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#please do enjoy my terrible edit
sewer-ninja · 1 year
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exactly what it says on the tin
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jonnywaistcoat · 2 months
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Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.
To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.
On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.
But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.
At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.
As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.
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chaoticbardlady99 · 4 months
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Pinkie Promise? (Astarion x F! reader) MDNI 18+
Author note- this is specifically for @spitfireunhinged who wrote a beautiful little post with a concept that I adored. I hope I did it justice and you enjoy!
CW- NSFW, mentions of SA
Synopsis- You tell Astarion that you don’t think sex is as good as people say it is. Astarion is determined to prove you wrong.
*not my pic. Please let me know if it is yours so I can give credit
I rewrote this like 7 times. This draft is lightly edited, but I couldn’t wait to post it!
Part 2: I Triple Dog Dare You
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Astarion had heard the phrase “pinky promise” before. It was usually between Leon and Victoria before Leon left for a hunt. She always made Leon pinkie promise that he would come home and Leon always swore it- his pinkie hooked with hers.
The whole thing made Astarion vomit, but he thought it was just a “them” thing since he had never heard it before.
Then you used it on him and he had hurt your feelings terribly. He had called you a child and then proceeded to mock you.
You had just smiled at him sweetly like you usually do, apologized for invading his space, and for crossing his boundaries.
When Astarion had come by an hour or two later to drop off a book he ‘borrowed’ (it was his book, but he wanted an excuse to talk to you again), he heard you sniffling and asking Karlach if you were a child. You were so upset by his judgment because you like him as a person and thought the two of you were friends. Karlach said that some people just aren’t capable of being nice.
Astarion found you after Karlach went to sleep and pinkie promised to never call you a child again (and that he doesn’t think you are a child).
Suddenly, it was your thing and it slowly became more enduring as time went on. A part of him was envious if Karlach or Gale offered you the gesture first and you would give them one of your breathtaking smiles. He wishes he could initiate it, but it feels far too intimate to him. Asking someone to promise him something? Perish the thought! No one can truly be trusted. Well- maybe you can be trusted.
Astarion doesn’t know when he became so infatuated with you and your existence. Maybe it was that first night at camp when the two of you got to know each other a little bit better. You hadn’t been able to sleep because you were struggling to adjust to the new environment. You asked him lots of questions that he honestly had struggled to answer, but you were actually interested in him- not just his body.
Astarion was beginning to crave your presence and he despised sharing it with anyone else. One time he even went as far as making you pinkie promise you wouldn’t kiss Gale when he had called you over. You had scoffed and said that is ridiculous because “Gale would not kiss you ever, yuck!” , but did it anyway.
Low and behold- Gale did not get his kiss. He’s tried since, but you have rejected his advances. Astarion likes to think it’s because you like him more- want him more.
So maybe that’s why he was quick to drag you away from the Tiefling party after you had made your rounds- not wanting to watch you be with another person a second longer. You let him take your hand and you giggle as he chastises you for taking so long to talk to everyone else.
“How dare my self-proclaimed ‘best friend’ spend so much time not in my presence!” Astarion melodramatically states, “I am hurt, Darling. I thought we had something special.”
You blow air out of your mouth with an eye roll and smile at him.
“Well of course we do,” you say matter of factly, “but I also knew the minute I went to talk to you that I wouldn’t talk to anyone else.
“I’m the fearless leader!” You say with emphasis, “Leader of the Freakshow- welcome one and all to the most traumatized individuals alive!”
Astarion’s chest bursts with laughter, “how very on the nose of you, my Dear.”
“I must keep all of us humble, my Sweet,” you say boldly.
He tsks at you and twirls you around, “I’m afraid you aren’t allowed to steal my lines- that is going to cost you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Certainly.”
“Name your price.”
Astarion pauses- right now doesn’t feel like the moment to go full throttle. He has more work to do.
“I need time to think,” he says lewdly, “there are so many things I could ask for, after all.”
You hum in agreement and smile at him coyly.
Maybe it’s because you are the first person he has actively sought out since he has been released from Cazador’s grasp.
Astarion guides you to a spot in the meadow he had found earlier. Well- actually he had followed Gale to it earlier- Astarion just found an even better spot like 10 yards away.
Gale had stupidly announced to Wyll around the campfire that he was going to ask to spend time with you alone tonight.
There was immediately not a chance in hells that that was going to happen. Gale found a nice spot in the forest- Astarion found a better one. Gale brought a blanket and wine? Pfft, Astarion can do that.
You stop in front of the blanket and wine before you look at him- a nice blush running up your neck.
“Is this for-?” You seem surprised.
Which Astarion finds very interesting considering you are from Noble society- shouldn’t you be used to being courted? Astarion is almost certain you’d have at least a hundred suitors.
“For you?” He smiles charmingly, “well of course, only the best for you, my Dear.”
You duck your head and you blush even harder. Astarion guides you to sit with him. You both drink the wine and talk. You ask him questions about himself and he asks plenty about you.
Astarion isn’t sure when the conversation turns into talking about sex- that had always been the original intention of the conversation.
“Sex can’t possibly be all that great.”
“Pardon?”
You shrug your shoulders and slightly slur the sentence again with emphasis.
“Sex can’t possibly be all that great.”
Astarion is shocked to his core. You flirt back and forth with him as if you’ve bedded at least a couple men.
“You’ve never?”
“No.”
“How?”
You look at him with a puzzled expression. You are staring at him as if he’s grown a second head.
Hypocrite. You’re the one spewing none sense!
“How?” You state incredulously, “you have looked at me right?”
Oh yes and I’ve imagined fucking you until you are screaming my name, but that’s beside the point I suppose.
“I’m nothing much to look at. I’m always the friend- never the girlfriend or the lover or whatever!” You emphasize with your hands, “no one has ever felt that way about me and if they have- they’ve never gone for it so I assume it’s just not that much fun.”
Astarion feels like he’s dying all over again. That was your assumption? Not that you might be horrifically oblivious because he’s only tried to to get in your chance several times. One time he quite literally asked you to come to his bed that night and you showed up with a book.
“Darling,” Astarion’s exasperation obvious, “I’ve been trying to have sex with you for a couple weeks now. Probably even more than that at this point.”
You stare at him with wide, unblinking eyes.
“You,” you stammer, “you want to? With me? No way.”
You laugh nervously, “you are beautiful and intelligent and-“
“No, no way.”
Astarion raises an eyebrow at you and smiles seductively. Your lips part slightly as he pushes you on your back and parts your legs with his knee.
Your arms automatically wrap around his neck- your pupils blown wide with lust. Astarion kisses to the left and right of your lips- grinning when he hears your huff in frustration.
“You sure do keen a lot for someone who doesn’t think sex could possibly be ‘that good’, Darling,” Astarion coos, you tighten your lips in embarrassment.
Astarion rolls his eyes at you and cups your face while putting his thumb in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You hum with pleasure and peer at him through hooded eye lids. Astarion feels his cock strain against his pants
“So, my Dear,” Astarion drawls, “do you want me to fuck you? Would you like to see all the bliss you are missing out on?”
You nod eagerly and Astarion presses his thigh against your growing heat. You whine around his thumb and you run your tongue against his skin.
Fuck.
“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” He asks hotly.
You nod- Astarion can smell your arousal and feel it seeping through both of your pants.
