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#he owns this city fr
synonymroll648 · 8 months
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sokeefitz au where keefe is a magician, fitz is his assistant (who also learned how to sword swallow just to occasionally upstage keefe at his show's because he's petty but doesn't know how to pull a quarter from someone's ear), and sophie is marella's newest friend that's getting dragged to one of keefe's magic shows and holy wow ok marella was not kidding about the magician and his assistant being hot. cue keefe pulling roses out of his sleeve for sophie midshow because he knows a cutie when he sees one (after getting a subtle okay from fitz, who is his boyfriend but most people only know about the childhood friends part). and fitz getting to know her after the curtains close and asking her if she wants to hang out sometime. and keefe crashing that meetup when it happens halfway through because he can't help himself and knows fitz won't mind.
and them becoming friends that hang out a lot outside of shows, and sophie being keefe's most reliable regular. that DEFINITELY aren't flirting, marella, c'mon, fitz leaving out scarves for her to steal at their apartment she now frequents more than her own and learning her favorite treats to bake for her and keefe constantly throwing his arm around her and complimenting her w/ ten million winks is strictly platonic in this context
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saptaincwan · 9 months
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ok but i do wish we'd gotten more development of killian's relationship with the rest of the cast and world idk
more of his friendship with belle. a bit more in-depth exploration of his fucked up feud with rumplestiltskin. more of his time with milah, which could add more layers to his relationships with baelfire and rumple
and above all captain book captain cobra captain charming SNOW WHITEEEE. he's marrying their daughter and they talked like one time about it 😭
captain charming was one of his most developed relationships but i wish we could've gotten to see charming Enthusiastically welcoming killian to the family
AND CAPTAIN COBRAAAAA henry was the person who kickstarted killian's redemption arc. the way he could not abandon bae's son as he himself failed bae. how he grew to care for henry as his own. the change in their dynamic from killian being the coolest guy in storybrooke who took henry sailing often and helping him connect with his dad, to his stepdad and how that affected their relationship.
i think there was a LOT of potential here. i love how the show developed cs's relationship but i do wish we could've seen killian's relationships outside her. how he found so many different kinds of love and things to care about and new wonderful things in This land. how he grew to love it and its people too
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todayisafridaynight · 2 years
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one of my fave things bout minedai is that daigo could do Literally Anything- even the most benign, innocuous thing yet it could unintentionally cause mine to short circuit for the next five hours
#snap chats#ive been having minedai brainrot all day but i dont have the energy or ideas to execute any ideas#so i will simply just ramble bout it until something comes to me#prob wont draw anythin for a bit tho- ive drawn a lot lately and im busy with stuff. Of Which Include Drawing LMAO#listen thats comm stuff its different but anyways let me continue my ramble#i think of a lot of silly lil comics and drawings but the punchline is inevitably Mine Has A Heart Attack Over Daigo Existing#i wouldnt mind drawing that all day but man i cant imagine it'd be fun to see over and over- i guess it depends on execution#but no fr i just keep thinkin of simple shit like. like idk maybe they're walkin in the street together#and just the way they have to shuffle around other people daigo has to press against him for a hot minute#And It Is A Hot Minute mine's screaming internally because daigo's so close and even if theyre in the middle of the city#he's all he can focus on somehow- the way his suit feels and the subtle ways the muscles /under/ his suit shift and move#meanwhile daigo's just I'm So Sorry Mine :( I Didn't Think It'd Be This Crowded Today :(#brb gotta reread some of my fave fics cause they capture this aspect i love so well#god i gotta start writing my own shit though i just love talking about and explorin this idea If Not Just Them In General#but im Not Good at writing <:) or at least it's hard for me to think of an idea idk#once i have an idea then i can pump something out but alas nothing's come to mind#ok i'ma wrap up this ramble because i went all over the place by accident oops </3#i'll be back in one way or another
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screamingay · 8 months
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god that was an awful shift i hate how corporate let us hire more people and then as soon as we put them on the schedule they decided having one more minimum wage server per day (for first shift only!!!) was too much for The Budget. i had to bargain to get someone else to come in today and help me out and it was STILL hell.. rant incoming in the tags
#we're back to 2 ppl on first shift but the new guy cant actually handle floor or dishes on his own so it's basically 1 person#plus someone following behind them to help a bit#apparently they used to have disabled workers as 'interns' just gettimg unpaid experience which is awful but at least#it meant they could actually schedule 2 other people. but i guess they got shit for not paying disabled workers#which i get. but since this new guy makes minimum wage too it means they wont let us schedule another person for first shift#which we desperately need when it's just like. me and him. in an ideal world he would be paid and getting work experience and there would#still be enough people to do the job fully#also all morning i was so scared the safety inspector would pop in bc i was told he would be. so i double checked all the possible hazards#before we opened and he literally stepped into the dining room. took a picture of it on a digital camera. then left#he didnt even come in the kitchen!! christ#but i was still stressed after that and all through lunch bc now residents' families can come in and eat like they used to before covid#and we had 2 of them today and if we fuck it up for them they can complain to corporate and im not used to running a real restaurant!!#we have to act like it's a real restaurant even tho we arent given the same resources or allowances and it's so frustrating#tbh today wouldve been 10 times easier with any other cook bc we had the fucking worst one here today. she gets frustrated when anyone asks#her for anything and she goes on rants about how bad all the other cooks are and she puts WAY too much strain on the dishwasher#using unnecessary dishes and making them wash things she could just rinse herself in the back. AND she's always telling me how to do by job#my job#and what i should do differently! it's distracting!! and makes everything harder bc she will fr just make up rules and treat u like shit if#u ignore her and do it the easier or better way#her home life sucks and she takes it out on all of us all the time. get a divorce and move to the city like you really want#it'll make everyone so much happier#(including you)#i need a new job so bad i get paid nothing to do like 4 jobs at once and im always on a time crunch and it's been absolutely killing my bac#and shoulders and feet#and joie de vivre lmao#if i get a new reliable car soon i could probably make more driving for fucking grubhub#i didnt even eat at work today. almost 8 hours straight of running my ass around the kitchen in my Shoes For Crews black sneakers#and i ate literally One piece of french toast at the very beginning#plus i came in already sick of everything bc the stupid parking garage app i have to use now malfunctioned and wouldnt let me out#bc it didnt have my entrance to the garage last night logged for some reason
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one of the things i for real lose the most sleep over is the worry that one day there will be no more china miéville books for me to read. i have this with andrew rowe too but thats far more theoretical cause my man cranks out banger after banger right after the other without stopping and even if he DID stop all the adjacent books count as andrew rowe books to me, so
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maplesyrupsainz · 2 months
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˖⁺。˚⋆˙MY girl | LN4˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: lando norris x celeb interviewer!reader y/n (she/her)
genre: social media au, established relationship
warnings: a couple of innuendos/sexual references but mainly fluff
summary: in which your job has your boyfriend acting up every other week
a/n: this is kind of short but didnt think it was necessary to make it any longer!?! hope u luv it (i love jealous lando omg my heart cant take itttt)
request!!!: Lando’s gf is a celebrity interviewer like Amelia from chicken shop date and Lando is supportive but also playfully jealous?
my masterlist
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instagram ->
yourusername 📍 london
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liked by aitch, landonorris, and 1,718,293 others
yourusername spent a day in london with my fav british rapper @.aitch !! episode out now hope u enjoy 👀
tagged: aitch
view all 18,284 comments
user1 OMG he was flirting with her so bad
user2 no fr she got a man
user3 yea and her man is LANDO NORRIS likeeee
user4 why are they lowkey cute together.....
user5 i love everything y/n does
user6 does anyone else only watch the series just for y/n idec about the celebrity guests 💀
user7 no coz this is actually so valid
user8 omg i've been waiting for this one
user9 queue lando marking his territory soon
user10 can u blame him
f1wags
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liked by user4, user5, user9, and 43,761 others
f1wags new episode of y/n y/l/n's celeb interview series with british rapper aitch out now 🫶 for anyone who doesn't know, y/n (wag of lando norris) is a celebrity interviewer for events & tv as well as having her own series online in which she “dates” someone for the day, usually in a random city of their choice, and interviews them at the same time in a comedic way !!! the series is super popular, who would you like to see her interview?
view all 5,174 comments
user11 we love her
user12 her interviews r sooo funny and unserious
user13 i want her to interview f1 drivers 😭
user14 omg rightttt imagine lando on there
user15 i want oscar or charles 😂
user16 i didnt even know she was a wag
user17 she's more relevant that her bf HE's the wag
user18 justice for my guy lando
aitch
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 853,903 others
aitch watch me on y/n y/l/n's series for real like that's my girl
tagged: yourusername
view all 12,284 comments
user19 damn
user20 his girl?!
user21 y/n looks so hot
user22 look like a couple fr
yourusername had the best time, thanks for coming on the show!!!
aitch anything 4 u
user23 🤭🤭🤭
user24 CUTIESSS
user25 one of my fav episodes so far
twitter ->
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instagram ->
landonorris posted a story
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liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 822,182 others
user30 omg i screamed
user31 SHE'S SOOO HOTTTT
carlossainz55 somebody's jealous
landonorris of what?
carlossainz55 😂
user32 lando norris you are one lucky man
yourusername omg hello mr protective
landonorris my girl
yourusername you are freaking sexy
landonorris where are you right now
yourusername 👀
landonorris
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,021,843 others
landonorris hey
view all 33,826 comments
user33 "HEY"????
user34 omg
user35 HOTTTTTT
carlossainz55 still not jealous?
landonorris not sure what you're talking about!
user36 you caused this @.aitch
aitch nah
landonorris no
yourusername 🙂
user37 posting this with this caption is criminal
user38 hahaha our jealous boy
user39 little lando norris is jealoussss
yourusername hahah i love you and only you
yourusername posted a story
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 713,028 others
landonorris yup. that's MY girl
THE END 🧡
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rynbutt · 26 days
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pierced. | spencer reid.
Moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.
you can find the other parts on my masterlist.
cw: fem!reader, 18+ piercing, fluffyish, reader has pierced tiddies, flirting, wondering if i should do a part 2 fr
a/n: coming from a pierced nipple girly who wants a cute boy to knock on her door. also enjoy <3 and follow >:) also yay for the first thing i've posted :3
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You let out an exasperated sigh as you collapsed another cardboard box.
Moving into a new apartment was fun in theory, but the practice of filtering through everything you own and finding a neat little spot for it? not so much. You took a long sip from your now cold cup of coffee before glancing across the room at the looming pile of cardboard boxes that just stood there and mocked you.
You picked up the next box of what was probably clothes and took a box cutter to the almost twenty layers of tape across the seam (it wouldn't stay closed, in retrospect you should have made up another box but you were really determined to make it fit at the time).
You ripped the rest of the tape off and put your hands on your hips, glancing at your cat Tofu on the couch.
"Care to help?" you asked... the cat. Tofu proceeded to curl into herself and begin grooming tubby belly. "I guess not."
There was an abrupt knock on your apartment door, Tofu scattering to the wind at the sudden sound. You furrowed your brows, confused as to why anyone would be knocking on your door.
You had moved here a matter of days ago, knew no one and were far too broke for doordash. You ignored it for a moment, thinking whoever resided on the other side of the door had the wrong apartment. When the knock came again, you thought you'd better answer this time.
You opened the door ajar, just in case it was someone who wanted to steal any of the maybe four things you'd managed to unpack. A tall darker skinned man looked down at you, "Yes?"
"Hi ma'am, I'm Agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid, we're with the FBI," he introduced himself, holding up his credentials for you to peek at. You opened the door the rest of the way, glancing at the second tall man standing in your door way. He had messy hair just below his ears and was wearing a collared shirt with two black pens tucked into the pocket over his chest, he was cute. He pulled his lips into a tight line and held his hand up in a wave.
Spencer's eyes glanced down your body briefly. He has certainly seen some strange outfits when people answer their doors but none that made his skin run hot like this.
You wore a baby blue tank top and grey adidas shorts, he could see a small sliver of skin between your two garments but that's not what caught his eye. You had your nipples pierced.
Now, Spencer really didn't mean to stare but they were right there. The air of your apartment was clearly chilly given how your nipples pressed against the fabric. He could see the little studs on either side of your hardened nipples and he felt like a Victorian boy seeing an ankle for the first time.
"Oh no, you found me," you joked, laughing at yourself lightly. They didn't laugh. Your smile dropped, "I'm joking. Uh, come in, please." You stood aside, letting the two men into your basically bare apartment.
"Just move in?" Morgan asked, looking around your small living room.
"Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm starting a new job in a week," You replied, trying to make small talk. "What exactly are you here for?"
"There was a murder in the apartment across from yours," Dr. Reid said abruptly, stealing the air from your lungs.
Your eyes were blown wide, "What?"
"Young woman like you, stabbed to death-"
"Reid," Morgan warned, shaking his head softly at the younger man.
"Shit, that sucks," you replied, glancing between the two men. "I assume you're talking to me because I live close by, huh?"
"It's just procedure," Morgan replied. "Can you tell me where you were around 11pm last night?"
"Uh, yeah. I was here, I had a lot to unpack, you know?" You replied honestly, wondering how you didn't hear that someone was being murdered across the hall.
"And you didn't hear anything?" Morgan asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stood to face you.
"No, no I honestly didn't. I had my headphones on while I was unpacking, I went to bed around midnight." Were you incriminating yourself? Maybe you should make some friends so you don't get caught up in this kind of stuff.
"The UnSub we're looking for is white male, mid 20s to 30s, seems out of place. Have you seen anyone like that around?" Dr. Reid asked.
"No, I mean, I just moved here, I don't know anyone. I haven't left my apartment since I got here," you replied, looking Dr. Reid in the eye. You caught him glancing down at your boobs for a moment before he caught himself, clearing his throat.
It was only then that you realised what you were wearing. Fuck. Two FBI agents, one of whom was your type to a T came to question you about a murder and your nipples were gazing upon the world like a deer in headlights.
You quickly crossed your arms across your chest before scampering across the room to grab your hoodie off your couch. You pulled it over your head before staring at the two men awkwardly, your skin feeling hot.
"I'm sorry about... my attire, I didn't even-"
Morgan smiled, chucking softly, "Please, this is your home, sweetheart." Morgan glanced at Spencer, who suddenly found the ceiling utterly fascinating. "You mind if I have a look around? We suspect he used the fire escape."
"Of course, yeah. You can see it from the bedroom," you replied, being left alone with the cute doctor. "You seem young to be a doctor," you said softly, trying to make small talk.
"Scarring, tearing and nerve damage is possible when you get your," he coughed, "nipples pierced... infections and bleeding are also common," he quickly said, lips pulled into a tight line.
"Mm, cute and smart... well, I've had them for five years so... I think I'm safe, Dr. Reid," you replied with a chuckle.
"Spencer," he muttered.
"Huh?"
"Spencer, it's my name. Spencer Reid," he said, hands clutched tightly around the strap of his leather satchel.
"Spencer," you smiled, "I'm Y/N."
"Well, we better get out of your hair," Morgan returned from your room, glancing between you and Spencer for a moment. "Let's go, Reid."
You opened the door for them, Morgan thanked you as he left and started down the hall to the elevator. Spencer paused for a moment, glancing at you for briefly before walking out the door.
"Hey," you called softly. Spencer spun around to look at you and you definitely couldn't let him escape without your number. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Uh, girlfriend? I, uhm-"
"He doesn't!" Morgan called from down the hall, making you smile.
"You don't know that!" Spencer retorted, making a face at Morgan who was grinning.
"So... you do?" You asked.
"...No, I don't." He muttered.
"Okay, well," you laughed, plucking the pen from the pocket of Spencer's shirt. "Call me sometime," you scribbled your name and number with a little heart onto a scrap piece of paper that once wrapped your toaster.
"Yes... Okay, I will," he replied nervously, holding your number in his hands gently. He glanced at it, a smile beaming across his handsome face.
"You, uh, might wanna go before your partner loses it," you giggled after a beat. Spencer muttered a quick 'oh' before walking quickly toward the elevators.
"Bye," Spencer said softly, waving at you with a little smile.
"Bye, Dr. Reid!"
Spencer stepped into the elevator with Morgan, the silence palpable in the tiny mental container.
"'Bye, Dr. Reid~'," Morgan raised his voice an octave, planning to tease Spencer relentlessly and text the group chat as soon as they got to the car.
"Shut up!"
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reblog and follow me :3 also come chat, i love to yap.
dividers by @cafekitsune
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lovelybluebirdie · 3 months
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What is yours
Astarion x gn!Reader
Summary: A stroll through the market evokes an unpleasant sensation in Astarion.
Word Count: 3,1k
hurt/comfort, jealousy, fluff
[ AO3 ]
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The warm rays of the midday sun bathed the markets’ goods in a marvellous light. The place was bustling, a scent of spices lingering in the air and hurried voices brimming. 
If someone had told Astarion that one day he’d be able to move around Baldur’s Gate so freely again, he’d probably huffed merely a dry laugh – and yet here he was, following you through the narrow streets of his city, admiring how much colour the world had to offer.
Of course it was you who had dragged him along for the mundane task to gather some food for your companions back at camp. Astarion couldn't care less to fill up their bellies, as his own appetite was perfectly stilled from your generosity when it came to offer him your blood, but one blink from your doe eyes had been enough to convince him to accompany you.
