#he has friends who care about him not in spite of but BECAUSE of the things that define who he is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lostfracturess · 1 month

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I LOVEEE YOUR EX HUSBAND SUKUNA NICI, Since u love Gojo very very much, how about ex-husband Gojo? (He’s insufferable and petty)

sfw

ex-husband!gojo who was the happiest man on earth when you married him and took his last name. he couldn't picture his life, his future, without you at his side.

ex-husband!gojo who was the picture of a perfect partner, who surprised you with flowers "just because", who remembered every little thing you ever mentioned that you liked.

ex-husband!gojo who even remembered that offhand comment you made about wanting to try that new restaurant, and had reservations booked before you could blink.

ex-husband!gojo who loved to spoil you and planned regular weekend getaways – cozy cabin retreats, fancy city breaks, always something exciting and a bit over-the-top.

ex-husband!gojo who wasn't just your lover and friend, but also genuinely supportive. he was your biggest cheerleader, the one who believed in your dreams even when you doubted yourself.

ex-husband!gojo who slowly became consumed by his career. it wasn't spiteful, it was more like his ambition started to overshadow everything else in his life.

ex-husband!gojo who missed birthdays, postponed trips, apologized with those dazzling smiles that had lost a bit of their warmth.

ex-husband!gojo who couldn't fully understand why you weren't happy. he'd try to fix things with grand gestures, not realizing it wasn't the grandness you missed, just his presence.

ex-husband!gojo who fought the divorce with brute desperation. every conversation became a tangled mess of tears and accusations. but you knew it was more painful to stay.

ex-husband!gojo who still doesn't quite comprehend. he wants to try harder, be better – but it's too late.

ex-husband!gojo who, despite his own pain, loves you enough to set you free. he signs the papers, heartbroken, but knowing that your happiness is what matters most, even if it's not with him anymore.

ex-husband!gojo who threw himself into his career after the divorce. he never dated again after you, unable to imagine anyone replacing you in his heart.

ex-husband!gojo who, after two long years, unexpectedly runs into you somewhere and can't hide the brief flash of surprise and longing in his eyes.

ex-husband!gojo who still has that playful charm, but now there's a flicker of something deeper behind it – regret, maybe even a hint of vulnerability.

ex-husband!gojo who tries to keep things light, focusing on your career, asking safe questions, but his gaze keeps drifting back to your lips. he missed them so much, missed you, missed your touch.

ex-husband!gojo who admits that he never stopped caring about you. that seeing you again made him realize that, and he asked you out for coffee during your work break.

ex-husband!gojo who still remembers your coffee order, the way you fidget with your straw, the small dimple that appears when you offer a genuine smile. he still loves you so much.

ex-husband!gojo who, you fall into familiar rhythms of banter, sharing inside jokes, filling in the gaps of the last two years without dwelling on the painful parts.

ex-husband!gojo who listens intently. he genuinely cares about what you've been doing, your struggles and small triumphs. there's an apology in his eyes that he doesn't have to say out loud.

ex-husband!gojo who is thrilled, maybe even a bit smug, when you admit you haven't dated anyone since the divorce too.

ex-husband!gojo who offers you to drive you back to your workplace after. neither of you make a move to leave when you arrive at your workplace. he catches your eyes on him, catches your slightly parted lips.

ex-husband!gojo who shifts closer, the familiar scent of his cologne enveloping you. the quiet question evident in his eyes. that old boldness of him back that once captivated you.

ex-husband!gojo who doesn't wait for a spoken answer. he closes the distance, his lips covering yours in a kiss that's tentative at first, then full of pent-up longing.

nsfw

ex-husband!gojo whose hand reaches up to gently cradle your face, deepening the kiss as his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer and onto his lap in his car.

ex-husband!gojo whose hands begin to wander, exploring your body with a hunger that hasn't been fed in years. his hands cupping your breast under your shirt, his thumb brushing over your nipple.

ex-husband!gojo who pulls away for a moment, asking if you really want this, and when you nod, gives you a sly grin before reaching for the button on your jeans.

ex-husband!gojo who looks at you with hooded eyes, his erection straining against his pants as you reach for his belt, undoing it quickly before pulling down his zipper.

ex-husband!gojo whose cock springs free, long and thick and already wet at the tip. you stroke him slowly, watching as his hips buck towards your hand.

ex-husband!gojo who groans low in his throat as you take him inside you, filling you completely. you wrap your arms around his neck as he begins to thrust in and out of you.

ex-husband!gojo who whispers how much he missed you, how often he thought about you in the last two years, how often he jerked off thinking about you.

ex-husband!gojo who reaches down to rub your clit as you ride him, his moans getting louder and louder. his grip on you tight, trying to hold off as long as possible.

ex-husband!gojo whose rhythm falters as he feels you orgasm on his cock, his hand over your mouth to muffle the scream that threatens to leave your sweet lips.

ex-husband!gojo who felt himself close to release, and soon can't resist anymore, surrendering to the overwhelming sensations. with one final thrust, he comes inside you, collapsing onto your chest as he catches his breath.

ex-husband!gojo who pulls back slightly, panting heavily and sweaty as he looks into your eyes. his cum drips out of you and down between your legs, staining his car seat, but he doesn't care.

ex-husband!gojo whose touch is gentle as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face before pulling you in for another kiss.

ex-husband!gojo who, when he finally breaks away from your lips, asks if you'll meet him for coffee again, and smiles like a child when you say yes.

ex-husband!gojo who is determined to win you back, the love of his life, and prove to you that he's changed, that he can be the kind of husband you deserve.

ex-husband!gojo who wishes you a lovely afternoon at work and slaps you on the ass when you get out of his car.

author's note: ehhh they didn't turn out to be that insufferable and petty as you suggested, somehow couldn't think of anything that fit, hope you still enjoy them and thanks for saying you liked the sukuna headcanons. have a lovely day !! ♡

#gojo headcanons #satoru gojo #satoru gojo headcanon #gojo saturo #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo headcanons #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #gojo smut

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cemeterything · 28 days

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must know ur thoughts on chilchuck tims if you care to share them. he is so so interesting 2 me i need to like ??? trap him in a controlled environment and take ten pages of notes on his behavior

chilchuck!!! chilcharles. mr tims. i have soooooo many thoughts about him; i think he's got so much depth worth exploring in spite of being less of a focal character for much of the story. i also think it's both very funny and a little frustrating how often people take him at face value. which isn't to say that it doesn't make sense, because he works pretty hard to try to convince you to do so. but he's so much more complex than he makes himself out to be. the impression i got from him is that he's definitely been hurt in some extremely deep-cutting, personal ways in the past - not even necessarily by any particular individual, but definitely by the common misconceptions about half-foots based on their stature. endure enough discrimination, and you're not going to be placing your trust in anyone very easily, or allowing yourself to get too attached, especially when that discrimination focuses on how vulnerable and powerless you are comparatively. chilchuck denies his attachment to his friends and loved ones because it scares him; because he knows how easily it can be used against him. he's had no choice but to harden his heart because it's the only way to get people to take him seriously. he can't just drop his guard and let himself relax, no matter how nice and well-intentioned his companions may seem - those good intentions can do just as much, if not more, harm to him and his reputation. he has to have dignity, and if that means misrepresenting himself as a mean, hateful, bitter person who hurts others if they get too close to him, then better that than suffering the humiliation of helplessness again, or realising that he's been taken advantage of for all he's worth. he needs to prove to everyone how capable and self-reliant he is, so that he doesn't risk having that independence stripped from him. so he denies himself, and avoids personal questions, and acts tough, and lashes out. and then the touden party sees right through him, and they stay. they learn to respect his boundaries even if they don't always entirely understand them. they leave the door open for him. and eventually, with much coaxing and false starts and two-steps-forward-one-step-back hesitation, chilchuck allows himself to step across the threshold and open his heart to his desire to be loved again. which doesn't personally affect me in any kind of way because i have nothing at all wrong with me whatsoever.

#i love him so much. okay.#dunmeshi

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purple-babygirl · 2 months

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don't call me daddy V

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 4,660

Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.

Warnings: crying, age regression, fluff, a little angst

A/N: i would like to give credits for this part and its idea to🦊nonnie because without her ask there might've not been a fifth part to this story. Having said that, i'm thinking this should be the last part of the story because i am out of scenario your girl is empty. but anyway, please enjoy this one and have a tight hug xx💜💜

When they arrived back at her house, she was asleep in the passenger's seat.

Bucky didn’t want to wake her up. He knew she barely got any sleep last night because of the mean cough she was suffering from and so he carefully carried her inside without a word.

His heart kept speeding up every time he would remember what she called him after taking her shot as he slipped her feet out of her shoes and socks and tucked her in her bed.

He frankly had no idea what he would do if she was to wake up little and if he was ready to be a good daddy to her. What if he messed up again? He seemed to be a pro at that.

Luckily, when she woke up later that night, she was her big self again and didn’t seem to have any recollection of calling Bucky daddy, or if she did, she didn’t mention it.

Bucky gave her her cough syrup and the rest of the meds, helping her go back to sleep as he presumed his place on the floor by her bed.

In a way he couldn’t explain, even her coughs were more comfort than the silence at his house, and definitely more comfort than his nightmares.

It was 12 days of little sleep, a lot of crying, meds, movies and sleepovers until she was fully cured again, and even though Bucky hated that she was sick, those seemed to have been some of the best days he’s ever gotten to live since he’s come back to himself.

He got to laugh with someone, care for someone, comfort someone and enjoy the company of someone. And not just anyone; it was her.

But something was missing still.

Bucky wanted her to call him daddy. More than anything and from the bottom of his heart, he wanted to deserve that name, that role.

What Bucky had noticed in the days he’d stayed at her place was that she had no family pictures at all.

She had framed pictures of friends, of herself, of Corgi, but none of family members.

It didn’t come as a surprise because she’d mentioned it to him before, and he just knew that if he wanted to be her caregiver, her daddy, Bucky had to prove to her that he was nothing like those who’d hurt her. He had to prove himself worthy of taking care of her; set himself apart from them.

And to do that, he had to know more.

“I see no family pictures anywhere,” Bucky spoke as he helped her plant the new tulips she had in place.

“Yeah, we’re not close.” She shrugged, hand stuttering just the tiniest bit in their movements.

“Can I ask why?”

She sighed, “why?”

“I’m trying to learn from the mistakes of others.”

She laughed, “really?”

“Really.”

Oh, this wasn’t a joke?

“You know you don’t have to do that anymore, right?” She couldn’t understand why he would want to try again when the report was handed and he was let off the hook.

“I want to. I really want to.” Bucky wished his gloved hands weren’t muddy as they were so he could touch her face.

He found himself craving physical contact around her more often than not.

“You finally believe in the power of the program?” She teased, keeping her focus on the flowers she was rooting.

“No, I couldn’t care less about the institution and its programs.”

“Not even Mrs. Morrison?” She joked again.

“I’m serious, doll.”

“Why then?” She dropped the bulbs, deciding to face Bucky.

“I want it because it’s you I’ll be daddy to.”

“They never loved me for who I was.” She answered his previous question and Bucky felt a pang at his chest.

He had made her feel the same way.

He remained silent, not wanting to interrupt her in fear that she might stop.

“I always had to be a certain way, say certain things, act a certain way. Do what we say and then we’ll see if we can love you.”

Bucky might’ve been speechless, but his eyes spoke a million words, begging hers for forgiveness for his ignorant mistakes.

“That’s why it hurt so much when you showed me you didn’t accept the little version of me.”

“I’m so sorry-”

She shook her head, stopping him.

“I’ve been rejected for too long, Bucky, too many times. It took me a good while to finally believe that I was worth loving despite my quirks, ugly parts and possible mistakes. Took too long to teach myself that it didn’t matter if I cried all the time, was too clingy or too talkative; I was still lovable.” She pointed to her chest as she finished her words.

Bucky took his gloves off, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop himself anymore. He had no words, only anger and remorse raging inside his chest.

“It takes you a while to unlearn stuff you’ve been taught your whole life by the people who were supposed to love you the most.” She whispered into his shirt.

“Doll, I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered back.

“It’s okay.” She looked up at him, “I appreciate you, Bucky, I really do, but I don’t think I’m ready to lose everything I’ve built inside me if you decide in the middle of it that you weren’t fully ready to take on such a responsibility. I forgive you. I promise. But I don’t trust you enough to give up full control of myself and my life to you again. I’m sorry.” She pulled away from the hug, giving Bucky the option to walk away.

“Don’t be. I understand.” He remained in place.

“Are you gonna disappear now?” She wondered with a sad smile.

“No, you’re not getting rid of me so easily.” Bucky returned the smile, putting his gloves back on.

She smiled gratefully, “I don’t wanna lose you either. You’re such a great friend. And I owe you forever for taking care of me those past few days.”

“What if I prove myself to you though?” Bucky asked, dipping a tulip bulb in the soil.

“What?” She tilted her head in confusion.

“What if I show you how serious I am about this and prove myself worthy of you?”

“Bucky, you don’t have to do that. I know you have a life, responsibilities-”

“I want to do it. There’s nothing more important to me right now than this. And you.”

“If you’re doing this just because you can’t accept that you failed the program-”

“I swear on my ma’s soul, I want to do this. Because of you, doll. For you and with you.”

The words died on her tongue as she watched his sincere eyes implore hers.

“Would you give me a chance to prove myself to you? Please?”

“Okay, Bucky.” She swallowed, “one chance.”

“That’s all I need.” Bucky smiled.

She was not sick anymore and he didn’t have a reason to stick around. He also didn’t want to push her on the matter of regressing, so, respectful of her boundaries, he left.

After their conversation in the garden, Bucky had to go home.

His heart was heavy when he entered his empty apartment to nothing and no one. Being alone in here wasn’t something he enjoyed anymore.

It has been 2 days of intense research that Bucky has conducted on age regression and partners in little space when she texted him that night.

“Mr. Barnes, can you please come over?”

He wasn’t particularly happy about the fact that he was Mr. Barnes again, but he certainly was happy that she thought to text him when little. This was an improvement and it counted to Bucky.

“Will be right there, doll.” He texted back, running to his motorcycle.

