? And you had to walk home? I could drive you back after you get dried up, you know it’s never a problem for me.”
You breathed heavily, “Thanks, Mike. But, I think I’ll be walking home. You’ve already made me coffee.” you humored. “I think I’ll be fine.” Despite the feel your cup resembling cinder against your fingertips, you still swallowed and cringed at the heat. Though, it pumped some warmth through your veins despite lightly damaging your throat.
Then, you felt your skin grow hot as he leaned close to you. “I insist.” Typically, Mike getting close to you wasn't all that rare, it was just something he did. Though, tonight felt different. “I’ve had a rough night too, and me helping you could make us both feel better.” He explained, “Of course, you don’t––you don’t have to. I’m just, suggesting.” Mike pulled away.
You were fond of his quick rambling, so this question was plastered with a smile, “So, what happened to you, handsome?”
“Fired.” He stated.
“What?” You coughed, regretting your playful tone in a flash. “Mike, that’s horrible!” That explained why he looked like that. His gaze washed, “I know, but, I have a lot of other numbers in my cabinet. I could look, they seem to pay well.”
He sat next to you, “It’s not as bad as what happened to you, though. I haven’t even told Abby yet.” Mike sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Mike,” you were shocked. “Don’t compare what went down tonight for you, that’s—terrible, I can’t even grasp how sorry I am for you.” You cleaned your coffee-stained lips. Mike’s eyes had been particularly hyper focused on your expressions, your body language, your lips. Just to name a few. Mike shrugged as you leaned forward slightly, “I guess we didn’t get what we wanted.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that.” Mike suggested. You were immediately confused, “What do you mean?” you hadn’t realized how quiet everything had gotten. Even the rain pitter patting against the window had no affect, it was only you and Mike. Paired up with your warm breathing. Mike’s eyes, for once, were maintaining contact. “I mean, I can still tell you how I feel. Like, how pretty you are. And how much I wish I could give your date a piece of my mind right now.” His laugh had always enchanted you. There was something so healthy and wonderful about it. It sounded as if nothing terrible happened to him, that he was content. Mike’s face flushed, “I’m sorry, am I going too far?” he asked breathlessly. As if he weren't tearing you to shreds right here and there. If he knew he was such a tease you doubt you'd be the victim of so many oblivious moments where you swore you were going to faint due to Mike's antics.
You whispered as your tone grew intimate, "No. It looks like you have more to say,"
"Well, I can say whatever you want me to." Mike's voice mirrored yours, and he dragged his chair. Your legs were touching, yet you pretended not to notice. You knew you were so lovesick, and that you could possibly be romantically interested in your best friend. The man that had always been there for you. His attitude was a flux, and Mike was raising his head with a sluggish grin as if he were surprised he uttered such a line. Which somehow made him more desirable in your world.
"I won't tell you anything. You need to tell me honestly." You toyed, "I know you're holding back."
Mike exhaled, "You know you're opening a door you can't close, right?"
"Maybe I want the risk." You tried to stay stable, "Who said I was scared?"
"Nobody."
"You looked like you were implying it, Mike."
He answered with a low chuckle, "So, you aren't going to run away?" Mike's face was dangerously close now. You could taste his breath, his skin was fresh with cheap cologne and lavender soap. Paired up with his lazy gaze and tired voice. It was enough to drive you to the edge, and you could barely muster a reply. "No."
He was so desperate for your approval, the moment you shook your head and opened your mouth, Mike was already smothering you gently. You melted into the kiss, your wet clothes and skin dimming onto his neat fit. Mike's hands were secure around you, obviously testing the waters and going slow. Meanwhile, you were needy. And desperate. And a little new. Both of you were, but that was the magic wasn't it? You had always prayed Mike would be the first person you would kiss. Even if it didn't cradle romantic context. You just wanted him. His giggles, his kisses, his kindness, his love. You wanted his love more than anything it hurt your heart how much, your passion burning in your gut.
You were both growing tired of sitting, so you stood up, growing handsy and messy. It wasn't until Mike found your neck, you folded. Before you could sink into pure joy in the moment, Mike pulled away, gasping. "I'm sorry, you're just standing. Are you okay?"