“Pinkie promise?” He says teasingly, pulling his thumb out of your mouth to hold out his pinkie.
You hook your pinkie with his and whisper, “pinkie promise.”
Astarion pulls you in for a mind numbing kiss- caressing your lips with his until you are keeping up with his pace. He feels your arms around his neck pull him in deeper.
Your kiss against his lips is sweet and intoxicating- for a second he completely forgets about the purpose of the evening. Astarion could sit here and just kiss you like this until the sun comes up.
Your breathing hitches and Astarion watches as you desperately try to find release by riding his thigh- your movements erratic and wanting. The sounds you are making fill him with excitement and for the first time in a while- he’s actually eager to be inside someone.
He realizes your moaning has become muffled all of a sudden and he looks up to find you covering your mouth- your cheeks and ears are bright red while you pant with arousal.
Astarion laces his fingers through yours and holds your hands down on either side of your head- your pupils are blown wide from lust. The galloping of your heart is like music to his ears.
“Oh no,” he whispers seductively, “do not keep those delicious moans of yours from me, Darling. You promised to be good, remember?”
“Y-yes,” you say between heavy breaths- this time you are the one to surprise him by closing the space between the two of you with a needy kiss.
Astarion unlaces his fingers from yours as he begins unlacing your trousers- quickly discarding them to reveal your soaked underclothes. He growls involuntarily as the smell of your arousal hits the back of his throat- you smell incredible.
Astarion could leave it at just taking your pants off for now, but Gods does he want to see more and if you are willing to let him, then he is not going to deny himself the pleasure of being able to touch and kiss every inch of your body.
Your shirt is next and you don’t even fight it- helping him get the article of clothing off and helping him discard his shirt as well. Astarion stops and looks down upon your naked form.
“Gods you are exquisite,” Astarion says as he begins to kiss down your naval, “open your legs for me, Darling.”
He leaves tiny love bites as he goes- wanting to make sure everyone knows exactly who you belong to. You are a whimpering mess underneath his touch as he presses his fingers to your clothed clit- teasing you slowly.
“Asta-“
You are cut off by your own sounds of pleasure leaving your throat as he slips your underwear off- slowly pushing one finger into you while playing with your clit using his tongue. A string of curse words leaves your mouth as he begins to pick up the pace with his fingers and basks in the way pleasure looks on your face, how your body is writhing for him, and the tumbling praises for him echo through the clearing.
He rolls your sensitive nub between his teeth and he has to hold your hips down as you keen underneath his touch. Astarion adds a second finger- still meeting some resistance, but you aren’t stopping him, in fact- you are giving him complete access using your tadpole right now (intentionally or not) and he can feel how desperate you are to feel fuller. Then he adds the second fingers and the euphoria that rings through your body goes straight to his groan. Astarion can feel his cock straining against his pants as he brings you over the edge with his fingers and mouth- your sweet pleasure dripping down his chin and his fingers. He languidly cleans his fingers off with his mouth, humming in delight while making eye contact with you.
Your eyes are half lidded and glassy- your mouth is slightly parted open. He leans forward and leaves a chaste kiss on them and begins unlacing his own pants- slipping them off and throwing them to the side- his underwear quickly following.
Astarion lines himself up with your entrance- your orgasm coating the head of his cock and he has to fight the urge to slam into you right away. He lines himself up with your entrance- teasing you. You look more nervous now than lustful and Astarion feels his gaze soften. He hovers over you and caresses the side of your face with his thumb. The last thing he wants is to start with you in the wrong headspace.
"Wrap your legs around my waist."
You obediently comply- your back slightly arching and your pert nipples are touching his chest. You sigh in arousal at the contact.
“This may hurt a little,” he says, “we can stop whenever or however much you need- we can stop completely and try again another time even.
“But do you want me to continue?”
You smile up at him with relief and nod coyly.
“I trust you, but please go slow,” you whisper.
Astarion feels a tightness in his chest when you look up at him. Your eyes are so vulnerable and of all the people you’ve decided to trust you chose him. Astarion is fighting not to dissociate- wanting to give you his full attention.
Astarion slowly begins to push inside you. You cry out and clutch at his shoulders- taking a sharp breath as he slowly sheaths himself inside you. Astarion has to fight the want- no need to go faster- you are so damn tight and Astarion is almost wondering if he should have done more foreplay.
He rocks in and out of you- making sure to check on your facial expressions. There are tears pricking your eyes, but your look of discomfort is becoming more and more euphoric as he keeps rolling his hips into you gently.
“Hells darling,” Astarion manages to moan out through clenched teeth, “you feel so fucking good.”
You whimper at his praise and Astarion lifts you up by the hips so he can get a better angle. He thrusts a minuscule harder this time and the whimper that leaves your mouth is making him feel positively feral.
“Astarion,” you whine, “ple- please I need more.”
You definitely don’t have to tell him twice. Astarion snaps himself up into you at a faster pass- your keening only encouraging him to go faster- both of you moaning and gasping while clawing at each other. For the first time in the last 200 years- Astarion does not want to stop. Despite the feelings that are always there, this may be the only time he’s actually experienced bliss while being with someone.
"Such a good little pup, aren't you?"
You clench around him at his words, you beg him to fuck you harder, and he drops your hips back to the ground before putting his face into the crook of your neck- kissing and praising you as you ride out your high.
“You were such a good girl for me,” he breathes into your air, “thank you.”
Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging his lips to yours. If he needed air, the kiss would have suffocated him from how intense and wanting it was- the air between the both of you feels alive and Astarion barely registers that he’s finishing inside you until he’s collapsed on top of you- his head resting on your chest as it races in time with your breathing.
“That was amazing,” you say breathlessly and Astarion can’t help but laugh.
“I told you so.”
You plafully slap his arm and laugh- the sound filling his body with comfort. He can hear your heart beat begin to slow down and your breathing becomes deeper.
“Thank you Astarion,” you say sleepily, dozing off with your hands teasing his curls, “not just for this- for everything. I feel worth something when I’m with you.”
You yawn and Astarion tries to focus on the sound instead of the twisting guilt in his stomach. He cares for you too and that might be where he fucked up.
Your breathing quickly evens out and he is drowning in the smell of sex and rose water- a scent he heavily associates with you. Astarion stays there with his head on top of your chest- trying to get his bearings together. That was like no other sexual encounter he has experienced before- it was blissful- so why the hell is he about to have the melt down of the century?
“Shit,” you jolt awake, accidentally pushing Astarion off you- your eyes are still glassy “sorry I should probably not just fall asleep here- I’m sure you want to get back to your tent…”
Astarion pulls you back down and against his chest as if it’s exactly where you belong. The idea of you leaving right now makes his soul twist painfully. No, he needs you to stay. Existing is easier with you around- it has been since he met you on the beach.
“Stay,” he whispers, “please.”
There is a pause and he worries he may have overstepped his bounds. You look up at him with sleepy, kind eyes. If peace were to have a face- it would be yours.
“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” You smile at him sweetly.
The word leaves his mouth before he can stop himself, “pinkie promise?”
You give him the biggest, toothiest grin he has ever seen. Astarion is certain you may be the single most beautiful person he’s ever met.
You take his pinky in yours and then place a soft kiss against his cold lips.
As you pull away, you whisper against his mouth, “I pinky promise.”
