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zorosleftshoe · 5 months

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Cherry Pie - (c.b)

Warnings: swearing (as usual 🙄), angst (slight enemies to lovers), SMUT, p in v, unprotected

Pairing: Colby Brock x Reader

“Did you really have to bring her?” Colby’s voice filled the room as his tone reeked with venom. It had only been thirty seconds and I already wanted to deck him. Once for the way he spoke of me like I wasn’t in the room and two, for the way his tongue poking out to wet his lips made my knees buckle.

“Just be civil, yeah?” Sam sighed in defeat as he plopped down on the couch next to Nate who was tuning his guitar.

“I have no issue being civil. It’s cavemen like him that have an issue.” Colby scoffed at my words before turning his gaze to the cryptic show that played on the all too big television. “Anyways, I thought you said we were going to the boardwalk.” Sam’s eyes met mine momentarily before shifting towards the floor guiltily.

“We were but Colby said he needed help editing our video.” His voiced trailed off as the realization set in that I had been bested. “Before you go thinking I tricked you, I didn’t. I still fully intend to keep my word. I just need to finish up our video before we head there. Is that okay?” Sam’s eyes are pleading and I can’t help but sigh in acceptance.

“Sure. But if I have to stay in this room with him any longer I may puke on your pretty carpet.” Colby scoffed once more before rising to his feet and closing the distance between us.

“You think you’re hot shit?” His baby blues stare me down as he towers over me. “I have yet to figure out why Sam keeps you around. My only theory is that you’re just a body for him but even he wouldn’t stoop that low.” Colby’s words are harsh as he spews them at me. “You come into my house trying to berate me when you’re the problem.” Nate pushes his guitar to the side, preparing himself to jump in if things get out of hand as Sam has already risen to his feet. “You think I don’t know why you’re friends with him? You want a piece of the fame. You want all the perks that come with knowing Sam and Colby. Well I’ve got news for ya, sweetheart. We’re not your bank. You don’t get to throw our names out there to gain a few extra dollars.” Sam places a shaky hand on Colby’s chest and presses him further away from me. He staggers a bit but his eyes never leave my own. His canines practically on display as he audibly growls at me.

“I don’t need you to boost my ratings. I’m doing just fine on my own and if Sam chooses to be in my videos because I ask him to,” I pause looking at Sam who is masked with a pained expression. “Who can say no any time he chooses, mind you. That’s up to him. I would never use someone like that.” Colby rolls his eyes before pushing Sam’s hand away from him.

“Whatever. Do what you want. Just don’t make a mess.” Colby stalks out of the room taking his laptop with him and leaving the three of us to stare at one another as the silence becomes deafening.

“Well that was-“ Sam cuts Nate off with a swift kick to the shin and he groans.

“I told you to be civil.” Sam’s eyes are anything but accusing as the words fall from his lips. He knows I had only retaliated in self defense as Colby had backed me into a corner. “I don’t know why you two can’t just get along.” I take a seat next to Sam and pat his back in a friendly manner.

“Would you like for me to go apologize?” He shakes his head and my shoulders relax at the thought of not having another interaction with Colby.

“That would just start another world war three and I can’t deal with the headache. I still have to finish the editing.” Sam groans before collapsing against the back of the couch and covering his eyes with his forearm. “Colby has my laptop charger.” With a heavy sigh, I rise to my feet and dust off my all too tight black shorts.

“I will ask him for it, okay? I’ll apologize for the whole fiasco and have a talk with him.” Sam’s face shifts as worry glosses over his delicate features. “It’ll be fine.” At this point I’m not sure if I’m trying to reassure Sam or myself. “It’s just Colby.” The stairs seemed to grow longer with each step I took towards what I could only consider impending doom.

It wasn’t that I hated Colby. If anything, I felt complete indifference towards him, given he had quickly shut me down and left me wondering what I had done wrong after our first meeting.

Colby’s door was shut and I couldn’t help but feel myself inch backwards towards the stairs. This was a stupid idea. With a heavy sigh I find myself rapping my knuckles against the wood of his door. In the distance there’s a soft groan before footsteps. The door opens and Colby’s head peaks through the small opening he has allowed. His eyes widen as he drinks in my figure standing before him.

“What the hell do you want?” I can feel my blood already beginning to boil at his words but I suppress what I’m feeling for Sam’s sake.

“Sam needs his charger.” He grunts before going to move away but I’m quick to reach out and lightly touch his hand that is still rested against the door. “I also wanted to apologize.” Colby’s eyebrows raise in what I can only assume is confusion.

“Why the hell would you do that?” I cock my head slightly and he shakes his head before opening the door enough for me to squeeze through. “I thought this was our thing?”

“Huh?”

“Hating each other? I thought that was our thing?” He asks scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I never said I hated you. In fact, I never said anything about how I felt about you.” I pause fiddling with a loose hem on the bottom of my shirt. “You would say all these harsh things and I felt like I had no choice but to retaliate. Eye for an eye type of thing.” Colby scoffs before settling beside me on his bed.

“If it means anything now, I never hated you either.” His words are much softer now. Any anger that had lingered before has vanished and was replaced with a new feeling. “I only said that shit because,” he pauses then. His hands are clasped firmly in his lap and I notice how he picks at the skin of his thumb.

“Because?” He groans in frustration before covering his eyes with his hands.

“If you’d give me a damn minute I’d tell you.” His cheeks, now tinted pink, puff up before he looks at me. “Because I was protecting myself.” My eyebrows twitch up in confusion at his words. Protecting himself? “You came hurdling into my life like a fucking meteor and I didn’t know what to do. All of a sudden this beautiful girl is here and she’s so fucking hilarious. She has the same interest as me, she’s best friends with my best friend, and she’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” He pauses, glancing away from me, clearly embarrassed. “I hate the way you make me feel.” These words are whispered as if they are a secret he isn’t quite sure he’s ready to tell.

“And how do I make you feel?” By now, our bodies have subconsciously moved closer to the point our pinkies are dancing dangerously close to one another. Colby glances down at them but makes no attempt to move away from the subtle touch.

“Like a firework that’s about to explode.” His explanation is curt but his eyes are saying everything he’s unable to. “I’m not,” he pauses shifting his gaze. “I’m not good with words.” His timid eyes allow my own to soften. His hard exterior cracking, crumbling before me and letting vulnerability shine through.

“I think I know what you mean.” His cerulean eyes glazing over with a hint of something. Something quite unfamiliar. Something I had never seen in Colby before. “Every time I’m near you I feel this electricity.” I take a chance and glance down at our hands, gently nudging his pinky with my own. He gets the hint and allows me to interlock our fingers together. “I always thought it was anxiety.” I say softly using my free hand to fiddle with a loose string on my shorts.

Colby’s mouth opens and shuts with words that he wants to say but is holding back. His tongue pokes through his cherry red lips to wet them in a nervous tick I’d seen him do many times prior. The atmosphere changes as our eyes meet for the umpteenth time since I stepped into his cozy room and I find myself leaning closer into his space.

“What are you doing?” His words are rushed and I can tell from his demeanor he’s somewhat unsure of how to react to what’s happening. With a hint of a smirk resting on my face, I look up at him through thick eyelashes and watch as he visibly gulps at the sight.

“Something I should have done awhile ago.” He gasps as I lean forward and press my lips against his. His hands instinctively move from the bedsheets to rest against my hip and the side of my face, his thumb combing over my cheek in a loving way. My tongue traces his bottom lip to which he happily allows access.

His hand grips onto my right thigh before slinging it across his sitting form, forcing me to straddle him. He groans when I roll my hips against his growing erection.

“Colby?” He hums, his eyes meet mine and I notice how his pupils are blown wide and lust clouds over what was once a look of hatred. “Are you sure you want to do this? There’s no going back.” My hips are still rolling to meet his at a steady pace and it takes him a moment to collect himself enough to answer.

“You,” I huff as the clothing separating us grazes my clit in the most delicious way. “You are all I have wanted. I don’t want to go back.” Colby takes this as the only confirmation he needs and he viciously attacks my neck in open mouthed kisses. Biting, sucking, then smoothing his tongue over the overworked sensitive skin. Part of me wants to ask how he got so good at this, but his hands on my hips rocking me faster has my brain hazy.

“You know I would think about you?” His words are raspy and spread out as his lips trail over my exposed collarbone. “At night when I was alone.” His teeth nick at the base of my neck and I whimper in compliance. “Can’t imagine how good you’ll feel instead of my hand.” He moves the hand that had been resting tightly in my hair, holding me steady, between our bodies and pops open the button of my shorts. “Although you look so fucking hot in these, I’d rather see you without them.” He helps me shimmy the unwanted fabric from my body and I watch in awe as he eyes the red lace that rests against my skin. A hint of a smirk on his face. “Oh, baby.” He coos. “Don’t tell me you wore these for Sam.” I shake my head and his smirk grows. “For me?”

“Always for you.” His cold fingers trail down the cotton of my shirt before reaching the hem and nudging it upwards. I comply and pull it over my head before locking my fingers in his brown locks.

“Always for me? After this you may not get rid of me.” He pauses looking up into my lovestruck eyes. “You okay with that?” I lean forward and press my lips against his. Unlike before, this kiss is all skin and teeth. He groans when I roll my hips to gain some much wanted friction. “So impatient.” He says pulling away for some air. His ring clad hand slips between us and disappears passed the waistband of my shorts. He uses his index finger to stimulate the small bud of nerves before trailing down my slit to my core eliciting a breathy moan from my lips.

“Huh?” His touch fades as he moves his hand up to his lips and sucks on his newly coated finger. “Why’d you stop?” He smirks at the urgency in my tone.

“Sweeter than cherry pie, baby girl.” He lightly tosses me onto the bed from where I had been on his lap before he’s on top of me and his lips smashed against mine. This kiss is all skin and teeth as he presses his body down against mine. Breathy moans fill the room around us as the tension grows stronger till it feels like a rubber band that has been stretched too far.

“I’m ready, Colby.” He pulls away before trailing sloppy open mouthed kisses down my jaw to the base of my neck where he nips lightly at my collar bone.

“Let me just grab-“ he goes to reach for his dresser but I lightly take his hand in mine.

“It’s okay.” He visibly gulps at the two words that leave my swollen lips. He then reaches down to tug off his sweatpants with my shorts and panties following suit.

“Are you sure?” I nod, watching as he aligns himself with my entrance. He thrust forward, enough to bully his tip into my core before he lets out a soft groan. “Can I keep going?” The stretch burns slightly but I nod. He pushes deeper until he’s bottomed out. “Feel so good.”

“Okay, it’s okay. You can move.” I squeeze his shoulder gently watching his blue eyes that are now full of another emotion. His thrusts start slow, his cock dragging along my walls in a way that has me clinging to his shoulders to ground myself. He continued to thrust into me, finally finding a rhythm that allowed him to reach that one spot no one else ever had. I let out a whiny moan but he’s quick to cover my mouth.

“Is that the spot, baby?” Tears begin to pool onto my lashes as he continues driving his hips at this fast pace he has set. Within seconds my walls are clamping around him as my eyes roll back in pure bliss. “That’s it, such a good girl.” His thrusts turn sloppy and soon he’s coming undone with soft grunts and groans in my ear. When his blue eyes meet mine he smiles softly before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to my lips.

“I should probably get back to Sam and Nate.” I say as I trace his hand that entwined with mine.

“Yeah. I’m surprised they didn’t send out a search party.” I rest my chin on his chest and he kisses the tip of my nose. “You sure you won’t want to stay?”

“You could always come with us.” Colby pretends to think for a moment before playfully pushing me away and grabbing his pants.

“How about this?” My eyebrows raise, my interests piqued in whatever in could possibly be ready to say. “You follow through with your plans you got with them.” He kneels next to the bed and raises his hand to brush loose strands of hair out of my face. “Then when you get back, I take you on our first date.” My eyes light up at his counteroffer.

“You mean it?” He nods and watches with a childlike giddiness as I rush to get ready. Just as I’m about to leave his room, I turn on my heels to race over and peck his lips once more before bounding downstairs into the living room where the two boys are sitting. I plop down between them and Sam eyes me suspiciously.

“Everything okay?” I hum in response. “Really? Did he take the apology well?” I hum once more. “Seems like. Hey,” Sam pauses and catches my gaze. “Did you grab my charger?” A shit eating smirk shadows his face and I playfully punch his shoulder.

“How’d you know?” I ask as my face heats up in embarrassment.

“You have a tell.” He shrugs nonchalantly before going to stand up. “Oh, and you also have a big ass hickey on your neck.” I choke on my spit at his words before looking up at him, entirely mortified. He laughs before disappearing to the second floor.

“Damn.” Nate’s voice suddenly fills the silent room. I turn to him with my eyebrows raised. “How the FUCK did you manage to get laid before me?” Like a few seconds prior, I pull back my fist and punch him in the shoulder. He groans in pain and grabs his arm dramatically.

“I got laid in high school you prick! This is different.” He shakes his head and goes back to tuning his guitar. A blush creeps onto my cheeks as I think about how soft Colby’s lips were. How right it felt being in his arms after how long I had waited.

Then again, he had been waiting too.

#sam and colby #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #colby brock #colby brock angst #colby brock smut

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themorningsunshine · 1 year

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Muffins

Pie - eyed over you - Chapter 3

Mafia - Baker AU

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Previous Part

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Mentions of murder, lots of fluff (gotta give the fluff before the angst for it to hurt more, yup I am evil), Steve and Sam being a menace

Word count - around 6k

a/n - So, after two delays, hell a lot of editing, and straight up changing the whole structure of this chapter and then combining it with another (hence the length), it’s finally here. Thank you so much to all of you for putting up with me. Please let me know what you guys think about this. Your kind words keep me going.

You placed the muffins in a tray for display before making a note in your diary to buy more chocolate chips when you go to the market on the weekend.

Running a bakery all on your own is a difficult job but you wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world. Even though you were not a morning person, the prospect of coming here and baking made it getting up from the bed every morning a tad bit easier.

As you heard knocks on the door, you frowned before looking up, there was still some time left before it was time to open up the bakery.

But when your eyes landed on the figure standing outside the door, looking like a complete misfit in his dark clothes and sunglasses and surprisingly, a baseball cap covering his forehead, a pathetic attempt at being discreet, you can't help the way your lips turn upward and your heart flutters.

He was here just yesterday and yet it felt like you were seeing him after too long.

Get yourself together.

It's just a crush, it'll go away.

You wiped your palms on your apron before walking towards the door to open it.

You gave him a teasing smile before saying, "You're at the wrong place. Baseball convention is another mile from here."

He rolled his eyes before stepping inside the bakery, bending a little, the door a little too short for him. "Hello to you too, sweets."

You chuckled before walking towards the counter as he took his usual seat. Everything felt like a routine. Engraved in your soul as if it had always been there.

"Gracing this bakery with your presence two days in a row. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Maybe I just missed my sweets." He shrugged as if it was obvious.

"Continue this and you are going to get diabetic." You remarked with a smirk.

"Not the sweets I was talking about, but okay."

The smirk immediately left your lips as you could practically feel your heart beat out of your chest. He didn't mean it. He's just teasing.

But no matter what you think, you can't help the way the red color crept up to your neck at his words.

Okay, this crush is getting out of hand.

"So, how's work?" You say in an attempt to change the topic.

He tenses at your words. You had asked him what he did, and he had replied that he was a mechanic. It was becoming more difficult for him to lie to you.

But maybe, he won't have to much longer.

He was pretty sure Walker was on his way to screw things up.

That son of a -

"Earth to James!!" Your voice moving and your palm waving in front of his face brought him out of his thoughts.

"I asked how was work." You said with a frown. James always got weirdly uncomfortable when you asked about work. Maybe he didn't want to talk about it, but you were no one to ask.

"Oh, it's been fine. You know, the usual."

"Yeah, yeah. Steve is a dorky idiot and Sam is an annoying prick. I know." You said imitating the words he had said to you not a long time ago.

Bucky chuckles. Telling you about Steve and Sam was easier. Maybe sharing something about him which wasn't a lie, made him feel less guilty.

He knew this was wrong.

He was creating a web of lies that you will find out one day.

But Bucky Barnes wasn't a good man and he would take whatever time he has got before the inevitable happened.

Which wasn't going to be today.

He wasn't going to let Walker ruin this.