"More than okay,"
"Well, good, because I—" you cut him off, dragging him by only his tie and your lips to his couch. Passion stirred within the air as you began to unveil his collar and pepper his throat. Where, surprisingly, he was most ticklish. Mike was giggling the whole time, while also growing antsy. You had no concept of how long you two were making out for. Maybe a couple minutes? An hour? You didn't care, even if it hurt your lips, you wanted to be with him. With Mike. Somebody who understood. Your eyes grew glossy as he pulled away, catching his breath while pathetically mumbling a: "I love you, so much. So, so, so much." Then, he brought you back into his eclipse of pleasure. Everything was blurring and the only way to detect a number was by counting all the red marks on his skin because of you. It was all because of you.
You were growing crazy, humming and chuckling as your mouth grew tired of sharing oxygen with him. Once it was finally over, Mike rested his ruffled up curls against your forehead. You were more or less the same. There was silence, until you delivered: "I'm in love with you too." And it had circled, all over again. His lips and hands were on yours, just like you wanted.
Then, you both really stopped. Mike was drinking up the air robbed away from him. He giggled, face bleeding from blush from his flustered expression. "I'm sorry just—give me a second, Lord. I'm gonna pass out."
"Take it easy." You joked and you rested his head on your chest. Your skin was still radiating from your fling, and you couldn't help but blush like a teenager when he gazed up at you, eyes dark with an obvious love for you. He felt the need to repeat, "I love you."
"God, love can't even top what I feel for you." You cupped his face, "But that being said, I'll always love you more."
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Text
Perfection
Self-Aware! Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Nikolai Gogol
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Description: A passing comment makes you feel terrible about yourself. Fyodor and Nikolai disagree.
Set between Surprise and Sick Day
Warning: OOC. Body Insecurity. Hateful thinking during eating. Rude comments. Reader have hateful thoughts about themselves. English is my second language.
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You were in one of the many fast food restaurants in your city. Today you have a movie night and need some snacks for that. You were waiting in line for your turn to make order. Meanwhile, you read the menu once again. Maybe, something new was added.
Movie night was time full of unhealthy food and different movies, starting with classic films and ending up with any trashy movie you could find.
Today you were going to watch a bunch of Halloween movies. "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" and "Ghostbusters" with everyone. And, after kids go to bed, you will watch "Bram Stoker's Dracula" just to hear Bram's comments about vampires and "Nightmare on Elm Street".
You knew, that tonight's going to be fun.
"Hello, how may I help you?" asked the cashier. They looked a little bit interested in everything, that happened around. You smile.
"Hello. I will have seven big buckets of fried wings and five big french fries. Thank you."
You took money from your pocket and put them on the counter. You knew, how much you need to pay, it wasn't the first time you made the order.
Cashier's eyes widen. He looked at you from head to toes. He mumbles.
"I-It will be ready in a few minutes..."
The cashier disappeared behind the kitchen's door. You start waiting. You decide to have a better look at some pictures, that were on the wall.
While you were looking at them, you heard hashed voices coming from the kitchen.
"What? Seven buckets of fried wings and five big french fries? Won't they burst?" said an unfamiliar voice.
"They immediately took the right amount of money from their pocket. It looks like this is not the first time they have made this order. It's quite obvious, really. Just look at their... cheeks... hands... stomach... Look at their everything!" The cashier from earlier answered.
You saw his reflection in the window. He was pointing at you and making some gestures in the air. Like he was trying to draw a sphere in the air.
You became still. You tried to tell yourself, that their opinion shouldn't matter, that they just bored and thought that you were an easy target.
"They looked like a balloon. A barrel with lard!"
You grit your teeth. Will you two stop and give me my order?
Finally, they became bored and returned to the kitchen. In a few moments, you finally got your order.
You glare at the cashier, but didn't say anything. Soon you will be home, having a good time with your friends.
You stomped away from the restaurant, holding bags with food in your hands. For one moment, you saw your reflection in the restaurant's window.
Your... cheeks do look chubbier.... And arms...
You hurry to the car. Kunikida was waiting for you.
You put bags on the back sit and sat on the front passenger seat.
You were silent on your way home.
You were staring at your reflection in the car window.
Were your cheeks always that chubby?
________
This evening was too cold for a summer evening.
So you decide to put on your jacket.
New jacket... That just month weeks ago was big to you.