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hauntedrain · 1 month
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I Want To Be Home | Charles Leclerc x Fem! Reader |
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Summary: Charles gets worried about leaving for the first race of the season, believing he's a bad father and husband for doing so. which leads to a late-night conversation.
✮▹A/N: This is pretty short but it was something I just randomly thought about so I felt the need to write it down, that being said I'm sorry if it's bad or anything.
✰▹Warnings/Notices: Use of Milo as kid name, slight angst? if you squint. Comfort/fluff. Worried Charles. NOT EDITED.
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Charles never liked leaving for races ever since he had his kid. He hated it. He didn't want to leave you guys, especially considering anything could happen while he's gone. But what he feared the most about leaving home was missing something fundamental in his kids' life or yours.
He felt like if he missed anything he would be the worse father in the world. This is why when the F1 season came back around after winter break you had to remind him that there's nothing wrong in doing his job and something he's passionate about. This is where this late-night talk formed,
"Ma chérie, what if you get hurt or Milo gets hurt? I can't come back and be here for you." He said while turning completely over to fully look at you.
"Like I said, your family will be here to help if needed, and it's your job char. The team needs you." You said as you pulled yourself closer to him as to get more comfortable with him.
It was pretty late as you already put Milo to bed and got everything sorted for tomorrow, but Charles, he didn't want tomorrow to come as he didn't want to get ready to leave for the first race of the season.
"I get that the team needs me but my family needs me more. Milo is still so tiny, love. I wanna be with him, especially right now."
"Charles, I promise you It'll be okay." You said while messing with his hair a bit as he lowered his head to lay on your chest.
"I feel like a terrible person for leaving like it's a crime. Not only leaving Milo but also leaving you. Like a bad father and husband."
"You're not a bad person and definitely not a bad father or husband. It's okay, if anything we'll come see you at a race as soon as possible. Also, it's not like you don't usually come home between races when possible." you said while running your hands through his hair, he moved a little closer to you before putting his face between your neck and shoulder.
"Ma chérie, Please promise me that you'll call me whenever you need me, or if it's anything with Milo. Please?" He said as he moved to lean a bit more over you. "Please?" he moved back to look you fully in the eyes as he waited for you to respond.
"Of course Char, Always," you said while giving him a peck on the cheek. "But for right now you should probably go to sleep."
From the little light in the room, you could see him smile a bit before he gave you a kiss and laid back down. "Come here, let me hold you."
"You don't have to ask twice."
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⭒❃.✮:▹A/N: This is super short and potentially not the best, but like I said it was something that randomly came to me. But nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it and that you like it. Love you pookies.
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ohthewh0rror · 5 months
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ETERNALLY YOURS.
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˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — The follow up to ‘I’ve Dug Two Graves For Us, My Dear.’ Now that your marriage has been irreparably damaged, where do the two of you go from here?
Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader
Word count: 2k
A/N: I changed my mind after writing a completely different ending. At first I wanted to make it angst-filled and unhappy but I keep writing sad stuff, and you guys deserve a break. Thank you to my best friend Madie for proof-reading/editing this once again and to @brooklynscherry-z for helping me get a better understanding of Tom & Mattheo’s lore. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this (much shorter) continuation to ‘I’ve Dug Two Graves For Us, My Dear”!
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“A letter arrived for you this morning, Y/N,” came the soft voice of your great aunt Delia, her wrinkled hand holding the letter out for you. For a second you were confused, unsure of who would have sent you a letter, especially at such an early hour, until it dawned on you.
Your husband.
A pang of hurt hit your heart at the thought of him. It had been two months since you had seen or spoken to him and though you hated him, another, smaller, part of you missed him terribly. He had been your first love and dearest friend, and his infidelity wasn’t enough to completely erase the love you’ve held for him since the two of you were only seventeen.
As you held the letter in your hands you contemplated not opening it, to instead toss it in the trash and forget it ever arrived. You eyed the entrance to the kitchens, the trash was right through that door, you could throw it away and leave the contents of the letter a mystery. But, as you turned the letter over in your hands, you felt curiosity eating at the back of your mind, beckoning you to open the letter and dissect its contents.
‘Well…it couldn’t hurt,’ you thought, gently unfolding the parchment. As your eyes skimmed over the opening of the letter, you soon realized this was not a letter you should read in the company of others. Folding the letter back up, you looked at your aunt, asking “may I be excused?”
Her eyes darted between the parchment and your eyes, and she looked as if she wanted to ask you something but she waved you off instead, wordlessly telling you that you may take your leave.
You gave her a nod of gratitude before heading to the room you were staying in, trying your hardest to seem normal. Once you entered your room, you made sure to lock the doors and cast a silencing charm for good measure. You did not want your aunt to hear you in the event that you became upset.
Sitting at the desk in the corner of your room, you unfolded the letter and began to read it once again.
Dear Y/N,
I hope this letter finds you well. It has been two months since I have seen or spoken to you, and I must admit that I miss you more than I thought myself capable of. I understand that what I did was unforgivable in your eyes, but I hope by telling you everything it will help you process what is going on so we may move forward from this.
A year ago I approached Bellatrix with the proposition of conceiving and carrying my heir. I explained I did this out of a need to produce an heir and you had not been able to get pregnant yourself. Once she had the child, the child would be ours to raise, she was merely going to be a surrogate of sorts; she understood and agreed to the terms and from there we began the affair.
She finally fell pregnant 6 months ago with a boy. While I should've told you about my plans before approaching her, I most definitely should have told you once she was with child. I am sincerely sorry that you found out the way you did. I wish I could have told you myself, under better circumstances.
Please consider coming back home so that we may be a proper family.
Eternally yours, Tom
You felt a few tears slip out and drip from your eyes onto the parchment, smearing the ink that stained the page with its terrible words. Oh how you wish he hadn’t written to you. His answers did not bring any form of acceptance of his actions, only further heartbreak. It was hard for you to comprehend how he could have sex with her and then return home to you as if all was normal.
“Reducio,” you muttered, shrinking the letter. You carefully folded it, being sure not to rip it, before you got out of your seat and made your way to your closet. On the top shelf, in the furthest corner, sat an intricately carved wooden box with flowers lining the top and sides. The initials M.R sat right above the lock. You conjured a small stepping stool, but even with the stool you were still unable to reach it, leaving yourself to blindly swipe your hand across the shelf till you finally felt your fingers bump the edge.
With what you were looking for finally in your grasp, you got off the stool and went back to your desk. You sat down again, reaching towards one of the desk drawers, and pulling it open to retrieve the small key for the box. As soon as the lock clicked, you opened the top, revealing an empty interior.
The box was made to hold important milestone objects and keepsakes for your son. You planned to fill it with your own letters and pictures so that you could look back on it when he is older and no longer needs you, to remind yourself of simpler times. You hadn’t planned on putting anything related to Tom in there. The thought of him was far too painful, and you didn’t want to taint the little bits of happiness within.
Taking the shrunken letter you placed it in the box before sliding off your wedding ring and putting it on top of the letter. As you closed the box once again, you felt as if you were also closing the metaphorical lid on your marriage. You wouldn’t grace Tom with your presence, a simple letter would have to suffice as you decided you were going to effectively cut him out of your life.