He will just sit there, hiding half of his face with the baseball cap. It would be easy. It wasn't like Walker would expect to see him here anyways.

He was just here to make sure that he didn't hurt you.

The both of you striked a conversation just like usual and you immediately felt better. You knew it was going to be a great day. Had started off on the best possible note, atleast.

The clock striked eight before you knew it and you got up from your chair to flip the sign at the bakery.

"Why don't you hire someone to help you?" James asks, sipping his coffee.

"Why, you're looking for a job?" You teased him with raised eyebrows. "Job at the garage doesn't pay enough for your baseball conventions?"

He rolled his eyes. "When are you gonna let this one go?"

"I think… never."

He chuckled before asking again, "But, seriously, sweets, why not get a helping hand?"

" 'Cause I am selfish." When he narrowed his eyes, you continued. "I know this sounds weird, but I don't like it when anybody else cooks the food. It's just never good enough."

"So, why not hire someone to deal with the customers?"

"That's literally the best part of the job." You half exclaimed. "People telling you whether they liked the sweets or not is the best part, James. Almost as good as getting to eat all the leftovers."

James chuckled before setting his coffee mug down. "There is no pleasing you."

You shrugged before walking behind the counter to get everything ready for the morning rush you were sure was about to walk through the door any moment now.

When a few people came in, some regular customers and some students hoping to get in some caffeine to start the day, you saw as James involuntarily tensed.

Bucky watched the front door with focused eyes as minutes ticked by. He knew Walker will be here any minute now.

And he was proven right as he saw John Walker opening the door of the bakery and walking in with a smug look on his face, shoving away whoever came in his path.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to pull him out of here, away from you and this warm place but he couldn't do that. There would be consequences, which he normally wouldn't give a second thought to, but the real nuisance would bring questions.

He watched as you greet him with the same grin on your face that you used for all your customers, saying in a soft voice, "Hey, what can I get you?" And Bucky can swear Walker doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air as you.

"Why not start by paying off?" Walker said with a tone harsh and loud enough that a few customers turned to see what was happening.

You frowned your eyes in confusion, "I am sorry." You were still speaking in a calm, soft voice, trying your best to get whoever this man was to calm down. You didn't want a commotion so early in the day.

"Walker." He said as if it was enough of an introduction before continuing, "And I think you have an idea of where I am coming from. You owe us."

James watched as realization dawned on your face and you stood straighter, your smile turning into a forwn. "I don't owe anyone anything."

He leaned towards you, keeping his arms crossed on the counter, speaking with a smirk, "Don't try to act smart, baby doll. Pay up and no one gets hurt."

He watches as you cringe at the nickname and almost take a small step back, discomfort clear on your face.

Bucky almost gets up from his chair, his first instinct to slit off Walker's throat with the knife he had tucked in his jacket. He would make it less messy too, but painful.

Control, he isn't going to hurt her.

"I am not going to pay you a single cent, Walker. So, why don't you take your ass out of my bakery and leave me alone?" As you speak, your hand inches towards the knife that you keep below the counter for situations like these. Even though you hoped you'd never have to use it, it was better to be prepared than sorry.

John clenches his fist as his eyes bore into your skull, "Don't make this difficult. You don't know who you are trying to mess up with. The people I work with wouldn't blink an eye before dumping your body in a dumpster. Just pay every month and we leave you alone."

"I have said it before and I'll say it again, I am not going to pay you to let me live." It's as if something switches inside you. The slight fear or discomfort that could be seen in your features is completely gone now.

Bucky watches as Walker growls in impatience before reaching for his jacket pocket.

Nope, not happening

"Listen to me, you little bitch - "

Walker is cut off immediately when a larger figure stands between him and the counter.

James shields you from him, obstructing his view.

"Leave her alone." The sound is almost a growl. And if Walker hadn't been too preoccupied he would have noticed how familiar that sounded.

"And who the hell are you?" He spat.

Bucky looks down at him and watches as all the color is drained out of his face when he recognises him.

"S - si "

"Leave her alone and if you show up around here ever again, it will be you in the dumpster, cut into more pieces than you can count."

Fear is obvious on Walker's face, as he completely forgets the weapon he was reaching for, trying to get his senses to work, confusion evident on his face.

Before he can ask any questions, Bucky takes a step towards him, with sheer coldness in his eyes as if he could slit Walker's throat right now and wouldn't blink.

You watch as the man - who had introduced himself as Walker- saunters out of the bakery with quick steps.

You frowned your eyes at whatever had happened here.

You weren't going to pay the mob any money, you knew that. But you also knew that you couldn't have overpowered that man, especially if he had a weapon hidden under there somewhere.

"You didn't have to do that, James." You said softly, in an attempt to get his attention away from the door he was boring holes in.

He turned back and you watched as his expression turned into the soft one you were so familiar with.

You walked from behind the counter towards where he was standing before explaining, "He works for the mob. Trust me, you don't want to get involved with them."

Bucky's breath hitches at that. How could he explain to you that he wasn't just involved with the mob?

"It's okay, sweets. They won't hurt me." That was some truth. They were never going to hurt him, and before Walker could utter a single word to anyone about the events of the day, he would be fired. Bucky would make sure of that.

"I know." You sighed, looking down at the floor as if contemplating something. It was silent for a moment before you looked up, "Thank you, James. It does mean a lot to me." You said with a soft, grateful smile on your face and your hand reached out to his.

"Anytime, sweets."

A moment passed before anyone of you dared to move. Your hand was now brushing his arm in slight touches.

You broke the silence, "Come on, have some muffins. They are on me." You said before turning back and walking towards the counter.

Bucky had to stand there for a moment because his skin had suddenly started to feel cold and empty. Like it wasn't enough without your touch, before walking back towards the counter and standing right in front of where you were taking out some muffins on a plate.

"So, Ms Feisty, something against the mob?" He said, trying desperately for his voice to sound joking.

You shrugged while passing the muffins to him and turning to pour some coffee for yourself. "I am not going to pay them money just because everybody else does. Why the hell do I pay taxes?"

"But the way you were standing, you don't just want to rebel, sweets. You hate them." He said, an emotion in his voice you couldn't really place. He prayed that that wasn't the case, that he had read the situation wrong and maybe you didn't really hate the mob.

"Hate is a strong word, James. I - despise them." You reply before looking up at him to meet his eyes, but he looks away, almost as if looking at you right now would physically hurt him.

"I mean, they aren't really that bad, right? It's not like I know a lot about them but I have heard they protect the city." He tries.

"Uh-huh. They are not good people. You remember that day when we met? When it was raining and I had lost my way, and you were there - "

"I remember the day we met, sweets." He interrupts. Every part of that day was engraved in his mind.

"Yeah, yeah right. So, that day I was coming back from a friend's house. She has a daughter, Ellie, about 5 years old."

He hums, nodding his head, not sure where you were going with this.

"Both of them were switching houses. Leaving their home, that they had built, to live in a one bedroom apartment in the not so respected area of the town. You know why?"

He narrowed his eyes.

"Because her dad was killed." You took a deep breath, trying to keep the rage from bubbling up to the surface. "A 5 year old lost her father, James. And why? Because of some stupid mob feud."

"What was her dad's name?" He asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"Jake"

Bucky's moments halted as images came back to his mind's forefront. He had killed that man himself. Shot three bullets straight into his chest. He had felt no remorse then. That man was a traitor. Had joined hands with the enemy, knowing very well what the consequences could be.

He had felt no remorse then because he hadn't given a moment of thought to the people he might be leaving behind. It made his work easier. Pretending that there were no consequences to whatever they did.

But now he could see the consequences. In the form of rage in your eyes at the tale and the hurt he felt in his chest, thinking about the girl. He knew how that felt. Being alone, and helpless.

"She didn't deserve that. None of them did. Nobody deserves to lose somebody they love, James. But it hits the worst when it's unforeseeable. When the people who did it are out there in the world, as if their hands aren't tainted with blood, living their life and you can do nothing about it." You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. Thinking about your friend and Elliot always brought you to tears. You tried to help them as much as you could, but there was only so much you could do.

Bucky looks into your eyes and sees tears in the corner of your eyes. He wants to hold your hand, to comfort you, to tell you that they are going to be fine. But how could he, when his were the hands that were tainted with blood, that had taken the life of that man without a second thought.

So, he just sits there, listening to you talk about the lady and her kid, even though each of your words is like a sword stabbed through his chest.

When he knows you are fine, he takes his leave, bidding you goodbye before walking out and calling Steve.

"Steve, I need you to do something."

"What's up, Buck? Everything okay?" Steve replied in a concerned voice. Even after everything, his concern for his best friend never faded.

"I am sending you some details of a lady and her kid. Send me the contacts of the person who bought their house."

"Give me half an hour. But who are these people?"

"They are going to be our responsibility, Steve."

He cuts the call and sends a quick text with all the details he might need.

He can't help but turn back towards the bakery to have one last look. He has made up his mind. He was going to tell you the truth.

he didn't care if it meant you would hate him. There were many people in the town who despised him, what's one more?

But when he turns back and his eyes land up on you, handing a cup of coffee to a middle aged lady, talking to her with a softness unique to you.

As if you can feel his eyes on you, you turn towards the window and as your eyes meet, your smile grows wider. A smile that's only reserved for him, he realizes.

And he would have hated himself for how quickly his resolve fades away.

But Bucky Barnes was not a good man.

And maybe many people in this world did hate him, but he would be damned if you were one of them.

He wanted this. The weekly bakery visits, the warmth, the sheer simplicity of it all, even if it was all this was ever going to be.

And it was about damn time he got what he wanted.

Why should he apologize for the monster he has become when no one ever apologized for making him this way?

Maybe, one day you'll find out the truth and hate him more for lying to you, but it wasn't going to be anytime soon. He will make sure of that.

So, he straightens his coat and walks away from the bakery, choosing to not pay any mind to the inevitable doom that could leave the both of you shattered.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*

"James Buchanan Barnes"

He turns back from what he is doing to find you, cross armed, shooting daggers at him.

"How could you, James? It's like you're not even trying."

He can't help the smile that finds its way to his lips at the way you look. Your christmas sweater that you had deemed "perfect" for the occasion and a scarf draped loosely on your neck, trying to look intimidating, just makes you look even cuter.

You walk towards him and take the candy decoration from his hand, to place it exactly just an inch away from where he was going to, because it looked in your exact words, "more festive"

Bucky just smiles at you as he watches you ramble more about Christmas decorations.

When a week ago, he had heard you reminding Pietro that he had to come over to help you decorate, he had stepped in and offered his help. He was free that day anyways, he had told you. There was an international shipment that he had to sign off that day, but that could wait.

When Pietro had shaken his hand and thanked him for 'saving him', he didn't understand, but now he did. You were extremely particular about how each and everything had to look for christmas and was not shy to tell the other person what a terrible job they were doing if it wasn't exactly the way you had wanted.

But if the cute pout on your face and the warmth that it caused in his chest was any indication, it was worth it. The cookies whose smell reached him even in the living room was just an added bonus.

Right now, standing in the middle of your apartment, surrounded by incomplete decorations that signaled the arrival of a festival he wouldn't have cared the slightest about a year ago, being scolded by you for not hanging the canes correctly, he regretted nothing.

3 hours and a lot of debates later, all of which you won, the house was finally decorated enough for the festival.

"Here you go." You said, handing him a warm cup of coffee and placing a plate full of cookies on the table in front of him. It was your way of saying thank you.

Bucky looks around your apartment. It's just above the bakery and much smaller than the mansion he lived in. But it felt different in a way he couldn't point out.

A shelf filled to the brim with books standing in the corner, pictures adorning the walls, each telling a different story. Some soft music playing on the speaker, it was like a blanket of warmth stood over your house. A little messy, but beautiful nonetheless.

His eyes then land on you, sitting across from him on the sofa, sipping your coffee with a warm, content look on your face, your scarf now lying on the table.

As if you could feel his gaze, you turn back to look at him and your breath hitches in the throat at the way he is looking at you.

It's as if the world could crumble around him and he wouldn't blink an eye.

You can't get yourself to look away. So, you just raise your eyebrows, because you have suddenly forgotten how to breathe and if he didn't look away right now, you are not sure you will be able to survive longer.

He just shrugs and turns towards his coffee, as if it was a natural occurrence. As if your whole world hadn't stopped spinning for a moment there.

Bucky looks at you through the corner of his eyes and watches as red color creeps up to your neck and you try your hardest to not smile.

He now recognises the feeling.

Your apartment feels like home.

And the next realization brings with itself questions and doubts he wasn't ready to answer.

He wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩

He clenches his fist as he drags his feet towards the bakery.

It was pretty late. He knew that.

But he just had to be there.

He liked his work more often than not. The impending guilt and the danger aside, the reason that had initially brought him to this world still stood.

It made him feel something. The adrenaline of each task, the satisfaction of seeing everything that belonged to his enemies burning down till there was nothing but smoke.

The mafia world had welcomed the darkness that he had inside of him and made him one of their own, for which he will be eternally grateful.

But for some time now, it hasn't been enough.

The darkness that had surrounded and consumed him for so many years now was suddenly not enough.

Something inside him changed.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, he had thought twice before shooting that man today. The whispers inside him that asked him every time 'if there was any other way' had become louder now and even the noise of the bullets couldn't silence it.

He knew what was happening.

He was seeking the light.

And every single part of him knew that this could only end in disaster. In a fire that threatened to burn every single thing to the last piece.

But that didn't stop him from taking the next step. Or the one after that.

He was still walking to the one place that could silence away his thoughts and make it all go away. Like a moth attracted to a flame.

Maybe this was selfish of him. Maybe he was tainting you with his darkness.

He will think about that some other day.

When the bakery comes into view, he realizes just how late it is.

You would be about to close now.

Maybe he could catch a glimpse before you retired for the night. It wasn't enough. It was never enough. But it had to do.

As he reaches the bakery, he watches as the door slowly opens and a young boy steps out.

He frowns before walking ahead, and his eyes almost widen with who he sees.

"Peter, what are you doing here?"

Peter looks up from the book he is currently holding and his eyes widen with fear at the figure who stands before him.

"S - sir, I - I was just - "

A voice from inside the bakery calls out to him. A voice Bucky recognizes all too well.

"Peter, you forgot this."

You step out of the bakery with a textbook in your hands as you hand it over to Peter.

Peter opens his mouth to speak but then closes it. Too afraid about what was going to happen.

You turn around and when your eyes land on James, your lips turn into a grin before you know it.

"James, hi"

Peter's eyebrows shoot up as he looks between the both of you. You have a glint in your eyes as if you couldn't be happier by anything else and the man he had feared with everything he had for the last couple of years, had a softness to his features that made Peter wonder if he was somehow swallowed into an alternate dimension.

"Hey, sweets." Bucky says almost on instinct, before turning towards the boy who is still looking at the both of them as if he just saw a dolphin flying in the air.

You probably notice it too, because you then point towards Peter before saying, "James, this is Peter, and Peter, this is James Barnes."

"James?" Peter says almost on instinct, confusion evident in his voice.

"Wait, you know him?" You ask, looking between the both of them now.

Peter looks at Bucky and almost crumbles with fear by the warning glare he is shooting towards him. But there is something else there too. Something, he can swear he has never seen in the mob boss' eyes.

There is fear in them. A tiny flicker of it. He fears the answer he is going to tell you. Whatever it was, it was too important for him.

"No, no. I don't think we have met before."

"Oh, okay." You say, confused as to what had just happened here. "All the best for the test and tell MJ I said hi," You give him an easy exit from a situation he was clearly uncomfortable in.

You watch as a small blush spreads across his cheeks before he bids you goodbye and glancing at James once, takes his leave.

"He is a nice kid." You break the silence after Peter walks away, out of earshot. "Pretty smart. I was helping him with his test tomorrow."

Bucky looks back at you and shrugs in response. "Good for him."

"By the way, it's closing time, James." You say with a teasing voice and he is relieved that you don't ask any further questions.

"Come on, sweets. You could make an exception for your favorite customer."

You roll your eyes before replying. "What about this? You help me clean up, and I get you something special I made today."

"Help you clean up?"

"Aww. The prince doesn't like to get his hands all dirty?" You smirk.

"This special treat should better be worth it, sweets." He huffs before walking inside the bakery.

You walk in behind him while giggling.