Well, that, and perhaps that warm feeling that refused to leave his chest when he was with you. 
It was obvious that you loved to stroll around the market, savouring the colourful impressions while taking a break from all the fighting and gore your journey to rid yourself from the tadpoles held for you. 
Astarion had never watched you spending your coin so lightly before. You probably thought it was time to treat yourself once in a while, and who was he to deny you this little pleasure? He had to admit that he actually adored seeing your face light up over the different trinkets you bought, eagerly filling your bags and pouches with your newest additions.
“Let's get some fruit for the others while we’re at it,” you suggested, pointing towards a merchant presenting an inviting range of fresh goods. “Something nutritious seems much needed after we fed mostly on leftovers for the past weeks.”
Your shoulders were loaded with the various goods you had already bought – dyes, herbs, some new toys for Scratch and the owlbear cub and a bunch of flasks to fill with potions.
“As you wish,” Astarion replied, when a display of weapons caught his eye. His last pair of daggers had become rather blunt from the Goblin throats he’d cut, so maybe it was time to treat himself as well, he thought and gently grabbed your wrist.  
“On second thought, why don't you go ahead while I'll have another look around here, my love?” he asked and came to a stop. “I haven't much expertise to add when it comes to your culinary needs, and those daggers look rather appealing.”
“Sounds fine with me, but try not to spend all of our gold at once,” you teased and squeezed his shoulder.
“Hah, you're one to talk. Please remind me, who was it again that just bought five new toys for Scratch, so he had a set of different colours to choose from?”
“He needs some variety,” you muttered, trying to keep up a serious expression. “But nevermind, see you in a minute then.” 
You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and waved, already on your way to spend some more of your coin.
Astarion couldn’t help but smile over your excitement for the market, before he picked up a dagger from the display in front of him. The handle appeared to be of higher quality than his current ones, and the blade looked sharp enough to inflict some hurt.
As he gazed further through the wares, pondering which one would fit him best, he spared a glance to check on you. 
He spotted you a few stalls away at the fruit stand you had mentioned. The vendor you were talking to gesticulated wildly while presenting his wares, leading you to laugh.
Astarion frowned and put the dagger away to take a closer look.
The vendor was young, an elf with blond curls, and Astarion noticed that he wasn’t an unpleasant sight. 
He was immediately bothered by the smile you gave the other man, the way he touched your hands as he started to offer you bite-sized pieces of fruit to taste.
His fingers lingered too long against yours for Astarion’s liking.
As he continued to watch you from afar, something inside his belly started to seethe – hot and ugly.
A feeling he experienced before when it came to you, but couldn't quite grasp.
Well, whatever this was, Astarion certainly wasn’t jealous. Not of some random street vendor at least – and why should he be? Because you had smiled so sweetly at him? Or because you were laughing again as you took another piece of fruit from his filthy hands? 
What in the nine hells could be so entertaining about buying fruit anyway? 
It was ridiculous, really, and yet Astarion imagined how it would feel to rip the vendor's throat as punishment for daring to touch you. 
Would he bleed out quickly? Would he scream?
Astarion shook his head, shoving the violent image aside.
He remembered the previous occasions when that unpleasant burning inside his stomach had appeared. It was the moment Gale decided it was appropriate to show you his so-called magical weave, or the other day when Wyll proposed a dance to you. You had kindly rejected both of them, but Astarion was still not particularly impressed by their interest in you. 
He knew what others would seek from you. Why they wanted you. For the same reasons he enjoyed being with you: your compassion, the kindness you spread. Your special talent to make him feel seen. 
There was also your wit, the way you would crack a joke even in the most maddening situations, making him feel light. And not to mention, you were a beautiful vision if Astarion had ever seen one.
Of course there would be others who saw those qualities as well, aiming to claim you.
A sudden wave of anxiety flooded his mind, moulding an appaling image in his skull.
He wondered if one day you would prefer someone else over him.
Someone who would match your kindness – acting all selfless and heroic, indulging in activities he found little pleasure in.
Providing you with something Astarion might be unable to give you, ever, no matter how much he cared about you.
Hells, what if you were already seeking someone like that?
His stomach dropped.
The dreadful notion spread its relentless claws past his ribs, tearing holes in his dead heart.
Blood rushed to his ears.
Before he even realised, his feet were already dragging him towards you.
He needed to be close to you – doing anything to make this feeling stop.
When he arrived next to you, he placed a hand on the small of your back and grasped your tunic, a little tighter than he'd intended.
He tried his best to keep his composure.
“Are we all done here, my love?” he asked, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Oh, Astarion!” You smiled when you noticed him, unaware of his musings. Your pouch was filled to the brink with fresh fruits. “Yes, I guess that would be all.”
Astarion felt the need to pull you away, but before he came up with an excuse to leave immediately, the merchant was already addressing you again. 
“Think about it, will you?” A smug grin plastered that man’s face as he spoke to you, casually bending over his counter.
Astarion gave you a confused look.
Think about what? 
“Unfortunately there’s no time to join the tavern tonight, but thank you for the offer. Maybe next time,” you said amicably and packed up your wares.
What was that? 
Astarion thought he must have misheard.
“What a shame. Perhaps you can give it a second thought.” The vendor was still beaming at you, before he turned to Astarion. “Your friend can come too, of course.”
“Oh, that sounds splendid. We will think about it, will we, darling?”
Astarion bit his tongue, swallowing the impulse to spit a cutting remark on top of his obvious sarcasm.
What in the nine hells was this mongrel thinking, inviting you to the tavern? And how he was speaking to him – as if he was some irrelevant bystander.
“Let's see what we can do,” you said politely, already on your way to move on. “Have a nice day. And thank you again.”
“You as well,” replied the salesman and waved. 
Astarion gritted his teeth as he followed you through the busy alleyways, still processing what just happened.
The vendor's words appeared in his mind.
That man had obviously desired to fuck you, and wasn’t even trying to hide his advances.
How could he have dared.
Astarion regretted that he had acted so passive in that moment. Usually he wasn’t one to hesitate, always a sharp comment dancing on his tongue, and yet… the thought of losing you to someone else had shifted something in him, turning him small.
His fury grew.
Oh, how he would love to grab that despicable pig by his throat, banishing that filthy grin of his face. Making him bleed. But he knew that unlike him, you would gladly refrain from a public bloodbath, so he shoved away those violent fantasies, even if the fire continued to seeth in him – unpleasant and hot.
He tried to fathom what posed the worst about this whole ordeal: The way in which the man had aimed to claim you, or his fear that you enjoyed those cheap advances – possibly were fond of it even.
Astarion's mood couldn't have been more sour as you arrived at a secluded area, away from the markets bustling.
“Can you believe it? That seller insisted on giving me a discount,” you broke the silence and pointed proudly at the wares you had gathered. “And they say there are no kind people left in Baldur's Gate.”
And just as the words had left your throat, Astarion finally snapped.
“Is that so?” he hissed, baring his fangs. “How generous. What a nice, handsome gentleman he is, also inviting you to the tavern with him.” He spoke harsh – his tone cold and venomous. 
You came to an abrupt stop, resting the groceries on the ground and fixating your gaze on his, a furrow between your eyebrows. 
“What are you implying?” You sounded puzzled.
“Oh, don't act so naive, darling, you know what I'm implying. That man wanted to bed you, everyone could see it from the way he treated you. And by the laughs you offered him, you seemed to enjoy his attention as well, did you not? What a flirt you are.”
His accusations left a taste of ash in his mouth. Moments before his anger seemed directed at the man’s advances, and now his bottled-up wrath was boiling onto you.
The bewildered look on your face turned into something else, something sad, your eyes losing their shine. He sensed that he must’ve hurt you, and it tugged at his heartstrings.
“So, you’re jealous of that man, is that what this is about?”
“Me? Being jealous of some filthy street vendor?” Astarion scoffed, immediately falling back to his dramatics, gesticulating defensively with his hands. “Don't insult me, darling. I find it amusing that he thinks he can have you, and I didn’t fail to miss your interest in him,” he bit, almost choking on the dry chuckle that spilled from his lips.
“There was no interest from my side, other than purchasing some of his wares,” you explained. Then you opened your mouth again, sharply sucking air between your teeth, before your gaze softened. Your voice was calm, without spite or anger. “He recognized me, Astarion. From the article in the gazette. Slayer of the evil Ketheric Thorm and all that fuss. Does that ring a bell?” 
Of course he remembered. It was him that had to sneak past those giant steel watchers back at the gazette’s building, convincing the magical press to print an article in your favour. An article that wouldn’t taint your reputation, unlike the one Gortash had commissioned to derogate you. 
Astarion couldn’t deny that after the praising piece was published, you were indeed met with an unusual kindness from the people of Baldur's Gate. 