Dear Tom,
I will keep this letter simple and to the point. I appreciate your honesty and your willingness to take some form of accountability for your actions, as I know it’s not something that comes easy to you. But, I will not be returning home nor will we be playing at being a happy family. If you want to be a family as badly as you say, then leave our marriage intact but let us live separate lives. Don’t worry, I do not plan to date or remarry, for you are my first and final love.
That all being said, do not contact me again unless it is with divorce proceedings.
P.s. congratulations on the heir you always wanted.
Sincerely, Y/N
Putting your quill down, you read over the letter one more time to be sure this was what you wanted your final words to him to be. Satisfied with what you wrote, you got out of your chair once again and left the room, heading towards the back garden where you knew the owl belonging to your aunt would be.
Walking into the small building that housed her owl you saw the bird, Chipp, still here and not away delivering mail for your aunt. You gave Chipp a few treats as a thank you for going out in the cold for delivering this letter for you before holding the letter out for the owl to take. Chipp happily took the parchment and flew off to take the letter to its recipient.
That was the last time you spoke to Tom. As the months turned to years, Tom became a distant, painful memory.
11 years later
“Mattheo! Wait up!” You called out to your son, as he excitedly ran ahead of you. You were winded trying to keep up with him, trying hard not to lose him in the crowd of teary-eyed mothers and nervous children. When you finally caught up to him, you grabbed him by the shoulder, halting him. “I understand you’re excited, but will you try not to run off,” you were panting slightly, “I would at least like to tell you goodbye.”
Mattheo looked exasperated, trying already to seem too cool to tell his mother bye. “But mum—” he started, trying to justify his running off. “No buts; now, let me see you,” you said, motioning him to turn around. He groaned, turning around to face you. You held him by his arms in front of you, “listen, and actually listen to me for once; listen to your professors and don’t cause trouble, I know how—” you paused mid sentence when something out of the corner of your eye caught your attention.
It was your husband.
Your husband, who you hadn’t seen in 11 years, with a young boy standing beside him. The two of you locked eyes and you felt a wave of discomfort hit you. How could you have been so stupid? Of course he would be here, his son and Mattheo are close in age, they’d obviously go to school together.
You decided to skip the speech and quickly walk further up the platform, trying to put more room between you and Tom. You didn’t want Tom to approach you and attempt to talk to you or your son. Mattheo didn’t need to go through such a confusing altercation on such an important day. This day was only about him and you wanted it to be special.
Once you put a satisfying amount of room between the two of you, you stopped and your son decided to ask why that man was staring at you. Waving him off, you explained, “he’s just someone I used to know, that’s all.” Mattheo looked like he had more questions, but you didn’t give him the chance to ask them. Instead, you gave him a parting kiss on the forehead and told him goodbye before all but pushing him onto the train.
You backed away and watched Mattheo walk further into the train before he finally disappeared from sight. You felt your eyes well up with tears at the reality of your son leaving for Hogwarts, giving you definitive proof of how old he was getting. It made you wish you possessed a time turner, just so you could go back to the beginning and do it all over again.
As you shuffled back toward the exit, you were lost in thought over how Mattheo would do at Hogwarts. What house would he be in? Would he make friends? How would he do academically? You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed someone closing in on you until it was too late.
You felt a hand wrap around your bicep and pull you back slightly causing you to stumble into their chest. You whipped around, about to give the owner of the offending hand a piece of your mind when you saw who was touching you.
Tom looked at you, and though his face remained neutral, you swear you saw a glint of hurt in his eyes. He released your arm only to place a hand on the small of your back, “walk with me, Y/N?”
You hesitated for a second before giving him a small nod and walking with him back towards the entrance to platform 9 ¾. There was a moment of tense, awkward silence before he spoke.
“What is his name?” Tom asked. You thought about whether you wanted to tell him or not, as you knew where this conversation was headed.
“Mattheo,” was all you said. Not giving away his full name, as you weren’t ready to admit you’d given him Tom’s last name.
Tom went silent again and you looked up to see him deep in thought. Not wanting to make the situation any more uncomfortable by just staring at him, you looked away, waiting for him to speak once again. Though, once he spoke, you wish he had kept the awkward silence between you two.
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
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Taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @mypolicemanharryyy @jessysfangirlworld @homan-oid @motherofdragons1998 @theeslutintheroom @pasta01 @lovefks @mwahbella @storminacloud @brooklynscherry-z @eri-s-big-sis @eversei @tomhollandisabae @rlblackbarbie @cyphah @cookielovesbook-akie
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beeksyurr · 10 days
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Husband Nanami x afab! reader drabble
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hope u guys enjoy, I wrote this in a rush (whoopsie daisy) but whatevs, HAVE FUN READINGG >:))
warnings: afab! reader, p in v, swearing, dirty talk, degration kink, doggystyle, mating press
not edited!!
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Nanami kento is not the type of man to lie. Which is why, when he texted you about how he’d fuck you like the little slut you were after sending him such lewd pictures during his meeting, he mean it.
He left work early, using some excuse about “feeling terribly sick”, to which his boss let him so immediately. Kento was one of his more devoted employees anyway, so he deserved the rest.
&, technically, he wasn’t lying. He did feel terribly sick, about the fact that he wasn’t at home, to fuck the shamelessness out of his beloved lover.
⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺
Your body jolted forward at every merciless thrust, pink tongue sticking out shamelessly. He had an iron grip on your waist with one hand, the other in your hair. Nanami had your face squished down with your cheek against the surface of your gentle mattress, which was a stark contrast to your husband’s demeanour.
“I didn’t want to do this, my love. But when you- fuck- when you spend your day acting like a complete brat?”
Kento’s hand shifted downward to your neck, & he pulled you up against his bare chest.
“You tell me, darling, what else am I supposed to do?”
Biting your lip, a desperate moan escaped the plush confines of your lips. Your cunt clenched around Nanami’s cock, to which he threw his head back & groaned.
“N-nami’ please, m’sorry-”
The man thrusting in & out of you started shushing you quietly, thumb rubbing lightly across the velvety skin of your neck. You knew what he was doing, acting out a small gesture like this to remind you of his presence, that everything was okay. Your husband was still there.
However, soon after, his thumb dropped- & his thrusts picked up speed. To an ungodly one, too.
“Well, if you hate this so much, just remember to behave yourself, hm? Don’t be such a whore.”
Your cunt clenched at his words, gummy walls huggin his thick member tighter than before. Your beautiful husband granted at this, screwing his eyes shut before continuing.
“But don’t worry, my love- I like it when you do things like that.”
Kento suddenly pulled out, flipping you around into a deep, filthy mating press. You blinked repeatedly, trying to process the sudden change before the man thrusted his girthy dick back inside of you. Once, & again. & another thrust. Soon enough, he was fucking in & out of you again, hitting every right spot, repeatedly.
With your eyes watering & nails clawing at Nanami’s solid back, you were screaming with pleasure. Warm tears were streaming down the sides of your flushed face, & your eyes were screwed shut.
It wasn’t long before your dear husband leaned in, lightly biting the flesh of your ear before whispering something softly.