"And that's it."

You look at him with a smile and silently clap your hands together with an impressed look.

If any of his men would see him right now, wearing an apron with a bunny on it, hands covered in flour, working in a bakery with soft music playing in the background, their eyes would pop out of their heads. But he couldn't care less.

"Great job for a first timer, Barnes. You have earned yourself a serving of something special."

Bucky smirked before replying, "Something special, you say?" He leans in and sends a wink your way.

You roll your eyes before turning towards the kitchen, hoping that it wasn't evident how flustered you were.

You take out something from a box and place it on a plate in front of him.

Bucky looked at it closely with a frown. It was clearly made of chocolate and was shaped like a dome. He could swear he had never seen it in your bakery before.

"Come on, give it a try. If I wanted to poison you, I would have done it ages ago."

He picks up one and after a moment of close inspection, takes a bite.

As the taste of chocolate invades his senses, he moans and puts the whole into his mouth.

You watch as his head falls back in delight.

Once he is done, which is faster than he would have wanted, he says, "Sweets, that was the best damn thing I have ever had."

You chuckle, "You say that every single time, James."

"And I mean it every single time."

You just smile at him before putting another on the plate.

As he devours that one quickly too, he inquires, "What is it called?"

You smirk before replying, "James."

"Yeah?"

"James. That's what it is called."

His eyes widen and he takes a moment to reply, "You named a sweet after me?"

"Well, technically, you were the inspiration for this."

He frowns. "How so?"

"Well, It's full of chocolate and exceptionally sweet. It's exterior is hard but its insides are so soft, they practically melt in your mouth."

Bucky looks at you, baffled and you look away, unable to meet his eyes.

He opens his mouth to say something, but is suddenly shushed by you.

"That's my favorite song." You whisper, as if not wanting to obstruct the soft melody.

Bucky listens to the sound coming from your phone.

Wise men say

"Only fools rush in"

But I can't help

Falling in love with you

He looks back at you and at the way you have a soft smile on your face, your features highlighted by the soft glow of the kitchen light.

You look at him and with a teasing smile puts your hand forward, indicating to him to take it.

He looks between your outstretched hand and your face with a frown.

"Dance with me." Your voice is so soft, he just can't get himself to say no. But, who is kidding? He will set the whole world on fire and watch it burn with a smile on his face if you asked him to.

He slowly places his hand in yours as the music continues.

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help

Falling in love with you

The both of you stand in the middle of the kitchen, the moonlight sweeping its way through the windows.

Everything is brightened in a warm glow but you know nothing will ever shine brighter than the way his ocean blue eyes do right now.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

One of his arms finds its way around your waist while the other holds yours.

You place your free hand on his shoulder and he gently pulls you closer.

The both of you stay like that for the rest of the song, swaying slowly to the music.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

You don't know who leans first but before you know it, the distance between the both of you starts decreasing.

You hold your breath and your gaze move from his eyes to his lips.

You would be lying if you said you had never thought of this before, of how his lips would feel against yours, how he would taste like.

This man had occupied your thoughts since the day you had met all those months ago and you were pretty sure he had no idea of the effect he had on you.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

Just as the song is about to end and there's nothing but an inch of distance between the both of you, the door to the bakery was suddenly pushed open with a force and the sound of the bells invaded the comfortable silence that had covered the room in a blanket.

The both of you took a sudden step away, and you needed a moment to calm your heart which felt like it was about to beat its way out of your chest, before looking up to see who it. was.

You squinted as two men, one blonde and the other dark haired, stood at the door, looking comically too big, having no idea of what transcribed in the bakery before they had not-so-smoothly barged in.

The blonde one speaks, breaking the silence, "I knew we'd find you here."

You watch as he steps towards James, who looks at him with sheer annoyance. "What the hell are you doing here, punk?"

The other man looks at you and forms a smirk before stepping towards you. "So, this is where you always sneak off to? I guess I understand why."

James huffs in annoyance and with a sten face stops him, "Shut up, Wilson."

You look between the men who looked like they were in a staring contest when realization hit you. "Steve and Sam?"

All the men look at you at the same time and you feel like a deer caught in headlights before you stand up straighter reminding yourself that no matter how intimidating the situation was, this was your bakery.

"And you must be y/n l/n. It's great to finally meet you, Ms l/n" Steve says, smiling.

"Please, just call me y/n."

"Or we could call you beautiful." Sam replies before stepping forwards, stretching his hand to take yours for a shake.

You let out a chuckle before shaking his hand. "Y/n is fine."

"What are the both of you doing here?" Bucky speaks up, shooting daggers at Sam, his fists clenched.

"There's an emergency. We need to go." Steve replies, a serious expression adorning his face.

Sam interjects them "What's the hurry? I have heard so much about this bakery. We could eat something before leaving."

Bucky spats at him, "This bakery has closed, Wilson. Time's up. Get your butt moving."

Sam pouts and you chuckle at the antics of these grown men, "Why don't you come here some other day, Sam, I have something that I think you'll like."

Sam looks at you, a childlike smile replacing his pout, "I like her already."

Bucky steps forward towards Sam, pulling him away. "Don't listen to him, sweets."

Steve and Sam turn their head towards him so fast. you are sure they will get a sprain later. Sam raises his brows with a smirk on his face, while Steve looks at him with a smile on his.

James then quickly bids you goodbye before pulling the both of them outside the bakery.

Once they reach the car Steve and Sam had driven in, they both look at him with amused grins.

"Back off, the both of you. What's the emergency?"

Steve's expression turns serious as he replies, "Our shipment from Iran has been stopped at Morocco and they are refusing to comply."

Bucky narrows his eyes at the information. Who would dare to stop their shipment and risk getting on his bad books? "Who is it, Steve?"

"It's Alexander Pierce."

Bucky lets out a breath before looking in the direction of the bakery once more and then turning towards Steve and Sam.

"Get in the car. We need to leave right now. This is going to be a long assignment."

Next part

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mbappeslover · 1 year

Text

écoute chérie // kylian mbappé | part one.

kylian mbappé x f! reader.

saw this edit on tiktok, they edited mbappé to écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer and… i fell in love. the song is sooo mbappé.

y/n got the job as kylian’s personal assistant. his previous assistant fired for unknown reasons. y/n had heard about kylian mbappé and his terrible attitude. she wasn’t excited to work with him. but, turns out.. he’s actually not that bad.

read part 2 here.

read the finale here.

credits to the editor: strkvoid on tiktok, they did such an amazing job <3, my favorite mbappé edit.

“y/n y/l/n, you’ve been accepted!” the notification pinged and appeared at the top of your screen. you clicked on it so fast.

one week ago.

“y/n, have you seen this? kylian mbappé’s management is looking for a new personal assistant.” your friend tells you during a phone call.

“oh really?” you ask.

“yes… and, you qualify for it! like a 100 percent. wait, i’m gonna send you the link.”

you received the message and clicked on the link, it was indeed an exclusive offer/application to becoming the footballer’s new personal assistant.

“y/n, you should really go for it. the pay is amazing and i’m sure it’ll be an awesome experience.”

you skim through the countless pages and listing of requirements and benefits the job offered. plus, you were indeed qualified for the job.

“mmm… i don’t know. everyone talks about how much of an asshole kylian mbappé is. how he’s a jackass with a shitty attitude and an unbearable ego, bigger than the universe.” you explain, iffy about this whole thing.

“oh please, it’s not like you’re gonna be all lovey dovey with the guy. imagine how much money you’ll be making. you want to quit your current job right now anyway.” your friend says, trying her hardest to convince you.

you laugh. “okay, you’re right. i’ll call you back, i’m gonna read through all the paper work, submit my résumé and update you on it.”

you weren’t too serious about it, you doubted that you’d actually get the job.

everything just got real. definitely serious.

you got the job, you were on call with the footballer’s management, and you were now getting familiarized with his schedule.

“alright, ms. y/l/n, we’ve spoken through all the things you’ll be needing to do for kylian. i’ve sent you an email of a file that lists all the things you must do for him. now, all we need is for you to sign a few things. it’ll take you about ten minutes. it wasn’t much before but… some things went down. so, we had to make a few arrangements.” kylian’s manager stated.

you just nod taking everything in and trying to process it at once.

you heard the ping from your phone, signaling you got the email.

“okay, perfect. today, i’ll show you around psg and tomorrow you’ll be meeting kylian.”

a tour guide took you around the stadium, briefly explaining different areas and rooms in the building to you.

it was a long day. you were now in bed, aimlessly scrolling on instagram because you couldn’t sleep.

you’re nervous. why?

the athlete you’ll be attending to is possibly the biggest asshole in paris, france and you’re gonna have to deal with it.

you decide to go on his instagram.

“k. mbappé, 94.1m Followers, 389 Following, 1204 posts.”

you click on the first photo presented and begin scrolling down.

in almost all photos he’s smiling, with a caption full of emojis and empowering words.

he looks so… sweet?

is this the same guy with the so-called “bad attitude?”

you fell asleep.

after scrolling through all one thousand, two hundred and four posts by kylian mbappé.

your alarm rang, loudly.

you groaned, getting up to prepare yourself for the day.

after getting dressed, you received a call from kylian’s manager.

“good mornin-“ you tried greeting politely, before cut off.

“good morning dear, i need you here in ten minutes.”

“it’s only 9:00, i was told to be there at 9:30. did something happen?” you ask, exasperated.

“yeah, well, kylian decided to come earlier than we thought and right now, he wants an organic green juice from le juice. it has to be from juicerie.” the manager explains.

“le juice is like fifteen minutes from where i am right now, how will i be able to make it in ten?” you say, slightly panicking.

“well, find a way. mbappé cares about his health, a lot. all that stuff about nutrition and good food is the key to health. if you didn’t know, now you do. be here in ten, please darling!” the managers says in a cheery voice before hanging up.

first day on the job and they were already trying to make the impossible, possible.

you quickly go on the website for le juice and order and paid online for a medium organic green juice for pick-up.

you catch a taxi and head over to le juice. it was a five minute drive because it was still a bit early and the streets hadn’t start to fill yet, luckily.

you ask the taxi driver if they could wait for a quick second while you grab the order from inside.

the taxi driver fussed a bit yet ultimately decided to wait.

again, you were able to swipe up the juice since the shop just opened and customer didn’t pile up in the juice bar.

you hop back in the taxi and make your way to the stadium.

“tsk, your first day on the job and you’re seven minutes late. you better hurry up and get in there.” the manager scolds you once you arrive, outside the office room of psg.

“well, you should’ve told me i would have to be here earlier, you cunt.”

you didn’t actually say that, you thought it, but, you didn’t say it.

you quickly enter the room, with a little a stumble, almost tripping on your own feet. you quickly laugh at how much of a mess you are.

the room is packed, there’s people everywhere, most likely other staff members. you see at the corner of the room, there’s a small crowd of people surrounding something.

you squeeze in between people, trying to find a way through.

“excuse me. yea, sorry. my apologies. let me just squeeze in. i’m sorry.” you murmur out while gliding through the people in the packed room.

that’s when you were faced with him.

he’s exactly like those photos on the internet, a vibrant face, smiling while the people around him asks him questions like how’s his morning, would he like anything to drink, trivial things to simply make conversation.

the infamous kylian mbappé.

you cleared your throat, put on your most brightest smile and polite voice.

“mr. mbappé, this is your organic green juice.” you say, putting your hand out to give the drink.

the area becomes quiet as the attention shifts on you.

you briefly look around confused.

and the smile that was once on kylian’s face had disappeared.

it was replaced with a hard stoned, cold glare.

“the fuck?” you thought.

he grabs the drink from your hand, not even thanking you before continuing the small talk with staff around him.

you try your hardest not to make a face at his rude behavior.

you brush it off.

literally.

brushing yourself off, taking a deep breath. putting on a polite voice again, you introduce yourself.

“hello, my name is y/n. i’m sure your manager already told you about me, i am your new personal assistant. if you ever need me, for anything, feel free to let me know. that’s my job, of course.” adding in a little humor to lighten the atmosphere, reaching your hand out.

once again, the area of the room goes silent. his smile falls once again and he slowly turns to look at you.

“d'accord. où est ma paille?” (okay. where is my straw?)

the crowd laughs.

you reach out your bag, handing him the straw before walking away.

“the rumors are true. he’s insufferable. literally an asshole. a two-faced scum? who even treats someone like that? no wonder his old assistant left. who’d want to deal with that.” you were now on the phone with your friend who encouraged you to apply.

“y/n, calm down. i know it was frustrating, but, it’s just your first day. at least quit after you get your first check.” your friend said, trying to comfort you.

yea, that’s right. y/n cried. cried very hard. today was extremely difficult.

you followed kylian everywhere, attempting to tend to his needs, but, all he did was be rude or downright ignore you.

“sir, how are you feeling? would you like for me to schedule a massage for you, in case you are feeling tense?” you ask.

“do i look tense to you?”

“mr. mbappé, your manager has informed me that you have a meeting on friday at 3pm.”

“who makes meetings on friday? i’m not going, you’re going. i have to relax.”

“mr. mbappé-“

“please stop bothering me. aren’t you my assistant? why must you keep calling out my name, you’re here to handle my business.”

“i don’t even know what i did to him? why should i get treated like this? it makes no sense.” you complain to your friend.

“i’m sure it’ll get better eventually… hopefully.”

“yea, hopefully.”

it’s been two weeks, working as kylian mbappé’s personal assistant.

to say y/n felt drained would be an understatement.

fourteen endless days of talking to a brick, solid wall.

a brick, solid wall with snarky remarks and a stinky attitude.

“mr. mbappé, your driver is outside waiting for you. he has the specific refreshments you asked for.” y/n says.

“alright, walk me to the car.” he says.

y/n’s concerned because he usually just nods and walks to the car himself.

as the two makes their way to the car, kylian starts conversation.

“your name, y/n, right?”

this is weird.

so weird.

“yes, sir. y/n y/l/n.”

“alright y/n, can you cook?”

“yes, i can cook, why?” y/n questions.

“génial. je veux que tu cuisines pour moi. (great. i want you to cook for me).” kylian says nonchalantly.

y/n stops dead in her tracks as kylian continues to walk.

“so, now i have to cook for this man? really?

well, it is your job…

oh, shut up. i know that!

just saying…” you internally battle with yourself.

he turns around, “well are you coming? i don’t have all day and i’m starving.”

you snap out of it, speed-walking to catch up.

“why are you standing by the door?”

you were in your bosses house. well, it’s not out of the ordinary because you are his personal assistant.

however, this is a drastic jump from a few days ago, when he didn’t even want you near him.

“are you okay, mr. mbappé? it looks pretty bad. i can go get you some soothing gel!”

he hurt himself pretty badly while trying to perform a trick during practice.

“no! i’m fine. don’t touch me, move!”

he spat out, stumbling to get up by himself.

you back up in utter shock.

other staff runs up to offer him support as he limps away.

mbappé’s pov:

his new personal assistant stood at the door, looking like a lost puppy that was left for dead on a rainy night.

kylian knew he was being hard on her, harsh to her. but, he couldn’t let his guard down.

he refused to let history repeat itself.

“why are you standing by the door?” he asks.

y/n seemed to be lost in her thoughts when he said that because she snapped up and made her way into the house after taking off her tory burch sandals.

kylian observed the woman as she subtly looked around the place before making her way to the kitchen.

he couldn’t lie. she was beautiful. she could be on the cover of a makeup magazine because of how natural and pretty her features were.

he wishes he could see her smile. most of the time she wears a frown on her face, sometimes a pout that kylian finds endearing. he wouldn’t show that though. or.. say it, ever.

her hair looked so soft, her voice was so nice on the ear. she had a nice figure, ones of a dancer, delicate, light on the feet.

“mr. mbappé? did you hear what i said? i asked, what exactly would you like for me to cook?” she said. he loved her voice, utterly. like a bee, wanting to drown in honey. he wanted to drown in her voice, listen to it forever.

“call me kylian.”

for some reason, he finds himself wanting to get to know her. get closer to her.

y/n’s pov:

‘oh God, he’s staring.’ you think to yourself.

y/n has made her way to the kitchen after taking in the penthouse. it was so nice and luxurious. she wondered how much or how long she’d have to work before ever living in a place like this.

she began looking in the cabinets, taking out a few pots and pans before realizing her boss didn’t even tell her what he wanted to eat.