“Well, how could I forget?” Astarion's face twisted. “But that doesn't mean he didn't have something else in mind with you. Some people certainly would love to bury their blade inside a true hero for once, I can imagine.”
You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Even if he did want to bed me, what does it matter?”
An icy grip twisted Astarion's chest. The image of you with someone else stung in his eyes, making him sick. 
Before he could growl another reply, you rested your hand on his arm, catching his fuming. “Hey – look at me, you silly goose.” 
Your tender touch was enough to quell the blazing flame in his belly. 
You spoke so warmly to him. So... loving.
Astarion rested his eyes on you and was met with an affectionate smile that disarmed him completely.
“Astarion, don’t you realise that I couldn't care less if thousands of people felt the sudden need to bed me?”
He bit his cheek, remaining silent.
“You’re the only one I want, you jealous fool. No one else – not now, not ever, and certainly not some random street vendor that throws a discount at me because he thinks of me as some kind of hero.”
Astarion’s features involuntarily softened as he took in your words. The fury that was about to overwhelm him dissolved into a flutter, engulfing his chest, washing away the seething that hooked at his ribcage.
“Really?” Only one word left his mouth, before he cleared his throat. “I mean – I'm not surprised of course, as you seem to literally cling to my side these days.” A poor attempt to cover his insecurity, but the best he could muster.
“Really,” you assured and gently tapped on his temple, “I vow on the tadpole flooding inside our brains.” You chuckled as you rested your hands on the back of his neck and shifted closer to him. 
“Well, but those might be gone someday,” Astarion mumbled.
“And even then, I will remain at your side. Only if you want me to, of course.”
Astarion didn’t have to think of his answer, the words spilling from his lips like a reflex.
“Yes, I would want that,” he whispered sincerely, his flamboyant mask crumbling. “Look, it's not that I don't trust you. It’s just… Well, I guess I'm used to losing what I hold dear. And the thought of losing you to someone else… I don’t know, apparently it woke something in me.” 
He felt almost ashamed over his sudden lack of eloquence, being so raw with you, but there was a sense of relief in opening up. To his surprise, it was even more soothing than losing himself in violence.
You looked at him with affection and cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. He closed his eyes and sunk against your palm. 
“It's alright, Astarion, you don't have to explain. I promise you, you won’t lose me to someone else. As you said, I tend to cling to your side these days, and truth be told, I have no intention to stop.”
“I hope you won’t,” Astarion replied and took your hand in his to press a kiss to your fingertips. “But honestly, I have to apologise for doubting your intentions with me. With us.”
“I forgive you, lover,” you replied tenderly. “I didn't take you for the overly jealous type, though,” you added with a smirk.
Astarion offered you a wry smile. “Let's not dwell on it, shall we?”
Then he reached for your face, softly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger and rested his lips on your forehead, followed by a kiss to the tip of your nose.
You wrapped your arms around his waist to pull him into a close embrace. He could sense your heartbeat against his cold body, your pulse drumming in a comforting rhythm.
For a moment you were just holding each other, your head against his chest, Astarion relishing your warmth and kissing your hair. Your touch was relieving. Assuring.
You were with him, and had promised not to leave. 
Your affirmations repeated in his mind: You wanted him. Only him alone.
This was all new territory and Astarion sensed it would take some time for him to fully adjust, yes, but right now… this was all he could wish for.
“Somehow I don't want to let go of you, little love,” he hummed to your ear.
“Then don't,” you breathed and kissed along his neck, brushing his bite marks with your lips, sending a shiver down his spine. A particularly sensible spot, but you were allowed to touch him there.
Gods, how deeply he had fallen for you.
Astarion drew you even closer and sighed, your hands grasping the fabric of his shirt. 
When he gently peeled away from your hug, you looked up to him and bit your lip.
“Can I be completely honest with you?” you asked sheepishly.
“What is it, my sweet?”
“Well... I think that merchant truly wanted to bed me.”
Astarion laughed – deep, coming from his belly – surprised by his own lightness. The idea of fuming over your obvious admirer seemed almost ridiculous all of a sudden. 
“I told you so. But now that you see it too, I guess you wouldn't mind if we turn back for a quick chat? I would love to take care of that dear fellow,” he replied mischievously. While his fury was gone, he still wouldn’t mind some misdemeanour.
“Astarion!” you scolded, but joined his laughter. “Please spare that innocent man.”
“Relax darling, I will. For now at least. And only because you asked so nicely.” His fangs poked from the grin that adorned his lips.
“Good boy,” you teased and brushed one of his white curls behind his ear, his grin widening from your touch.
As you walked back to camp, hands softly entwined, Astarion noticed that probably for the first time in his life someone truly belonged to him – willingly, out of love.
You belonged to him. 
The thought grew in his chest, wandered up to his eyes, spreading affection through his entire body, and for the remaining way back to camp he didn’t let go of your hand.
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amaranthineghost · 5 months
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hello!!!
can you do a one shot/ fanfic that Lando has been dating Y/N since they were 15/16, so for a long time, and she just found out she’s pregnant. you can come up with how they would react and how lando would react but i’d love if they were unsure of it in the beginning, but it grew on them as time went by.
thanks!!!!
| OUR WORLD IN YOUR HANDS ( lando norris. ) |
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ꕥ pairing: lando x reader
ꕥ summary: they hadn't planned for pregnancy, but it changed their life.
ꕥ authors note: enjoyed writing it more than I thought I would honestly. tried to make it so she was more unsure than he was and in the end, I liked it. working on incorporating more dialogue in the future because it is definitely not my strong suit. I'll also alternate between requests and my own ideas so if you requested something, keep it in mind <3
ꕥ warnings: mentions of alcohol, sex, barely mentions thoughts of abortion
TWO RED LINES. her heart had skipped a beat, more like several as she stared at the dark red line and a faded pink one next to it. she couldn't believe her eyes. it couldn't be possible, it repeated in her mind.
but it obviously was. they hadn't been very careful, they're young and dumb and in love. two people so deeply in love that they couldn't care less. at least she thought they did at the time.
staring at the test in front of her shook her whole world, an entirely different branch of her life she'd never expect to take this soon. it was right in front of her.
despite being together for a year or two shy of a decade, it felt too soon. they were still young, had plenty of parties lined up in the near future. plenty of drunken nights running through the streets of monaco barefooted, hands intertwined as the world was focused on them. how they'd escape to the farthest rooftop, drunken makeouts leading to more as they came together under the stars.
they still had time. time to be what they'd missed as teenagers, to make memories. they had time to spend countless nights, wrapped in each other's arms under cold skies on balconies across countries, discussing their future. when they'd get married, where they'd like to live, if they ever left monaco which seemed unlikely, the places they've yet to see, how many kids they'll have and their names.
time for reckless driving through the streets of monaco with the wind crashing against them, hands raised as they cheered. he always drove to the most beautiful sight in the city, but always claimed it would never come close to the beauty she possessed.
time for runs across the beach in tiny bikinis and swim trunks as they raced on the sand. his arms capturing her waist as he tossed her around, feeling the vibrations of her laughter and screams against his skin. a feeling he'd forever cherish.
it all disappeared with a single faded line. everything she knew about their future collapsed with the test barely bigger than the length of her hand. it would affect everything.
it was conflicting. becoming a mother was all she ever dreamed and talked about, when she became older. she'd mention to her curly-haired boyfriend countless times of her dreams of having the mini versions of him running around the house they shared. the longing to see his eyes and curly hair with features of her own on another warm body. their child.
but she wasn't ready. in her mid-twenties, with years of life left to live child-free. tens of grand prix's to attend in support of her mclaren lover, watching 10 feet away from his car. nights to catch up on hours of sleep she lacked from keeping up with lando's lifestyle.
having a kid swept it all off the table. no more late night dalliances, or getting so drunk to the point where lando would have to pull over the car to hold back her hair as she threw up in the bushes.
no more parties at ungodly hours of the night, watching drunk lando stumble his way to the dj booth, giggling over a glass of alcohol at his actions.
no more sleep. she knew she'd be woken up numerous times in the night from the cries of her child, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to give up sleep yet.
and she wasn't sure lando wanted to give up formula one either. obviously, a balance between the two worlds is possible, but she knew he would want to be there with her, and she didn't know if he could.
it scared her. the thought of this changing the dynamic of their relationship on levels she couldn't even begin to think of. she's seen countless videos of how having a child completely changed the way couples worked, good and bad, and she didn't want that fifty-fifty.
she'd sat staring at the test between the tips of her fingers for a solid twenty minutes before she heard a patterned knock she grew familiar with from her beloved boyfriend.
the door muffled his voice just slightly, "darling, you 'right in there?" his hand wrapped around the now cold door handle and twisted it, but it failed to turn as it pressed into his palm.
it was unusual for her to lock the door, she knew he would question it. and she knew she couldn't use the excuse of that she's changing or showering because lando simply didn't care whenever she was. he'd sit and keep her company till she was done with whatever she was doing because it was often what they did. sit in silence, enjoying the presence of one another.