“I enjoy ruining your cunt like this, the way a whore deserves, Sweetheart”
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I don’t think it’s one of my better ones, but that’s alr, tysm for reading!! mwah! <33
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navybrat817 · 6 months
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Jump Scare
Pairing: Motocross!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You get quite the jump scare during a movie night with Bucky. Word Count: Over 2.8k Warnings: Implied sex, scary movie (violence), jump scare, prank, scary vibes, slight feels, established relationship, swearing, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fic #9 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! A bit further down the line for Hothead and Spitfire. @tavners, @maskedmistress87, @drabblewithfrannybarnes, this did NOT go the way I wanted it to, but that's okay!❤️ Edit: Also submitting for @witchywithwhiskey's Horror Movie Hoe-A-Thon with "What's your favorite scary movie?". Not beta read and written on my phone​, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The sound of the basement door creaking open permeated the air in the otherwise silent house, fear paralyzing the soon-to-be victim who hid under the staircase. Terror mounted with each heavy footstep, as if they were a countdown to her impending doom. The masked assailant surveyed the dark space with his sharp knife in hand, still stained with the blood of the girl’s boyfriend who tried and failed to protect her. She covered her mouth as the killer got closer, her nostrils flaring as she desperately tried to keep from making any sounds. Maybe there was a chance he wouldn’t find her.
Her prayers were seemingly answered as the killer began to walk back up the steps, daring her to crawl out from her hiding space once she thought it was safe.
The bloodcurdling scream she let out as the knife plunged into her chest a heartbeat later was the last sound she ever made.
You stifled a yawn as you stared at the television, red light from the screen illuminating the darkened room as the killer stabbed his victim over and over again. “Why do people in horror films immediately pop their heads out when they think the killer’s gone? Do they just think they gave up? Or that they outsmarted them somehow?”
Bucky chuckled as he threw an arm over your shoulder. “I think that’s one of the rules of those films.”
“Which part? Running into a terrible spot where the killer is inevitably going to find you or thinking the coast is clear when it isn’t?”
“Both,” he replied.
You huffed and grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl in Bucky’s lap. You had to hand it to him. When he asked you over for a movie night, you figured it was an excuse to get in your pants. So when he invited you in and took you to the living room instead of the bedroom, it both surprised and disappointed you. It wasn’t that you wanted sex to be the main thing between you two. You enjoyed talking to him.
But, fuck, was he amazing in bed and you were only human.
Your new boyfriend, which was both exciting and nerve-wracking that it was official, had set up a few blankets and pillows on the couch so you’d be comfortable while watching the films. He shut off the lights to create, in his words, a spooky ambience. There was no reason not to indulge him. He even had a couple of your favorite snacks nearby so you wouldn’t have to get up and go to the kitchen.
Who said motocross riders couldn’t be a little bit romantic?
Bucky took your hand after you finished your helping of popcorn and slowly licked the salt and butter off one of your fingers. The cheeky little shit smirked when you sharply inhaled. “What’s your favorite scary movie?”
“You’re really asking me that right now?”
“Just curious,” he said, gently licking your middle finger when you held it up in his face. It was difficult not to feel aroused with his amazing tongue lavishing you with attention. “Are you giving me the middle finger to insult me or is that a promise?”
“It’s both. Fuck you and fuck you, Hothead,” you said, gasping when he lightly nibbled the tip.
“That can be arranged,” he smirked.
He isn’t romantic. He’s horny just like me.
“See? I knew there was a reason other than movies for having the blankets out here,” you smiled. You knew deep down he wanted you to stay the night. The man was a cuddler. “As much as I joke about some of the cliches, I like a lot of scary movies. The jump scares are always fun, especially when you don’t see them coming.”
“Name one movie,” he said, finally allowing you to take your hand back as he shifted to face you more. Neither of you were paying attention to the movie on the screen now. “Just one.”
“Okay,” you said after a moment, one recent film you watched popping up in your mind. “I like ‘Ready or Not’.”
His brows pinched a bit. “That’s the film about the bride getting hunted down by the groom’s Satan worshiping family, right? Why that one?”
You lifted your chin and looked back at the screen momentarily. “Grace was kind and caring, but also determined and resourceful. She was a survivor and I found it easy to root for her,” you replied, avoiding Bucky’s gaze when your voice softened. “At the root of her character, she just wanted to be part of a family.”
It was one of the reasons you moved to town. There was nothing for you back home. Friends didn’t stick around, some wrote you off because of your outspoken attitude, and things went south with Frank. Bucky was aware of all of that. It almost sounded like you ran away, but you didn’t see it that way. You made a choice to change your path for the better.
And thanks to Natasha, you not only met Bucky, but made other friends as well.
A soft kiss to your temple made you jump a bit. “You see yourself in Grace, don’t you, Spitfire?”
You swallowed, not wanting to get emotional. It was almost unnerving how Bucky could take down the bricks of the inner wall you sometimes built up. “I guess I do,” you whispered, clearing your throat. “But if you marry me one day and you try to sacrifice me so you can keep winning races or whatever, I will haunt your ass forever.”
Bucky’s nose scrunched as he laughed, bringing a smile to your face. “Listen, we both know if I’d try to sacrifice you that you’d knock my ass in the dirt,” he joked. You were glad he went along with the humor you shifted to instead of delving into a deep discussion. You could save that for another day. “And I wouldn’t do that anyway because I’d fight beside you.”
His declaration spread warmth from your chest as you snuggled close. It meant more to you than he knew. “Keep saying sweet things like that and we won’t make it through the next movie.”
“I’ll say all the sweet things you want,” he promised, resting his head against yours. “I actually did have an ulterior motive for movie night.”
I knew it.
You narrowed your eyes even though you directed your gaze at the television and not him. “Well, you have to tell me what your motive was.”
“I wanted to watch scary movies with you in the hopes you’d get a little scared and cuddle in my lap,” he admitted, the screams from the speakers not affecting either of you in the slightest. “But I should’ve known you don’t scare that easily since you’re a badass.”
It was so endearing that you couldn’t help but smile. “Being a badass doesn’t mean I don’t get scared. I’ve just seen most of these films. I know what’s going to happen,” you said. You weren’t usually the type to jump out of your skin, especially since they were movies and nowhere close to reality. “Would you like me to pretend I’m afraid? I can do that.”
He sighed and you could easily picture the pout forming on his stupidly handsome face. “It isn’t the same when I know you’re faking it.”
“That’s what she said,” you said, making him snort as you moved the bowl of popcorn from his lap and scooted closer. “And I can easily pretend that you’ll keep me safe from the scary masked killer who isn’t actually here because he’s on television.”
“Now you’re just making fun of me.”
“He’s walking slowly and he’s managing to catch up to the girl running at full speed because of reasons. Wait! She tripped over nothing. He’s going to get her! Oh, no!” you cried before you hid your face in his chest, which rumbled when he began to chuckle. You didn’t lift your head immediately since the whiff of cologne you caught distracted you. He always smelled so good. “See? Easy.”
“That’s not very believable, but thank you for trying,” he teased before the room got quiet. “What the hell?”
“What is it?” you asked, turning to look at the television. The screen was black now, leaving the room darker than before. “What happened to the movie?”
“I don’t know,” he said, glancing behind him. “Maybe something happened with the connection. I’ll be right back.”
“You know you’re never supposed to say that. One of the horror movie rules,” you said, moving back to give him room to stand and checking your phone for messages. The light from your screen gave you a chance to catch a glimpse of his abs through his shirt when he stretched. It tempted you to pull him back down beside you. “But I’ll send a search party if you don’t come back in ten minutes.”