Bucky took in a deep breath before knocking at her door, ready to prove himself a suitable daddy.

She opened with teary eyes, making Bucky’s heart sink.

“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked as he stepped inside.

“I can’t open the pickle jar and now my hands hurt,” she cried, showing him the insides of her palms and how red they were from trying so hard to twist the cap on the glass jar.

She was indeed a little worried that Bucky might find this stupid, that he might yell at her or get upset because she was crying over something minimal in his eyes.

But that wasn’t the case at all. The man was just thankful that she was alright.

“Oh, doll,” Bucky sighed in relief, glad that she wasn’t actually hurt.

Until he remembered that this was a big deal to her. Her hands hurt and she was frustrated because the cap wouldn’t budge.

Moments like these definitely required a daddy.

“I thought Mr. Barnes could help,” she sniffled, her hand wiping under her nose, “metal arm.” She touched his gloved hand.

Bucky chuckled, taking the pickle jar out of her hand, “what if I can do it without the metal arm? What would you give me in return?”

“The biggest pickle?” She offered, wiping her tears away from her eyes, her crying stopping at once.

Bucky laughed at her innocence, “no, I want something else, doll.”

She tilted her head expectantly.

What could Mr. Barnes possibly want? Did he want the whole jar? Would he at least leave her one pickle? She was craving pickles-

“I want you to start calling me Bucky again. No more Mr. Barnes. Can you do that for me, doll?”

Oh, that was something she could do.

“Only if you can open the jar with your not metal hand,” she challenged, her little mind amazed by the idea because look at her hand! It had red marks all over when she tried opening that jar.

“You got it,” Bucky said, easily twisting the cap on the jar open, making her mouth open with it.

“Woah,” she whispered as Bucky handed her the jar with a laugh.

“You’re welcome, doll.” He smiled, watching her chew on a crunchy pickle.

“Thank you, Bucky.” She smiled back, offering him a big pickle.

Bucky’s nerves tingled, knowing he was one step closer to her and his desired title.

Moving forward, Bucky learned to distinguish between her big self and little self through texts.

Her little self would always talk about him and herself in third person.

Plus, her big self always needed help with bigger things like needing Bucky to fix her sink or look at her car, knowing he might burn down the city if she went back to asking Adam for help with those things.

Her little self, on the other hand, would need help with the lighter things, the sweeter things. She would call asking for help with Corgi, something too high on a shelf or even just wanting Bucky’s company.

Tonight was one of those nights.

It was thundering more than usual and Bucky had wanted to go and be with her, but he didn’t want to invade her privacy.

But then she called and her scared voice saying his name had Bucky moving even before she uttered the words.

He was proud that she now knew that he was just only one call away; that he would come running whenever she needed. She could finally count on him to be there for her and he couldn’t be more contented.

He knew that consistency was important in relationships, especially one where she was little.

“Hey, doll, it’s okay. It’s just a little thunder,” Bucky cooed, rubbing her back as she let him inside.

“I’m not scared anymore now that Bucky is here.” She smiled, her breathing visibly slowing down.

“Well, I’m staying the night so you have nothing to worry about,” he chuckled, following her to the bedroom.

“Bucky covered his motorcycle?” she asked, worried his vehicle would get ruined.

“Leave that for now, we’ll hose it down together tomorrow when it’s sunny.”

“Corgi loves the hose,” she spoke out the first thought that came to her mind and Bucky loved it, laughing heartily at her comment.

The dog’s ears perked at the sound of his name, jumping at Bucky’s feet as soon as he entered the bedroom, waiting for his share of pets.

He bent down to give the dog some love when he heard her sigh.

“Corgi loves Bucky too.” She smiled shyly, internally wishing her name was Corgi.

“Bucky loves Corgi right back,” Bucky whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

She only smiled bigger, running to her bed and getting under the covers.

When Bucky got down to sleep on the floor that night, however, she slipped off her bed and right next to him.

“Doll, the floor is too cold for you. Sleep on your bed, come on.” Bucky sat up, wanting to help her up on the bed again but she wouldn’t move.

“Wanna be next to Bucky,” she said with a pout.

“But-”

“I know Bucky can’t sleep on beds. It’s okay. Doll will sleep here,” she told him, squeezing Wolfie in her arms.

Bucky’s heart fluttered and it made his mind light up with an idea only a true daddy would have.

“Do you wanna build a fort?” He suggested and her face instantly beamed with a smile as she nodded.

Of course she did!

That night as Bucky gathered all of her soft blankets to make her a floor mattress inside a fort full of fluffy pillows, he knew he was smitten.

This girl had him head over heels for her and there was nothing in the world that he wouldn’t do just to see her smile.

“Can Bucky please tell me a story?”

“Sure, doll. Do you have any books I can read to you from?”

“I have books that big me likes but I don’t want those.”

“What would you like then?”

“I want a story that is Bucky’s. Tell me a story you didn’t tell anyone at the institution.”

Oh, she was jealous. The thought made Bucky smile as he pulled the covers up to her neck to make sure she was warm down on the floor.

“Okay, you ready?” Bucky asked, dimming the lights in her room.

She made herself comfortable under the covers, big eyes watching Bucky’s handsome grin as the cozy atmosphere he’s created comforted her through the storm, “ready.”

“Once upon a time, there was a small idiot who picked up fights with boys much bigger than himself. His name was Steve…”

Bucky fell asleep with his hand stroking her hair, watching her soft breaths leave her chest that night without abruptly waking up in the middle of it for the first time in forever.

Bucky didn’t know what it was like to be her, but he was going to do his best to put himself in her shoes like she’d previously tried.

She deserved to be fully and entirely understood.

He witnessed a glimpse of her feelings towards the concept of family a couple of times when they would watch movies like The Lion King or Lilo and Stitch.

She didn’t seem to be affected by the death of Mufasa even though he knew her to be a very sensitive little. She was sad for Simba, of course, but not for Mufasa’s demise. Similarly with Lilo and Stitch, she didn’t care much about the concept of the family.

There was an actual barrier separating her from experiencing any positive feelings that came with the idea of family. Because she had none to associate with hers.

With some more research, Bucky managed to find a few animated movies that didn’t seem to revolve around the idea of family love and how family was everything and whatnot.

One of those movies was The Willoughbys. The movie depicted how neglecting some parents can be and that 2 people loving each other and getting married didn’t necessarily mean they would love their children too.

It was a very unique movie and Bucky was actually happy they could make such movies nowadays.

When the song I Choose You started playing in the movie, Bucky felt her small hand squeezing into a fist.

He silently wrapped his hand around hers, offering quiet comfort and support.

“Bucky chooses you, doll. Wholeheartedly.” Bucky reassured, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

He looked down to see tears in her innocent eyes as she showed her feelings for the first time during one of their movie nights.

“Bucky chooses me?” she croaked, lip trembling as she cried.

“I choose Bucky, too.” She pulled him down by one cheek to leave a kiss on the other.

Bucky froze.

It was the first time she’s kissed him since he applied that cream on her burnt hand back at his house. She did it on her own, too.

“And I choose Corgi,” she said, running her fingers through the hair of the puppy sleeping soundly on her lap.

“That’s right, and Corgi chooses you. Family doesn’t have to be the ones you were born with, doll,” Bucky told her as he wiped her tears away, “you can choose the family you want for yourself”.

“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him tight, afraid he might not be real and that this moment is all made up.

“You’re welcome, doll.” Bucky kissed the side of her head as they pulled away.

“Can I choose Adam, too?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper as she gauged Bucky’s reaction.

She could actually hear his chest rumble with a low “argh” before he nodded despite himself, making her giggle.

“Don’t worry. I only have one Bucky.” She reassured, slinging her arm around Bucky’s metal one.

One daddy, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. She was still scared.

Bucky knew that she needed her own independent time alone sometimes even when little, and he would allow her just that, texting throughout the day just to make sure she was okay, reminding her to drink water and take care of herself.

But there was one particularly hard weekend when she felt real down about some of her plants dying as the storm took them out of the ground.

When she opened the door she was clearly disheveled, hair all messy and looking like it hadn’t been brushed all week.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky spoke gently as he closed the door behind him.

She quickly ran into his arms, needing the comfort more than anything, “my plants are dead and Corgi peed on my new carpet and my hair doesn’t smell like shampoo anymore and I’m-”

Damn. She was spiraling. She just slipped out of his hug and on the floor. Oh no.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here now and I got you, okay?” Bucky tried his best to reassure her, getting on his knees before her to look into her eyes.

“Okay,” she hiccupped, nodding even though she wasn’t fully convinced.

“What happened to the plants?” Bucky wanted to handle her concerns one at a time.

“My apple trees were pulled out of place because of the storm,” she started sobbing again as she remembered what had happened to her hard word.

“Okay, okay, tell you what, I’ll put them back in place, okay?”

“Really?” She sniffed.

“Really.” Bucky smiled kindly.

“Okay.” She nodded, trying to control her breathing.

“And we’ll throw the new carpet in the washing machine, and keep Corgi in his playpen with pee pads,” Bucky gave her the steps of how the day was going to go, leading her by the hand to where Corgi was.

“Okay.” She nodded again, her tears ceasing.

“And while the carpet is being washed, I’ll help you wash your hair. Does that sound okay?” Bucky asked her permission, wanting to make sure she was completely comfortable.

“Yes.” She was finally smiling again as well.

“Okay, let’s get you in here,” Bucky told the puppy before placing him inside his playpen.

He spread a few sheets on which the dog could pee if needed before collecting the affected mat.

“Let’s take this to the washing machine,” Bucky voiced his movements, wanting to put her at ease as he kept her hand in his and walked with her to the bathroom.

“In you go.” Bucky threw the rug inside the washing machine along with some detergent.

“Now what do we do?” He asked her, wanting to keep her out of her head.

“Wash doll’s hair?” She asked with half a smile.

“That’s right, get in there.” Bucky tilted his head towards the bathtub with a smile.

And for some reason, it was different this time. He didn’t feel all weird seeing her naked. Maybe it was because he knew her better this time and was familiar with her in more ways than one that such intimacy didn’t startle him.

He wasn’t sure, but Bucky wasn’t complaining, only grateful as she closed her sweet eyes and trusted him to wash her hair for her.

“Alright, show me how it’s done,” Bucky encouraged, instructing her to whip her hair to the front so he could wrap the towel around it.

She did as told with a giggle, dangling her hair before her and letting Bucky wrap it up the best he could.

“Off to the couch.” Bucky chuckled as he watched her skip in her cashmere bathrobe to her couch.

Later after Bucky has brushed her hair for her, he helped her get dressed and they went outside together to replant the fallen apple saplings the wind had knocked down just like he'd promised.

The smile on her face was new and unmatched as she watched Bucky handle her plants with care.

“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him close, hardly wanting to let go as they stood in the middle of her garden.

Bucky was now rooted in her heart just like the plants in her garden were in their soil.

She didn’t think she could be away from him anymore. She didn’t want to be away from him anymore.

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” she whispered timidly as they started walking back to the house.

“What do you want on your piz- what did you say?” Bucky stopped in his tracks.

“I’m hungry.” She bit her lip and looked away quickly, hesitant now that his eyes were on her.

“Before that, doll.” Bucky brought her eyes back to his by her chin.

“D-daddy?”

Bucky smiled a smile that reached his eyes as they lit up with gratitude. He couldn’t believe he was finally hearing that word.

“Daddy’s thinking pizza, doll. Sound okay?”

Her face glowed up with her own smile as she witnessed Bucky, with full commitment, refer to himself as daddy.

She nodded, knowing this was going to be the most delicious pizza she was ever going to eat.

“What is daddy thinking?” She asked when she noticed his eyes on her, slipping a loose strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.

“Just thinking about all the things you make me feel, doll.” He smiled, turning his face to kiss her hand before it left his face.

Her face started heating up as she retracted her hand, tingles spreading all over her, “things like what?”

“You make me feel like there’s still good in this world. Like I’m worth patience and kindness and maybe even… love,” Bucky voiced his feelings, eyes dreamy as they watched her pretend to be focused on organizing her stuffies’ seats on the floor.

“You are, daddy,” she replied sincerely, hurting inside that Bucky might doubt this even a little.

“I can’t believe I was so horrible to you, doll.” Bucky’s sigh came out hot from his chest, holding so much regret.

“That’s in the past, daddy. Doll doesn’t think about it no more.” She smiled, her littler hand covering his own lovingly before giving a soothing squeeze.

“You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” Bucky held her hand up and gave the back of it a noisy kiss.

She laughed, face heating up more at the sweet attention, “no body’s perfect, remember?”

Bucky tried to continue laughing with her but he was still kicking himself for what he did to her during her visit to his house.

“How did you even tolerate me back then, doll? I was the worst.” Bucky covered his face with his hands as he threw his head back, laying on his back on the floor full of shame.

“That’s not true. You just misunderstood me and that happens!” She was quick to defend him, refusing the idea that he would even criticize himself, “daddy is the best.”

“I know, but it still gave me no right to treat you the way I did.” Bucky’s eyes teared up at the memories of his very mean words and actions, “I made you cry a lot.” He struggled to forgive himself for that one.

“Daddy, I forgave you, I swear,” she promised, her hands cradling his full cheeks.

She felt like her heart might stop from sadness if Bucky was to cry right now.

“I’m really sorry. I’m really really sorry, doll.” Bucky’s eyes were sincere, holding so much emotion in them that she felt her own begin to fill up with tears.

“Daddy, you don’t need to apologize no more,” she whispered, doing her best to hold back tears.

“You have made me the luckiest man on earth by accepting me as your caregiver, your daddy, and you’ve taught me so much, doll.” Bucky actually started crying, a lot of held-inside feelings coming out at once.

“Daddy.” Her thumb wiped under his eyes gently as she felt her own tears roll down, “don’t say stuff like that”.

“But I need to. Because you did. You taught me unconditional love and acceptance. You taught me what it means to live again. Doll, your patience with my terribleness has taught me that maybe I’m not a hopeless case after all, and that this shell of a man with a metal arm might be capable of things he thought have been wiped from his memory long ago.”

“Daddy, please stop crying,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead to his chin as her attempts at wiping his tears away have proven to be futile.