“mr. mbappé, what exactly would you like for me to cook.” y/n says, an attempt to ease the tension.

‘he’s still staring. what the hell is wrong with him?’

“mr. mbappé? did you hear what i said? i asked, what exactly would you like for me to cook?” she repeats.

he looks you straight in the eye.

“call me kylian.”

you two continue making eye contact, you thought you’d feel uncomfortable, but, it’s rather… nice? it feels nice. it’s the first he’s ever actually acknowledged you.

you break the eye contact, clearing your throat.

“alright, if you don’t have anything set in mind, i’ll just cook and try to make do with whatever you have here.” you say.

it’s been about 50 minutes and you’re finally done cooking. you made steak & farfalle pasta with creamy tomato sauce.

kylian went into his bedroom since you began cooking and hadn’t come out. but, you did hear faint music coming from his room.

you begin to plate his food nicely, setting it on the kitchen island with a glass cup of ice water.

luckily, you clean along the way while cooking so there wasn’t a mess. you were tired, you wanted to get home and unwind.

you walk up to his bedroom door, about to knock, when the door swings open.

“oh! i was just about to knock. the food is ready.” you say slightly surprised.

he doesn’t say anything.

but, you could care less. your attention shifts to the song being played in the background.

“is that écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer? i love that song so much.” you say excitingly, completely forgetting that you’re at work. technically.

“yeah, it is. i love that song too.” he replies with a small chuckle.

‘did he just chuckle? with me? did kylian mbappé, my rude ass boss. chuckle… with me?’

you smile, looking at the small smile that adorned his face as he chuckled.

you won. you’re winning mbappé over.

mbappé’s pov:

he was in his room, sipping on some expensive red wine from a brewery that gifted him some.

he felt at peace, moments like these to himself. drinking something, listening to music, letting loose.

not only that, but, most likely, he could smell the aroma from the food his personal assistant, y/n was making for him.

its been a little while, he was gonna go check on the food.

his favorite song comes on.

“partir, venir, mourir, courir.”

what a lovely song. he sings to himself, along the chant before making his way to the door.

opening it, there she was.

“oh! i was just about to knock. the food is ready.” she says, obviously a little spooked.

he doesn’t care about that, though. the more he looked at her, the more time he spent around her, the harder it got to suppress his obvious attraction to the woman.

he visibly sees something click in her head as she moves from his sight to get a better hearing of what was being played.

“is that écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer? i love that song so much.” she says.

‘God, she’s so cute.’ he thinks to himself.

“yeah, it is. i love that song too.” he says, trying to hold back the ‘awe’ he wants to say so bad.

she smiles.

kylian felt like his heart could explode.

without absolutely zero exaggeration, she has got to have an award for having the most beautiful smile in the universe.

that smile right there—convinced kylian that he would make it his mission to always see that smile as long as y/n’s around him.

y/n turns around, leading him to his meal.

his stomach grumbles as he lay eyes on the food. it looks delicious. better than any five star michelin restaurant he’s been to. would probably taste better as well.

he’s confused, though. there’s only one plate of food.

he turns to y/n.

“where’s your food?”

“oh, i only made food for you, sir-“

“kylian, call me kylian.”

“yes, i’m sorry, kylian.”

“i’m gonna wait here for you to finish your food so i can wash your plate, then i’ll be out your hair, if that’s fine with you, kylian.”

he knows he can’t just let her leave like that.

he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he thinks he knows what he wants.

“that’s fine. come sit down.” he says, pulling out the chair next to him.

y/n hesitantly makes her way and gets seated. kylian slides over the glass of ice water to her.

“no, it’s for you.” y/n explains.

“i know, but, just drink it. i have some wine in my room.”

“okay, do you want me to go get it and pour some out for you?” y/n says, about to make her way there when kylian gently pulls her down.

“no, no, it’s fine. relax.” he says.

kylian begins eating, almost scarfing the food down.

y/n takes a sip of the water while looking at him eat.

“is it good?” y/n asks.

he stops for a second, chewing and swallowing what’s in his mouth.

“very. best meal i’ve had in a long time, y/n. thank you.” he says with a genuine smile on his face.

y/n smiles back before bringing the glass cup up to her lips and drinking some more water.

“so, y/n, how old are you?” he says, finishing up his food.

“i turned 24 a few months ago.” y/n says.

“really? i turned 24 a few months ago as well.”

“i know that, you’re the star of france.” y/n says with a small smile on her face.

he smiles at her again.

y/n couldn’t take it.

‘this is awfully weird. why is he being so… nice. it was concerning.’ she thinks to herself.

silence takes over the room and the only sound being the fork hitting against the glass plate as kylian takes a bite of the pasta.

“kylian, why are you so mean to me?”

“y/n, i know i haven’t been the nicest to you…”

they say at the same time. they both laugh.

“you go first.” kylian offers to y/n.

“alright, i was asking. why are you so mean to me? did i do.. something.”

kylian sighs deeply, “no y/n, you did nothing wrong, but, a lot happened before that’s making me like that towards you. just know i don’t mean it.” he explain.

“well, what happened?”

“i’ll tell you later.” kylian says finishing the food.

y/n took the plate and glass cup, made her way to the sink and began washing the dishes.

y/n wondered, what was on his mind. what was he thinking about.

too deep in thought to not see her boss, kylian. staking right next to her, leaning on the countertop.

she finishes cleaning the plate and cup.

she turned to her left, her soul jumping out her chest.

“kylian! why are you always sneaking up on people.” y/n said, laughing off the remaining shock with a hand over her heart.

“sorry, sorry, i just like looking at you.” he laughs.

y/n laughs too.

“oh really?”

“OH? REALLY?” she says backtracking because it registered to y/n what he said.

“yes. you’re beautiful.” he says, stepping a teeny closer to the beautiful woman in front of him.

y/n blushes.

“the food was really good as well. i really wish you would’ve ate with me.” he says.

“i’m just your assistant. i don’t want to break any of your boundaries. i respect you.” y/n says.

“i respect you.” kylian replays it in his head.

he already had a slight crush on y/n, but, this was different.

he has a crush on y/n.

“wow, you’re making me feel like shit for treating you the way i did. i respect you, too. say, come over again tomorrow. if you make me something to eat again, i’ll tell you what happened.” he says with a smile on his face.

y/n remains silent. she was thinking.

‘is kylian mbappé flirting with me?’

there’s no way.

yes there is! look at the way he’s looking at you. he wants you!’ you weigh out to yourself.

kylian think it’s adorable. the way y/n constantly looks like a lost puppy.

he bends down a bit, leveling himself to y/n’s height to get her attention.

“everything alright in there?” kylian says.

y/n seems to still be in deep thought when kylian giggles.

he takes his index finger, placing it underneath y/n’s chin, lifting it up.

he looks her in the eye.

he wants to kiss her, her lips look so soft. he’s 100% sure if their lips were to simply graze across one another, he’d still love it. be addicted to it.

y/n looks back into his eyes, feeling her heart beat and her stomach start to flutter.

“deal or no deal?” kylian says as he tilts his head to the side.

y/n eyes drops to kylian’s lips. they were the perfect size and naturally protruded out.

she imagined how it’d feel. probably like a pillow, or, maybe a marshmallow.

y/n eyes make its way back to kylian’s.

she made up her mind.

“deal.” she says before gently removing his finger from her chin. she gathered her bags and made her way to the door, kylian following right behind.

she slipped on her sandals as kylian unlocked & opened the door.

y/n walks out, before turning to kylian who stood by the door.

“goodnight.”

they say together.

the two laugh.

“till next time then, goodnight mr. mbappé.” y/n says.

“it’s kylian and i’ll call you tomorrow. make sure you answer. goodnight, y/n.” he says, smiling.

a/n (author’s note):

i am confident in this at all.. i feel like it could be way better but i wanted to hurry and publish something to whoever’s waiting. i’ve been so busy and tired with school :,(. it was supposed to only have one part but i didn’t wanna rush the plot too much.

i tried something new with the whole “pov” thing. and, i hope it’s not too confusing because i switch from 2nd point of view to 3rd a lot.

i guarantee part 2 will be more exciting than this. thanks for reading!

#kylian mbappe fic #football #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe #k. mbappe #mbappe imagine #mbappe x reader #mbappe psg #psg #world cup #kylian #kylian mbappé #kylian x reader #kylian imagines #football imagine

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oldhalloweentape · 4 days

Text

🪨Venture (OW II) x (gn) reader ⛏️

(Confession Edition!)

(Picture’s not mine!!!)

(Thought I’d throw my hat into the ring once again, this time with Venture!!)

- Alright so, when it comes to confessions, I think Venture would be the first one to confess.

- This can go one of two ways, they barrel in and tell you with reckless abandon the second they realize they have feelings for you.

- Or, the other option, they become a disaster.

- The whole nine yards with this one, stuttering, shaking like one of those 16-year-old crusty white dogs that outlived its previous owner…

- Just a wide-eyed, frozen-in-place, deer caught in the headlights kind of look to them as they try (the keyword is trying) to admit to their feelings.

- Only to forget the plan they had in mind the second you look at them with those curious eyes of yours.

- Which— Without failure, leads to Venture becoming too overwhelmed and burrowing into the ground as a “tactical retreat”…

- Leaving you absolutely confused. Their actions, or lack thereof not going unnoticed.

- It’s odd naturally right off the bat, that and alongside them ceasing to hang out with you to try to wrack their brain on just how to do this.

- You either know what exactly is going on or you’re the most dense person ever.

- But if you do have brain cells that are eager to redeem themselves, you at least know something is up.

- Sorry, but you’re going to have to bite the bullet and confront them. Though, do it when their drill isn’t on their person.

- It’ll be worth it though because the second they’re confronted, they’ll blurt it out like they’re a volcano spewing out magma.

- They can’t keep things to themselves, let alone something like this. Just, scream it out and have a look of relief after finally (they found out like a week or two ago) getting it off their chest, then freeze up when they realize, they got it off their chest.

- If you reciprocate, they just stand there dumbly, blink, then ask “Really?” In a small voice

- Dumbfounded.

- That’s before they start celebrating by pumping their fists in the air and silently screaming in victory.

- They’re over the moon!

- This lasts for like 5 seconds before they collect their cool and lean against a nearby wall.

- That cheeky crooked grin of theirs written all over their face as they claim “Yeah, I knew you liked me, after all, who can resist this perfect smile?”

(I love them your honor)

#overwatch x reader #venture x reader #venture overwatch #venture ow2 #sloane cameron #overwatch 2 #Spotify

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 2 months

Text

Lonely Dancers

main masterlist | misc. jackles characters masterlist

SPOILERS! this story is set after the events of the movie and it (vaguely) spoils the ending

summary: when your boyfriend cheats on you, it leads you to tom hanniger

pairing: tom hanniger x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 1.7k

warnings: language, cheating, mentions of death/murder, hearing voices (briefly, very end of the fic)

author’s note: happy valentine’s day! i wrote (and barely edited) this very quickly because i wanted to publish it while it was still valentine’s day in my timezone! enjoy!

music: lonely dancers by conan gray — incredible song by an incredible artist! go pre-save the upcoming album!

Tears were still clouding your eyes as you sat at the bar. You’d driven here after walking in on your boyfriend with another woman—your two best friends had both betrayed you in the most gutwrenching way.

“Crappy Valentines?” the man a few seats down from you asked.

“Somethin’ like that,” you scoffed.

“Well–”

“Look no offense, but I’m really not in the mood to be hit on, okay? So kindly fuck off and let me drink in peace.”

He nodded curtly; “Ten-four.”

You finished the glass in front of you and gestured to the bartender for another. You downed that one quickly and again asked for another immediately after.

“Cheated on, huh?” the man from before asked and you finally turned to look at him. He had a small, sad smile on his plush, pink lips and his green eyes seemed to look at you with sympathy.

“What makes you say that?” you asked.

“I, uh, I know the look,” he replied. “How about the next rounds are on me?” he offered, you smiled a little in thanks. “I’m Tom, by the way.” You told him your name, figuring it was the least you could do.

“So, Tom, I’m guessing your Valentine’s Day hasn’t been much better than mine?” you asked.

“What makes you say that?” he quoted you with a bit of a smirk.

“You’re drinking alone in a bar attached to a cheap-ass motel,” you retorted.

“Touché,” he laughed. “So maybe my day’s been shitty too… or maybe I just came here to hit on the lonely hot chicks.”

You narrowed your gaze at him, stifling a laugh; “Maybe. But something tells me you came here for the booze and not the chicks.” His smile faded a little at that but he was quick to plaster it back onto his face. “So how about we drink together for a bit and when I’m buzzed enough we head over to the dance floor and act like our day hasn’t been hell?” you suggested.

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.”

You both got to talking and eventually, you told him the whole story. He held back most of the comments he wanted to make; hope he drops fuckin’ dead, for example, or who in their right mind would do that to such a gorgeous fuckin’ woman!?

“Well, he sounds like a major dick,” he commented.

You listened to his story too, though he clearly wasn’t being as open with you as you were with him. But, you couldn’t blame him. His issue seemed to be about trauma linked to the actual day and less about something that happened recently.

After nearly half an hour of talking, he took your hand and led you to the beat-down jukebox in the corner.

“Does this shitty thing even work?” you scoffed.

“Let’s hope it does or this dancing thing is gonna be pretty awkward,” he joked. He managed to get a song playing. “May I have this dance?” He turned from the jukebox and looked at you, but quickly noticed the tears welling in your eyes. “Shit, you okay?”

You sighed with a nod; “This was kind of… our song,” you admitted.

“Of all the songs for me to pick,” he scoffed quietly, mentally kicking himself. “I… don’t know how to switch it.”

“That’s okay,” you said softly, a sad smile gracing your lips though the tears stayed in your eyes.

“How about we dance to it anyway?” he offered. “That way it’ll become our song and the next time you hear it you won’t think of that cheating bastard, you’ll think of the somewhat good-looking guy you met while drinking yourself half to death?” He smirked and wiggled his brows a bit, making you let out a laugh.

“Somewhat good-looking, huh? Have you looked in any kinda mirror recently?”

He shrugged, still smirking; “Didn’t wanna seem too cocky; had to downplay my looks a little, gauge your reaction.” You let him put his hands on your hips as you both started swaying to the music.

“That so?” You put your hands on his shoulders before you trailed them to the back of his neck. “And what’d my reaction tell you, handsome?”

“That this song is now officially ours,” he replied. “And every time you hear it you’re gonna remember my handsome face instead of that ugly asshole’s.”

“Thanks for that, Tom.” You smiled up at him, continuing to let him guide your movements. “I’d much rather think of you.”

You rested your head on his shoulder and his grip on your waist changed to wrap around your torso. The song was slow so he didn’t feel the need to change anything about the way you two were dancing—he just held you and gently swayed back and forth with the rhythm.

When the song ended the next one that played was more up-beat and “danceable” so you pulled away a little.

“Oh my god, I love this song!” you exclaimed, beginning to dance a more energetically while you still kept your hands on him.

He chuckled at your reaction and began dancing more too. His hands went back to your waist and he twirled you around. With your back pressed against his chest he turned up the heat a little; trailing his hands forward and up your body slowly. You smiled widely, enjoying the feeling of his touch over the thin fabric of your long-sleeved crop top. He twirled you back around, your hands catching your weight on his chest.

He looked down into your eyes; “Just thought I should gauge your reaction again.”

“And what’s it saying this time?” You smiled up at him, keeping your hands on his chest.

“That it might be okay if I kiss you right now?”

You nodded before he leaned down to place a kiss on your eager lips. Before he could, however, your phone rang and you pulled back to check it.

“Damn it,” you mumbled, seeing the name.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Tom asked and you nodded. You were about to answer but he whipped the phone from your hands and hit decline. “Stop,” he said when you reached for the phone, “forget that guy! He clearly doesn’t know how to love a woman like you—someone so gorgeous, funny… talented dancer.” The last one made you laugh through the sting of fresh tears. “And I hope he drops fuckin’ dead! How about we just keep dancing so I don’t have to see those tears slip down your pretty face, huh?”

“Guess I’m all yours tonight,” you replied.

“That’s more like it!” He took you back into his arms before he kissed you.