“How generous of you,” he said, tilting your chin up as he leaned down. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered against your lips.
You barely brushed your lips back against his in a kiss before he left you alone. “You said it twice. I’m not responsible for anything that happens to you!”
A minute passed by as you mindlessly scrolled through an app. You felt a little bad about your teasing, even if Bucky didn’t say it bothered him. You didn’t scare easily, but you could’ve allowed yourself to be a bit more vulnerable. All he wanted you to do was turn to him. When he got back, you’d do just that.
But a few more minutes passed and he still hadn’t returned.
“Bucky? It hasn’t been ten minutes, but I’ll send the search party,” you said, looking behind you when you didn’t get an answer. You still couldn't see much of anything. “Bucky?”
THUD.
It sounded like Bucky fell to the ground in another room. At least, you thought it was him. “Are you okay?” you called out, using your phone to light a path as you got up and left the room. “Do you need help?” you added, flipping the switch for the hallway light.
Which didn’t turn on.
If this were a horror movie, his body would either fall out of a ceiling somewhere or he’d be the killer.
“Of course,” you mumbled to yourself as you slowly walked down the hall. You were familiar enough with Bucky’s place, but it almost felt empty and cold as you searched for him. The wind picking up outside only made the unsettling feeling grow. Why wasn’t he answering you? “Bucky, come on. We can just watch a movie on my phone.”
BANG.
You jumped when the office door slammed shut, a nervous laugh bubbling up as you took a step toward it. “Well played. You got me to jump,” you said, hesitating as you reached for the doorknob. There was something red smeared on it. No way was that blood. It couldn’t be. “Bucky?”
It’s just a prank, right? He’s fine. He’s perfectly fine.
You pressed your ear against the door to listen for any noises before something slammed against it on the other side, making you jerk back. Your heart admittedly leapt in your throat. You wished Bucky was beside you to hold your hand.
“Okay, Bucky! You win! I’m officially creeped out!” you announced, hoping it would get him to jump out before something hit the door again. “Fine, asshole! Ready or not, here I come!”
The door flew open before you could twist the knob. You held up your phone with a shaky hand and spotted a large figure in the light. He wore what you guessed was a dark robe and a Boogeyman mask, the eyes and mouth completely blacked out. That wasn’t the thing that made your mouth fall open with a scream.
It was the bloody machete in his hand.
Your eyes scanned the darkness for Bucky, worried more about him than yourself. “Run,” the figure whispered, lifting the weapon over his head.
Fight or flight kicked in and you chose to fight, though you didn’t have anything to use as a weapon. “Fucker! What did you do to my boyfriend, you piece of shit?!” you yelled, kicking him as hard as you could in the shin when he got close enough. He hardly budged, but you hobbled back and grabbed your foot as pain shot through it. “Ow, fuck! Are you made out of pure muscle?!”
The Boogeyman dropped the machete immediately. “Shit, are you okay?” he asked in a normal voice as he took out a phone and pressed the screen, the lights in the place coming on a moment later.
You recognized that voice.
Bucky. Fucking. Barnes.
“Bucky,” you said through your teeth when he removed the mask and brushed his long hair from his eyes. “What the actual fuck?!”
“I'm sorry. I was trying to scare you a little, not hurt you,” he said, going to look at your foot. You almost kicked him again. “Is it okay?”
“It’s fan-fucking-tastic, asshole!” you hissed as you hit his right arm with a ringing slap. “Shithead!” you added, smacking his arm again as he laughed. He was laughing at you. “Fucker!”
And to think I felt bad for not acting more scared during the movie.
You tried to get another hit in, but he grabbed your wrist before the blow landed. “Easy, Spitfire. Okay, I deserved a couple of hits. It was a stupid joke.”
“So stupid,” you snapped when the corner of his lip twitched. If he laughed again… “How did you shut everything off?”
“App on my phone for the lights and streaming service. I got ready and hid here until you went to look for me. Though I had to make a loud noise for you to do so,” he said, the humor in his blue eyes almost outweighing his worry. “I really am sorry.”
“And where the hell did you even get this?” you asked, tugging on the robe.
“Remember, all the guys are helping out with that haunted hayride this weekend? We each got scary costumes for it,” he reminded you. All the riders planned to help out, followed by a party once it wrapped up “Are you really okay?”
Your heartbeat returned to a slower pace as you took a breath. There were tons of films where boyfriends pretended to be killers to scare their girlfriends. It was somehow oddly endearing that Bucky did the same thing.
“I’m fine,” you said, even as unshed tears burned your eyes. “But I did think for a moment something may have happened to you. And it isn't like watching you at the tracks when I know there's an element of danger or watching a movie. This was different.”
And that scared me.
“Hey. I'm right here and I’m okay,” he whispered, touching your cheek. “I just wanted to scare you so I could comfort you. I'm sorry.”
Stupidly sweet logic.
“That’s such a guy thing to do,” you said as he gave you an abashed smile. “Okay, I’ll let you comfort me. You’re also going to rub my foot,” you added, which actually felt perfectly fine now, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I’ll give you the best foot massage,” he promised. “You really tried to beat the ‘killer’ up for thinking he did something to me. I’m touched.”
“Well, I didn’t have a weapon, but I’ll aim for the crotch next time,” you teased a little, giggling when he winced. “I guess I’m just as dumb as some of those horror movie victims.”
“You’re not dumb. You’re a badass. And I would’ve done the same thing if I thought someone hurt you,” he smiled, making your heart race for a good reason this time. “And I’m still your boyfriend after this, right?”
You smiled softly, but poked him in the chest for good measure. “Yeah, but I’m not sorry for kicking you in the shin, you can fuck yourself tonight, and I’m telling Nat what you did.”
Because if anyone is scarier than an angry girlfriend, it’s Natasha Romanoff.
“You know, you’re hot when you’re pissed off. Very hot,” he smirked. The vicious glare you gave him didn’t sway him as he gripped the back of your head. “And let’s see if I can convince you to let me fuck you.”
“It’s going to take a lot of convincing.”
You opened your mouth to accept the slide of his tongue against yours and allowed him to press you against the hallway wall. Nat would surely give him a piece of her mind tomorrow for scaring you. Tonight though, you’d let Bucky convince you to snuggle again and sleep with him. Because you had to hand it to him.
He delivered a worthy jump scare.
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Motocross!Bucky was sharing a brain with lumerjack!Steve, wasn't he? Love and thanks for reading! 🧡
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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reobsessed · 7 months
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Forgotten Embrace
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Pairing: Tav X Astarion, Reader X Astarion, tried to make it as gender neutral as possible. Content: Just a short fluffy fic I had milling about in my head. Fluff, comfort, kissing, spooning and absolutely no sex! Less than 1000 words. Summary: Your nights shared with Astarion under the stars had been numerous, but something had changed since he confessed to you in the Shadowlands. The two of you lay restless until finally Astarion approaches you for some comfort in the night.
Hope you guys enjoy! Sorry if it's not the best, just wanted to pump out something short and Astarion related =') Thanks again to Suri for reads and edits and massively helping with the name!
Like embers spat from the flames, fireflies hovered above the campfire. Not a soul stirred, besides the two fidgeting restlessly in their respective bedrolls. They lay in tense silence, unaware yet suspecting the other was still awake. Finally the elven man broke the tension and rose from his bedroll. He tiptoed towards you, much like a mink sizing up its prey. 