“I love you so much, doll. I love you with every old bit of me and if you’ll have me…”

“Daddy?” she raised her head, eyes on Bucky’s face, trying to read his expression.

Could Bucky really be asking what she thought he was asking?

“Doll, I want you to be my baby for more than just a few days. Would you give me that honor? Would you let me be your daddy for real?”

“Daddy, are you sure?” she nervously bit her lip.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything before.” Bucky promised.

She nodded frantically, afraid the offer might disappear if she took too long to respond, “yes.”

“Thank you, doll.” Bucky breathed as he pulled her to him, strong arms engulfing her in a protective hug.

“Daddy will not regret it later?” her eyes watched him, a small hint of doubt still tainting her trust.

“Do you like the moon, doll?”

“Yes.” She tilted her head, not understanding the relation between her question and Bucky’s answer.

“You know how our sky only has one moon?”

She nodded.

“My heart is just like that. It can only have one doll no matter how much time passes.”

“Oh.” She sniffled, trying to hold the tears in.

“I love you, doll.” Bucky gave her hair a long kiss.

“I love you, daddy.” She kissed his chest, her arms tightening their hold around him as best as she could, never wanting to be away from him again.

And she wasn’t going to be. Bucky was an idiot who let her go once; never again was he going to make that mistake.

He was blessed with her now and he was going to spend every day of his life proving he was worthy of this blessing.

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wilwheaton · 2 years

Text

the scorpion doesn’t care who it stings

I posted this on my Facebook four days ago, and it seems to have taken on a life of its own for a minute.

I thought I’d repost it, here:

I can not fathom the emptiness, the insecurity, the insatiable need for attention and validation, the staggering arrogance, the malevolence and total void of human experience that is Elon Musk.

He's the richest man on the planet. You can't go anywhere or do anything without interacting with something he's part of in some way. There are literal millions of people who uncritically worship him, in spite of overwhelming evidence that he's a douchebag. Some number of them will come after me, as they come after anyone who points at their naked emperor. They'll spend entire days going after me and people like me, slavishly serving a man who does not even know they exist. They are his army of fools, uncritically serving his every whim. And it still isn't enough.

He can have any material thing he wants, and he will *never* be happy or satisfied. He has no real friends. Every single person around him is either a viper, a parasite, or both.

So what does he do? He bullies and threatens and harasses and trolls and behaves like the weak, scared, insecure child he has always been. That's a tragedy for him, but it's dangerous for us. He doesn't care what he destroys or who he hurts as he chases this existential thing he cannot ever have.

You know the saying "hurt people hurt people"? He's a hurt person who is hurting our society, making people I care about less safe. The consequences of this one man's midlife crisis are global, and that terrifies me.

In a comment, about an hour later, I added:

You know what's really interesting is the tiny number of people who are attacking and harassing me are either typical right wing idiots who all spew the same garbage from behind their wraparound sunglasses, or these weird nerds who are DESPERATE to justify how toxic and cruel and destructive Elon Musk is. Like, nerds, listen to Old Man Wheaton, please.

Don't hitch your wagon to Elon Musk. There are countless people who are amazing and genuinely good, who do all the things we wish we could do. Stop defending this piece of shit who would push you into a volcano without even learning your name, if it would save him half a second on his way to his next shitpost on $8Chan (formerly known as Twitter).He doesn't stand up to anyone. He doesn't stand up FOR anyone. He is not your champion. He's angry and chaotic and destructive, and you have to understand that the scorpion doesn't care who it stings.

Finally, I want to add two things: 1) It’s interesting to me that a lot of the people who came to my post to be dicks used a lot of MAGA language. It reminds me of this thing my friend says about concerts: the audience looks like the band. Of course there’s substantial overlap between the angry, hateful, terrified, cowards who support Trump and the same who Stan Elon Musk, and it’s real interesting to see it in action.

2) I haven’t used Twitter for years. I quit before it was popular (lol) because it was better for my mental health. I logged in once when my book was published, and I deleted all my tweets when he announced he was buying Twitter. When he took over and immediately amplified a conspiracy theorist, I made my account private. In a perfect world, I would delete my account entirely. But I have to keep it for reasons I hope I don’t have to explain. After I posted this on Facebook, it made its way around Twitter (still is, four days later, which is ... a thing that is happening) and when people went to look at my account, they saw that it was closed. As much of a fucking manbaby Elon Musk clearly is, he didn’t do anything to my account. In fact, the only reason he even knows I exist (if he does) is through a vanity search of his name. I locked my account on my own, and so should you.

I am only on:

Tumblr

Facebook (itswilwheaton)

Instagram (itswilwheaton)

and my blog that I’ve been neglecting for too long at wilwheaton.net.

I’ve had a Reddit account since 2006, predating user-created subs! I’m u/wil there.

Okay that’s all. Thanks for listening. Please choose to be kind.

#fuck elon musk

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transmascsteveharrington · 11 months

Text

Pjo stranger things au in which even after the gods take an oath to claim their children, Steve remains without a parent. He's a half-blood no question about that, he's been at the camp almost his whole life, has been on missions, fought honorably in battles, has the scars to show it.

Still, even after the last child at the camp has been claimed and the Hermes cabin has become surprisingly empty, Steve remains without a mark. He keeps a brave face, tries not to let his sting. His father never wanted him, why should his mother be any different?

He doesn't even mind staying in the Hermes cabin. He has been here all those years, it's become his home, his family. Now that there is enough space he even gets his own little room, right across from Eddie, whose counselor for the Hermes cabin and right after Robin and Dustin, Steve's best friend.

"Ya, know," Eddie says, arm slung around Steve, who wills his heart to beat at a normal pace, "I bet if Hermes could claim you, he would."

He is actually not that far off. The Gods are watching their children. And all of their hearts ache when they get to claim a new kid at the camp and Steve's face falls slightly as he remains without a parent. Most gods don't care about their siblings' children, but there is something about Steve the gods can't ignore. Tragic hero, so lonely, so brave, so filled with love despite everything.

There is a rumor quietly echoing through the halls of the Olymp that Steve remains unclaimed because he is Hera's child. It's a scandalous suggestion, a heinous rumor, a forbidden truth. Spreading it might be enough to cause another war. The goddess of marriage having a child with a human? Unthinkable, and yet. Everyone knows that marriage doesn't equal love, knows how spiteful Hera is, how most of her children are hated. No one could blame her for the affair really, if the rumors were true, if anything the gods are surprised she didn't snap sooner with Zeus having affairs left and right. But if the rumors were true, they definitely would blame her for not claiming Steve. Steve who protects the younger kids fiercely, how cares so much about everyone.

It hurts one goddess especially. Aphrodite looks down at Steve and aches. Aches how he thinks that he is hard to love, hard to want, always easy to leave. Who despite that fear won't stop giving pieces of his heart out, who loves so much even though it hurts. Sometimes when Aphrodite watches Steve, he already feels like one of her own. She loves her children easily, constantly, it's impossible not to for her yet at the same time she loves them on purpose. And as she watches Steve, she can't help but love him too.

She reaches her breaking point on a warm summer night. After the bonfire, Steve goes down to the lake, sits at the pier, legs pressed into his chest in a poor imitation of a hug. He looks at his reflection in the lake and wonders why. Why is he so hard to love? It's silly really, all that had happened was some new Ares kid talking to Eddie. Tall, muscular, pretty and the guy had made Eddie laugh. Steve's thoughts had spiraled from there on.

He's so busy licking his own wounds and wallowing in the feeling of not being wanted that he almost doesn't notice the goddess emerging from the lake like she had once emerged from the ocean at the cyprian shores. Steve startles when he does notice her, before he quickly bows.

"My lady," he greets her politely, always the charmer.

"There is no need for that, Steve," she says kindly and Steve looks back up at her. She is truly the epitome of beauty, dark, bouncy curls, deep brown eyes, dimples around plum lips. Steve is not stupid, knows the goddess appears in the form you most desire, he is just glad he is alone. Robin would never let him live this down.

"What can I do for you?"

"I've come to make you an offer Steve," she explains. "I want you to devote yourself to me."

Steve gasps, stares at her a little shocked. She can't blame him.

"Why would you want my devotion?"

She can tell he isn't asking why she wants devotion, but why she specifically wants his devotions, why she would want him.

"Because I love the way you love," she says with a smile. "I love the way you love and that makes me love you. I admire your devotion, the affection you hold for your friends. If I could, I would claim you as my own. But I can't, so I am offering my patronage instead."

Steve still looks a bit struck, surprised a goddess would want him like that, would appreciate the way he loves. Steve had always bounced back and forth between being too much and not being too much. No one has ever said that they loved the way he loved.

"What would being devoted to you entail?" he asks, knowing there very often is a catch when it comes to the gods.

But Aphrodite means no malice.

"It would essentially be the same as being my child. I will come to your aid, I will love you, I will lend you my gifts if needed. Only that since we are not bound by birth, you would have to take a sacred oath. Become a...paladin is the name your Eddie would use, I belive."

Steve likes the way she says it. Your Eddie. His Eddie. It sounds almost too good to be true, being wanted like that, being offered a family like that.

"Would I have to move cabins," he blurts, overwhelmed by al his emotions. Aphrodite laughs.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't dare to tear you away from the people you love so dearly. I believe you are friends with my children anways, strengthening that bond a little will be enough. But I am sure you and Chrissy will make sure of that."

"Then I take the oath," Steve decides and goes down on one knee. "I devote myself to you, goddess Aphrodite. I will worship at your altar and fulfill your quests. I am yours as you are mine."

There is a tingling sensation as he finishes his oath, warm spreads through him and he can feel himself be filled with Aphrodite's love. It's a lot. It's everything. Gently, she reaches out and cradles his face in her hand.

"Go on then, my brave little hero," she whispers. "I think you have a bonfire to return to, friends, family, your beloved."

"He isn't my beloved," Steve mumbles, blush on his cheeks.

Aphrodite just raises a brow. Steve knows she can see into his heart, he knows he can't lie to her.

"Remember that you are loved," she tells him and Steve will try his best.

He leaves the lake, a tattoo of a circle with a cross at the bottom carved into his wrist. Aphrodite watches him leave, casts a little blessing on the red string connection Steve's and Eddie's pinkie fingers. She knows her paladin doesn't need the extra help. He just needs love and she is willing to give to him all.

(part 2)

#steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #steve x eddie #my writing

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lighteyed · 1 year

Text

safe / steve harrington

summary: nowadays parties kind of freak steve out, but you’ll make him feel safe again, don’t worry.

word count: 1.6k

steve doesn’t really party anymore.

occasionally he’ll have a few drinks, but there was a certain time when he was considered the party king of hawkins and nowadays he feels completely and utterly disconnected from that era of his life, having grown older and (sort of, maybe?) wiser, concerned more with his job, you, his girlfriend, robin, his best friend, and the hoard of children he’d unwittingly taken to looking out for somewhere along the way. he didn’t really have a reason to party anymore, and when you went out, still a senior in high school, a year younger than him, he would reject your invitations to come. he’d pick you up after, make sure you were home in bed safe, stay the night if you wanted him to, but you never got too drunk regardless. a few drinks and that was your limit. steve doesn’t mind. he’s just not a partier anymore, he tells you, insists on it, really, that he’d rather stay home, he’s grown out of that lifestyle, he’s moved on.

(but mostly he stopped partying after nancy wheeler told him their whole relationship was bullshit when she was shitfaced at tina’s halloween bash and steve hasn’t really had the courage to drink or be around people who are drinking ever since. especially you.)

you’re about to graduate, though, and steve knows he can’t miss it, miss one of the biggest moments in your life, where all you want is him there having fun alongside you, the person you care about most in the world. he’d be a shitty boyfriend if he did that, and steve harrington was a lot of things, gorgeous and funny and loyal, to name a few off the top of your head, but he was not a shitty boyfriend. not to you, not ever. he would sacrifice himself for your happiness ten times over if it meant you’d smile at him. if he had to brave the party scene again, he would. even though it kind of terrified him.

yeah, seeing you this drunk definitely terrified him.

he’s been nursing the same drink, only his second, and he was barely halfway done with it, for almost forty minutes now, lingering in the background of the room, watching everyone else have a lot more fun than him. he’s still enjoying himself in spite of that. he likes watching you shine, and boy do you. he forgets that being out of high school a year now means he rarely has a chance to see you in your element, popular, everyone adoring you, wanting you in their polaroids, congratulating you on the awards you’d gotten during the graduation ceremony, loving all the same things steve loves about you (not as much, he asserts to himself, never as much).

he sees you down your fourth jell-o shot and shakes his head with immense fondness. you’re going harder than usual, maybe because he’s there with you and you feel safer and more carefree in his company. you look over at him, beam and wave, and he does it right back, taking a small sip of whatever is in his hand (he’s not 100%, but who really is at a high school party?).

“stevie!” you wrap your arms around him, your eyes big, your voice a little silly from all the drinks you’ve had. even in your drunken haze you still think he’s hung the moon. “have another drink, baby, we’re walking home tonight,” you gesture for someone to come bring you another one for him but he gently pushes your hand back down.

“don’t worry about me, it’s your night, i want you to have fun,” he kisses the top of your head. you smell vaguely like your jell-o shots, that artificial strawberry scent like stomach medicine, but not in a bad way. it’s sweet.

“i want you to have fun with me,” you say, a little pushy, a lot drunk. he shakes his head again, still smiling. you mean well.

“i’m having fun, i promise, just not used to this anymore.” he squeezes your side playfully. “maybe chill on the drinks for a minute though, yeah? i don’t want you to get sick.” he plants another kiss on you, this time firmly on your lips, smiling against you when you gasp at the song that’s come on.

“aw come on steve dance with me,” but you accidentally tug on his hand holding the drink and he would’ve danced with you he swears he would’ve if you hadn’t gotten his drink doused all over the front of your shirt. “fuck,” you mumble, suddenly that weird mix of sober and drunk, your head fuzzy staring at the stain and steve’s head fuzzy with bad memories that make his breath bitch and his heart constrict.