"yeah, I'm fine!" she called out to him in a rushed tone, flinching enough that she nearly dropped the test. she watched as the door knob shook, shoving the stick into the bottom of the trash temporarily. she'd remember to remove it eventually.
she turned on the sink as she hid the box of tests in the depths of the cabinet under the sink. looking at herself in the mirror, she'd wipe away the tears that built in her eyes. she didn't want him to notice, but like always he would.
from the locked door to the second she opened it, he'd watch it. she'd see him leaning on the wall just outside the door, patiently waiting for her to come out to him. he wouldn't question it, he trusted that she would eventually come around to tell him. she always did.
with the frequent trips to the bathroom and the slimmed selection of foods in the fridge, he'd suspect something, but he wouldn't know for sure. not without her word.
because for the time being, it was a secret she kept to herself, as much as she despised secrets. she felt like she was guilty to be hiding something from the person she trusted most in the world.
times when she thought the room was empty, she'd be pacing long ways back and forth with her arms crossed and her face solid. he'd watched her from the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest, mirroring her position slightly.
times when she'd drop whatever she was doing to rush into the bathroom and spill her guts into the toilet as he held her hair and ran his fingers along the nape of her neck. she claimed it was a stomach bug, but he knew better. he also knew better than to question her words so he said nothing, but made a multitude of soups for her to sip on, taking notice of her now acute taste.
times when she'd cry over the tiniest of things, comforting her in his arms while she sobbed against the fabric of his very worn hoodie that happened to be her favorite.
it wasn't a great shock when she first told him. stuttering over her words as she fumbled with the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt that went well past her fingertips, he could see tears brimming her eyes with her heightened sensitivity.
so when she muttered the words, "i'm pregnant," his world stopped, restarted, reloaded and stopped again when he finally processed the words. though he knew he could've expected it, hearing the confirmation leave her lips left his world tipped sideways.
but he wanted to hear it again, needed to, words breathlessly escaping his lips, "what, love?" he heard her the first time, but he wanted to hear it again. and again and again.
she choked on her words, sobbing out again, "I'm pregnant, lan," he pulled her into his chest, his hand finding it's way to the side of her head as he cradled her, pressing his lips against her hair.
as they swayed, it finally dawned on him, muttering unsure and excitedly against her head, "I'm going to be a dad?" his breathing deepened, his tongue gliding across his lips, then biting at the sensitive flesh. he felt his heart hammer in his chest, nearly comparing to when he first asked the girl out all those years ago. he reminisced the time when the biggest deal he could think of was rejection. now the girl he had crushed on when he was just a teenager just told him she's pregnant. with his kid.
part of him couldn't be happier, they had spent countless nights in bed, lying on their sides facing one another with stupid grins on their faces as they pondered their future together. whatever they wanted, it always had the other in their thoughts and plans.
this was just their plans manifesting faster than they might've hoped, and sure, he wasn't totally certain that it was the right timing after all. but this was their dream, and maybe they just needed time.
time to accept how greatly their life would be affected. he thought about how he'd have to leave her for days, weeks for his career, the few outlying times when she'd travel with him. he knew that would change, leaving her home with a new life to take care of besides her own. he hated the thought of leaving her.
they needed time to think, whether it was together or just by themselves. they needed to figure out how they'd make it through, if they could. which was a question in itself.
they needed to talk because part of her didn't think he would be so accepting of the change life threw them, permanently altering their course of life and the years to follow.
deep inside, they're scared. they knew they would've been, planned or not. it didn't make it any easier. but when he asked such a simple question, it lifted a massive weight that had been carrying on her shoulders. part of her knew he'd always be so accepting. everything is an experience after all.
with every month passed, every growth of the life within her body, he'd mention. he was the nerdy type to compare the size of the baby with fruit. he'd goggle each week with every new development she'd create. it shook his mind to even comprehend. she could make bones, organs and the tiniest lashes of their soon-to-be kid all within the confines of her body. to him, it was sacred.
and of course, he'd tell just about everyone from every team. all the drivers, mechanics, pit crew, team principals, the list goes on and so does his rants about her.
countless photos of appreciation for her on his social media, after all she was carrying his child and he was ecstatic. he'd spent every waking moment he could with her, his hands always somewhere on her, prodominantly on her growing stomach.
when he felt the first kick, he pulled his hand away sharply, looking at her with a dropped jaw and wide eyes, "it kicked me!" he'd exclaim and she slapped his shoulder, scolding him.
"don't call the baby an 'it!'"
"what else am I supposed to call it?" again, earning another slap to his bicep, and he'd look at her with a growing confused look.
"stop slapping me!" he held up his arms in defense as she scowled at him, her arms crossed over her chest. she pursed her lips before sighing as he'd replace his hand on her stomach.
"babe, I don't think this baby likes me," he looked between his hand and her eyes, feeling the movement under his palm. it was a weird sensation, something he'd never expect to feel so soon, or at all.
all she could do was laugh at the stupid expression across his face as he looked back and forth in bewilderment. the warmth from his hand, and the small calluses sent goosebumps across her skin. it incited a smirk to take place on his face, but she slapped it off. he'd expect to feel more of those as the months went by, especially with all the sly comments she'd hear slip past his lips.
with every ultrasound appointment, he'd be there. he'd make sure of it, no matter where he was or what he was doing. she also scheduled them in accordance to his race and where in the world it took place.
every time, his eyes would be locked on the screen that projected his child, a part of him in another life form. a smile always creeping into his face as he held her cold hand. more often than not, he'd get curious and try to become the technician, stealing the equipment out of the professional's hand. his girlfriend would scold him like he was some sort of dog. in response he'd groan, rolling his eyes at her.
he'd still try though, and the technician laughed it off. he'd make comments to her in reassurance, "babe, i've got this," he'd tell him as his hand with the wand came closer to her stomach.
"where's your degree then?" she snapped back, giggling at his sudden pause before he shrugged, waving it off his other hand.
" 's at home."
when the time finally came to birth their new life into the world, god did lando panic. everything he had prepared himself with went out the window when she'd mutter the words he'd been waiting to hear.
"lando," she mumbled as she sat on their couch, turning to him with wide eyes, "I think it's time." her sleeve-covered hands were at her face as she bit nervously on her nails.
he'd stutter over his words, hands in his hair, "you're joking." he'd say repeatedly as he rushed around the apartment, grabbing things. he was the type to grab everything and forget her still on the couch.
she'd call him on her phone when she sees him in his car from the window, through the pain, she laughed at him, "forget something, norris?"
"no, darling, I've got everything-" she'd see his movement pause, his hand returning to his hair, "fuck!"
when he'd come back to help her, she was nearly collapsed with laughter despite the pain she felt through her body.
"stop laughing at me!" he whined but he was laughing with her. nonetheless, they'd get to the car.
she was in labor for hours, crunching on ice chips that he'd fed her carefully. he'd massage her shoulders, hold her hand when contractions got particularly unbearable. he knew not to mumble bullshit words of encouragement, a word of advice from his mum, advice he'd gladly listen to.
instead he'd show her he was there by doing everything she asked until it was time to actually deliver their child they've been waiting 9 months to finally meet.
with a pale face, lando would comment, "I think one kid is fine after all." she'd roll her eyes at his words as she held their daughter in her arms, already seeing themselves in her. she was exhausted and he knew. he put her hair up, cooing words of appreciation to her now that all was done. he took care of her.
he'd remember call his mum later to tell her thank you.
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ixmors · 1 year
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so desperate for my own oc content im a one man army feeding myself and anyone who wants a taste...