You’d been on the cusp of falling asleep when he’d made his move.
“Room for one more?” he inquired coyly, already knowing the answer. With a soft grumble and a resigned sigh you held open the covers. An invitation for him to nestle against you. “Such a generous offer, I would be remiss not to-”
“Astarion, getunderthegodsdamnedcovers,” you snapped in a hushed whisper. Despite doing your best to sound serious, a crack of laughter betrayed your demand.
“And I thought I was supposed to be the one who bites,” he jeered. Another brief pause followed, as he stared at the welcoming spot in front of you. 
Now that you thought about it, this was to be his first time being the ‘little spoon’, a detail that was no doubt apparent to him, as he eyed your bed suspiciously. Thankfully, no further coaxing was needed, as he lay down rigidly beside you.
He was still adjusting to intimacy- or rather the kind that didn’t precede or act as a follow up to sex. The two of you were going steady and he was now free to make his own decisions, but sometimes you felt it necessary to push him in the right direction; this was one of those times. As he shuffled uncomfortably next to you, you draped an arm across his chest, letting it rest over the firmness of his stomach. He froze and you too began to panic. 
Even without looking at his face you could see the animalistic fear that flashed across it. You prepared to back up and pull away from him, when all of a sudden his body went slack and his hand came up to meet yours. A deep sigh escaped your lips and tousled the tips of his hair.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” he began.
You sprang to attention, craning your neck so you could see his face. “What is it?”
“You’re terribly hot, and I do mean that in both senses of the word. I mean honestly, you could rival Karlach with temperatures like these.”
“I think you’ll find I’m a normal temperature, I’m just compensating for the both of us,” you reasoned, pulling yourself in closer to his icy back.
“Oh I wasn’t complaining” That was a first, you thought. “Just making an observation.”
You let your head fall back into his curls. He smelt wonderful, his hair in particular had an unknown, yet alluring aroma. Despite not being able to pinpoint the particular scent, you couldn’t get enough of it. Perhaps one day he would share it with you.
“Careful my sweet, don’t mess up my hair.” You pulled away reluctantly, earning yourself a twisted glare. “Well? I didn’t tell you to stop. Keep going.”
You snickered in disbelief, there really was no pleasing him sometimes. Eagerly you did as you were told and resumed nuzzling his scalp. After about five minutes of this affection, Astarion had turned around and now had his forehead pressed firmly against your chest. Your fingers were still intricately woven into his silver strands. Every now and then one of your fingers would snag on a tiny knot, you were sure he’d scold you for such an action, but shockingly he didn’t seem to mind.
“Astarion?”
“What is it my sweet?” he mumbled against your chest.
“Can I kiss you?” you asked timidly and much like his earlier question you already knew the answer.
Silently he pushed himself onto his elbows and planted his eager mouth onto yours. The fatigued fumbling of lips was imperfect and clumsy, but remained as earnest as those shared in daylight. 
He collapsed again, his face obscured by a mess of hair and buried beneath your clothes. Despite your positions you could feel the smile that curled his mouth upwards, his now exposed teeth pricking at the tender flesh of your bosom.
The numbing ache of your arm became apparent, you tried to move it out from under him, but when you looked down your heart melted. He’d fallen asleep. There’s a first time for everything you thought to yourself, and hopefully this was the start of many more unexpected things to come. 
As you looked out over the campfire, you reflected upon all you’d been through and all that still needed to be done. The fireflies with their lights burning bright wouldn’t live much longer, was that to be your fate too? His hair shining in the light reminded you of them. There’s no way you could let go of him now, not when his extended life had been deprived of joy and any actual ‘living’.
He stirred softly in his sleep, incoherent murmurs mingling with the chirping of insects. A melody of your own was added to the chorus, an almost silent promise that he could have this for as long as he wanted. 
Thoughts and fire began to die down. Lost in the stillness of one another, your mind finally found peace, no more words or actions were needed as the two of you drifted off into tranquil slumber.
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shadowshrike · 16 days
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Interfering with Halsin's Portal
It's pretty well known that there are a few situations you can get in where Halsin is well and truly angry rather than disappointed or worried, but I don't think a lot of folks know one of those situations is if you mess with his portal to the Shadowfell. It's a heartwrenching bit of acting. It's also fundamental to the plot of my in-progress fic Girdled Roots, so I figured I might share it with the other Halsin-lovers out there who have never seen it.
EDIT: Please be aware this is datamined dialog and may not be visible in game. It appears to be intended to trigger if the player attempts to enter the portal, which I don't believe is possible in the final game, or at least I couldn't find a way in the most recent version. Sharing this is simply to enjoy the incredible acting and get some plot bunnies moving, not to make any commentary about the game's canon.
Halsin's Initial Reaction
Halsin: No! Stop! Halsin: It's gone... that was our one chance. You've doomed this place to darkness! Halsin: I warned you - told you this was my burden to carry. Why didn't you listen?
The pure rage and despair is visceral. Prior to this, Halsin mentions this portal has been a century in the making, but he's so calm and measured (even upon success) that it is easy to dismiss just how much agony has plagued him as he hoped to make things right. This chance is everything to him. It has guided his every action for a century. It is a hundred years of work, prayer, and guilt to rectify the horrific fate of both land and people that came to nothing because a stranger he trusted refused to listen to him.
The portal breaking is the only time we hear Halsin speak the truth of its importance to him without a hint of emotional regulation. He is wild with pain. This man who is always thoughtful and slow to anger in the face of horror with the wisdom of age and suffering to guide him has become too overwhelmed to show any kindness.
Player response
The player is given several different ways to respond, and Halsin's reaction varies a surprising amount depending on how understandable their reason is. In most cases, he states that he needs to be alone afterward.
Option 1: I'm sorry - I acted on instinct. Halsin: Words won't repair what's been done to this land. Nothing will... I need to be alone.
You can hear the ache in Halsin's voice, but he's somewhat understanding of this response. He projects more sadness than unchecked rage. The player has admitted to making a mistake, and Halsin isn't the type of person who hold onto vengeance when an apology has been made, but he's not naive or people-pleasing enough to say "it's okay" or offer comfort either. The safest thing for everyone is for him to step away to grieve when there is nothing more to be done.
Option 2: I did all the work here - I couldn't just let you take the glory. Halsin: Glory?! There's no glory here. Now there's nothing here - only shadows and the total absence of hope. Halsin:  There is nothing more to be said... I need to be alone.
Pure fury radiates from Halsin's response if the player focuses on the idea of being some grand hero rather than actually caring for the outcome. What the player did was an unforgiveable act, dooming everything that Halsin holds dear, and you have the audacity to complain about not getting glory from it. Again, he steps away, but this feels more like he's doing it because he believes you're worthless to reason with rather than because he needs a moment.
Option 3: I saved your grove - I figured it'd be best if I handled this as well. Halsin: We were this close to healing these lands. Now your arrogance has torn open the wounds once more. Halsin:  There is nothing more to be said... I need to be alone.
Halsin is still frustrated with this response and unmistakably angry, but it's significantly toned down from the idea of wanting to go through the portal for glory. More like he thinks you're a self-important idiot than a truly terrible person.