“i’m sorry, babe, shit, come on, i’ll get you cleaned up,” he tries to steady his breathing as he walks you, stumbling and blurry-eyes, to the bathroom, don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic, but he hears it in his head. he hears all of it.

it’s bullshit it’s all bullshit you’re bullshit like we’re in love-

he shuts the door behind the both of you and you turn the sink on, and the flashbacks pulse behind his eyelids, and he keeps reminding himself to breathe. “i don’t know if it’ll come out, i’m sorry,” he spins you toward him, slow so you don’t get dizzy, and he dabs at the liquid squelching in your shirt, trying to soak some of it up. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he mutters, almost feverish, staring at you, at the stain, at the mess he’s made, the mess he always makes, the mess he can’t stop making-

“what’re you sorry for?” you say softly, still slurred, and when he meets your gaze he doesn’t see the emptiness he’s imagining, the coldness he remembers from the night so similar, he sees daylight. he sees love. “i pulled you too hard, my fault, ruined your drink,” you pull at your wet shirt and your movements are sloppy.

“not your fault, don’t worry,” he pushes your hair back from your forehead, sweaty from the heat of the party. mascara is smudged under your eyes. dingy yellow bathroom lighting doesn’t do anyone any favors but you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. smudged and sweaty and so pretty. “i don’t wanna ruin your night.” his hand comes to rest on the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.

“you could never,” you balk at the insinuation. you take his face in your hands. he’s worried, searching your face for answers, for reassurance. “so pretty,” you smush his cheeks together. his face warms. “pretty steve.”

“alright, alright,” he laughs, uncharacteristically shy, swatting your hands away.

“i gotta tell you something. it’s really important.” you stare directly into his eyes. they’re so deep and brown you wanna kiss him before you tell him anything. but your brain wants you to say it. your brain insists you say it first. “it’s a secret, okay? so don’t tell anyone.”

the panicky feeling creeps in again, even though you’ve been sweet on him all night. his palms start to sweat. he nods. “a secret, huh? how secret we talking?” he plays with a strand of your hair, an attempt to appear nonchalant.

“biggest secret of my life,” you inform him, a look of seriousness on your face so intense he almost laughs again, and he would if he weren’t so nervous. the concentrated expression didn’t match the inebriated, slightly delirious voice coming out of your mouth, not for a second.

“okay, lay it on me,” he takes a deep breath. he hears the party continuing to rage on outside the little bubble he’s in. at least if it’s bad his escape will be quick and no one will notice.

you tilt his chin up toward you because he’s not making eye contact and you need him to see you when you say this. your mind is buzzing with it. it’s all you can think about. you lean forward and whisper, “i’m in love with steve harrington,” and then you lean back and laugh, giddy with the revelation. “did you know that? super in love. for real.” you lean in again. “don’t tell steve. if he’s not in love with me back i’ll be real embarrassed.”

he’s never felt such pure relief, flooding his entire being, lighter than he’s ever felt, happier than he knew he could be. “i won’t tell him, gorgeous, but you should know,” he leans in and whispers, playing along, smiling so broadly he can’t hide it for a second, “steve is in love with you, too, i heard it from him myself, so don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing, okay?” he pets your hair, his touches light and loving. he hugs you like that, his cheek atop your head. you’ve been dating awhile, almost a year, but you’d both been so hesitant to say it first, past experiences hindering either of you from being able to fully admit it to each other, not wanting to be hurt again, not wanting to be vulnerable. but here you were. it’s not like nancy. you believe in him and your love for each other and things are different now, things are safe.

“you’ll take me home now? so i can tell him?” it’s such a sweet gesture, he gets overwhelmed, his nose twitching with that feeling that he might cry. he feels lucky to be loved, and lucky to love you. lucky to maybe not loathe parties so much anymore.

“‘course, baby, c’mon.” he kisses your forehead, the tip of your nose, your lips. they’re soft and sticky and perfect.

he takes you by the hand and leads you out of the house after saying goodbye to your friends; he keeps your fingers interlocked the whole walk back to your house. when you’re cleaned up and in bed, a glass of water on your nightstand for when you wake up, you turn to him, reaching out.

“you’ll stay right?” he remembers a time where he never got asked to stay, never got to be in love properly. it feels far away now. he’s flushed with love from you now. he can put the past behind him.

he climbs in next to you, fresh from the bathroom. “can’t leave until i get to tell you i love you when you’re sober, now can i?” and your fogged up brain supposes he can’t.

#i’m on a roll :D #i wrote this on my notes app at 2am he possesses all my thoughts #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things x reader

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ilycosy · 5 months

Note

bottom luke! bottom luke! bottom luke—

i may be a subbottom but a gal can dream !!! (also my friend eats bottom luke up so :3)

i js know that he'd be such a 50/50 guy tbh !!! ur either getting the sweetest boy ever or the biggest brat ever (headcanons !!!!)

warnings : TLT SPOILERS , afab + amab! reader , pegging , overstim , dacryphilia , creampie , petnames (pretty boy, sweet boy, princess) , daddy & mommy kink , loving sex but also toxic , also YES i feminized luke

afab reader (mommy kink)

୨୧ — he's definitely more on the good boy spectrum with somebody that has a mommy kink, especially if they're on the softer side of it?? he's so whipped and ready to listen

୨୧ — gets super embarrassed though when it's brought up, being the best swordsman at camp he definitely struggles with the need to be dominant or prove himself capable of taking care of you (which he can !! you just like taking care of him more)

୨୧ — ok now onto the actual sex !! he's superr whiny, like im talking high pitched and having to muffle his noises in the bed type whiny. hes constantly out of breath and panting when being prepped, no matter the amount of fingers

୨୧ — he says he prefers smaller straps because they're easier to take but i think he's just a little insecure (that can be fixed w a little bit of talking)

୨୧ — weak at the mfing knees for being called a good boy— "you're such a good boy for mommy!" "good boy, now turn around." "be a good boy for me?" — he's a puddle on the floor now

୨୧ — he definitely gets jealous if he finds out you've pegged others (i said it was a lil toxic !!!) so he ends up with his own toys, mainly out of spite rather than actual concern for germs (also ,, who doesn't love custom stuff ??)

୨୧ — as an apology for the betrayal, he basically begs you to use him (his words not mine) he lowk doesn't want you to stop until he's crying and can't cum anymore. he tries to run off before aftercare and tbh won't accept it due to guilt (unless you join him , like i said , he's toxic)

— afab reader 🤝 amab reader = calling luke pretty boy

amab reader (daddy kink)

୨୧ — different from afab, i think he would lean more on the bratty side. he definitely has issues with accepting men as authority figures (look at his dad) so i think it might take some getting used to being the bottom (esp the sub)

୨୧ — he never talks about it, especially when others could potentially hear. he likes making people believe that he's the dominant one in the relationship even though he's not and both of you know it

୨୧ — actual sex !! he's still super whiny, but he probably tries to hide it a lot more. he chokes up a lot on his own spit from holding it in (dw just force his mouth open !!) but for some reason he seems to like it better that way, being forced to make noise

୨୧ — doesn't really matter how big you are, but he definitely leans more on size queen... !! he tries to hide it but he can't help but buck his hips back onto your cock when it's near

୨୧ — he will never admit it, but being called princess and being treated like he's fragile will always get him going— "cmere princess, come sit." "shh princess, you don't want people to hear do you?" "are you seriously that desperate for daddy's cock princess?" — he's WEAK !!!!

୨୧ — don't ever and i mean ever talk about your sex life in front of others, you don't even need to have slept with people for him to be clawing at your back to make sure you know you're his later !!

୨୧ — he definitely expects you to join his side w the betrayal, he can't fathom putting sm trust and allowing a masc authority figure in his life like that only for you to side w others— he begs and pleads during the hate (or love if you're going w him) fuck for you to cum in him so he has something

★ general note, while i wrote this w fem & masc readers in mind (duh) i think luke doesn't care abt genitals and relies more on terms w how he acts !!! like if you were afab but liked to be called daddy he'd be more bratty & vice versa <3

#cosywriting #cosynsfw #cosyreqs #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan smut #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan fic #🎀 asks #castellanswrld #male reader #female reader

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moraxsthrone · 1 year

Text

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ TITLE — something precious in return

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ PAIRING — d. ragnvindr x f!reader

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ WC — 5.7k

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ WARNINGS/NOTES — nsfw. mdni. virgin!diluc. virgin!reader. mutual pining. childhood friends to lovers. light angst to comfort to smut to fluff. outdoor sex at night. flashbacks in italics. SLOW BURN, just how diluc likes it. from his very first time, he's always been such a naturally passionate lover.

here on your stargazing hill, the night breeze is colder than you had anticipated when you opted to bring the thin blanket upon which you presently sit. you’d worn long sleeves, but hadn’t accounted for how much cooler the air would feel against your face once the tears began to flow.

normally you’d be at angel’s share right about now, sitting at the bar and shooting the shit with your best friend while he works. but under the current circumstances, diluc’s presence would only serve to drive the knife deeper: a cruel reminder of the love you could have had if only he returned your affection. then perhaps you wouldn’t be sitting here all alone, holding the broken shards of your heart in your hands because you never even would’ve looked twice at the other guy. instead, now it’s doubly broken - first by the guy who just broke up with you, then by the knowledge that the one you really want - your first choice - would always be just out of reach. you almost resent diluc because he has no idea that every time he smiles at you, your heart skips a beat even as it bleeds for him.

you shiver and pull your knees in close to your chest, arms hugging your legs as you look out at the stars.

“you’ll catch your death sitting out here like this.”

you squeak and nearly jump out of your skin before putting your hand over your heart and breathing a sigh of relief.

“you scared the shit out of me, luc!” you chide as he snickers and drapes his coat over your shoulders. you playfully slap his arm as he sits down beside you. “it’s not funny! don’t sneak up on me like that!”

you quickly wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, turning his smile upside down as his eyebrows knit. you were hoping he wouldn’t notice you’d been crying, but it’s diluc. he notices things. especially when it comes to you.

“what’s wrong, y/n?”

his body heat feels nice, his warmth enveloping you as you pull his coat tighter around yourself. “shouldn’t you be at the tavern?” you scoff, wishing he would just go away but scooting over to give him more room in spite of yourself. this would all be so much easier if he didn’t care about you so much.

“not when my friend doesn’t show up there on a friday night.” a new hairline crack snakes through your heart at the word ‘friend’. “i haven’t seen hair nor hide of you all week. now, talk to me. why are you crying? do i need to go kick someone’s ass?”

you fight the smile that threatens to betray you, and he notices…of course.

“i feel passed over, luc,” you mutter, looking down at your hands, “like i’ll only ever be second best. i want to be someone’s first choice, every time. forever, not just for a few months.”

your words tug at his heart. if you only knew. “so would it be safe to assume things didn’t work out between you and what’s-his-name?”

you chuckle. even though you dated “what’s-his-name” for almost a year, diluc has always “forgotten” his name no matter how many times you’ve reminded him. clearly he's never thought much of the guy. and for good reason, it turns out.

“seeing as how he dumped me for another girl, your assumption would be safe indeed,” you answer, choking on your last word as fresh tears begin to well up.

“hey now,” diluc says softly, pulling you in, “come here.”

leaning into him, you lay your head against his chest where his voice sounds so much closer, deeper. balling his shirt in your fist, you tuck your head under his chin just like you’ve done since you were both little, and you cry.

outside of family, diluc has always been your most reliable source of comfort. generally speaking, he’s never really been the most affectionate person. but when it comes to you he’s made a lot of exceptions. since his father died last year, not many people get to see diluc’s smile or hear his laugh, but you do. the two of you have pretty much been inseparable since you were 7 and he was 8.

you'd gotten stuck in a tree after climbing it, too scared to climb back down. you sat there and cried for about half an hour when another little girl with long, bright red hair and pretty, big carmine eyes came along and helped you down. you had a couple of scrapes on your knees and elbows and were too shaken up to walk home. so your new friend carried you on her back.

you’ll never forget the way her thick hair tickled your face and made you giggle every time there was a breeze. it was only when you got back home and introduced your new friend to your mom as “she” that diluc’s face turned a shade that rivaled the color of his hair and he said, a little indignantly you might add, “he! i’m a boy!”

to this day you still tease him about what a pretty girl he could pass for, albeit one with a very deep voice. he does not find it funny.

however, at the present moment, neither of you are laughing. with his strong arms wrapped around you, you hear his heartbeat quicken.

“i happen to have it on good authority that you are someone’s first choice.”

“you do? i am?” you sniff and look up at him, your watery eyes following the strong line of his jaw as he trains his gaze on the starry canopy above.

his affirmative hum vibrates against your ear, which is still pressed to his chest. why is his heart beating so fast?

with your curiosity piqued, you lift your head. “who?”

“not telling.”

“how mature.”

a breathy laugh escapes his scrunched-up nose as he looks down at you again. “shut up.”

“c’mon, luc, at least give me a hint! is it someone i know?”

“yes.”

“really?” diluc’s hold on you loosens when you straighten up again. “is it someone i know from the tavern or the winery?”

“both.”

that doesn’t narrow it down much. “is it a guy or a girl?” you press.

“definitely a guy,” he says pointedly.

“what color is his hair?”

“i’ll only answer yes or no questions…”

“why can’t you just tell me?”

“because i’m not so sure he wants you to know.”

you scoff. “that’s stupid. why wouldn’t he want me to know?”

“maybe he’s afraid you won’t want to be friends with him anym-” shit, he thinks, too far. the brief flash of panic in his eyes isn’t lost on you. “in any case,” he says, clearing his throat, “you’re nursing a broken heart so it’s too soon to-”

“diluc,” you interrupt him. “is it you?”

he scoffs, eyebrows knitting. “pfssh…no!” he instantly turns away from you lest you see the blush that he can feel rushing to his face.

“aww, luc! you’re blushing!” you tease, leaning around him to try and see his face. you believed him when he said it’s not him (thinking otherwise would’ve been wishful indeed), but tormenting him a little because of how cute it is that he gets so easily flustered. giggling, you bring a hand to his jaw in an effort to turn his face towards you again. “you’re totally blushing, i can see how red your face-“

before you can finish your taunt, your senses are suddenly filled with diluc ragnvindr. his bottom lip is pressed between yours as he kisses you, the scent of wine-stained oak barrels filling your nostrils. you’re so stunned that you forget to kiss him back and he pulls away, unable to make eye contact.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, moving to get up and leave to avoid making things any worse, but you grab his hand. he stops, but doesn’t turn around. he’s still too embarrassed to face you.