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astrxealis · 2 years
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tbh i kinda think ffxiv is worth playing even for drk quests alone. but no bcs the whole game is amazing ofc yes and i love shb/enw/everything so damn much but also bcs drk quests are really good esp bcs of all that the story of ffxiv is
^^ or rather, the ffxiv free trial! ffxiv really is so huge after all >___< (and i love all of it. most of it. but a lot of it yes)
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#⋯ ꒰ა ffxiv ໒꒱ *·˚#the way drk quests connect to the main story is literally the best. it is so good#i've talked about this before but the way it builds the character of someone who is essentially played by all players#bcs. you don't have defined backstories. outside of your starter city state which barely has an impact on anything other than the first#few hours or so tbh! and ofc if you give your character/s backstories that's a whole other thing but. basically. yeah#the main story is pretty much That by which i mean it'll go a certain way. without a doubt#and you can have your own headcanons but often in cutscenes your dislike/like of a character is made obvious#and in early game you don't have that much dialogue choices. or any choice at all. drk expands on that#who do you fight for? what would you do if (insert)? it really is just so. ehgbah. i think philosophical is a right word#it gives so much character to someone who is essentially supposed to be like. say. link. or byleth. but unique to each player#bcs it is an mmo! and idk but FR. drk quests are just so good i love them so much even if tanking is my least fav role#i especially love the ones for stormblood bcs everything with myste is just. so good. so deep. but it makes so much sense#idk man i ehbshjbgbdhbghs drk quests my beloved ....................#it's all about love and forgiveness! self-love. guilt. morality. those kinda stuff.#i joked around a bit and sang that line from the song yeah? 'and that's the power of love' or. smth really like that#but fr it is just. so beautiful. so full of love. and the way drk's don't use shields... the lore behind it#i think hw quests were great bcs it was so drk fitting but in the context of heavensward? yeah? also LOVE the moogles <3#i think sid's character development is really lovely and also reminds me of thancred if he and ryne were more uh. aggressive?#i forgot what is the max tags but this is now 20 and i took 15 minutes writing all this. GOOD NIGHT (maybe. idk anymore)
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euaphoric · 6 days
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HIGHWAY TO HELL ♱ 𓏲ּ [J.J.K.] preview
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♱ starring… jeon jungkook x f!reader | rockstar!jk x tattoo artist!reader | 1980’s au | established relationship | ft. all other bts members as bandmates and yoongi is the manager !
♱ genre/warnings... pwp, a mixture of angst and fluff, smut, takes place in the grungy, rugged underground music scene of NYC in the 80’s, o/c used to be a groupie but is now jk’s gf, this fic is going to be very chaotic… there’s a lot of warnings for this including: dark humor (nothing offensive), toxic relationship, the ‘i literally need you to survive or else i’ll die’ trope, o/c is jk’s muse, he fr worships his girl as if she’s some otherworldly deity, attempting to delve into the complexities of mental instability ?? (they’re both mentally fucked in the head tbh), autophobia/monatophobia, DARK/HEAVY THEMES!, small mentions of stalking, mentions of mental health struggles, self injury, heavy alcohol & substance abuse, jk has a belly piercing (yes, that is a warning in itself), jk plays bass and is main vocals of the band, he argues w/ his bandmates a lot, switch!jk but he leans more towards dom, sex while under the influence, size kink, y’all are both super nasty and kinky like omg this is gonna be insaneeesfds, also heavy exhibitionism: they literally have sex in front of ppl multiple times (oops). i will be sure to include the rest once it’s fully finished !
♱ synopsis... when moving to the big city, you had only three things in mind: start life anew— a fresh, clean slate that allows you to bloom into whomever you wish to be, open your own tattoo parlor, and to meet and fuck as many rockstars as you possibly can. in fact, all was going according to plan thus far, however, the minute you crossed paths with him is when life takes a pivotal shift for the better and possibly, worse. you’ve become inseparable since day one, building an intense co-dependency that not even the devil himself can seem to unravel. a story of the submerging tension between two lonely, lost souls navigating youth through glitz, glamour, sleepless nights, and reckless hotel parties every weekend. it’s as if everyone else exists to come and go; besides the unconventional love that you cultivate together. OR,, just lots of sex, drugs, & punk rock.
♱ run time... will be over 10k+ words
♱ soundtrack... seek & destroy metallica, you shook me all night long ac/dc, purgatory iron maiden, she the misfits
i had this idea for sooo long omg, it’s slightly different than how i originally imagined it here, but i’m finally doing it so yay for meee !! i’ve never tried a concept like this before saur i’m def going to research a lot for this since i wasn’t born in the 80’s lol. i honestly have no idea how long this will be but me thinks it’ll be around 10-12k words ??? ( it’s going to be the longest thing i ever made .. T^T ) but my goal this year has been to start writing longer fics so i’m excited ! if anyone wants to be tagged once it’s uploaded just lmk <3
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kimsmuse · 9 months
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yandere dilf !!
this was written in gaps, so im not that confident about it?? but here goes nothing. also i fucking love dilfs god. get me a dilf please.
also this was inspired by this one man i saw on my way to my uni admissions and he was there for his daughter 💀 put me in jail fr
the dilf here is in 40s something and the reader in early 20s n i think she switched universities to do her master’s (if you do not like this type of thing please look away <3)
gender neutral!reader (it might be implied femal but the pronouns are they/them) 1.7k words. warnings for age gap yandere behavior, kidnapping, manipulation, obsessive behaviour? dilf is a delusional yandere fr.
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yandere!dilf who is (clichè i know, please look away but this is the best thing i can think of) your father’s friend, but not best friend or anything because he lives in another city, but oh you’re moving there for uni and your parents can’t think of anybody else to contact so they call him up !!
but he’s busy when you’re moving so he can’t help :(( oh but did i tell you he was the one who chose that apartment for you to move into?? it was so close to him and his friend said to keep an eye on you so he chose the one which wasn’t even like 5 minutes away. and he wants to be of help to his friend so bad but these board meetings and stuff ://
best believe that when he’s free he’s at your apartment with a bunch of new home essentials, a few groceries that you might need, and this man is ringing up your door. now neither of you had seen each other, heard about the other from the common point that was your father, yes. but to open the door and be in the presence of a man that is that gorgeous?? and he’s just wearing sweatpants and a tshirt?? god.
not to mention a thin chain around his neck that leads to inside his shirt…. kill me really.
anyway, but he’s equally taken back because um, this was his friend’s kid. literal kid. he shouldn’t be thinking about how alluring your appearance was, get your head straight, he tells himself, as you invite him. aren’t the shorts too short….
if sexual tension could have been visible, man would your apartment be full of it.
but he’s nothing but resisting, it’s how he has been single for so long, it’s not that he doesn’t like commitment, but… he likes to tell everyone that he just hasn’t found his The One yet.
“the apartment has come together nicely,” he says as he looks around and it is, you’ve done a great job at it and it reflects the type of person that he assumes you are.
you ask him if he wants something to drink? and he politely rejects your offer, he does not want this thing to escalate because knowing his track record, he can’t stand a minute more near the kitchen island and not think about bending you over, and that was normal for him but god, snap out of it, this is half your own age, he thinks to himself.
and you want him to stay, but again, it is quite fucked up to think about being fucked by your father’s friend and someone your father’s age.
“here,” he gives you all the stuff he brought with and kept it. “that’s all, i have some work i need to do so i’ll take your leave now,” he starts to leave when he looks back again “and, um, my number,”
to which you blush, but remind yourself, it’s only like an authority figure, nothing else. and he tells you his own address, in case there’s ever an emergency.
that is how it begins, and your father leaves a message for him, “please take care of them,” and he acts like it’s a burden but he’s overjoyed inside, he has an excuse…
anyway, fast forward to you starting university, getting a social circle, and he visits you weekly, awkward and short visits but you’re just glad he can grace your apartment like that, you even light up your special candles around for him to notice, and he does, but you don’t know how hard he’s just trying so hard to not snap.
when it’s been almost an year or something, he finally thinks he should sit down or you’ll catch on to him or something (little does he know that all you though of it was the fact that men like him are always busy.)
“so you’ve settled in okay?” he asks, as if the cctv installed outside your door doesn’t already tell him that you bring a steady flow of people home, friends.. un-friends and people he was genuinely jealous of. he was jealous of your friends too, because he desperately wanted to stay platonic with you and he didn’t know how they did that.
the conversation flows from one point to other and suddenly you ask him, “are you married?” and he looks startled at the question so quickly begin to apologise, you did not mean to overstep any boundaries.
“uh, i don’t know, i just haven’t found someone who i would like that much, i guess,” if the tension before was a lot, this was the worst it could get.
he leaves abruptly again, and you watch from your balcony as he pulls his car out of the parking and out, wishing he stayed sometime.
what you did not know though was the fact that the yandere was fully invested in your life, your friends, your daily errands. but this was what taking care of you meant, right?
the last straw came to him when you were at a party, frustrated by the lack of response that older man was giving you, you were desperate to get laid today even if you would end up being upset over the fact that it wasn’t him. but unknown to the fact that the yandere just had this.. odd feeling today? that he has to follow you and when he got to know it was a party? parties are never good news.
and he’s almost dozing off 2 hours later in his car, parked safely at a distance when he think he hears your voice. and sure enough when he takes a peek out, across the street is you, and wait, is that a guy following you.
“i was just kidding i really don’t want to go home with anybody tonight.”
he gets out of the car silently, and the guy who is insistent on getting his dick wet by specifically you, a statement which makes his blood boil, is too busy persuading you to notice the punch that the dilf throws at him from behind. the yandere doesn’t think about what you’ll ask about how he got there and stuff, this was serious and it only reaffirms his ideals that yes, he had to make sure you were safe and he had to follow you, god knows what would have happened if he wasn’t there.
as soon as the guy is knocked out, he looks at you and you look up at him surprised, your mouth forming an ‘o’ but noticing the haze in your eyes, he can feel relief inside.