New jacket, that now you could hardly put on you.
Small... It was small for you.
You decide, that you aren't that cold.
_________
The table in the living room were full of junk food.
Popcorn, nachos, tacos, chips, fried wings, french fries and soda drinks.
So tasty... So unhealthy...
...so much food, that will make you fatter...
The movie was on...
And each snack you ate felt like a rock in your stomach...
_________
After movie night was over, you locked yourself in your bedroom.
You take a better look at yourself in the mirror.
You have gained weight.
It was impossible, not to do it, while living with BSD Cast. Ivan was a good baker, Junchirou's cooking was amazing, Kenji could fry a steak better, than in any fancy restaurant, Kyouka's cooking make you want seconds, and it was impossible to say 'no' to food, that was cooked by Fyodor and Nikolai.
And how you can refuse to share snacks with Ranpo, or not have a tea party with Kirako and Naomi?
You decide to lose some weight... Do more exercises, then usual.
And ate less...
________
You manage to skip breakfast.
You just said that you were too tired and want to sleep some more.
They didn't ask you any questions.
You manage to skip lunch.
You pretend to be sleeping. Still.
You were forced to have dinner.
You couldn't sleep all day.
You are dinner with everyone. For dinner, you had mushed potatoes and pork.
You ate some mushed potatoes...
...your hips will be even wider...
You ate some pork..
... your stomach soon will look like you swallowed a globe...
You were smiling and talking with Atsushi, discussing last news...
And ate... Ate... Ate...
...they were right, you are a barrel with lard...
It takes your everything not to make yourself vomit after the dinner. If you didn't lose weight...
... soon they will leave a fat ball like you...
Everything is going to be okay... More exercises and less food... It will help...
________
For one week, you were trying to lose weight.
You train with Hunting Dogs even harder than before.
You didn't notice worried glances, that Teruko and Fukuchi cast at you. You didn't notice Jounou's attempts to make you rest. You didn't notice Tachihara's and Tetchou's hesitation, while they were exercising with you.
You didn't notice, that you looked less and less healthy.
_________
For one week, you skipped meals.
You find any excuse you could. Any reason you could find.
"I am not hungry" "Sorry, I need to finish something for my university" "I need to be somewhere right now, will have dinner in the city."
You choose to ignore worried glances.
You didn't manage to skip meals completely. You ate some fruits and vegetables every day. Not enough for a real meal.
You refused to have snacks with Ranpo. You choose to ignore, how hurt he looked, while hearing your 'no' for the third time in a week.
You refused to drink tea with Kirako and Naomi. You choose to ignore their questions, if they did something wrong.
You ignored, that you became more and more weaker.
______
You were banned from going to the training area. Something about you needing some rest and stop overworking yourself.
You could protest, but Gide and Verlaine, who were guiding the entrance to the training area, didn't look even slightly interested in hearing your arguments.
You couldn't do anything, so you return home.
And you immediately were greeted by Nikolai and Fyodor. Kolya grinned.
"Hey, [Y/N], let's have some lunch! I made pampushky¹ and Fedya made borscht! You will like it!"
Borscht and pampushky...
... even more fat...
... what if, back in May, Fyodor only asked to cuddle with you, because you were fat and warm, and he was cold?...
You lick your lips and mumbles.
"I can't... I must go to the library... In university library..."
Fyodor and Nikolai stared at each other.
Fyodor spoke. His voice was soft.
"Myshonok... Today is Sunday."
You close your eyes. What reason... Any reason...
You opened your mouth, trying to say something else, when a small bun was carefully shoved into your mouth.
"Here, Birdy, try it.... Please, just eat something..." Nikolai's voice sounded pleading.
You want to spit it out. But you had no other choice, but chew.
Fat pig... Hideous creature... You can't even hold yourself together...
You swallowed.
Before you can say something else, a spoon was put into your mouth.
Borscht... Warm soup... With meat and cabbage...
And sour cream...
"Myshonok, you need to eat. Stop starving yourself." Fyodor's voice was firm.
You will gain more weight... Even more clothes won't fit you...
You swallowed.
You looked at Nikolai and Fyodor. Both of them looked happy, that you ate at least one pampushka and one spoon of borscht.
And you despised yourself.