“how long?” your voice is soft, almost a whisper, afraid if you speak too loudly you’ll wake up to find this has all been a dream.

“since that night in the water…”

archons, that long? you were barely teenagers that summer.

you’d snuck out of your respective homes to go night swimming. you met at the beach south of dawn winery, near the waterfall, before removing all but your swimwear that you’d each worn under your clothes.

you both stood on one of the boulders and agreed to jump in on the count of three, but when the moment of truth came you chickened out, letting diluc jump in by himself. when he surfaced you were still standing on the rock, looking down and laughing at him. he swam to the shore and by the time you realized what he was doing, it was too late. he was coming right for you but the only escape was jumping into the water.

you put your hands out, still giggling. “n-no! diluc, no don’t do it!”

a dark grin spread across his face as he grabbed your bare waist. you screamed as he tossed you into the water before jumping in behind you.

you surfaced and as soon as you could touch the bottom you pushed your wet hair out of your face and turned towards the laughing boy. you called him a few choice names while splashing water towards his face, but he just ended up tackling you. you’re still not sure how it happened, but you found yourself in waist-deep water, still laughing with diluc’s hands perched on your hips to steady you when he suddenly leaned down and kissed you.

the feeling of lips - his lips - pressed against your own made you feel like you were floating even as your toes curled into the sediment beneath them. you were both inexperienced, neither of you having kissed anyone before. it only lasted a few seconds, but to the two of you it felt like forever, each rapid beat of your hearts lasting lifetimes. but when you placed your palm flat against his bare chest, diluc pulled away and trudged out of the water.

you watched him, confused and still in shock by what just happened. with his back turned to you, he started getting dressed.

you were still anchored in the water, suddenly feeling cold. “luc?”

he balled his hair into his fists to wring the excess water out before looking back at you, but only with a glance. “i uh- i have to go.”

“diluc, what-”

“just…get dressed and let’s go.” he sounded angry. “i’m not leaving you out here alone. it's too dangerous.”

you frowned, hugging yourself as you walked out of the water. your head was swimming, reeling as you slowly made your way towards your own pile of clothes.

he walked you home that night and neither of you have spoken a word of it since.

until now.

“i thought you hated it,” you say, collecting the excess length of his coat sleeves in your fidgeting hands.

“i didn’t hate it!” he corrects you a little too quickly, then lowers his voice. “i…i liked it.”

“then why the hell did you act so weird about it and want to leave?”

he averts his eyes, but doesn’t say anything.

“diluc, why?” you plead, new tears - different tears - pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“i…” he knows the question has been burning at the back of your mind for years. an explanation is long overdue. he lowers his gaze from the stars overhead and mumbles something that you can’t quite understand.

“i didn’t hear you.”

“i got hard,” he repeats.

“you-” did you just hear him correctly? “you got hard?”

he has mixed feelings about hearing you say those words. it’s embarrassing, but also…it sounds sexy when you say it.

“so you’ve been breaking my heart for the past 5 years because you popped a boner?”

his eyes shift to yours before quickly looking away again. “i’m sorry.”

“you’re sorry?” you ask incredulously. “diluc, do you have any idea how confused i was? that was my first kiss and i’ve always wanted to cherish it, but you robbed me of that! you took something so precious to me and turned it into something shameful! all because your dick got hard?”

“i didn’t want you to see it, or worse, feel it. we- our bodies were so close. i didn’t want you to think i was a creep.” his apologetic eyes meet yours. “i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

you hazard a glance at his lap, but his leg is bent such that it makes it impossible to tell. “are you hard now?” your voice is quieter, conveying genuine curiosity.

his eyes snap to yours. “no!” do you really think a peck on the lips is enough to arouse him? “it was just a quick kiss…tch!”

“don’t act so offended! that’s all it took back then!”

“i was 14 for fuck’s sake!”

thing is though, you want to make him hard again. the thought that you’d had that effect on him back then - with just a simple kiss - sends a pang of desire coursing through your core. you get to your knees and inch closer to his side, diluc’s crimson eyes following your every move. putting your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, you lean in and place the softest kiss on his parted lips.

he doesn’t even feel like he deserves to kiss you again. aren’t you mad at him? why would you reward him with such a sweet gift after what he’d put you through?

you pull back just enough to look at him and whisper, “kiss me, diluc. like you mean it this time.”

he tilts his head, slotting his lips with yours once again as you both close your eyes. your mouths begin to move and diluc’s hand comes to rest on the back of your neck, his warm thumb ghosting over your ear.

your mouths open, breathing each other’s air before slowly sealing your lips together again. you drag your thumbs down the sides of his neck as he cranes it to get closer, kissing you a bit harder. as if reading each other’s desires, the tips of your tongues brush together the next time your lips part and pretty soon they’re swirling in a slow, sensual dance.

diluc’s hands drift down to your waist, pulling you closer to straddle his lap. you settle down, the tiniest of whines leaving your mouth when you feel his semi-hard bulge press into the back of your thigh. your kisses grow increasingly passionate by the second as though trying to make up for lost time.

changing the tilt of his head to deepen the kiss, diluc wraps you into his arms completely. this time, there is no sign of him backing out. his confidence is sexy, his tongue intoxicating. your hands are in his hair where they’ve wanted to be for so long. he grips your back and pulls you flush against him. you roll your hips against him, making him moan in your mouth as you feel his building erection jump against the back of your thigh.

diluc huffs and you find yourself on your back, legs still straddling his hips. your tongues push over and around each other, quickened breaths mixing together when he reaches down momentarily and adjusts himself. in this position his cock is now pressing firmly against your moistening center, making you keenly aware of how close your bodies are, how ready you are for one another.

the sweet, breathy mewl diluc pulls from you when he grinds his clothed erection against your clit goes straight to his dick, making it throb for you in his pants. he ruts again, slowly, willing you to feel him, no longer shy and too far gone to pretend he isn’t aroused. he wants you to know he’s hard for you; needs you to know how badly he’s wanted you and for how long. you have no idea how many times he has whispered your name while lying in his own bed, eyes closed with his hands in his boxers wishing they were yours. more than that, though, he needs you to know how much he cares for you.

diluc ragnvindr has never been a man of many words. but perhaps now, here on this grassy knoll, with your hands in his hair, his lip between your teeth, your hearts pressed together and pounding for one another - diluc can finally show you all the things he’s wanted to say.

one of his hands wanders the length of your waist, gripping your side as he massages his way down to your hip. he squeezes you there, making you sigh and roll your hips up to meet his when his thumb presses into the crease of your leg. you’re both panting into your open-mouthed kiss, lips red and swollen, impatiently trying to get closer and closer as though you can will your clothing out of the way.

but you’re too needy to wait until the fabric barriers can be worn down with time, so you take matters into your own shaky hands and start unbuttoning the collar of diluc’s shirt. with a grunt, he lifts himself up to help things along, quickly removing his shirt before reaching down to help you out of yours. you’re already working your bra off as your eyes traverse the expanse of his naked chest and sculpted abs.

his skin is pale and smooth save for the dips between his muscles and the thin line of red hair beneath his navel. diluc’s fiery mane is draped over his broad shoulders, tickling your chest when he presses his naked torso to yours and recaptures your lips with his. he’s burning up, his blushing skin so very hot to the touch that you almost flinch. his scorching hand massages its way to your breast, squeezing and kneading it gently while he dips down to take the other into the wet heat of his mouth. you gasp, eyes rolling back as you arch your back off the relatively cool lining of his coat, pushing your chest into his touch. your hands are exploring his back, dragging the impressions of your fingertips across his pale skin, digging and pulling at him as if he could get any closer.

blazing a trail of wet kisses along your neck, diluc’s lips find yours once again only to release a quiet moan inside your mouth when your fingers slide inside the front of his pants. he lifts his hips slightly, encouraging your exploration of his body, shivering as your digits thread through his coarse patch of hair before spreading around the wide base of his hard cock. you wrap your fingers around him, sighing at the feeling of his heavy girth in your hand; his hot, velvety skin sliding over the rock hard length of his shaft as you slowly stroke him.

diluc hums, eyes screwing shut as he presses his forehead to yours, mind buzzing at the sensation of your soft hand pumping him. you work your way closer to his tip, pussy clenching at his deep groan when the edge of his glans catches on the opening of your grip. inside his underwear, you can feel the cool slick of his precum against your knuckles as more begins to coat the inside of your fist. diluc swears under his breath, moving his hips more quickly, unable to resist the sheer pleasure of your tight grip around his slippery cockhead.

“mm-y/n,” he whispers, burying his face against your neck. “hhhh shit…”

a few hurried thrusts later, you feel the rhythmic twitching of his cock and with a low, extended groan, diluc covers your hand with his warm release. you slow your pace but keep your fist tight, milking the last of his orgasm from his cock as his hot breaths come hard and fast against your neck.

when he’s fully spent, he jolts out of your grip and huffs out a small laugh, indicating his sensitivity. you slowly pull your hand from his pants, leaving a trail of his cum along his stomach but neither of you care.

“that was really hot,” you muse with a small smile.

nuzzling your ear, he mumbles, “can i touch you?”

your eyes slide closed, sighing. “i really want you to, yes.”

diluc leaves a couple of kisses on the corner of your mouth before raising up onto his knees. his chest rises and falls, still catching his breath as he unfastens your pants. you lift your hips to aid him when he curls his fingers around your waistband and works your bottoms down the curve of your ass and hips before ridding you of them entirely.

you watch as he unbuckles his belt and removes the rest of his own clothing, biting your lip when his half-hard cock bounces out of his cum-stained underwear. he looks down at you, lips parted as his lust-blown vermillion eyes take in every inch of your naked form. feeling vulnerable and self-conscious, you close your legs and fold your arms over your breasts.

“s-stop staring, diluc,” you mutter, looking away with a bashful smile. “you’re embarrassing me.”

you feel his hands on your closed thighs, not pulling them apart but caressing them in an effort to make you feel less uncomfortable.

“i’m sorry, it’s just-” he begins to stumble on his words but presses on, “...the way you’re glowing in the moonlight. you look like a goddess.” he leans down, letting his lips ghost over your skin as he whispers, “please don’t hide yourself; you’re lovely.”

there’s no fighting the smile that spreads across your face at his words. you willingly open your legs and arms, pulling him close for a kiss. propping himself on his forearm, his other hand touches you, roaming your naked body, claiming every peak and valley, conquering you with his hands inch by scorching inch.

he feels you tremble beneath him as the backs of his fingers rake along your inner thigh. you gasp, interrupting your lazy kissing when the pad of diluc’s thumb grazes your clit. he slides his digit down between your folds before returning to your tiny, engorged tip. he repeats the process a few more times, spreading your slick along your pink slit while driving you out of your mind.

he’s dragging the tip of his thumb in little circles over your clit now, swallowing your whines, his full erection returning as you buck your hips for him. with his thumb still on your clit, he presses the tip of his middle finger against your opening, slowly pushing it in a little before withdrawing, back and forth until he’s knuckle deep inside your slippery heat. you’re gripping his biceps, hanging on for dear life while he drinks your moans and sighs, tasting the sounds of your pleasure on his tongue like a fine wine.

“hhhhnn~ luc…”

he moves to your ear as he works a second finger inside you, a pleased hum escaping him when he hears his name, laced with lust and desire, pour from your lips. there’s a deep ache building inside your lower belly that you’ve never felt before. diluc presses deeper inside you, reveling in the sensation of your slick walls clenching around his fingers. it feels like you’re chasing something but you need more. his fingers are providing a delicious stretch, but it’s just not quite enough.

“diluc, please…” you whisper breathlessly, “...put it in.” he raises his head from your collarbone and meets your lust-filled gaze. “need you, luc. want you inside me~”

“you mean…” if you weren’t so drunk on desire, you’d laugh at the almost comical look on his face when he raises his eyebrows. “...my cock?”

you cup his cheeks in your palms and hum affirmatively with a breathy ‘yes’. “i want you…want you to be my first.”

“wait, you’re still…?”

you nod. “i’ve always wanted you to be my first everything.”

his heart blooms, swelling against his ribcage at your confession. with a furrowed brow, he kisses you. “i’ve always wanted the same; you’ll be my first too.” he slowly pulls his fingers out of you and squares his hips with yours, nestling his readied cock between your slick folds. “i’m sorry it took me so long to-”

you bring your fingers to his lips, shushing him. “better late than never,” you tell him with a reassuring smile as you press your lips to his again. your breath stutters when the head of his cock nudges your clit. “claim me, diluc.”

he deepens the kiss with a sigh, his cock leaking to mix with your need, getting slicker with every languid roll of his hips. he reaches between your bodies, his eyes darting to yours, watching for the slightest hint of discomfort or change of mind as he pushes his pink, drooling tip to your opening and begins to push inside you.

you both moan, fingertips curling into one another’s flesh as your tight ring stretches around his thick, virgin cockhead before finally surrendering with a soft pop.

in all his fantasies of this moment, nothing could’ve prepared diluc for the intoxicating texture and heat of your cunt as it spreads around him. “so…” he sucks air between his teeth at your relentless clenching, “...tight.”

meanwhile, you’ve never felt such overwhelming pressure and fullness as his cock invades your virgin pussy. you hold your breath as the young, inexperienced male pushes deeper inside you, digging your nails into the skin of his back. the stretch is too much, too fast.

he halts all movement, crimson eyes widening when he hears the muffled whimper in your throat. “shit. are you okay? does it hurt?”

you wince, trying to soldier through the pain. you’ve heard that if it hurts you have to take deep breaths and try to relax; tensing only makes it worse. “a- a little.”

“maybe we should stop,” he says as he begins to pull out.

“no!” you blurt, hooking your ankles behind diluc’s thighs to impede his withdrawal. “no,” you repeat, more quietly this time, collecting yourself. “just…be still for a moment and i think i’ll be okay.”