“you’re here!” you exclaim and you are drunk, he concludes as you hug him. he might actually burst but he feels euphoric right now, as if he could cry, it was like he had this actual fear, what would he do if something happened to you? it was no longer the responsibility or the feeling of being answerable to your dad.
don’t worry after that, he drives you home, but his home. he has to make sure you’re safe at all times, right? what if someone decided to rob your place? or… the guy from earlier? what if he got your address from one of your friends? he couldn’t imagine it.
so there might be a change in plans, you don’t need to tell your dad yet though, or anybody. in fact, you might not need to go out at all. he made more than enough to sustain, and keep you safe, take care of you, like your dad asked, and he is nothing but a loyal friend, isn’t he?
now let's dive into little specifics, shall we?
yandere dilf is completely smitten, he was the first moment he saw you but right now you're at his mercy, and it gave me a hysterical kind of high. 
and he is so so convinced that he's doing what he can to protect you and this is allthat can be done, there's no other way!
he brings you bits and pieces of news that are the most terrible of them all - murders, rapes, all of the worst stuff, so you realize how much of a favour the yandere is doing you by protecting you.
and your dad? as far as he's concerned, you're still going about your daily routine, there’s nothing wrong with it. he makes you call him because he doesn't want to deal with his friend, not yet.
yandere dilf is caring but he's also really short tempered, if he brings you food and you eat it silently without saying anything, he'll snap :(( because you should have said the food was good or you were happy that he brough you that, right?
but he realizes his fault quite soon, he was mature, he shouldn’t act this way with you. and he apologises, someone tell this man an apology means you would try not to do it again. because he does, he keeps on repeating the cycle.
at first you were completely opposed to whatever this weird idea was, but slowly you gave in, when you realized the heights he had thought all of this through to, all you could hope was someone to notice that this wasn't normal and help you. well, someone to notice and try to help you and not be bought off by the money that the yandere dilf gave them.
yandere dilf coddles you; at first this is how he got to break your shell, he patted your head when you did something good, something like eating, drinking water. and you loved it, as much as you hated to admit it, sometimes it felt like you put in so much efforts in your daily life to get people to love you, that it felt like a relief that here he was praising you for doing the smallest of tasks.
yandere dilf does not fuck you. he keeps himself in control, he does not even touch you if you're angry or upset at him, but he knows a few ways and he's bringing you around slowly to the idea of a you and him together creating an us.. he's getting there slowly and surely.
just… please.. don't try to escape or anything, that would really set the process back… or would it accelerate it…?
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messylustt · 10 months
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a fic wherein miguel is webbin his way across the city when he stumbles across the reader flickin the bean????? and is paralyzed by the sight and smell??? and self-indulges???? if you’re picking up what im putting down??
anyways I love your fics, they literally bring me to tears every time, no exaggeration. <3
sweet self indulgence — miguel o’hara. mhmmmm. butterflies fr.
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at first he thought the city noise and smell was betraying him. but no. he picked up the faintest whimpers and mutters, along with a scent he seemed to be able to taste. sweet. so sweet. he can’t help but veer closer to the high window, the dark sky concealing his large frame. maybe he should have noticed the small hitches of your breath, and realise how the tempo was just like how you always sounded when you were injured, or tired.
his low gaze caught your figure, laid out on your bed, the sheets ruffled, and your hand low, low down your body. now miguel knew he should leave, forget that he was ever here in the first place, but then he easily catches another moan fall from your pretty lips, your back slightly arching off the bed. his red eyes were glued to the way your thighs clenched around your hand, he couldn’t see you entirely, and it was terrible how bad he wanted to.
you were in a lose shirt, edged up to just under your breasts. and that’s when your legs began to widen, your eyes screwed shut as your breathing chose it’s own mismatched beat. miguel’s eyelids flutter as his gaze darkens at the view you’re now unintentionally showing him. he can see your hand, your fingers that are rubbing your swollen clit in circles. he gulps down saliva at the state your poor abused pussy is in. a mess.
an utter mess of your arousal and clearly some of your spit. you’re desperately trying to reach a high you’ve been chasing, as more mumbles of soft words leave your lips. miguel listens harder catching the words “please…oh god…please, i need….mm.” miguel’s breathing is now matching yours at your cute pleas. he’s now aching in his suit, imagining how sweet you’d actually taste. you smelt good, sounded good. what were you thinking about? miguel can’t help but lean closer to the cracked open window, mesmerised by your hands movements as he tilts his head. he just wanted to…
your legs are slightly shaking as you keep them bent. he could help with that, let them rest them over his shoulders. and the way your free fist was clenching around your sheets…his hair could substitute. you looked almost in pain with how your brows knitted together. you so badly wanted to cum and miguel knew that your fingers wouldn’t be enough. because as you slipped two in, he knew you weren’t reaching the spot you wanted to.
the sound of your clenching hole was making him almost dizzy, his tongue running along his fang, to cut—to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “mm…” you sounded do pitiful, as you tried to finger yourself quicker. you just weren’t quick enough. miguel’s claws flexed in an itch to help. just help you out. you couldn’t be mad at that, could you? i mean look at you. such a desperate little thing that only wanted to feel good. “such a pretty little thing…” he mutters only for his own ears, as his claw drags across the windowsill.
“no…god…i just — ” you plead, wanting to reach that pleasure that your fingers were just barely providing. your legs are moving along the sheets as you turn your head to the side. your body was racked with heightening pleasure. you wanted to reach that peak. and with your eyes shut tight, and your turned away head, you don’t notice the helping hand hovering up your thigh, until you feel the slightest touch of a claw.
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months
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HCs: Ken meeting a Human!Fem!Reader who owns a ranch
Wanted to write something for this movie bc it’s all I’ve been thinking about for the past two days. So enjoy, lovelies! 
I’m taking requests for this movie so don’t be shy <3 
[SPOILERS AHEAD]
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...........
After going back to the Real World to find a purpose for himself, Ken runs into you, a country girl who left the Mattel company to take care of your ranch.
You just stopped in the city to find new outfits..and instead found him rollerblading through the park, immediately recognizing him as a Ken.
You may not be in the company anymore but you just knew (especially with his vibrant outfit giving it away).
You two hit it off right away and eventually you go shopping together.
He gets a new cowboy outfit and is bashful when you pay for it (to which you reply that you..really didn’t have a choice in the matter, as he had no money).
He’s like “ohh that happened before when I was with Barbie..we got arrested for the second time that day :D”
You’re very concerned and decide that he should stick with you from now on (not that anyone at Mattel would ever care about a Ken running around to begin with...you just didn’t wanna have to bail him out of jail).
On the truck ride back to your home, you mentioned owning a ranch and Ken’s in a w e
You tell him more about it, and he’s so intrigued and can’t stop staring at you the entire time, especially as you go on about how a lot of women in your world are cowgirls and how they aren’t represented enough.
He bluntly states that he once believed “patriarchy” was all about the horses and you nearly laughed, but he seemed sad about it, so you assure him if he wanted to see horses, he made the right decision coming with you.
You introduce him to one of your favorite steeds and he’s SO overjoyed to actually see one in person. Like petting its mane and asking dozens of questions like an excited kid.
“Are you sure Barbieland didn’t have any horses of their own?”
“No, we just have the ones on sticks and our imaginations.” He pouts, mimicking the way he rode invisible horses with his hands. “But this? This is WAY cooler!!”
He tries mounting your horse, envisioning himself riding off into the sunset, free as a bird while shouting “yeehaw” at the top of his lungs-
Only for it to rear its head up and nearly stomp on his foot, with you having to calm it down as he snaps back to reality, looking utterly distraught and stressed over upsetting it.
“Alrighty. Ken. If you wanna ride a horse..the first step is earning its respect. Thought you would’ve learned about that in those books....but if you’ll let me, I’ll show you how to properly mount one. Luckily this one here’s accustomed to double riders.”
His face lights up and he listens to every instruction you give him, from placing the saddle on its back to climbing on, and finally how to control the direction he wants it to go.
For this one time, however, you take the reins and let him sit behind you, hugging you a bit too tightly for your liking, but you allow it as you show him around the rest of your ranch.
He just likes the closeness fr and you.
By the time the day’s over, your horse got better acquainted with Ken and let him ride around for a little while before you gotta put it in the stable for the night.
Before he could worry about where he was gonna go, you tell him he can stay with you as long as he wants.
He’s so happy he just,,,,breaks down ugly crying into your arms.
Though he quickly apologizes, admitting he’s still getting used to crying freely and being more emotional and-
“It’s okay, Ken.” You reassure him. “We need more guys like that around here who ain’t afraid to shed a tear or two.”