You woke up the next morning to the sound of someone knocking on your apartment door. You sighed and grabbed your pepper spray before going to answer it. When you looked through the peephole, however, you smiled and placed the weapon down on the table by your front entrance.

“Hey Tom, what’re you doing here?” You smiled after you opened the door. He held out the bouquet of roses he had been hiding behind his back.

“Happy belated Valentine’s Day,” he said. “I hope I made it a little less shitty for you and that you won’t hate this holiday the way I do.”

“Thank you,” you replied as you took them from him. You stepped aside so he could walk in. “I’m gonna find a vase for these, why don’t you make yourself comfortable?”

He nodded and made his way to your couch. He knew the layout of your home and where you lived because he had driven you home last night (well, earlier that day, technically) and made sure you got inside safely. You had offered to let him spend the night but he had declined politely, saying that as much as he enjoyed your company he didn’t want the two of you to become a one-night-stand. “Besides,” he had said, “I’ve got something important I’ve gotta do.”

The idea that Tom’s ‘important thing’ may have been just getting you flowers made your heart swoon in a way that you’d never felt before.

You hurried and put the flowers in a vase before you went over and sat next to Tom on the couch. He smiled at you before you turned on the TV.

“Wanna watch something?” you asked but your eyes widened when you looked at the screen; “Oh my god.”

“Two individuals brutally murdered last night…” the news reporter went on to say the names of your ex and his new girlfriend (your former best friend). “Officials say it was a robbery gone wrong, due to a missing engagement ring presumably still in the romantic, heart-shaped box it was purchased in barely two weeks ago from a local jeweler. No suspects are in custody—”

Tom shut the TV off as tears began rolling down your cheeks.

“Th-They’re both dead…” you barely whispered. The thought of the two people you cared most about being killed for no fucking reason made a scream erupt from your throat. Tom pulled you into his chest and you sobbed, gripping his shirt with all your might.

“I-I’m so fucking sorry,” Tom whispered.

After a (very long) session of tears and Tom’s gentle shushing, Tom was making breakfast in your kitchen as you sat at the table.

“It could’ve been me,” you said. “I-If he hadn’t cheated on me, if we hadn’t broken up, I would’ve been in her shoes. I’d be dead.”

“Thank god you aren’t,” Tom said.

“Maybe if I had answered his call–”

“Don’t think like that,” he interrupted. “Just be grateful that you weren’t there and that you’re okay. This isn’t your fault at all in any fucking way, you understand me? It was just a robbery gone wrong and as tragic as that is, that isn’t on you.”

You smiled a little, though tears were still slipping down your cheeks. He had a point and even if he was technically still a stranger, he seemed to care about you.

“We’ve got her now, Tom. She’s all ours.”

“What’d you say?” Tom looked at you over his shoulder.

“Nothing.” You smiled sadly at him. “Just…thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

#tom hanniger x reader #my bloody valentine 2009 #my bloody valentine #jackles character #tom hanniger #jensen ackles characters #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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witch-hazels-musings · 1 year

Text

absolutely certain

Genre: sfw, fluff/angst (some difficult personality traits are mentioned)

-- a few head-canons that I think are 100000% true and you cannot convince me otherwise - hazel is *checks title* (not edited)

Includes: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, Thoma, Xiao, Zhongli

Character x GN Reader | Anthology

Albedo

he loves seeing you accomplish your goals - big or small, if you set your mind to something he is transfixed in watching you figure it out until the solution drops in your capable lap. he will aid you, of course, but only when you’ve exhausted all your options - its not that he wants to see you struggle, it’s that he knows you are capable, even when you feel l like you’re not (he’s your biggest cheerleader)

he enjoys cooking for you - it’s become something of a slight hobby for him (though it’s not often). when the moment is just right, or he finds himself preparing food for later in the day, he will make something extra and bring it your way just so he can see the smile on your face

he’s not touchy-feely - he will hold your hand, and offer respectful touch, but he doesn’t think much on intimacy, especially in public. albedo’s affection comes out in many ways, but physical affection is low on the list - it’ll take time for him to be that close. sit beside him while you both work, trail your fingers over his arm while you’re lost in thought, play with his hair - he will welcome all of them in due time; if there is more, a discussion will need to be had about what comes next. all he needs is to know what you want, all he needs is your clear consent - wherever your boundary is, he wants it defined to know how not to cross it

he has notebooks filled with drawing of you - its not a secret that albedo likes to draw things he thinks ‘capture the meaning of life.’ you’ve seen him sketch a quick portrait while at dinner and give it to the subject he examined, but what you don’t know is that some of his most treasured possessions are the sketchbooks he has where every page is filled with you. engaged in the mundane, he captures your likeness. you’re lost in your work, he traces those expressions. you gift him your smile, he’s captured it on parchment. but his most favorite drawing of all is framed on his desk, protected by shimmering glass reflecting the warm sunlight. looking at reminds him of the wholesome nature of this world because it captures purity in all forms. it represents laughter and joy, of love and family - this drawing is simple but to him its everything: his most cherished person lifting his sister into the air so she can reach the stars

Childe

he adores lifting you into the air - for fun, for love - hugging your back or wrapping his arms around you from the front, the sound of your laughter and the feeling of you in his arms, relying completely on his strength gets him going more than anything else

he wants a family with you - he doesn’t care what it looks like, 1 child, 10 children, no children - he could care less what that family looks like as long as it’s you. make him your family, allow him to expand his own - till death do you part he will never let you go

he will talk your ear off - when he’s comfortable with someone, completely trusts them, he shares his whole world - and perhaps a bit too much - he will tell you stories of his childhood, of the ups and downs, he’ll gush about his family and share pictures he has of them in his wallet. childe wants you to know him -- not harbinger him, not fighter him -- please, will you give him the time to get to know Ajax?

he thinks about things head on - because most of his problems can be solved by direct action, he will tend to offer a lot of problem solving options when you are struggling. sometimes they work and others they make you more overwhelmed; he might not notice his tactics are failing until you snap but when that happens he retreats, relents, waits for you to tell him what to do. -- ‘just hold me, okay?’ -- ‘you got it’

Diluc

he looks at you far too often - even before the two of you started dating, he found himself drawn to you. his eyes, his heart, his want to be at your side - it was practically suffocating. for a while that’s all he’d allow himself, a quick glance, a perk of the ear when he heard your voice - but you reached through the tiny crack he left open for love until he was finally brave enough to take it

he stands so close - close enough for you to feel the warmth he gives off, near enough that every once in a while you’ll feel something familiar press against your lower back - it’s his hand that yearns to touch you but tries so hard to hold itself back. he isn’t affectionate in public, but his proximity speaks every drop of love he feels for you

he’s focused - sometimes too much that it can feel like you don’t exist around him. you can be talking to him, try to ask him a question, or stand in the room waiting for him to notice you but he never does. the boy’s thoughts are consumed completely with what’s in front of him - it hurt at first but you soon learned its not because he doesn’t love you. if you really want his attention, all you need do it walk near to him and run your fingers over his ear - trust me, the eyes that find yours hold nothing but unconditional love

the master of the ‘lifting your chin’ technique - there is something about the feeling of pushing your chin up to look at him that drives him wild. the first time he did it he was nervous, worried he was being too controlling but the way you reacted told him otherwise - now, whether its to ensure you hear him, to see your face before he leaves for the day, or to hold you tenderly as he kisses you hello, he can’t get enough - and neither can you

Kaeya

physical touch is his way of life - kaeya has to be touching you in one way or another. his hand to your back, his arm on resting on your shoulder or head, his back flush against yours, chest to chest as he looks in your eyes. you’ve found yourself swarmed by his desire for touch, smothered in it at times but he just can’t stop himself. it’s his love language -- touching or being touched. the surest way to ease his stress is to place with his hair, run your fingers over his eyebrows as he rests in your lap, gently caress the angles of his face, the corner of his raised lips - let him be close to you, it’s all he needs

seriousness is not a natural reaction - the vast majority of what comes out of his mouth is a joke, a tease, a ‘this isnt very serious’ response which, at times, can be rather fun but at others it’s infuriating. he hates being serious, it reminds him of all the terrible moments in his life, reminds him of the strict world he was raised in - he never did flourish in serious land. he has a hard time shifting gears - more like those gears are coated in high-proof liquor - but if there is something he hates worse than having a serious conversation its seeing you cry ... to freeze those tears he’d do the unthinkable

he’s capable - capable in accomplishing his goals, capable in getting what he wants, capable of twisting what’s around him until it spells out his desires, his wishes - Kaeya is far more capable than he lets on and that is his best weapon. it can be quiet jarring to see him switch from the lazy, ‘go with the flow’ attitude he’s so often employs into a serious, almost terrifying focus. every time you see it it sends a shiver down your spine; not because you know what he’s going to do, but because he so easily made you forget in the first place

he feels everything - he tries not to let it show but every slight against him, every whisper spoken in the shadows he hears like another stab in the back. Kaeya might appear to be aloof, indifferent, out of reach from all the goings on around him but he’s not - in fact he’s so sensitive that he’s learned to build barrier after barrier to keep him in tact. it’s why he’s so much better at working in the shadows -- it’s easier to deal in back-alley agreements than face a world flooded with light. micro expressions, shifts in tone, these are not lost on him -- you wonder why he stares at you so much, it’s because he’s waiting for the truth to come out and hoping without hope you’ll be the one person who never lies to him

Thoma

he gives all of himself - and while this makes him a wonderful person, it also makes him vulnerable to exhaustion. the boy puts everyone, everything before his own needs that there are times you’ve found him passed out in the most random places. once he was doing laundry and you found him face first in a pile of clean clothes. he’ll try to play it off or tell you its fine - good luck trying to convince him to slow down - its like arguing with radiant sunshine (and you often lose)

best house-husband, a tad strict - Thoma doesn’t mind keeping the house clean, making food for the two of you, ensuring things are running smoothly. he will willingly let you do your own part in maintaining the household, especially after a quick lesson on proper cleaning -- just know that he isn’t shy of crossing his arms and giving you ‘that look’ when you try to out-do your limits -- ‘don’t climb so high, its dangerous.’ / ‘slow down when you’re cutting, you could get hurt’ / ‘when you need something come find me’ -- Thoma would do it all if it meant you stayed safe ... just ... let him grab the hot pan for archons sake

he holds your hand - like all the time. wherever you’re going, whenever you drift away, he will scoop your hand in his so he can keep you close, keep you safe. a kiss on the hand is a way for him to share his feelings when words aren’t enough, a gentle squeeze is a reminder he’s here with you, interlaced fingers ensure others know you are his and he is yours -- even in his sleep, your hand is in his, just the way he likes it

he’s SO encouraging - Thoma is the most positive best cheerleader you could ever ask for. he will root for you in all ways, in all cases, and celebrate with you when you succeed. he knows you are capable and can do it on your own - you’ve accomplished so much already that this thing wont hold you down for long (though he will help if you need it; after all, he can’t take seeing you sad)

Xiao

he self-isolates a lot - it’s not because he hates you - in fact, you’ve grown to be a comfortable place for him. strangely enough, his mind wanders to you so often that he has gone to the bubu pharmacy in search of diagnosis to his obsessive imaginations - but there are moments when he needs to be on his own; to protect you or his heart he won’t say. Xiao will come back, no matter how what, he can’t imagine a life without seeing your face

he tries his absolute best - he knows nothing about relationships. the closest ones he had were taken from him long ago, and the only other companions he knows are formal, respectful, and set at a proper distance - this is so new to him that he will fail a lot but he tries again, and again, and again, because he knows what it looks like to see you smile and that is something he desperately wants to see again

he’s dangerously protective - if danger ever reached you, he would show no mercy in eradicating it. in these moments he can become terrifying, almost foreign to you but there is no mistaking the hand that keeps you behind him, the arm that glows as a warning to those wanting to cause you harm, the back that separates you from all danger -- you mean the world to him and he will dive into the deepest darkness to protect your light

boy is touch starved - at first he doesn’t know what to do with himself - you put your hand on his arm and he tenses up, you hold his hand and he pulls away, you lean in to kiss his cheek and he balls his hands into fists. tender touch has never been given to him so he’s unsure how to react, uncertain if this is something he deserves -- but once he knows your hands will never hurt him, that your arms will never cage him, that your heart is as pure as the crystalflies he longs to reach, he melts. he leans into you like you are purifying water; his back relaxes against your chest as you hold him, his expression softens when you caress his cheek, he almost hums when you play with his hair - you’ve taught him so much - but he never imagined he’d learn that someone's hands could be so safe

Zhongli

he buys you the most extravagant gifts - its obvious he wants to spoil you - zhongli see’s gifts as a representation of his admiration for you, the more personalized, special, perfect the gift the more it reflects the honor you hold in his heart - don’t be surprised to see lavish clothes, ornate dishes, rare books, or other random items appear in your house - he saw them while he was out and thought of you

he listens to everything - and i mean everything. there is nothing that gets said around this man that he doesn’t hear (don’t whisper secrets, it’s why his hair is so long). something you’ve learned? he will be attentive in your recollection. something you love? he will sip his tea quietly while you explain every tiny detail - there is something beautiful in the way you shine in these moments; how can you blame him for wanting to watch

he’s a slight hoarder - he doesn’t understand the meaning of ‘getting rid of things’ and though he is very particular about the way his home looks, his office, his environment, he can build up quiet a bad habit of keeping too many trinkets (or bringing home to many for you when he knows full well you don’t know where to put it). luckily, you’ve found some ways to compromise - now there is a rotating schedule of fanciful items resting on your bookshelf

he lets you sit on his lap - like, this is the biggest win. if he’s reading, he simply chuckles at the way you crawl on his lap, the way you nestle against him, hand on his chest as you rest your back against his shoulder. it’ll make him pause until you’re comfortable but whether you stay up to listen to him as he reads aloud, or fall asleep against him, he doesn’t mind - in fact, it brings him comfort that he can’t completely articulate

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precious-little-scoundrel · 1 month

Note

Thrilled to hear there will be more naughty sleepovers! Might there be an entry forthcoming about dear Dougie aka James Douglass? Inquiring minds want to know!

Oooh Dougie my man, yes, yes thank you, I adore this fella! Come on in, bring in the beer and snacks, can’t have a dry slumber party in honor of this fella, that’s for certain. Special thanks to my contributors: @suraemoon @faegoddessog

Cock-versations || James Douglass Edition

nsfw (AF!) below the cut:

Sordid details: Gosh, how many ways can I describe cocks? The thing is that my vocabulary will run out long before the sheer and varied abundance of cock types has been exhausted. So, while fearing becoming a little repetitive here -I must direct you to the fingers and proclaim: girth. A good average in length but he’s got such a lovely stretch to give and the capable tool is set in a bevy of black curls. Which makes it look pale in comparison, with a little pink tinge and a few startlingly blue veins winding around the pillar. He’s got a seemingly small tip again, by comparison. He likes to get his in some kind of kinky manner but frequency, that’s his highest priority. Pretty substantial balls but they're very tight and round.

A note on the wielder of the weapon: here we’ve got another man who will stand alongside Rosie in his ability and need to make you laugh during. “More rubbers than he can count??” Oh this ain’t his first rodeo and his enthusiasm for the sport exceeds his condom count -and sometimes his talent but eh, whatever. An unapologetic little shit, when y’all have time you’d best prepare to get the living daylights edged outta ya, he’s a terrible tease and now he’s become aware of the galgasm he’s all about going after it in typical bombardier style: accuracy and precision but a deep seated capability to adjust as needed and still be accurate -dynamite combo after some initial bumbling.

Ad libbing the pussy: King of the Quickie, he’s a very eager fella and he’s into some kinky shit, into impossible positions for the hilarity of it and happy to contort himself impossibly too. Quickies are a way of life for this guy, not that he doesn’t like to have long excursions into romance and intimacy but he needs his fill on the hour, so to speak, so he’s gotta sneak it in regularly in between. He’s so smooth about it too, can slip you away so quick, slip into you before you can say “Flynn!”. Now, now, it must be said that he asks so sweetly, he’s a real gem, but then when he’s at it it’s like a Labrador puppy humping a leg. His voice so soft and sweet just to ask to fuck you, because you’re so pretty and distracting and it does things to him, he never forgets how lucky he is to have you despite how frequently he makes use of your allowance.

1940’s Fucbois -they don’t make ‘em like they used to.