“you want me to keep it in?” he’s watching you like a hawk for your reactions. the last thing in the world he wants to do is hurt you.

your eyes slide closed and nod, the pain already starting to give way to a dull, tolerable pressure. diluc waits, holding himself still as he kisses your face, his soft lips grazing your eyelids while he threads his fingers through your hair. your death grip on the flesh of his back subsides as you inwardly remind yourself to breathe. even when you move your hips a little, diluc keeps still, putting your comfort and pleasure ahead of his own feral urges, content to let you guide his pace.

little by little, you work yourself further down his thick length until your clit rubs against the red thatch of hair around his base. the added stimulation sends a surge of pleasure through your core, that new ache returning, making you ready and craving just a little more.

you kiss behind diluc’s jaw, just beneath his ear before murmuring to him, “make love to me, diluc.”

and so, on a cool blanket under the stars and moon, not too far from the vineyard with only the crystalflies to bear witness, you and diluc take something from each other while giving something far more precious in return.

diluc’s hips undulate, rocking back and forth, his butt muscles flexing with each forward thrust. the crimson hair at the base of his dick is shiny with your slick as it rubs your swollen clit. your toes curl, heels digging into his thighs like a jockey spurring on her steed to go faster, faster.

“more- nnhhm- more…”

he’s on his forearms, cradling your back, his hands framing your ears when he opens his eyes to look at you from above. “you sure?”

“please, yes, i need it…” your back arches, eyes closing when you feel your core squeeze him and you’re chasing that unknown something again. “need you to fuck me harder, luc.”

your lover's eyes widen momentarily at your direct, wanton words. he finds it incredibly sexy and briefly wonders how else your mouth might surprise him. he’s pumping his cock into you a little faster now, his hand cradling the back of your neck, the pad of his thumb ghosting along your jawline.

“i need you to tell me if i go too far…”

you nod, and he raises up onto his hands, caging you beneath him to give himself more leverage as he begins to thrust into you faster still. your moans and whimpers travel straight down his spine, urging him to go harder until you can hear the wet claps of skin, sloppy and lewd.

“gods, y/n…” diluc grunts, feeling that familiar coil winding dangerously tight at the base of his spine, searing and ready to snap. “i think i’m going to…” he swears through his moan as his balls tighten.

as new lovers tend to do, he slips out of you unintentionally, his hot seed spurting in long threads over your belly. he’s still rocking his hips, dragging his jerking cock between your folds, smearing his cum along your pussy lips as more of it spills out. he’s sighing, trying so hard to be quiet, but as the last of his sperm dribbles out of his cockhead it catches and slides back inside you. he lets out an open-mouthed groan as your tight heat sucks his sensitive, cum-coated tip back in.

but he doesn’t stop.

his eyes are screwed shut, gritting his teeth to fight the overstim because your warm cunt just feels so damn good, his dick doesn’t soften in the slightest.

you’re keening for him, making his toes curl with how sweet you sound for him, his name passing your lips in broken whimpers. diluc’s inhibitions are almost entirely gone at this point. he’s fucking into you with abandon, sloppy because it’s his first time. threads of his cum connect your bellies, joining you, hot and sticky. traces of it have mixed with your slick, making his thick cock nice and slippery as it drags and pulls at your tightening walls.

that something has been building low, so low in your belly. an ache so dull and so deep, a pressure you’ve never felt before. your squelching walls have been closing in with every delectable tug of diluc’s fat cock.

“ohh…hhnn~diluc?” you keen.

“yeah?” he pants, still thrusting, addicted to the soft, velvety slick of your pussy sucking him in harder.

“h-harder…just a little harder…”

he wants to get on his knees, push your thighs back, and fuck you properly, but this time is special and he would rather stay close to you, even through his haze of wanton lust and unbridled passion. so instead, he bends his knees out beside you, panting with the occasional grunt against the pulsing artery in your neck as he presses hard against your cervix with every pump of his cock.

“gods, y/n,” he whispers, “you feel so…so good.”

he shifts, angling the curve of his cock just right against a spot deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed until now. the last thing you remember is watching the rich boy’s lean abs flexing, sweat dripping down his sides as he humps his slick shaft in and out, in and out, in and out. he drives you right up to a terrible height until you feel...

weightless.

you’re hanging in the air just before the freefall when a sharp heat courses out from your center to the very ends of your nerves at lightspeed. you barely hear yourself cry out for him as your walls convulse and spasm around his length. he watches, wide-eyed as he fucks you through your first orgasm, slow and deep with full, passionate thrusts. the sound of his name falling desperately from your lips, the sounds of all your shared fluids - sweat, slick, cum, tears - they go right to his head as his hips keep right on snapping into yours.

“gonna~ mmnnhh~ make me cum again~” a strangled groan escapes diluc’s open lips.

shame you’ll never get to see just how tightly his little asshole winks while his cock jerks his cum inside your pussy for the very first time, painting your walls creamy white. his thick seed leaks from your tight opening as you continue to glide on his cock from below. you kiss him, his quick breaths catching in his throat as he rides out his orgasm.

your lips graze as you both come down from your respective highs together, noses nudging between lazy kisses. diluc rolls off of you, some of his warm seed oozing out of you when his softening dick slips out. he rests his hand above your hip and pulls you to him until the side of your face is pressed against his warm chest, his heart still thumping at a fast pace. you place tender butterfly kisses against his flushed skin as he presses his lips to the top of your head. you lie there together, basking in the long-desired feeling of being in each other’s arms, two sweaty bodies shimmering in the moonlight as you mindlessly trace your names on the other’s back until diluc feels you shiver.

“come on,” he says, sitting up. “let’s get dressed and go back to my place for a hot bath.”

slipping your shirt on, you hesitate. “but…adelinde and the others…they’ll know.”

zipping his pants before shoving his soiled boxers into his pocket, he says, “they already know. they’ve been hounding me about us for years.”

you look up at him, a wide grin gracing your features. “'us'? really?”

he simply nods with a smirk, holding his coat open as you slip it on again. it’s heavy, but the weight is comforting and familiar, protective like armor. “i think nothing would make them happier.”

you help him fold your blanket before wrapping your arms around his waist. “will you carry me on your back?” you ask, standing on your tiptoes to punctuate your request with a kiss.

“of course,” he chuckles softly, kissing you back before turning around and crouching. “hop on.”

with your legs hooked over his arms, he carries you back to the winery. you prop your chin on his shoulder, catching your scent on him and giggling every time his hair tickles your face in the breeze.

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ diluc m.list

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ happy birthday to diluc! it's after midnight where i am, but it's still his bday somewhere! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed reading this. thank you, loves! 💋

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rolanslide · 17 days

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Thinking about how Fig and Gorgug were at the highest risk of being directly manipulated by Porter, since they were his students.

Porter had the punk-rock archdevil of rebellion going through an identity crisis and the half-orc barbarian with a history of bullying and anger issues directly under his thumb. He refused to sign Gorgugs MCAT because he wasn't angry enough, he encouraged Fig to worship the corrupted Ankarna instead of Cassandra, he directly manipulated them both into giving into their anger. And yet, in spite of that, it didn't work. Neither of them got a rage token.

And it didn't work because underneath the teen angst and anger, Gorgug and Fig are caring, good kids. Fig, even at the beginning of Freshman year when she was at her most angsty, still cared deeply about others, even when she didn't want to. She cares about her friends and family and being kind more than anything, and always has. Gorgug has always been self-aware of his anger issues, even when he wasn't good at coping with them. He allows himself to be angry and violent when it protects him and the people he loves. Even when the stress got to him, and his short-temper made itself known, he never wavered in caring for his loved ones. And more importantly, Gorgug and Fig have incredible friends and incredible families who supported them when everything became too much. Adaine and Riz taking stress for Gorgug genuinely may have been the difference between Gorgug getting or not getting a rage token.

They were set up, in many ways, to become Porters pawns, and they responded + L + ratio + loser says what?

#fhjy spoilers #it's all love now #anyway. I've been thinking about this all day #gorgug thistlespring #fig faeth #d20 #porter cliffbreaker #fantasy high

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upsidedownmvnson · 1 year

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dungeons and douchebags | eddie munson

where eddie munson kills your dnd character out of spite & you end up in the hospital in the same day. eddie, of course, blames only himself.

full fic of this blurb :)

AN: i named the third guy keith bc he needed a name, and if his role was pre-established im SORRY but hes a mage. a lot of the dnd stuff im sure is wrong and doesnt work but let me live

also i love this so u should to

also also I KNOW ITS A SHITTY THING FOR A DM TO DO - thats the point

Eddie’s annoyed with you when you’re not on time for Hellfire.

You know he’s sensitive about starting on time, but still you were running late again, even though this time you promised it would be different, and you would even be early.

And Eddie had foolishly believed you again. It hurt especially, because even though you were just friends, Eddie was so painfully in love with you. All day every day, he was pining, yearning, longing. You were on his mind all the time, and you... you couldn't even bother to be on time for Hellfire.

When he begged you to be on time earlier in the day, he had made sure to mention that it would mean a lot to him if you were on time. And he thinks that if you love him back, you'll definitely care when he communicates something like that.

He knows he shouldn't let himself feel like this, but every Friday he's reminded that he's not special to you. He's not the one person you're always on time for. Eddie thinks, somehow, that if you're on time for Hellfire, well then maybe you like him too. It's silly, but it's what he does. It gets more painful as time goes on and you're still not there.

The mood slowly shifts to something tense as time ticks on. You’re always a couple minutes late but nearly an hour? Eddie is painfully frustrated, and his feelings are hurt. Eddie has overthught himself to a dramatic conclusion that you've decided you're above Hellfire.

While the party chats on totally unaware, barely even recognizing that they still haven't started, Eddie thinks you've looked in the mirror and recognized that you're better than them. That you can, and should, have everything and everyone you want. He thinks you'll want to be with a jock. Or maybe a cheerleader. He thinks you've decided not to love him.

In a fit of self pity and rage, he decides to leave your character behind, so the party left you alone, sleeping in a cave.

"Attention," Eddie says, "the sun is rising. It's time to pack your bags and move on."

Dustin looks confused, "where's y/n?"

"Who knows?" Eddie tries to look unamused to hide his pain, but it slips, and ends up just looking angry.

Eddie rolls a perception check for you to see if you wake up. He rolls an 18. And with your build you would've noticed the group leaving without you. Eddie is still think about you in the arms of a jock. "She fails." Eddie looks at the group with an evil grin. "You leave the camp unnoticed."

As the game goes on, Eddie feels crappy. He's never cheated like that before. Like, sure, he's changed a roll or two to make the plot better, or to not totally kill one of his players because some random NPC got a nat 20. That was his right as DM. But... leaving you like that was less than cool.

But even worse, when they return to the cave later, you're stuck in a bandit situation. Eddie really, truly, genuinely expected the party to save you. Except, one thing led to another, and you were stabbed through stomach, making you bleed out. Normally, this is where you'd roll your life saving throws.

It wasn't really supposed to play out like that. But he didn't expect the party to roll such terrible throws, all of them accidently leaving you defenseless. Eddie kinda feels bad, but you hurt him first.

What he doesn't expect is Steve Harrington bursting into the drama room, looking frenzied, just a few moments later. The party halts. The last thing happening in the game was the party finishing off the last bandit, and running to your aid. But now, they were all just staring at Steve. Eddie approached his friend, worried about the look in Steve’s eyes.

Steve stood up straight, and cleared his throat. Weakly he says, “something terrible happened.”

And then Steve tells them all about your car accident, and Eddie feels sick. His knees buckle, and Steve has to hold him up. He’s totally disoriented by this news. He feels his heartbeat pounding behind his eyes, and his ears ring loudly, barely registering the panicked talking going on around him

“They're alive,” Steve was shouting, but because people weren’t letting him talk, he had to keep shouting it over the hundred questions. They wouldn't be able to handle it. Not again. Not when Max still hasn't woken up. “Eddie? Can you hear me buddy?”

But Eddie was in shock. He was blaming himself. He killed you.

“Can you walk? I'll drive you,” Steve says, as Gareth searches Eddie's pockets for the keys to the van. “Dustin, get over here, help me get Eddie to the car.” Eddie overhears Jeff tell everyone to meet at the van.

As soon as they get moving, the adrenaline starts pumping through Eddie’s body. He was suddenly able to break free of his friends' aid and pick up his pace, and the three of them ran through the school and into the parking lot. The dim light Steve parked by was flickering, putting a weak spotlight on Eddie as he tugged the door handle on the passenger seat

“Let me unlock it,” Steve snapped, fumbling the keys in his hand. He dropped them, the pressure of Eddie’s stare was kinda terrifying. He got the door open and unlocked the others.

When they were in the car, Eddie was finally alert, if anything overaware.

“What the fuck is going on?” he snapped.

No one said anything. There was nothing they could say that would make Eddie feel better, or calm down. Steve sped out of the parking lot, blowing the stop sign. He really shouldn't have, given the whole reason you were in the hospital.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn't happening. He was wrong. He was being petty and he was hurt because he thought you were being a dick but you were - he was gunna throw up - you were somewhere bleeding. While he was busy killing you, you were actually laying on the asphalt after a violent car crash. And he was thinking you're an asshole

“Their character died,” Eddie said, “I've killed them.”

“It's not gunna happen,” Steve said, gripping the steering wheel. It was a statement he couldn't back up.

At the hospital, Eddie barely waited for the car to stop before he was running inside, tripping over his own feet as he rushed to get to you. dustin was hot on his trail and steve was parking the car.

Eddie saw Nancy with Jonathan over by the nurse's station, and when Nancy saw him, she came hustling over, putting her hands on Eddie's arms. Dustin spoke quietly with Jonathan in the background.

“Relax,” she said, “please breath. They’re okay right now, they’re in surgery, and it's going really well, okay?”

“Wheeler?” Eddie asked, eyes filling with tears he had no control over.

“It has to be fine,” Nancy said, “sit with me.” Nancy Wheeler was not going to lose another friend today. Not again.

And with no other options he listened, following Nancy to an uncomfortable plastic chair that squeaked when he sat. Nancy held his hand over the stiff arm rests, but he didn't find any comfort. He didn't think he would until he was with you again.