“Th-Thanks...Barbie told me it’s an amazing feeling. And honestly..it kinda is.”
After that small heart-to-heart talk, he gifts you his horseshoe necklace as a sign of his appreciation, that dopey grin returning to his face when you take it and wear it right away.
Yeah, you’ve only met each other for a day and he’s smitten the moment you started treated him as an equal. You let him have his own room, bed, wardrobe, etc. (and in time he'll have his own horse too).
All you ask is that he helps you manage the ranch, but at this point he’s willing to do anything for you now.
Finally, he realizes this was his dream all along.
One that Barbieland couldn't provide, but that was alright.
Patriarchy is overrated, anyways. This was all he wanted.
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prettyboykatsuki · 5 months
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✮ tags ; gn!reader, implied bottom reader, semi-erotic and bloody fingersucking, romance, struggling with intimacy on astarions part, not an established relationship fr, 18+
✮ wc ; 1.6k (literally what in the fucking world)
✮ a/n ; *smacks astarions back* you can fit so much projection onto this thing.
canon divergent i.e. this takes place during act two but reader doesn't sleep w astarion in act one. it's explained in da fic.
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The taste of intimacy is acrid.
It's bitter and sharp to the senses. In many ways, he finds it unpleasant. Intolerable. He's lost in thought, primarily caught up in the sensation of your skin pressed against his.
Too much, he decides, this entire affair is proving to be too much.
"You know, there's no need for theatrics," He can almost hear the recoil in his own voice, like hiding away into the shadows when dawn approaches. It's instinctive. "All this...poetry is quite thoughtful but very unnecessary."
Yes. Unnecessary. Somehow it feels violent, though it's anything but. You pull away from him and he winces at your expression - genuine confusion draped across your face. Your skin is hotter than the sun, much warmer than his. You're attractive.
Astarion wonders if he can assess you as beautiful. If he's allowed to use something so flowery.
He can't stop thinking about it. He's played the part of a lover before, so kissing and touching in quiet whispers is not unfamiliar. If that's the sort of affair you wish to have, than Astarion can be apart of it no problem. Whatever makes your desire towards him tangible, whatever you want. The last part he doesn't say out loud, or to himself.
But it was real, just a moment ago, wasn't it? The feeling of your lips on his forehead and the crook of his shoulder was real. The words of affection were real. He was looking for fun, debauchery, pleasure.
This is not that, he decides. He decides, too, that he does not like it.
"I'm sorry?"
"Oh don't play dumb, darling," He says, his throat tightening. It's natural to him, in a way. "Though your heroic romantic gestures are quite something, they're very unnecessary. We both know what we're here for, do we not? A little roughing up is fine."
You pause, and you stare. Your eyes are clear, like the water of the open ocean surrounding the lower city. Even in the darkness, he can see you perfectly. You can see him too, but he can't see himself even in the reflection of your gaze. He wonders if that is some kind of mercy, but remembers quickly that no god has ever shown him such kindness.
And you wouldn't either, or you shouldn't. He convinces himself that its a courtesy, and that this conversation is an attempt at honest between you. He's expecting something different. Maybe a snarky laugh of approval, or a widening set of eyes. Lurid with excitement in all the ways you're okay to defile him.
Most people he's laid with have given him the same. They're pleased with his fluidity. He shows it off like he's water in a beautiful chalice, look at all the forms I can take and adore me.
And yet, you're all but silent. What a terrible conversation to have when he's almost inside of you, he thinks.
"If that is what you desire," You says, your words slow. You then, so softly, draw your thumb over his cheek bone. It takes strength not to recoil. He almost wants to mock you. Wants to bite at the gentle caress of your hand, wants to make you bleed. "But I would've hoped my gestures conveyed my feelings a little better than this."
Shit. Shit.
"Feelings? Have you really taken a page out of the wizards book and written me a poem?"
"It would be easy enough to do," You say, so easily and so naturally - he can't help but show that he is startled. Shaken by the sincerity of every word. Bitter. "If you desire such gestures."
A feeling coils in his chest. He cannot distinguish his urges from each other. Whether it is hunger or desire. Whether to push you away or cling to you closer. He cannot make sense of any of it, despite his efforts. He doesn't need any blood, he's sure - but his mind lacks clarity.
Is he afraid or angry? He does not remember how to tell the difference between those two emotions, either.
"We're here for sex, you know?" He says, proactively pushing into old habits. His eyes feel heavy in their sockets, like their weighed by his own need to be desired perfectly. He seduces you easily. Lowers his lids and parts his lips, snakes a hand against your waist and lets you fall forward until you collapse against his chest. "Hot, lecherous, burning pleasure. Such romantics are best saved for..."
You look at him, and you want him. But it is not the same. Even he is not so foolish as to deny something you make so obvious.
"For?"
The words someone you love do not leave his lips, though they threaten to. "Someone more suitable."
"There's no one so suitable as you," You say, and the words do not sound damning. They do not intend to please him. They're not coated in myth or covered in lies. They're like you, honest and rich. "And that pleasure can be found all the same with regards to what I do."
Astarion understands little of you. Never has, in full. He finds your character damning, finds your kindness often irritable. His plan to seduce you had worked, he thought. You had taken some kind of liking to him. Enough that you act against yourself, just to appease him at times. To clumsily win him over by being a little bad, or being silver-tongued.
But you hadn't laid a hand on him despite his efforts. Without taking anything, you shield him from harm. You kill the people who wish to kill him. He'd never stopped trying to seduce you, because it benefits him to play the part of prized possession to the strong.
He thought your acceptance of his request meant you had finally broken. That he could go through with it.
Yet, you touch him like this - as you have been all evening. You brought a bedroll to fuck him in the woods of all places. Your hands are soft, and warm. You're reverent. He's kissed plenty of people, and played lovers even more than that. It was his lifes work, after all.
But it is impossible to deny that you're different, despite his best efforts to believe you are not.
Astarion isn't familiar with your gestures. He cannot hold his ground against honesty when his existence is passing and pleasant - ephemeral as a white lie.
"Astarion," You say, clear. You enunciate his name. It is not intended to have any weight, yet it crushes him. His chest tightens. Aches. It is all so strangely miserable. He wants to interrupt you, but cannot fix his lips to do such a thing "I wish to make love to you. You're welcome to find it unnecessary."
A kiss. Your mouth is warm, and tastes faintly like the sweet wine you had before bed. Your hands cup around his nape, and your other hand keeps you upright. He won't fall for it but his body does not listen, makes him melt comfortably into the bedroll. You kiss and kiss and kiss, and it is well-practiced like you have loved many times before him.
You must know something better than him.
Still. There is not enough strength in his limbs to fight you. His eyes blink open when you've stopped. A scream almost rips from him, but he's frozen in place instead. He can fight now. He could fight this.
The nails he tries to scratch you with, dig deep onto your waist. He closes his eyes. A begging for you to stay.
"Darling, really," His voice cracks. A touch so gentle and unfamiliar may be the thing to flay him open - cut him into pieces and open him up the blackened night sky. His lips feel cracked, hands shaking. "Wholly unnecessary."
There is no way out from this. From his feelings for you. How terrible.
You examine him quietly, then smile like you know everything. He is so much older than you, yet you smile like you've lived one thousand more lives. Maybe you have.
"Astarion," You mumble, your hands finding his hands. You lock your fingers together, your touch making his nerves fire whenever you brush along them. Your free hand ghosts his lips. "Look at me,"
Then, very suddenly, you push your thumb against the point of his fang. It punctures you in no small wound, and you push until the blood spills. You wince, but it's barely there. You let the blood spill into his parted mouth, let the taste of it fetter onto his lips and tongue. It's almost saccharine. He leans up on instinct, latching himself to it. He drinks from your self-inflicted wound with his eyes lidded, with desperation so unsightly.
You don't slink back. You watch onto him fondly. Watch him eat recklessly. Watch him swallow around you.
You already know what he is, he realizes, too late. The weight of your deliberateness nearly buries him. Unpleasant eyes, that know everything about him without any modicum of effort.
The feeling of anxiety, of restlessness well up even deeper inside him. The bitter unforgiving irony of finding intimacy with you lingers still. There is no escaping the thought that it will be you who betrays him first, and not someone else.
But the taste of blood, your blood, washes it all out. The gentle touch of your skin unsettles him as much as it makes him needy. He wants to be adored, and be adored by you.
He wants you in a way that does not incite any instinct. He works against each one trying to look you in the eyes.
When he manages, you are there and you are kind. You want to make love to him. He wants, very desperately, to believe it is possible. That such a ridiculous thing exists outside of a performance.
His voice is soft as a whisper. "I guess it's not impossible to appease you,"
You kiss the corner of his mouth and grin. He doesn't flinch this time.
"I'm quite relieved."
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