Nikolai took a step closer to you. He put his hands on your shoulders.
"Was it good? I sure, it was. I will bring another one... Oh, and a bowl of Fyodor's borscht! Just let me..."
You didn't know, what made you do this, but you were so close to screaming at Nikolai for giving you bread. You want to hurt Fyodor for forcing you to eat soup with sour cream.
hurt them hurt them them them make them pay say that you hate Them say that you hate them hurt them HURT YOURSELF
SAY THAT YOU HATE THEM
You open your mouth...
...hate them for what? For being your friends? For sticking around? For spending time with you? For worrying about you?...
...When was the last time you ate? Have a full meal and not a piece of apple? When was the last time you spent time with others? Were you even talking to Hunting Dogs while training? Did you say 'hello' to them...
You let out a quiet sob.
And immediately were pressed against Fyodor's chest. He draped his coat over you.
"Коля, я сейчас пойду и поговорю с Мышонком. Пора докопаться до правды. Сможешь сделать так, чтобы нас не побеспокоили?²" Fyodor's voice was calm. His grip was strong. You heard Nikolai's voice.
"Я це зроблю. Вас ніхто не потурбує.³" He sounds... worried. He stepped closer to Fyodor and lift the coat.
"Please... I miss you..."
He softly rubbed his cheek against yours and stepped away.
Fyodor's coat were once again draped over you.
You didn't resist, when Fyodor start leading you somewhere.
_____
The door closes behind you.
Fyodor removed his coat.
Both of you were in your room.
Your breathing was hard.
Fyodor was just standing here. Looking at you.
He spoke first.
"Myshonok, what's going on? You haven't eaten for one week, you hardly talk to anyone. We are worried about you."
You didn't answer. You were just swallowing tears, that were running down your cheeks.
You feel Fyodor's breath on your ear.
"[Y/N], please, talk to me."
You finally found your voice.
You told him about cashiers. About your sweater. About your insecurities. About hating yourself for eating food. About wanting to hurt Kolya and him just moments ago.
When you finish talking, only your sobs were heard.
Fyodor carefully squeezed your shoulders.
"[Y/N], everything about you is perfect. You are perfect, both inside and outside."
Your eyes met with Fyodor's purple eyes. They were so soft, so full of hidden affection. His hands cupped your cheeks.
"You aren't disgusting. You should not change because of some random person comments. And you only hurt yourself. You were almost starving all this week, you stopped talking to any of us. You try to make as many exercises as Tetchou normally do!"
Fyodor put his face closer to yours.
"Please, don't hurt yourself. If you feel down, just came to any of us. We all love you and want you to be happy. And for me..."
He kissed your cheek.
"For me, you are nothing less, than a perfection."
His eyes were so warm. You sobbed and hide your face in his chest.
He was warm. His embrace was everything you need right now.
"I... I..." you can't form a full sentence. Fyodor whispered, petting your head.
"Shhh... It's okay... It's okay... It will be okay..."
Fyodor took a step back, without breaking the embrace. He opened the door. You hear footsteps.
Now you were hugged by Fyodor and Nikolai at the same time.
Now you were sure, that everything is going to be fine.
_______
After you calm down, Fyodor, Nikolai and you had lunch together. It's not only was tasty, but very filling.
Then you three had a movie marathon. You were nested between Fyodor and Nikolai. A large bowl of popcorn with butter, salt and caramel was placed on your lap. It was tasty.
You had dinner with everyone. They were so happy, seeing you again. You felt, how the rest of your worries and sadness disappeared.
But, the last of bit of your sadness truly disappeared, when you were laying on your bed, in a middle of Fyodor and Nikolai cuddle sandwich. Your head were laying on Nikolai's chest. Fyodor's face were pressed against the back of your head.
Before drifting to sleep, you feel, how Fyodor kissed you on the back of your neck.
And whispered.
"Ты само совершенство, [Т/И].⁴"
______
1. Pampushky - a small savory or sweet yeast-raised bun or doughnut typical for Ukrainian cuisine.
2. Russian. "Kolya, I’ll go and talk to Baby mouse. It's time to get to the bottom of this. Can you make sure we won't be disturbed?
3. Ukrainian. "I will do it. No one will bother you."
4. Russian. "You are a true perfection, [Y/N]."
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