Jonathan sat beside Nancy, giving her a sad smile and handing her a bitter coffee. He sat quietly, letting Nancy give Eddie her attention. Dustin sat on the other side of Eddie, also opting to stay quiet. What was anyone supposed to say?

Honestly, the only thing Eddie wanted to hear was your voice.

Nothing changed for the first two days. But on the third day, the only change was in Eddie. He went from sitting quietly by your side to scribbling stuff in a notebook like a crazy person. He would also dip out to go use a library computer, or "check on some things," as he explained to Nancy.

Her and Steve were mutually concerned about Eddie's state. He was constantly babbling about saving you, and how he's figured it out they just have to succeed.

Everyone else got a chance to be worried when they got a call Tuesday saying there was a mandatory Hellfire meeting and anyone not in attendance would be left behind, and unwelcome for the rest of the campaign. He couldn't risk a single missing member. Not with the stakes...

Tuesday evening, Gareth, Jeff, and Keith are the first to arrive. They are curious as to what the hell their bandmate had cooked up, but they were more worried than excited. Eddie hadn't exactly been himself the last couple of days.

They don't expect a set up even more elaborate than usual. The lights are red and blue, making the room feel eerie, and small.

"Welcome to Hell," Eddie said, grinning and holding his arms open wide.

Gareth and Jeff exchanged a look, but were too nervous to speak. Eddie didn't want to explain the objective twice, so he waited for the rest of the party to arrive before he said anything, but the look in his eye feels sinister. His friends suddenly realized how truly fucked Eddie would be if anything happened to you.... like... for keeps.

When the rest of the party is there, they look to Eddie expectantly, but he just continues to smile like a maniac and tells everyone to take their seats. Dustin is confused to see Steve Harrington sneak into the room and lean against the wall.

"I cheated," he says when he has the attention of the flock, "y/n didn't fail the perception check, and therefore their death wasn't fair. However, death is death. So we're going to have to bring them back."

Dustin notices that Steve Harrington's presence is not explained.

Nancy sits at your bedside like she has for the better part of the last four days. She holds a book in one hand, and the other rests casually beside you, near your hand. She looks at you, and then her hand. She gets a supernatural chill.

She puts her book down, and speaks your name quietly, looking for any sign of life from you. One more day of your glass features and she was going to crumble. Nancy shakes the bizarre feeling from her head, and pats your hand.

She shocked when you're ice cold to the touch. She recoils, pulling away fast. But after the initial shock fades, she touches you again. There was no way that was right, right? You were freezing. What the hell was that about? Nancy starts a search for a blanket to warm you up.

A mage freezes your body. The party scavenges for anything that can help and then leave the cave, your frozen body in tow. Another player can't make life saving throws for you, so they were thinking outside the box. They would take you deep, deep into an ancient necromancer's lair, and steal the resurrection stone from around his neck.

Nancy returns with a simply grey blanket, and a very friendly nurse. They had gotten to talking, and Nancy has simply explained how cold you had been, having not thought too much of it. The nurse, Sophie, had decided to come check it out too.

"Oh my gosh," Sophie says, feeling the ice cold skin. "Oh my gosh, she's like ice!"

And leaves Nancy feeling a little worried as she scurries out of the room. It was like she'd never seen anything like it. Nancy feels uneasy, and makes a quick phone call from your bedside phone. Jonathan picks up, and as soon as he hears the concern in her voice, he's on the way.

Nancy hangs up, picks the phone back up, and calls Steve. He picks up on the first ring.

"Something is like... actually happening over here," she whispers, shocked to even be saying it.

"No shot," he says, nearly laughing at the idea. He whispers the next part so the group doesn't hear anything, "I thought we agreed Eddie was just crazy, and this whole 'saving her character will save her' was just to show him that he didn't cause all this."

"I know we did," she said, "but y/n is cold as ice."

Eddie's voice booms as he narrates the perilous journey. After trap rooms, fighting devil dogs, two gargoyles, and a Molydeus that nearly killed Mike. They had made it into the inner sanctum, but had all failed to roll perception upon entering, and set off a fire trap. One that melted the spell on you, leaving you warm enough to die. "Hurry!" Dustin shouted, "engage the necromancer! Hit 'em with everything we got."

Nancy is already back into her book, Jonathan sitting on the floor beside her, leaning his head against the armrest, while she dangles a dainty arm over his shoulder, letting it lay relaxed on his chest. A single beep draws her attention. She notices something different, but she can't say what. Your cheeks are rosy.

Nancy brings her hand off of Jonathan, drawing his attention too. She puts a cool hand against your forehead, and is again shocked by how you feel. You're burning up. You're fucking hot. Like boiling. Nancy runs to find Sophie again.

The turn is Keith's, his mage more powerful than the others, but instead turns his attention to your character. "I cast flesh to stone on y/n!" the mage shouts. "She'll die if she stays like this." "Roll for it!" "18!" "Pass!" Your body is frozen again, this time encased in stone. Another stall, and Eddie knows the party is running out of time.

"You have to feel her head," Nancy says, speed walking with the bubbly nurse hot on her trail. Sophie complies, and gasps.

"It's not possible," she says quietly, "I'm getting the doctor. There's something strange about your friend."

Nancy looks down at you, and jumps out of her skin when the machines start beeping wildly. All of them making different noises, all of them loud. Sophie rushes back in, with more staff behind her. Nancy and Jonathan are ushered out of the room by a woman who explains that you're in a code blue, which means they have to resuscitate you.

Nancy looks around the white hallway. She's overwhelmed and underpaid.

"Stay here," she tells her boyfriend. "This is crazy!"

But she runs off before she explains anything else. She's after a phone, which she finds with no trouble. She fishes a quarter out of her pocket, and uses it to call Steve again. He picks up as fast as last time, desperate for something other than watching dnd.

"Whatever they're doing, tell them to hurry up!" she's shouting, drawing the attention of patients and staff around her. "Something's happening! She's not breathing!"

The necromancer stands injured. The party cornering him, making him cower. He trembles, and begs for his life. He explains that the party came to his home, killed his people, and now wish to rip off the very thing that keeps him alive. "I stab him through the heart, and I take the necklace." Dustin says. As he looks at Steve, he thinks he understands what's going on. "Roll." "For what?" "Dexterity." Dustin rolls his die. The table is silent. The little D20 lands. the group erupts when they see the Nat 20 he rolled, effectively grabbing the necklace and throwing it around your neck from a metre away like horseshoe. As it lands on you, the ground shifts under the party's feet. Everyone stares in silence, both in the campaign and real life. Your character opens her eyes, coughs, and rises.

The party roars to life at the table, cheering at a job well done and slamming hands on the table in excitement. But the cheers are short lived, silence coats the room but this one is different. It's serious, eery. They can see that Steve looks worried, and he's trying to get Nancy to answer him, but he's getting nothing. looking at Steve expectantly. Apparently, everyone had figured out what the plan was. They all knew they were trying to wake you up. Steve says nothing. Just hangs up the phone, looking up with a disappointed frown.

"The line went dead."

Steve is once again driving Eddie to the hospital. And he's a nervous wreck. You're like schrodinger's cat. Eddie doesn't know if you're alive or not. He chews on the side of his thumb during the entire ride. The rest of the club was waiting patiently in the drama room. Eddie and Steve promised to call as soon as they knew anything.

Eddie can't fucking breath as he sprints down the hospital hallways, ignoring every sign and person telling him not to. He doesn't care. He has to get to you.

Wheeler is outside your room talking to a doctor, but with her back to him he couldn't see the bright, beautiful smile on her face talking excitedly about your miraculous recovery. Eddie runs right passed her to your room, and uses the doorframe to propel himself in, scaring both you and Jonathan who had been sitting quietly.

You look pale, and there are bags under your eyes. But you're sporting a weak smile, shaky hands holding a cup of lime jello. Eddie can't help but smile. You're awake, sitting up, and smiling at him. He has to laugh at the like, ten empty jello packages. Jonathan slips out the door without a word, and Eddie takes his seat by your bed.

"I was so fuckin' scared," Eddie says, tears falling from his eyes before he could even process it. He hadn't realized.

You hold your hand out for him and whisper, "Eddie," and he looks up, puppy dog eyes glossy with lingering tears, and heartbreaking to see. He takes your hand. "You didn't do this."

And he cries harder, leaning down and holding your hand to his forehead and begging your forgiveness anyway. "I did," he cries, "out of spite and jealousy, I tried to hurt you, and I did. I let them leave you alone. I made them and I cheated-"

"-Eddie-"

"-and you should've seen the party-"

"-Eddie, seriously-"

"-leaving because you totally passed the, ow, hey!"

You had flicked him on the nose, his babbling giving you no other choice, but as usual he was being dramatic, you hadn't actually hurt him at all.

"Eddie, stop, and listen to me," you say, "you didn't do this. You're not actually all powerful, you know that, right?"

"But-"

"But nothing," you say, smiling. "But Nancy told me that you saved me so no hard feelings."

Eddie smiles back at you, letting you wipe the tears leftover on his flushed cheeks. He leans into your touch and your heart swells. In your mind, you beg him to kiss you. You beg and plead and hope that this will be the time he makes a move.

He knows this is his chance, he leans closer to you, slowly, gauging your reaction. "Is this okay?" he whispers, when he's just an inch from your lips. You feel his breath as he speaks and you can't resist, pushing yourself forward to close the gap. And he kisses you like he's kissed you a hundred times before. Like he already knows everything you will like, even before you do. His lips are so fucking soft against yours, all plush and warm and taking over your senses.

"Well, I guess I can tell the others that you're fine," Steve says, and Eddie pulls away from you. His sudden absence is cold.

"I saved her," Eddie says, grinning. "Nancy said so."

the hair on the back of will's neck having a disco party during this entire fic

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fiction #stranger things s4 #stranger things #stranger things 4

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artist-issues · 9 months

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also, about Anakin—I distinctly remember realizing when I was first watching Star Wars that part of what makes Anakin’s relationship with Obi-Wan so compelling is that his love for Obi-Wan is as much forbidden as his love for Padme.

I mean, here’s this kid who’s too old to be trained as a Jedi, not because he’ll be prideful or have to catch up or anything, but because he’s old enough to have already learned how to get attached. And the Council was right; he never, ever unlearns that.

But the very first person aside from Padme that Padawan Anakin got attached to was Obi-Wan. And so all through his training, as he’s growing up and Obi-Wan is growing up too, Anakin is thinking “this is my guy. This is my older brother, this is my best friend, this is the only father I’ve ever known” and just recently discovered that someone like that (Qui-Gonn) can be killed and ripped away from you.

All through his training, that fierce attachment is growing, even more steadily than his love for Padme because he’s never separate from Obi-Wan…and the difference is, Obi-Wan shuts it down. It’s obvious that they love one another like brothers, but Obi-Wan never says it until Anakin is lying like chopped-up charred hibachi on the banks of Mustafar.

I mean, imagine having a father or older brother who you know loves you, but who refuses to say so? Except through his actions, almost in spite of himself?

And then imagine yourself as someone who never gets on board and believes in the code that says you can’t attach? So you know that your father-brother-figure is a hypocrite, about, like, the thing you think is the most important and also the stupidest part of the code?

Because he can’t say it! Because he’s supposed to be teaching Anakin not to get attached—what’s he gonna do, tell Anakin “I’m so glad you’re safe” every time they escape an adventure? Tell Anakin he doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost him? Remind Anakin that he cares? And then say “but attachment is bad. Trust the Force.” No, he’s not going to do that. He’s going to keep that aloof-thing going, even though Anakin knows Obi-Wan loves him.

So Anakin, a very dramatic young man who likes his declarations of affection super up-front, never gets that from Obi-Wan. And he’s so sensitive in the Force, and they’re so connected for such a long time—he must be feeling, constantly, that Obi-Wan loves him too. But Obi-Wan never says it. And even though Anakin knows why, it’s a constant source of frustration, because Anakin doesn’t actually respect the code and he doesn’t see why Obi-Wan does.

So constantly, Anakin feels like Obi-Wan is hiding affection for him, or withholding it. Keeping something good for him back. He’s feeling like Obi-Wan is, on some level, a little two-faced. He’s feeling like Obi-Wan’s willing enough to save his life and stick up for him—clearly Obi-Wan is attached—but coming out and saying it? Admitting it: “hey little bro, I know you’re attached to me but you have to stop; it’s not the Jedi way. I know how you feel, I’m attached to you too—we’ll just have to figure that out together?”

No, he never does that. Not until it’s way too late, and Anakin has already conflated Obi-Wan’s refusal to express their bond out loud with how deceitful and two-faced the Jedi are, and they have to be enemies.

which, you know, understandable, considering who Obi-Wan is as a character. but still.

Yeesh. I love this character, I feel like he was when I first started thinking about the tangled web of character motivations and conflicts, but the poor guy.

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cod-dump · 3 months

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"Marry a girl of equal class and higher" man knew he could spite his parents by marrying a very sketchy Russian with a concerning amount of guns in his truck.

previous next

___

Price knows nothing about his family’s life, how they had gotten on over the years. A part of him hopes they’re all alive, and that one of them had been keeping an eye on his social media. Just so they could see how much he has thrived.

He’s made posts over every tattoo, every serious partner. Many posts about him ‘stealing’ his married best friend from her wife to go to soccer games. And many posts about his handsome coworker. Those posts were vague because Price wasn’t mentally prepared for Laswell or Nik learning who he as talking about.

Then things started going well with Nik. More posts with him in them. And, eventually, a vague post mentioning a court signing — Price married someone with no ceremony. And by the previous posts, it was clear who he married.

He wanted them to see how happy he was, how much happier he was compared to when he was still under their control. But. Price didn’t care enough to reach out, to do any investigation of his own. It would be too easy to look in and see what was happening with his family, way too easy. But he never cared enough to.

He just hoped that one of them was stalking his posts, that one of them saw how damn happy he was in his life. Even if his most recent post was him complaining about Ghost stealing his car and wrecking it — He was happy.