A Jabberer: he’s such a chatty bastard when he’s inside you too, chatting between grunts and moans. Some of it's downright looney but it’s all very grateful and very flattering. I mean come on Dougie, lemme hear about how you love how this pussy feels and now onto the score and then yes ask me if I’m down to go boating next week like -yes I can handle that, keep talking to me baby boy. Ain’t stingy with his compliments either so, that’s nice, loves to spin a yarn about how fabulous you are -sometimes that brand of fabulousness should not be shared at a funeral with all your aunts around.

A comment on finesse: He lets out a whole lotta “ya like that? ya like that?” and then he’s one of those unicorn men who actually keeps doing the motion you asked him to keep doing. You ask him to do something and immediately you got it just how you want it, he had to be shown a helluva lot initially but hey, we all start somewhere. We love a fast learner. He’s so down to try new things too, never be nervous or embarrassed to ask for something, you could ask if y’all can do it dressed in tiger onesies and he’s gonna be so stoked. It’ll be funny, you’ll probably get some bruises from falling around- what’s not to love?!

Oral: yeah, he’s a snacker- he’ll go down for sure, he’s also a story teller so best believe he’ll be talking to your pussy, anecdotes, mission funnies, all about the latest canned joke he heard -not saying that it’s the best pussy eating you’ve ever had but it certainly has a vibrating mouth action quality to it, lol. Sometimes you might need to tell him to hush and finish the job. Ya know what happens then? “Right right, sorry babe, gotcha,” -and if you forcefully bring his head back down? well, y’all may later need to discuss why that fed-up action made him blow his load untouched.

I’m not saying he wants you to sometimes act unimpressed so he has to work ten times harder and you still tell him he doesn’t deserve to cum but…he does like it, take it up with him I’m just the oracle

End notes: Just don’t bore this man, whatever you do, and you’ll be the one for him -he hopes. And then you can look forward to a life of ad lib pussy skills, impromptu fucking and improv switching.

-Will likely ask you to make him a sandwich after and will pester you to let him watch you and Dorace down the street have a uh…pool fight.

#masters of the air #mota #james douglass #cock-versations #elliot warren #naughty sleepover

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iamnotthere-idonotdie · 3 months

Text

adored

…………………………………………………………………………………….

synopsis: reader works a menial job where they meet bruce wayne. the two meet up later at a bar and spend the night together.

warnings: bruce wayne (battinson) x reader, one use of “fuck”, mention of sex, cheating, drinking

a/n: no use of y/n, physical attributes of protagonist is up to reader’s interpretation, some moments are probably ooc for pattinson’s bruce wayne but i had a visison, probably some typos, also sorry i have my auto-capitalization off, this is my first ever fanfic btw so be nice pls but also very much would love feedback, i got inspired by the song adored by sea girls so listen to that too if you want an idea of the vibe here, edit: here’s the whole playlist if you want

part 1 of 3

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“jumping jack enterprises, how may i help you?”

you’re customer-service voice wasn’t in full-swing today. it was a long night with your boyfriend, john, and you just wanted friday to end. it was another night of screaming and fighting and you didn’t know how you’d make it through this. you loved him, but you’re starting to wonder if that’s enough. you’ve been trying to convince yourself that it’s only recently starting being rocky between the two of you, but the truth is you’re not sure anymore why you’re even still together.

you’ve been together 4 years now, it’s become your new normal to come home to john. to see him at his armchair by the fireplace, drinking a cocktail and reading one of his pretentious novels. but you’re only realizing now that what you thought was affection is just infatuation. the spark is gone. the honeymoon phase is over, if it ever was there to begin with.

“let me direct you to our marketing department and they’ll get you the help you’re looking for.”

you hang up the phone and glance again at the clock. 4:51. nine minutes to go until you’re able to go back home to what will probably be another night of senseless arguing.

you start to pack up your things and then the door swings open. you sigh, annoyed that someone’s come in this late to closing. but you look up to see bruce wayne. bruce wayne? what is he doing here?

“can you show me to jack bill’s office please?” he asks in a low voice.

“mr. bill is out today, actually. he’ll be back monday afternoon.”

“can you leave this for him then?” he hands you a yellow envelope, with nothing but mr. bill’s name on it.

“um sure thing, mr. wayne. is there anything else i can help you with?” you ask, hoping you’re voice doesn’t sound as shaky as you think it does.

“no, thank you.” he turns and leaves the way he came.

“have a nice day…” and the door shuts.

that was strange. what did bruce wayne need to see mr. bill for? and why leave such a mysterious envelope like that? you try not to think too deeply into it as you finish gathering your things and shutting down the computers to leave.

your phone buzzes. it’s john. he’s leaving for the weekend, to see his brother. to clear his head. to think things through. even though you should feel upset, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief at not having to fight again, at least for a few days.

you decide instead of going home to mope, you head to a local bar. you can’t remember the last time you went drinking alone. in fact, you can’t remember the last time you went drinking at all. maybe it’ll be good, a change of scenery.

you hail a taxi and ask to be taken to the jade jewel. the car zips through traffic and fights off the rain as you make your way to the bar.

you’re there, and you feel a sudden wave of anxiety. maybe this isn’t a good idea. alcohol is probably not what you need right now. but the taxi’s already left to find another fare, and now you’re stuck, in your work clothes, at the only bar in town your mind could conjure up. you reluctantly walk in and get a table.

the bar is not how you remember it. it’s now more of a chill jazz club. okay, maybe this will actually be good.

you order an old fashioned and listen to the live music, the piano and the bass intertwining to make beautiful melodies. time seems to stand still as you’re lightly swaying along in your seat to the music. turns out, this is exactly what you needed.

you don’t pay attention to how long you’ve been sitting there, but it seems to be a while as people are starting to leave. the door opens and closes as couples file out to go home, but then you see out of the corner of your eye a familiar face. before you can fully register who it is, he’s waking over to your table.

“you work at jumping jack right? i saw you there today, gave you that message for mr. bill.”

“yeah, that was me. i didn’t know you came around here.”

“it’s one of the few places i can go without worrying about the press. if no one expects you to be here, then they won’t look for you here.”

“that makes sense i suppose.”

“i apologize for leaving in that way. i didn’t want to keep you there too late.”

“it’s okay, i was just confused about the envelope.”

“it’s just a letter letting him know about a potential merger. he’s done some great research that i think we could both benefit from if we work together.”

“yeah that sounds like a great opportunity for him.”

he just nods slightly as he sits there, and the two of you turn to watch the band play.

the now mostly empty bar becomes quiet for a moment as the band switches songs. you and bruce lock eyes, and for a brief second, you get butterflies in your stomach. he lightly smiles at you and you smile back. then the music picks up again, a slow tempo, romantic song. bruce holds his hand out across the table.

“would you like to dance?”

you pause for a moment, confused by his question. bruce wayne does not seem like the dancing type. but you have one and a half drinks in you and without thinking anymore, you smile softly and nod. he takes your hand and you both get up from the table, moving over closer to the stage. he has one hand around you, pressing against your back and the other hand is holding yours. you sway slowly together, to the beat of the jazz band’s tune. after a minute of this, he slowly guides his hand lower down the small of your back and brings you in closer. you’re pressed against each other, tightly, as you two dance in the lowlight of the bar. you haven’t felt like this in a long time. john never danced with you, even when the relationship was at its best. after what seems like forever, the song ends. but you stay holding onto each other. you turn to look up at him and he’s looking at you too.

“the music’s stopped” you say quietly.

“i know.” he says even softer.

…

the sunlight pries your eyelids open as you blink to wake up. morning. saturday. you breathe in deep and let out a sigh.

bruce lays beside you, still snoring softly. you want to feel guilty. for fucks sake you’re waking up with bruce wayne next to you, in the bed you share with your boyfriend of 4 years.

but you don’t. because you just had the best night in a long time. you slowly get up out of bed and throw bruce’s shirt on. as you make your way to the kitchen, you can’t help but smile a bit.

you scoop the coffee grounds into the filter and pour some water in the machine, letting the bubbling of the coffee maker lull you into a daze. you just keep replaying the night you just had over and over. the music, the dancing, the sex. you can’t even remember the last time you and john had sex. you think of john, at his brother’s house, looking out the window at the same morning sky you’re seeing now. you start to feel a bit of guilt creep in when the coffee finishes brewing, and you pour a cup. you sit in the armchair, the same one john sits in, and sip. you force yourself to not think of john, to think of anything, just enjoy the coffee as it warms you up.

your daze is suddenly broken when you hear the sound of liquid pouring. you turn and bruce is making himself a cup. he’s wearing nothing but his underwear as he makes his way toward you. he leans down and you kiss him.

this is what you want to feel, right? an aching, longing feeling, like you miss him even though he’s right beside you. bruce sits in the chair next to you, and the two of you just drink the coffee, no words exchanged.

this is how you want your mornings to be. this is how you want to be.

adored.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

#bruce wayne #battinson #the batman #robert pattinson #fanfic #bruce wayne x reader #first fanfic #pictures from pinterest #part 1 #part 1 of 3 #batman #batman x reader

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 2 years

Note

Peter giving reader back rubs amd things escalate bcz the sounds coming from her r such a turn for peter

Hope you like it babe, it's like a little baby smut. I just typed this up real quick and didn’t edit so let me know if you find and errors please! Thanks for sending this in, love you xx

Something More

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: sexual situations, smut

Summary: Things get a little heated when Peter tries to help you relax

Masterlist

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“Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been sitting here all day,” Peter grabbed your shoulder, massaging them gently as he tried to pull you away from the table.

“I’m really worried about my econ final,” you sighed, unable to resist leaning back into his touch.

“I know, but you’re just wearing yourself out,” he kissed the top of your head, “You’re not gonna get anywhere if you don’t take a break every once in a while.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right...”

“I’m definitely right,” he squeezed your shoulders, “Why don’t you come lay down for a little while? I could give you a little massage and then we can study together.”

“That sounds really nice, thank you Peter,” you smiled while he pulled you out of the chair, gently tugging you towards your room.

“I thought it would,” he held your waist while you walked. He tugged gently at the bottom of your shirt when you sat down, “Wanna take this off?”

You nodded and lifted the shirt off your head, Peter blushed at the sight of your bare chest. It didn’t matter how many times he saw you naked, he always made you bashful. You laid down on your stomach and Peter crawled behind you, straddling your lower back.

“I can’t promise it’ll be great, but I’ll do my best,” he promised while he started to work over your skin.

“That’s okay Peter, it feels great already,” you assured him.

You were much more tense than you though you’d be, and Peter’s hands felt amazing. He applied just the right amount of pressure to relax the knots in your back, making you whimper under him.

“That feels amazing Peter,” you moaned happily.

He blushed at the sound, suddenly his throat felt dry, “Thanks, I’m glad it does.”

You continued moaning and whimpering under him while he worked. His whole body felt hot, every sound you made sent more of his blood rushing south. When he reached your shoulders you let out a particularly erotic sounding moan and Peter bit down on his cheek. He tried to will himself to stay calm but he couldn’t help growing hard. He shifted above you to try and hide his arousal from you so you wouldn’t think he’d dragged you away just to have sex.

“Peter,” you smirked under him, noticing how fidgety he had become, “Are you alright?”

“O-Of course,” he cleared his throat, “My leg was just falling asleep.”

“I see,” you hummed, “That’s funny because I swore I felt something poking my back.”

“N-No! No, you didn’t feel anything, it was just my knee,” he lied.

“That was so not your knee,” you giggled, “Come on Peter, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I was just trying to have sex or something, I really want to help you relax,” he pursed his lips, continuing to work at your shoulders as he spoke, “It was just that you were kind of moaning and stuff...”

“I can’t help it, you’re just making me feel so good Peter,” you purred, “So, so good.”

He swallowed and took a long breath, “Come on.”

“But you are,” you insisted, “And if you let me roll over I’d like to make you feel good too.”

Peter climbed off you right away, his whole body buzzed with anticipation. He slammed his lips against yours the second you rolled over, his hands began to wander your bare torso. You tugged his shirt off and he attached his lips to your neck.

You moaned as he nipped at your skin, he smiled against you, “God your so sexy.”

“Mmm, so are you,” you grinned as he tugged your shorts and underwear off your hips, “So, so sexy Peter.”

He moaned loudly when you started palming over him. His lips returned to yours while he struggled out of his sweats. With both of you left in only your underwear you rolled over so you could straddle his hips. You ground down against him before separating again.

“You so fucking gorgeous,” he grinned up at you, one of his hands grazing over your breast.

You whimpered when he pinched your nipple, grabbing onto the edge of his boxers, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his lips to yours again.

You helped Peter out of his boxers and took him in your hand. He moaned happily at the feeling and let you push him back onto the bed. He was hard already so you hovered above him, he held your hips to help keep you steady. Gently he pulled you down onto him, pushing his hips up and moaning at the sensation. You whimpered as you sank down onto him, he massaged your hips encouraging you to relax against him.

“Just tell me when your ready,” he brushed the valley between your breasts with the back of one of his hands.

You nodded, “Yeah, just a second,” you rocked your hips lightly against his while you adjusted to him.

“I wanna hear more of those pretty sounds you were making for me baby,” he smiled lazily up at you, moving his hand down towards your core.

His thumb grazed over your clit, working slowly to make you feel as good as he could. You inhaled sharply before you moaned. You started to rock your hips a little harder against his before you started riding him. Peter rocked his hips upwards to meet your movements. He started to rub your clit harder and faster, drinking in your pleasured moans with a big smile.

“Fuck baby, I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he warned.

“Me either,” you gasped as he thrusted up into you, “Fuck, right there Peter, please.”

“Yeah? Am I making you feel good baby?” he squeezed your waist.

You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut, “Yes Peter, I-I wanna cum together.”

“Me too, are you close baby?” he panted as he felt you clench around him.

“Really close,” you confirmed.

Peter pushed himself up so he could kiss you again, smiling while you moaned into his mouth. You squeezed his shoulder and tried to pull away so you could tell him you were about to finish, but he pinched your clit and all you could do was gasp. Peter groaned as you clenched down around him, falling apart just a second after you did. He continued rocking his hips against yours, helping to work both of you through your highs.

He pressed his forehead against yours as you both started to come down. Both of you were panting and smiling. You let out heavy, breathy laugh that Peter couldn’t help but copy.

“So how was the massage?” he teased.

You laughed, “It was great, I really appreciated the happy ending.”

“Me too,” he kissed you deeply and fell back onto the bed, “You wanna lay down for a little while?”

You nodded and climb off of him, instead opting to lay down with your head on his chest, “I wanna snuggle.”

“Me too,” he wrapped both of his arms around you and kissed your head, “But you should go pee first.”

You groaned, “Can you stop being responsible for five minutes?”

“Not when it comes to your health,” he smiled at you while you dragged yourself out of bed.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, you’re the best boyfriend in the world,” you padded over to the bedroom door and looked back at him, “Don’t more a muscle until I get back.”

He chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting right here for you.”

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Taglist:

@spideyssunshine @namoreno @thevery-firstpage @zspideyy @emistrash @andreagf956 @tomsirishgirlx @agbspidey @peachyafshawn @sleepybesson @nj01 @misshale21 @prancerrparkerr @raajali3 @ellabellabus07 @mayal0pez @xoxomaterialgirl @belovedholland @minjix @blankspaceblankday @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @holyhumorliteraturelight @graciexmarvel @edgycatx @secretsthathauntus @lnmp89 @kbakery @negasonic-teenage-asshole @rednights

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placeinthisworld · 12 days

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just curious what you mean about your idol becoming what she used to sing about? what do you think has changed? no hate just genuinely curious

i feel like over the years her music has become more jaded, less personable more targeted. she used to sing about her experiences and feelings more generally and therefore held more interest bc of the relatability aspect of her songs. like for all the ogs which i may still listen to she had so much intent in the songwriting. like, as a teenager i never went through a breakup (still haven’t?) so i could never relate to her breakup songs in a traditional way- but the way she would write about her feelings would still feel relatable to me enough to help me through different situations.

i feel like now she writes to complete and album. she knows she can bullshit something quick is she’s motivated enough. it feels like midnights was a first draft- like it was never edited and perfected it was just written, recorded and produced. done.

i also feel like her fanbase has a lot to do with it. i think when folklore was released, she had disappeared from the spotlight long enough for the general public to forget why they were so against her to begin with. i think taylor made her dating life a main highlight in her career (whether that was on purpose is another debate), so when she got with joe and went private for a bit the general public weren’t being plastered w ts/ bf gossip and sightings to annoy them and remind them of her “serial dater” reputation. and when folklore came out it was purely about the album and not the relationship that influenced the album bc it was “fictional,” and people needed something fun to transfix on when the world was unpredictable and scary bc of covid- which is why everyone and their mom became a swiftie overnight. nobody speculated about what song was about who (i mean swifties did ofc but it wasn’t a world wide thing- it was just rocking out to august). the internet definitely shifted during this time and it feels like everyone became chronically online.

long story short: i feel like taylor is using her songwriter and platform as a weapon. she knows her fans are weirdly cult like and notoriously known for being bullies on the internet, and that they’ll buy and believe anything she says. i think everyone will be expecting a folklore- likeness to ttpd but i think it’ll be a cheap way of blowing over her relationship with joe and changing the narrative for rep tv. overall it just feels like all of her songwriter is so personal to her life and her relationships it’s not relatable anymore, her words don’t have the impact they once did. everything feels tailored to her life specifically and it’s more of a show for swifties to make pick up easter eggs for clout on the internet. like she knows what she’s doing with ttpd, we all know.

it’s evident in the way she markets herself, it’s evident in the lack of marketing of her albums. she knows her fans will promote it for her. no lead single, no real description of the album or anything. hundreds of dollars of encouraged preorders for something you don’t even know if you’ll like until you buy it. fucked with umg to try to return it if you don’t. fomo if you missed out on an “exclusive” or “limited” item.

also just the whole miss americana thing she’s ignoring. we all heard her. she said she wanted to be on the right side of history. yet here she is politically silent as always- besides that one time in 2020 when she coincidentally had something to release….

(also unrelated….but like the taylor overexposure is real. i love that she’s interested in doing different things but i wish she would prioritize quality over quantity. it feels like she’s rushing through everything to get to the next one. i just wish she would care more about her art than breaking records and being #1/ talked about constantly. it just feels very….narcissistic? like girlie you’re a billionaire and youre still in your early thirties what are you trying to do??? be the first person to sing on the moon like??? when is it Enough for her?)

#answered #anonymous #anon #like ‘i’ll never change but i’ll never stay the same either’ bullshit just bullshit #you changed as soon as you realized how to have your cake and eat it too girlie

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juipterjim · 9 months

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Things I hope happens in BTSV:

-Pav/Spider byte getting more screen time

- Miles deserving to have a moment where he just POPS OFF at Peter B., Gwen, etc. for keeping him in the dark and for the stunt they pulled in ISTV (ik it was needed for miles to take that leap of faith but still, I bet he’s still mad for that. He literally said “worked last time, why not run it back huh?”

- someone theorized that the actual villain may be Lila (the AI) and NOT Miguel. I believe he mentioned something along the lines of her using him as her pawn in whatever she’s scheming. I also remember him saying, “Cause AI can’t be trusted” and it honestly convinced me(you can find it on tiktok cause he explained it better 😅). Not only that but that would be a MAJOR plot twist👀

- just a hunch, but I have a feeling that they’re gonna kill someone off (idk who exactly but it’ll probably be someone that we least expect)

- All the spider people in the spider society BETTER be looking at Miguel in a whole different light after that whole chase scene💯(seriously, we’re talking a GROWN MAN going after a TEENAGER on ALL FOURS just cause he wants to save his dad, CHOKE SLAMMING miles against the train, and telling him that he’s a mistake like EXCUSEE ME?! Miles never ASKED to be bitten but he DID. Can’t change it now buddy like-)

- Gwen and Miles reconciliation✨

-Hobie and Noir bonding and becoming friends✨

- 42 miles and 1610 miles having a brotherly relationship✨(not without some form of angst at first)

- 42 miles teaming up with the squad✨

- spider byte meeting 42 miles and then having some prowler byte moments✨

- the whole squad having fun together by the end of the film before they all go back to their respective universes✨

That’s all I got at the moment, might edit later when I got more

#astv miles #astv #prowlerbyte #astv gwen #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #theories #42 miles morales #1610 miles morales #spiderverse pavitr #spider byte

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crowleys-hips · 4 months

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For Laura @wibbly-wobbly-blog Based on our stupid headcanon that they get a pet ___ by accident when they're living in the South Downs. Chaos ensues. Happy Birthday!

summary:

Crowley finds a crippled, dirty rat as he's coming out of the grocery store. Or at least, what he presumes is a rat. He's delighted with it and takes it home. Aziraphale is shocked at the strange creature and insists they have it checked to make sure it's a rat. It is not a rat. They keep it anyway.

Crowley stops his shopping cart as he spots an odd movement on the sidewalk and peers down. A little creature is viciously gnawing at a wet piece of cardboard next to the garbage bin. Its hind legs are missing, its tail is awfully crooked, and its entire tiny body is covered in some black, slimy thing. Mud, or oil probably. Downright filthy. He makes a disconcerted face at it and leans down. The creature peels its teeth at him.

“Oh, you poor rat. Here, let’s take you home buddy. We’ll get you cleaned up,” he tells the creature, and without thinking it twice, he miracles a cardboard box and carefully scoops up the little fella. “In you go.” The creature wiggles in his hand and growls in what it hopes is a ferocious and threatening way. It sounds more like a deflating cat.

Crowley puts the box in the front seat and bundles the groceries in the trunk, then climbs into the driver’s seat and turns to the box beside him, putting it on his lap.

“Alright, it’s been a looong time since I’ve done animals, it was never my field of expertise if I’m honest, but I’ll do my best. You ready?”

The creature peers up at him with big, round, beady eyes expectantly. Crowley snaps all the filth out of the creature, revealing its tawny brown fur, all squeaky clean now. Then he concentrates for a second, willing brand new ratty hind legs for the little thing and righting its thin, brown tail. It doesn’t react at first, but soon it becomes aware of its new limbs and tentatively stretches a little leg. It seems to like it, so it wiggles a little foot and twirls around in place, testing out its new limbs.

“All better! See? You’re welcome,” Crowley smiles proudly to himself as he settles the box in the back seat. “You’re gonna love your new home, ratty.”

The drive home is swift and calm. He hears some whiny squeaking in the back, but it’s to be expected from a startled, newly rescued creature he thinks. What do rats eat? He briefly wonders, but decides to worry about that later. He’s got a whole bundle of fresh groceries in the back, it’ll probably like something .

As he pulls over in the driveway of the cottage, he honks twice to signal he’s home with the groceries. He steps out of the car and not five seconds later, Aziraphale is at the door, greeting him with that radiant smile of his.

“Hey, angel,” he waves.

“You’re back early,” he says as he walks up to him and leans up for a kiss. “Did you get everything?”

“Oh, I got more than everything,” He says with a cheeky smile, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I brought a little surprise.”

This, of course, isn’t unusual of Crowley. He often surprises Aziraphale with all kinds of little gifts. Flowers, chocolates, desserts, fine wine, tickets for a play or an opera, a new first edition that Aziraphale had been wanting that he just happened to come across. All sorts of things. The angel is spoiled rotten. But that wicked smile on Crowley’s face borders on manic. There’s something he’s not telling. Aziraphale smells mischief.

“What did you get?” He narrows his eyes at him.

“Wait and see,” he laughs and kisses Aziraphale’s little pout. “Help me get the groceries inside, then I’ll show you.”

Aziraphael huffs and watches him walk to the back of the car. He doesn’t notice the box in the backseat.

Once all the bags are in the kitchen, Crowley stops Aziraphale in his tracks.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” He kisses his forehead and bolts out the door, leaving a baffled angel in the hallway.

He comes back with the box in his hands, looking like he just won first prize at the first grade spelling bee.

“Surprise!” He lowers the box so he can see the little creature inside. “I found us a pet rat!”

Aziraphale’s eyes widen at the sight of the creature. It peers up at him with big googly eyes. “What is that?”

“I just told you, it’s a rat!”

Aziraphale is nonplussed. “What in Heaven-”

“Oh, don’t give me that look, angel. The little fella was in trouble! I found it by a trash bin on the sidewalk outside the grocery store, without hind legs, a broken tail, and covered in filth! What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just leave it there. And besides, rats are very useful to keep around, you know, they’re great informants if you train them well and-”

“Yes, yes sweetheart, that’s all great,” he interrupts before he can keep rambling on, placing gentle hands on his upper arms. “I’m glad you rescued this…creature,” he looks at it doubtfully.

“...But?” he looks at him expectantly, almost pleadingly.

“I don’t think…Darling, I don’t think that’s a rat at all.”

Now it’s Crowley’s turn to look absolutely baffled. “What do you mean it’s not a rat? Of course it’s a rat! I think I know a rat when I see one,” he scoffs.

“It’s just. The head, look at its head, it’s too wide,” Aziraphale tries to explain patiently. “And I think it’s a little too big to be a rat-”

“What, so now rats can’t be a bit on the large side? That’s a bit hypocritic-”

“Don’t even go there,” He warns. Then, under his breath, “Thoughtyoulikedmesoft,” he looks off to the side, indignant.

“Angel, of course I do! Don't put words in my mouth. I love you! You’re gorgeous!”

Aziraphale can’t help his little grin.

“Point is. This rat needed help. So I brought it home.”

He sighs. “Dear. How should I put this?” He covers his hands with his palms on the sides of the box. “We can keep it, but-”

“Yeah?” Crowley smiles brightly.

“Yes. But we have to find out what kind of creature it is.”

“But-”

“Crowley I’m pretty sure it’s not a rat. It’s all wrong! Its body and legs just don’t match up!”

“Excuse me? I gave it those perfect ratty legs!”

“That doesn’t mean the creature originally had rat legs.”

“How would you know? Were you the original chief rat designer?”

“Well no, but neither were you-”

“But! But I’ve worked with rats before,” he points out. “They’ve helped me out on quite a few projects. I think I know a thing or two.”

“I just think we should verify it with an expert, just to be sure,” he gives him a stern look.

Crowley lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, knowing that if he doesn’t accept defeat now, this will go on forever and ever and ever, and he’d much rather be having dinner right now. And he’s pretty sure the rat would too. “Alright. Fine.”

Aziraphale grins in his small victory and leans in to press a tender kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll go finish preparing dinner. Would you help me by putting the groceries away and setting the table?”

Crowley gazes back at him reluctantly. “What's for dinner?”

“Baked salmon and Mediterranean salad, with your fresh cherry tomatoes,” he smiles proudly.

“Yusssss!”

They have a nice dinner, and feed the (presumed) rat its own little piece of salmon with a small side of sliced cherry tomatoes and water in a little bowl.

When they're getting ready to go to bed, Crowley sets the box down beside his side of the bed and picks up the feisty little creature to help it get comfortable in its temporary setup by adding a couple fluffy towels to the base of the box. It promptly tries to bite his hand off.

“Ouch! You little shit!” he mutters and drops the creature on the floor along with the towels.

The creature scurries under the bed and growls at him from the shadows.

“Oh, no you don't. No wandering around the house just yet. Gotta show you around first so you won't get lost,” he tells the creature as he folds the towels into the box, creating a nest-like little thing for it.”C’mon now,” he whistles at it, beckoning it to come out.

It hisses at him. Crowley frowns. That's always worked with rats before. He tries whistling again but it stays put. He sighs and curls his finger up twice, magically pulling the creature out from under the bed. It is not pleased and it dares to scream at him. Crowley’s eyebrows shoot up. That's a new one. He's never heard a rat scream before, but he chalks it up to just nature being weird as usual. In favor of keeping his hand attached to his arm, he levitates the wriggling creature into its new makeshift bed. He watches it stand up on its hind legs and glare up at him menacingly with those big black eyes.

“Sweetheart?” Aziraphale pops his head out of the adjacent bathroom.

“Yeah?” Crowley glances up at him.

“The bath is ready. C’mon,” he smiles.

Crowley grins, giving the rat one last stern glance, and trots up to meet him in the bathroom and lets him help him out of his clothes as he does the same for him.

“I don't think the ratty likes me much,” he mumbles as they sit together in the tub after having washed each other.

“Why do you say that?” Aziraphale peers up at him from where he's nestled comfortably on his chest.

“It bit me, look!” He lifts his hand and shows him the tiny teeth marks on the back of his hand. “And it screamed at me when I pulled it out from under the bed.”

Aziraphale lifts an eyebrow. “I don't think rats scream.”

“Well, this one does.”

The angel sighs and presses a lingering kiss to the back of his hand, healing the mark. “Just give it time, dear. It's probably just not used to being cared for. Reminds me of someone I used to know.”

Crowley frowns. “Who?”

Aziraphale snickers under his breath and turns around to face him. “You, silly.”

“Are you comparing me to a rat?”

“I'm just pointing out a similarity.”

Crowley grumbles, and Aziraphale kisses his pout. Crowley dissolves into his lips.

They have to wash up all over again after that.

The next day, they take the (presumed) rat to a veterinarian and it gets diagnosed with, to quote the doctor himself, “It seems to be a young chihuahua with a slight deformation on its hind legs. Where did you say you found it?”

Crowley freezes time and stands still for a moment, clenching his jaw. Aziraphale bites back his I told you so and looks back and forth between the frozen doctor, Crowley, and the apparent chihuahua.

“Dear?”

“What the FUCK.”

They're sent home with a newly vaccinated chihuahua (with newly restored chihuahua legs thanks to Aziraphale), some dog food, and a few other supplies for the new member of the family. Crowley half considers walking straight into the ocean and never looking back. He sulks the entire drive home.

“It's not so bad, dear, really. Easy mistake to make,” Aziraphale says, trying to soothe his mortifying humiliation. “They're both such small creatures, how were you to know it was a dog?”

“Nrrgghh,” says Crowley.

“We don't have to keep it if it upsets you. We could give it into adoption-”

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“Nghh it's just. It's just. It's not their fault they were thrown out onto the streets like that, and I picked them up and it would feel wrong to just kick them out again.”

“I see,” he pats his thigh gently. “Well then, we'll just have to learn how to take care of it then.”

“Can't be that hard. We’ve already raised a kid, how much different can it be?”

Not even a month later, The tiny dog-not-a-rat and Crowley are inseparable. They name her Ratty at Crowley’s insistence. Crowley becomes obsessed with teaching her little tricks like twirl, roll over, fetch, jump through a hoop, and to Aziraphale’s aggravation - hide books (only the small ones since she can't handle more than that), steal Aziraphale’s spectacles, and interrupt reading time with endless yapping. To make up for it, he also teaches her to deliver small gifts, like love letters tied to her back with a bow, little boxes of sweets, and flowers from the garden. Aziraphale is over the moon and welcomes the new attention wholeheartedly.

Then Crowley makes a tiktok account for her.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens s2 #good omens s3 #good omens ficlet #good omens fics #good omens fanfic #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #ineffable lovers #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #air conditioning #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x arizaphale #good omens fic rec #crowley good omens #aziraphale good omens

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onboardsorasora · 3 months

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I just like the fic idea of this whole Daniel and josh as a PR relationship that turns into something real. WAG Daniel is one of my favourite Daniels. He’s thrive as Josh’s wag.

Do you mean something like this? I hope its what you're looking for? (I also haven't reread/edited😬)

Daniel tugged at his beanie, it was freezing even inside the car.

“He really couldn’t have let Tua have that last game? We could have been playing in Miami again.” Daniel grumbled, his favourite refrain since realizing that the Bills getting the number 3 seeding and home field advantage had meant that they’d be back up north for the rest of the playoffs.

“Miami is having a cold front right now– you’d still be cold DR.” Blake pointed out, barely looking up from his phone. The SUV rolled forward slowly, pulling to a stop by one of the more private entrances to the stadium. There was a crowd of people, hoping and praying for a quick peek at Taylor no doubt.

“Yeah but a Miami cold front is still like….not snow.” The door opened and Daniel walked confidently behind their security team, waving and smiling at a few of those that apparently came to see him. He signed a few caps and took a few pictures before trekking into the stadium.

The biting feeling subsided as they went further into the comfortable set of tunnels at Highmark Stadium. Daniel grinned and greeted all of the staff that greeted him, that had become familiar to him since preseason when he had his brace and needed a change of pace. Josh had invited him to stay for a week during training camp. He hadn’t expected the warm welcome from the team (he thought himself a distraction, truly wanting to sit somewhere quiet and observe). They’d taken him in like family, Steffon’s girlfriend– Tae – had taken him to lunch.