#call of duty #modern warfare #john price #cod nikolai #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #drabble #pricenik

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elleloquently · 8 months

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the wretched and joyful : ellie williams

life in jackson has been life with ellie williams, your best friend that you've spent nearly every day with. it was easy to ignore the butterflies or shaking hands, until ellie starts to pull away and you're left with untangling the feelings all on your own.

| a/n - excited to finally share the intro for my new multi part fic! i have so much planned for this. had to have an intro showing cute friendship stuff before it all gets destroyed. if you enjoyed reading this, please consider commenting/reblogging! <3 | c/w - general themes : ellie williams x female reader. mentions of violence, jealousy, best friends (to enemies) to lovers, angst, mutual pining, slow burn. this fic is purely for fun. with that being said, every single detail will not be canon compliant. if that may bother you, this might not be the fic for you! thank u!

you had almost died before you had made it to jackson.

you didn't really know why you weren't dead. you weren't really sure why the man with the gun took pity on you that day. maybe it really was your weakness that had saved you.

weakness, or plain stupidity. it didn't matter anyway.

when you were surrounded by a group of people on horses, you were fighting for sensibility. the lower halves of their faces had been covered with scarves acting as masks, and you didn't know if they were the bandits that assumably slaughtered your previous group or members of a rumored safe haven.

you had been scared and exhausted, fighting for your life even though you weren't even sure if that was what you wanted anymore. you yelled and spat out threats to spite the tears in your eyes, anything to defend yourself before your lungs would surely give out. driven purely by nerves, you continued waving your weapon around even when the man leading the group ordered you to drop it.

it was practically a death sentence. it should've been a death sentence, but it wasn't.

their promises of safety fell on deaf ears until you actually saw the place. even then, it was months until you got a decent night of sleep.

the man who was the first to point his gun at you, tommy, was also the first to lower it. you don't know what made him save you that day, but when you arrived at jackson he almost seemed amused.

in passing, he spoke to another man that you later learned to be joel.

"get ready for a case of deja fucking vu," tommy had muttered.

you didn't know what it meant, and you didn't know how to decipher the look that plastered itself onto joel's face.

you were the last surviving member of your group before jackson, or at least that's what you had to assume. nobody really believed that you had made it that far on your own, especially considering the state that you were in. you knew that they were weary about another group coming and looking for you, despite your honest confessions.

before jackson, before you were alone, you had been taken in by a group. the QZ was threatening to fall any day, and they had heard whispers. talk of safe communities throughout the states. with the information they had compiled across time, one of the rumors was bound to be true. you weren't admittedly close with any of the adults but on the night of chaos, they convinced you to join them.

you wanted to believe that they cared for you, but the truth lingered in the back of your mind. you knew that they knew that you wouldn't make it out. you wanted to believe that they were truly good, but when you shared your story with tommy, maria, and joel, you noticed the glances. the looks they shared. you didn't understand it until you were older, and even then it took awhile to come to terms with the truth.

your group wasn't saving you. they weren't looking out for you. they were using you. you were bait.

on the day that you had lost them, they told you to stay put in the woods. they told you that you would be safe there, because they weren't sure about what was up ahead. if the coast was clear, they would come back for you.

it wasn't true.

they had thought that they were heading into safety, and leaving you behind was a distraction to the bandits that had been hot on your trail. they had been wrong. they walked straight into trouble, and you went undetected.

and they had thought that you didn't stand a chance.

well, they were wrong. now all of them were dead and you were still here.

if only they stayed put, maybe they would've been saved too.

you were just about sixteen on the day that jackson opened itself up to you.

now, a few years later, you were proud to call jackson your home.

you had your own home, a house (though you swore that if the day ever came and jackson's population grew dramatically, you would be the first to offer it up. it was a compromise for allowing you to live on your own) to call your own, and friends. a community.

there weren't many people your age compared to the QZ, considering, but still somehow more than you had expected.

your first friend was dina, sent to check in on you days after you had first arrived in jackson. maria was concerned that you wouldn't be a good fit after you had stayed inside, hesitant to show your face. dina had knocked on your door, introduced herself, and by the very next day you had been out and about.

then came jesse. and then ellie. and then cat. and then there was less of cat, until your little group had solidified into yourself, dina, jesse, and ellie. you would thank your lucky stars every single day that you had people to relate to, people that you could talk to and really trust.

dina and jesse were great. so was ellie, just... differently. not in a bad way though. never in a bad way. joel had originally warned you that she could be a little rough around the edges, but you didn't get that. you talked about a lot of things pretty quickly. you never really knew what it was like to have a best friend, but you were pretty sure that ellie was it.

you were practically attached at the hip, once upon a time. though it became lesser and lesser as time went on, you still had a certain fondness for ellie in your heart that no one else seemed to match.

it's not that you stopped being friends, because you still hung out just about every single day. she just seemed a little different. less comfortable maybe, and a little more jaded. not that you blamed her. it was just difficult trying to decipher how she would feel each day. sometimes, ellie made you feel as though you were the most important person in the world. other times, she always seemed to keep you at an arm's length. more so lately than ever before. maybe she was getting a little sick of you, or maybe she was just drained from patrol. whatever it was, your feelings never seemed to waver.

"you're late," you observed, squinting over at the figure approaching you.

"hardly. patrol took longer than we thought. don't get picky," the figure warned, reaching a hand out to you.

you ignored the gesture, pulling yourself up from the curb in which you were sat.

"a plan is a plan, williams."

the tone of your scolding was half-hearted and the crease on ellie's forehead eased.

"any chance at a rain check?" ellie asked.

the softness of her tone made you do a double take, scanning her features for any sign of unhappiness. ellie looked fine though, just tired.

"i promised addie that i'd bring you. she's been wanting to talk to you, you know."

"i don't know what for," ellie muttered begrudgingly, but you knew that it was only because she was feeling shy.

adeline hollis was an older woman residing in jackson. you had grown close throughout your time spent there, pretty much depicting her as a familial figure in your life. besides dina, she was one of the first people to actually talk you.

mrs. hollis was quick-witted, kind-hearted, and exceptionally good with a needle. she fixed up clothes for you often, and managed to turn any stray fabrics into articles of clothing that you actually felt proud of. you felt safe around her, allowed to be vain and wish for pretty things despite the state of everything else.

you shrugged and took a few steps, allowing ellie to decide whether or not she was going to follow after you.

"doesn't matter," you brushed off. "besides, she was fixin' up joel's boots, you can play delivery girl."

"you're annoying today," ellie complained, and you knew that she was following you because the sound of her voice was pretty close.

"i'm in a good mood," you replied, frowning as the words left your lips. were you?

you could never give yourself much time to think about it. it wasn't worth a second thought anyway, not now.

"right," ellie snorted, finally appearing at your side.

the sun was so bright that it felt warm, the feeling of late spring tangible wherever you went.

you glanced at ellie briefly, not trusting yourself to look more than once. her cheeks were turning pink from the sun and she looked sleepy. it made your heart swell.

you didn't knock once you had made it to the familiar front door - you knew that you didn't need to.

"addie!" you called into the home, leaving ellie to follow in after you. "we're here!"

you were quickly greeted with a hug, made to feel like each visit was a special occasion despite how frequent they were.

"there you are!" adeline beamed, catching ellie extremely off guard by greeting her with a hug as well. "i'm so glad you girls are here."

"hi mrs. hollis," ellie mumbled, a bashful smile adorning her lips. ellie's cheeks were red from the interaction and you cleared your throat to stifle a giggle.

"do you have it?" you inquired, prompting ellie's confusion from the way in which your eyebrows danced with the question.

"you'll love it," adeline assured, swiftly exiting the room and leaving you to bounce on your feet.

ellie managed to scoot her way closer to your side, leaning into you as she spoke. "what are you-"

"don't you love it?" adeline expressed confidently, holding up a long, flowing piece of fabric.

except, it wasn't just a piece of fabric anymore. adeline had worked it into a skirt for you, and your eyes widened in adoration.

"addie!" you squealed, rushing forward and hugging the material against your chest. ellie's presence was momentarily forgotten, nearly, until you spun around and held up the skirt to her.

"don't you love it?" you gushed, and ellie looked robotic in the way that she bobbed her head.

you examined the fabric closer. the faded, dainty floral pattern covering the skirt was more than you could've hoped for.

"i love it," you breathed, looking to adeline with wet eyes. if ellie didn't feel so uncomfortable, she probably would've snickered at you. "truly, thank you so much. this is beautiful," you admired.

"please," adeline waved a hand. "it keeps me busy. and you," she faced ellie, singling her out. "i don't know what that man does all day to put those godforsaken shoes in such a horrible shape."

ellie looked dumbfounded, and this time you didn't shy away from releasing your giggles.

"joel's boots are by the door," adeline sighed.

"right. thank you," ellie responded, moving to collect them as quickly as she could.

you bid farewell to adeline, expressing your gratitude about five more times until she all but pushed you out of the door. lovingly, of course.

ellie begrudgingly carried the boots as you twirled and skipped and admired your new article of clothing.

"we gotta go out now, do something special," you joked.

"yeah? what's the occasion?"

a quick glare shaped ellie up quickly.

"don't you think it's pretty?" you asked, desperate for a compliment despite the fact that you weren't even wearing it yet.

"i do," ellie agreed, quick to please you. "it's perfect for you."

"it is, isn't it?" maybe you really were in a good mood today. a real one. "what about dina and jesse?"

"what about them?" ellie mused, watching as you held the skirt carefully in your hands, not allowing it to drape on the ground.

"off?" you questioned thoughtfully, wrinkling your nose in ellie's direction.

ellie shook her head.

"really?"

"really. dina and jesse are back on. as of... yesterday?" ellie contemplated.

"wow, news travels slow i guess," you joked, causing ellie to nudge your arm.

"don't worry, they'll be broken up again before we know it. it's no use even keeping track anymore."

"ellie! that's mean," you laughed, shaking your head.

ellie felt a little guilty for teasing behind their backs but really, it was getting ridiculous. besides, the sound of your laughter eased the guilt pretty damn quick.

"come back with me," ellie changed the subject.

you faltered, nearly tripping over your own foot. "what?"

"to mine," ellie clarified. "give joel his-" she swung the boots at you, acting as if she was going to throw them. "-disgusting old new shoes."

your heart skipped a beat from the invitation and you had already known that you were going to say yes. ellie could have invited you to help her clean out shimmer's stall and you would've said yes without hesitation. speaking from experience, just once or twice...

"sure," you grinned.

if you went with ellie, you would probably spend hours listening to her as she went through her comic collection again. and then you would probably end up falling asleep. and then you would probably stay the night. you would share the bed, normal, and get a sick feeling in your stomach whenever her leg accidentally grazed your own, not normal.

determined to cling onto the feeling of a good day, you swallowed down the not normal feelings, as you usually did.

ellie looked at you and smiled, like genuinely grinned, and your fingertips went numb.

"last one there cleans shimmer after patrol," ellie taunted, the reason behind her smile no longer feeling pure.

"what?" you laughed in disbelief, just before ellie took off.

"ellie!" you shouted, fumbling to quickly catch up to her. "ellie williams! i don't even do patrol!"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"-this one's my favorite though. i mean, look at the cover. isn't it sick?"

ellie shoved the worn comic book in your direction, causing you to blink and raise your head to get a better look.

"it is really cool," you murmured. you knew it was her favorite issue, and you already knew what the cover looked like. still, you loved to hear her talk.

ellie sat up, peering at you. you were laying on your stomach, cheek buried in the blankets of ellie's bed.

"you're just agreeing with me," ellie grumbled, suddenly twinging with annoyance at the way your tank top strap was sliding down your shoulder.

"i'm agreeing with you because i agree," you huffed, wrinkling your nose at her.

ellie placed a firm hand on your hip, shoving you to the side.

"ellie!" you exclaimed, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to wipe the sleep from your system.

"scoot over," ellie instructed, pulling up the blankets.

"hm?" you questioned while you obliged anyway. you wanted to sleep over, to stay with your best friend for as long as possible but you didn't want to be a bother.

"you're sleeping over, aren't you?" ellie acknowledged, holding the covers up for you. the room was dark but lit lightly from the window. ellie prayed that you couldn't see the way in which she held her breath.

you adjusted your body, looking curiously at ellie. "do you mind?"

ellie shook her head, patting the spot next to her. "'course not."

that was all the confirmation that you needed. you slid your body under the blankets, next to ellie but mindful of the distance between yourselves. if you adjusted again you would be touching, so you stayed still and didn't move.

it was quiet, and you couldn't tell if it was awkward or comforting. maybe a little of both, and that was okay.

"are you tired?" you questioned, turning on your side to face ellie.

ellie copied, turning to face you and scanning your features in the dark. "yeah. is that okay?"

"yeah," you whispered. "do you have patrol tomorrow again?"

ellie nodded, and then realized you might not be able to see her. "yeah. with dina. but don't worry about leaving early, okay?"

you sighed, allowing your body to sink further into the bedding.

sleep was enveloping you quicker than expected, but it didn't surprise you based on how comforting you find it to be in ellie's presence. you were nearly off, until ellie's voice broke the silence and threw you out of your sleepy trance.

"it is pretty," she whispered.

"what?"

"your new skirt," ellie replied softly, earning a sleepy grin from you.

you muttered a quiet thank you, cheeks burning and mind whirling. you wanted to say more, but you could tell that ellie was already falling asleep and you didn't want to deprive her of it.

she was so honest, so sweet sometimes. you forced your eyes open, studying the girl sleeping next to you. it made your eyebrows furrow, the way your heart pounded when ellie was this close.

shit.

turning away, you shut your eyes again and willed sleep to come.

it must've, at some point, because before you knew it the sun was causing you to blink awake and you were stretching in an empty bed. the absence never failed to make your stomach drop, even though you already knew where ellie was.

laying alone in your best friend's bed made you feel a certain level of pathetic that was almost unknown.

you could've waited around until she got back, but you forced yourself up and away.

you would see ellie again later anyway, so it was better to have some space to yourself for awhile.

it wasn't anything that you could really make sense of, you just needed to clear your head before ellie was back consuming nearly all of your senses.

it wasn't a big deal, you would tell yourself over and over.

over and over until it felt true.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou x reader #ellie williams x you

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