They hadn’t been together then, but that had changed quickly. Their regular facetimes and phonecalls made them comfortable with each other. Being in close quarters had made them aware of each other. It kind of just… happened.

“Do you wanna go to the box first or the locker room?” Blake asked, pulling Daniel from his thoughts.

“It’ll probably be faster if we swing by the locker room now. Catch them before Brady starts going over stuff.” Daniel pulled at his Bills Mafia scarf, rolling it around his forearm. They took a left and walked down a few more corridors before stepping into the home team hallway. They stepped into the noisy room, watching as the group of burly men roughoused and teased. One of the linemen noticed him first, pulling Daniel into a quick hug.

“Dammit, we’re late. No ones naked anymore!” Daniel complained loudly, laughing and dodging attempts to pull him into the middle of the chaos.

Josh walked across the room, his half done up pads jutting off of him on all sides. His mouthguard stuck out through his teeth as he smiled.

“Hey you.” Josh pulled him into a hug, crowding Daniel’s smaller frame with his bigger one. He flipped off the guys when they wolf whistled.

“Hey yourself. Fuckin full send out there, yeah?” Daniel smiled widely when Josh’s eyes lit up. He particularly loved it when Daniel told him good luck the same way he’d tell another driver.

“No half sends.” Josh parroted back. Daniel leaned up onto his toes and pecked him on the lips before backing out of his arms. He left the room with a wave to the rest of the team and a swat on his ass.

“You think they have red bull? Or is that like a sponsorship thing?” Daniel mumbled to Blake as they walked towards the family box.

#not a lot but I think its cute?#dosh #and blake #i forgot that i have actual nfl knowledge sometimes lol #answered #anonymous #my ficlet #also if I fucked up the seeding...don't come after me lmao I couldn't remember if it was second or third seeding that they played for #pr relationship au

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obstinaterixatrix · 6 months

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I read all of The Honest Life of a Game Studio and now I am obsessed do you have recs for anything like it.

I wish. I FUCKING WISH. but it’s really one of a kind. higefusa really just wrote mundane slice of life office drama with the level of detail that could only be provided by a gamer who has worked in the industry AND he threw in some life or death stakes as a treat. how often do we get an incredibly normal office worker stuck in time prison??? and it’s ONE ARC??? not often enough.

none of these are gonna be just like game-ya but in terms of romances with attention to detail for industry/niche fields… ok all of these are gonna be kind of weird so bear with me.

double section is a BL about an auditor for an insurance company and an insurance salesman, I wouldn’t necessarily give it a blanket rec but I liked how Passionate the main characters were about audits and workplace regulations. a lot of heated drama for the most normal office setting possible. in the author’s note the artist talks about interviewing health insurance salesmen.

ginmokusei is more of a conventional BL but it’s about a guy who inherited his grandpa’s tailor shop and an ex maître d who shows up and demands to help him before he goes bankrupt. there’s a little bit about branding and marketing and bank loans. what has Always Stayed With Me is when the love interest basically goes like ‘you’re using all these flashy ads and being really pushy with discounts. are you selling beef bowls.’ every time I pass a clothes shop that goes really flashy with the discount banners I think ‘are they selling beef bowls…’

panel x magic. okay I said it was going to be weird. so this yuri is about a recent graduate who applies for office jobs and ends up doing image editing for… I guess a brothel? it doesn’t go into critiques of the sex industry, but I thought it was interesting how it takes a really logistical perspective in terms of marketing, advertising, and image manipulation… one of the chapters has the main character going like ‘oh god I’m trying to edit this risqué photo by making the thighs thinner and giving the face a glow-up but I keep making the model look like a weird alien this looks like something from a photo booth’ and gets advice from her coworkers like ‘hey why don’t you look up makeup tutorials to get a sense of what to touch up.’ hasn’t been translated in a while but it kind of hits that… really in-depth look at the logistics of a job.

I think there’s more I’m not remembering at the moment, at one point I think sundry made a joke about rating office romances by how much office work is shown. there’s a couple ones that *kinda* fit but not really… wait. wait wait wait. WAIT. oh my god it has such a h•rny title. okay. so I’m being 100% sincere when I say that the main story for hammered and pounded is a BL with interesting office politics. it’s also incredibly h•rny, but game-ya gets pretty h•rny so whatever. but yeah there’s a whole subplot where the love interest, who works in sales, has actually always wanted to work in R&D, and it becomes A Whole Thing where the head of R&D is in conflict with the head of sales over whether or not a transfer is gonna happen and there’s no romance involved with the conflict it’s all office politics

and in a similar vein, to your right, you will see my boyfriend is about a guy who’s working as a tour guide in kyoto and at the artist talks about how she used to work as a tour guide. I think it’s fun, though I have my qualms. the main character does do studying about how to be an effective tour guide and goes from being like ‘ugh I’m saying all the facts but no one’s listening’ to ‘haha check out this extremely long name of the temple we’re about to see! make sure to remember it, it’ll be the password for getting off the bus ;D’

I have another category of vaguely similar vibes of genre bending mundane office work + fantastical situations

tokusatsu gagaga is a gen series that’s a BIG fave of mine, the main character is an OL who loves tokusatsu so she imagines a lot of scenarios with that sort of vibe. it’s not diagetic, but it’s really fun when it’s stuff like ‘I’M AT KARAOKE WITH MY COWORKERS BUT I CAN’T OUT MYSELF AS A TOKUSATSU OTAKU THIS IS JUST LIKE BEING ATTACKED BY A KARAOKE-THEMED MONSTER EMERJASON HELP ME!!!!’ the eng tl hasn’t been updated in a while but there’s a live action adaption that’s really good

magilumiere co. ltd. is a gen series that’s basically ‘what if magical girls were like… sanitation workers for monsters’ so it’s a lot of company logistics in a fantastical setting. I don’t think I got that far into it before getting distracted, but it was interesting (though perhaps overly generous/idealistic about start-ups as a concept).

#ask #anonymous #gylb #orlbs #there’s also stuff like #perfect propose I really enjoyed for how it really highlights how toxic workplaces manipulate/exploit workers #(consent is an issue for that series tho)#and 24 hour kiss actually has stuff like ‘the manufacturer fucked up our bags what are we going to do’#(consent is a REALLY BIG ISSUE for that series tho)#anyway I’m not sure I’d consider these recs so I won’t put them in my recs tag #my god I spent like an hour on this #Gohan no Otomo ni… kinda…?#recs

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cocklessboy · 2 years

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I’m 37 years old. Two years ago I realized I was transgender and started transitioning. I now fully look and sound like a man, take testosterone HRT, and have had top surgery.

Transitioning has changed my life in loads of ways. Severe depression and anxiety turned out to be dysphoria-induced and mostly went away with the transition. The testosterone makes it easier to build muscle and I’m in much better physical condition. I used to get PMDD (like PMS but so bad it can cause suicidal thoughts, lasting for weeks out of every month) and now my emotions are pretty stable. I’m more confident. In a stressful situation, I have the ability to stand up for myself whereas before I always defaulted to submitting or running away.

But recently, my transition helped me in a very unexpected way. I started noticing that I was really hyperactive. I never used to be. I have a sleep disorder (not diagnosed yet but I have all the symptoms of narcolepsy and will hopefully be tested for it soon) and I’ve always been groggy and tired all the time. But now I don’t just have energy; I’ve become straight-up hyperactive. Cannot sit still. Constantly fidgeting - not just stimming (I’m autistic) but feeling like I have to be constantly moving around or I’ll explode.

At the same time, I was editing a video I’d been working on for ages, one where I’d recorded myself playing a game for a long period of time then was compiling all the footage into a single video with narration. I watched this footage, watched myself, and started realizing I wasn’t just hyperactive. I was constantly distracted. I’d forget what I was doing the moment something shiny caught my eye. I’d start a sentence and never finish it and forget I’d ever been talking.

I started thinking a little more carefully about my life. About how often I make a cup of tea and leave it in the kitchen to brew only to forget about it until I go into the kitchen hours later to make a cup of tea. About how I have to hold my keys in my hand as I walk out the door otherwise I know I might forget them. About how I always have to have important things in my line of sight or they’ll fall out of my brain. About how I have to set three reminders for every important event and still live in constant anxiety that I will forget, because I often do. About how I have two monitors on my computer and I always have to have several things going on at once. I can’t just watch a video, I have to play a game, too. I can’t just scroll tumblr, I have to be listening to music. I always have a ton of tabs open on my browser (which is Firefox! get Firefox if you don’t have it! it’ll change your life!) with YouTube videos which are paused partway through. I have a mountain of unfinished projects because the moment the inspiration wears off I get a new idea and start a new project instead.

Add in the hyperactivity, and... Well, I managed to get a referral from my GP for ADHD evaluation. I managed to find an English-speaking psychiatrist (I’m an American living in central Europe) who takes insurance and specializes in ADHD. After three sessions where he asked me many questions about my life and my childhood, he said he was quite sure I have “some level of” ADHD, and I could start trying medication, and then we’d start working on lifestyle changes (schedules, exercise) to make the medication as effective as possible.

When I first met him I explained that I’m transgender. My name has not been legally changed yet but I asked him to call me by my real name and he had no issue with it. Totally unfazed by the whole thing (although the receptionist was always annoyed by me and insisted on listing everything under my deadname to match my insurance - not out of transphobia, but out of bureaucratic nitpickiness). Now and then during our conversations when I was talking about my childhood he would say OH! RIGHT! I keep picturing you as a little boy. You were a little girl. I have to keep reminding myself (because the symptoms are different - I wasn’t hyperactive as a child, I was quiet, and I did well in school, which is not how most boys present). It was extremely validating that this guy not only accepted me as male, but straight-up kept forgetting that I was even trans.

So the first medication we tried was atomoxetine. This is an SNRI which was developed as an antidepressant, but only turned out to help people with ADHD. I’d had manic/psychotic reactions to antidepressants of all classes before, so we started me at a low dose, and unfortunately I started getting paranoid and hallucinating, so I stopped it immediately.

The only other ADHD medication available in this country is Ritalin (no, we don’t even have Adderall here!). It is not covered by insurance for adults because of a deeply-rooted belief in the wildly-outdated mental health care system here that ADHD is something only children have and that they should grow out of it as adults, but it’s not prohibitively expensive (a month’s supply at my current dose is about $12/£10; I’ll probably need to bump up the dose at least a little bit but it shouldn’t become unaffordable).

This medication? Is fucking magic. I’m convinced it was made by a wizard, or perhaps some kind of divine entity.

I do get some side effects. It makes me desperately thirsty and if I don’t drink a shitton of water, I get dehydrated. It kills my appetite (but it only lasts 4-6 hours and my second dose of the day wears off by evening, at which point I get very hungry and eat loads, so I’m not worried about that). It makes me slightly shaky sometimes, but that seems to be going away as my body gets used to it. It also makes me really sleepy for about an hour after I take it, which is not an officially-listed or studied side effect, but there are enough other people online trying to figure out why Ritalin makes them sleepy that I know it’s not just me. (One theory is that if you’re really sleep-deprived, as I am, but have ADHD, the sleepiness signals might not be getting through because your brain is all out of whack, and the Ritalin fixes the receptors so you finally become aware of how exhausted you are and get sleepy for a while; I’ve seen suggestions that a higher dose might fix this.)

On the other hand, I have now experienced actual happiness for the first time in my life.

I always knew I was struggling. I knew things were hard. Over time I became aware that they were not this hard for other people. But I had nothing to compare to. I didn’t know how other people felt. The world would tell me: that thing you’re struggling with is easy. Just do it. The only possible reason you haven’t done it is that you are lazy, or you don’t want to, or you’re not trying at all. Normal people did not seem to be able to comprehend how basic life tasks like making food or showering or vacuuming or writing an email could be so difficult they felt impossible.

And now I understand why. With the Ritalin, those things are easy. So easy I don’t even have to think about them. If I’d spent my whole life like this, I might not be able to understand how it could be difficult either.

With the Ritalin, when I see something I need or want to do, I can just do it. Immediately. I make the decision to do it, and then I do it. (If that sounds like a simple and obvious thing to you, congrats! You probably don’t have ADHD or any other form of executive dysfunction. If it sounds like a miracle, you might want to get yourself evaluated if you haven’t.)

With the Ritalin, a task that once involved hours or days of frustrated struggle trying and failing to get my body to move, to get myself to start Doing The Thing, wanting to do it, straining to do it, feeling guilty for not doing it, hating myself for being such a failure, might take... five minutes. Oh, right, I need to take out the rubbish. I stand up. I grab the bag. I carry it down to the building’s containers. I come back up and put a new bag in the bin. Done.

Yesterday, I placed a grocery order in the morning, then I did all of my work due for the next two days (something which on its own would normally take me 4-6 hours). Then the grocery order arrived. I put everything away, tidied up the kitchen, and chopped some vegetables to roast in the oven with some chicken (I never used to buy meat because it was too complicated to cook, or I wouldn’t be able to cook that day, and the meat would spoil before I could eat it). While it cooked, I chopped up a whole cabbage and made sauerkraut, then made three more batches of lacto-fermenting vegetables and set them all to ferment on a shelf. Then I cleaned up the kitchen. Then I ate my chicken dinner, washed up afterwards, got some exercise, showered, and had several hours left to relax and play video games before heading to bed.

In the past, getting all that done might take a week, or longer. The vegetables would have spoiled before I could start them pickling. The chicken would have been wasted. The kitchen would remain a mess. My work would get done only at the last second. I was always running out of time while also never getting anything done.

But another thing the Ritalin has made apparent is just how much I’ve been trying to do. Even with this magical medication, there is always more to do than I have time to get done. There’s so much more cleaning that needs doing. I have so many projects to work on. I have so many errands to run, so much paperwork to do, so many appointments. And until recently, I always managed to get done the most necessary things, the ones without which I wouldn’t be able to survive. I always managed to get my work done, eventually, at the last second. I managed to keep my appointments. I managed to submit my taxes (on the last possible day). But I poured so much effort and energy into it, wasted so much time struggling with it, suffered so much from the anxiety of “what if I don’t manage”, that I was miserable and exhausted all the time. It felt like the stress was slowly killing me, and it may well have been.

Now I know that I can get it all done. Eventually I’ll catch up on the housework and be able to just maintain my flat instead of constantly battling the ever-increasing mess and clutter. It’s easier to get exercise now, which makes it easier to sleep, and it’s easier to get up in the morning. I don’t waste hours lying in bed anymore. Slowly, gradually, I’m chipping away at things I’ve been putting off for years, and making progress on projects I might otherwise have abandoned.

And I’m happy. I feel happy. The pressure has lifted. The anxiety has calmed. I can do it now. The brain gremlins have gorged themselves on stimulants and passed out, and they won’t bother me again for 4-6 hours.

And all of this, all of this, is only possible because I finally realized I was transgender and transitioned. Because after 35 years of being miserable and not knowing why, I finally saw a little bit of representation that I identified with that led me to finally understanding who I am. Because I live in a country where it’s not difficult to physically transition (changing your legal gender is another question but since I’m not a citizen here that, fortunately, does not apply to me). From the day I realized I was trans and wanted to change my body, to the day I got a referral from my GP, to the day I was officially diagnosed and given permission to start HRT, was only a matter of about three months (and it would have been less if one of the doctors hadn’t been away for a few weeks).

Transitioning was the best thing that ever happened to me in so many ways. So many more ways than I ever imagined. I knew I’d be happier with my body and voice. I didn’t know my depression and anxiety would mostly disappear. I didn’t know my sex drive would change and sexual activity would become tremendously more pleasurable. I didn’t know I’d be more confident and assertive when I needed to be. And I certainly didn’t know it would help me realize I had ADHD and get proper treatment, leading to an incredibly dramatic increase in my quality of life and ability to look after myself.

I have more to say about all this, but I’ll save it for other posts. For now: trans rights, fuck terfs, fuck transphobes, trans rights, queer rights, trans rights, and praise the sun for Ritalin.

#transgender #actually adhd #transmasc #queer #lgbtqia+#ritalin #neurodivergence #actually autistic #long post #trans rights #fuck terfs #fuck transphobes

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