Specialized player responses
There are also three special responses you can give if you have a particular class or diety.
Druid: I thought my powers were equal to yours. Halsin: It wasn't just power this needed - it was wisdom, understanding. I suffered along with this place for years trying to understand the curse... and it seems I will continue to do so. Halsin:  There is nothing more to be said... I need to be alone.
Interestingly, he responds much more intensely to a druid than some of the other player choices. It might be in part because he feels like a druid should know better. He lectures the player like an Archdruid would initiates in his Grove, alternating between angry and explanatory, trying to get the player to understand why they were wrong and the sheer magnitude of their error. He ultimately ends in a much more resigned place here rather than personally resentful. Like a father-figure being forced through further life trials because of a child's foolish indiscretion. Frustrating, but inevitable.
Selunite: I trusted in Selûne to guide me through the shadows. Halsin: My friend - I wish you had trusted in me.
This is probably Halsin's most simple response with the least vitriol. He fully understands this answer, even if he's disappointed by it. The fact he calls the player 'friend' suggests a certain tired acceptance of this being a natural behavior for a Selunite trying to do good. We don't see this calm in other responses where Halsin was surprised by the player's choice.
Sharran: The Shadowfell is no place for non-believers - I couldn't allow you to soil it. Halsin: I should never have trusted an ally of the Dark Lady.
If you've ever taken Halsin along with Shadowheart in Act 2, then you know he is absolutely scathing toward her and her faith. He likely isn't as angry if a Sharran breaks the portal because it is utterly predictable. It merely confirms a truth he already knew and talked himself out of. That Sharrans cannot be fully trusted in matters of their goddess, even if one was good enough to rescue his people from the goblins.
224 notes · View notes
thevillainswhore · 9 months
Text
Tension
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Pairing: Massage Therapist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 4.2k
Summary: You’re devastated when your usual massage therapist becomes unavailable at the last minute, but an unexpected trainee is more than happy to handle you.
Warnings: Smut (fing-ering fem receiving, mentions of a-nal play, m-asturbation male receiving)
A/N: Unbeta’d, dividers by saradika and firefly-graphics - also a massive thank you to my babe @rookthorne for helping me edit my header, loves you bitch 💗
Listen, just please use your imaginations with the oil, let’s pretend it’s safe and can be used for… things 👀 okay thank you, enjoy x
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Resting your head against the back of the waiting room leather chair, you await your appointment at your regular spa. Headache already starting to disappear from the eucalyptus aroma of incense seaping into your skin.
You needed this. The long work week draining you of all common sense to not hit your coworkers over their heads every two seconds, due to their incompetence. Now, it has finally come to a close, and you could take the opportunity to indulge in your guilty pleasure.
This was the only way you could continue to keep your head above water. A monthly treat to yourself of a two hour long full body massage - undisturbed peace and soft hands kneading the stress out of your body until it felt like you were floating.
And it was literally heaven on earth to let go of the strong willed nature that came with your work, placing your care into the hands of someone else. Giving up your responsibilities of taking charge and allowing another to take care of you for a little while.
It felt so good to let go. Forgetting all of your worries that seemed silly in the midst of the background waterfall noises that lulled you into calmness.
Jesus, you weren’t even on the massage table yet and you already felt so much lighter.
With that thought, the lovely receptionist, you’ve become familiar with from your numerous visits, walks out from the back room and addresses you with an apologetic expression.
“Miss, I’m so terribly sorry about this, but an unexpected personal emergency has come up for your regular therapist and she’s had to leave before your treatment today.”
Your face drops. The excited anticipation bubbling inside you from at last being able to relax, dying out instantly at her words.
Of course it wasn’t your therapist’s fault that you would miss out on the only pass time that gets you through the month. Of course, it wasn’t her fault you’d probably go home and scream into your pillow. Yet, you couldn’t help your internal frustration at the disappointing outcome.
It didn’t help that you hadn't had an orgasm for god knows how long too. The band inside was you on the verge of snapping. A massage being the only way to soothe the built up tension over the month and you feared you would have a mental breakdown from the added stress.
“Listen, I wouldn’t normally suggest this,” she goes on to explain as you lift your head with intrigue, “but we have a new massage therapist in training, free for your time slot. His clientele base is still quite small. However, he’s received great reviews and he’s happy to cover your treatment today - if that’s something you would consider. Would you like to meet him before coming to a decision?”
Fuck it. It’s either this or try to relieve yourself with your shitty vibrator at home that’ll probably die out before you can finish anyway. And you really didn’t want to make the dent in your bedroom wall any bigger from the other times you’d thrown the useless thing at it.
So, what harm could it do?
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After agreeing to an introduction with the trainee, telling yourself you should at least see if you feel comfortable enough with him, you stand outside the private massage room, waiting to be invited in.
Eventually hearing a breathy shout of “Come in!”, the receptionist opens the door and allows you to step through, the seemingly young man’s back turned towards you as he fiddles with last minute preparations for your massage.
“Just tryna get everythin’ ready for ya, won’ be a minute.”
After finishing up and a final appraisal to the set up, the trainee spins on his fit, claps his hands together and looks at you directly, “Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’! The name's James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky, sweetheart, I’ll be lookin’ after’ya today.”
Holy shit, where the hell did they find this one?
Bucky’s mid length chocolate hair ran rogue with an errand piece falling into his eyes. It took all of your strength to not reach out and tuck it behind his ear, or maybe even scratch your nails through his hair just to grip it and tug to see if he whimpers.
Woah, settle down girl.
A tight white womens beater, stretched across his pecs, showcased his bulging arms and the pure muscle you couldn’t tear your eyes from. You were pretty sure you were drooling, but you couldn’t give a single fuck right now.
If you had to guess, you would have pinned him as a farmhand or a ranch owner from down south before he became a trainee massage therapist - it definitely would have explained his devilishly built form and his southern twang that has your knees weak.
That’s not the only reason I want my legs to be shaking.
It most definitely isn’t difficult to imagine Bucky with a cowboy hat sitting on his head, thick thighs clenching to keep himself steady riding a horse. Or how easy it is to picture him throwing stacks of hay over his shoulders, dirt covering his sweat glistened body as his pure strength gives him no trouble carrying them to the stables.
You don't even realise you still haven’t spoken a word, stood dumbstruck with your mouth gaping open and lost in your unholy thoughts about the living wet dream about to rub you up, completely forgetting another person was in the room with you.
The receptionist speaks up, “Are you comfortable with James stepping in-“
“Yes!”. Your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment from how quickly you answered, clearing your throat and steeling yourself not to continue making an idiot of yourself. “Um- yes of course, yes… not a problem at all.”
You miss Bucky’s sly little smirk as you make the effort to keep your gaze towards the floor, his tongue peaking out and wetting his lips as he gives you a once over.
Things were about to get interesting.
“So sweetheart, I’m gonna step out while you get changed, take all clothin’ off, start off with lyin’ on’ya stomach for me and cover y’lower half with a towel - I’m sure y’know the drill by now.”
Reverting your attention back onto him, your pulse quickens at his nonchalant conversing of stripping naked. Okay, it was standard procedure for the therapist to go over protocol, but that talk from him is sinfully criminal.
Walking up to the door, Bucky suddenly turns around, “Oh and don’t forget to take off the underwear too, darlin’, be back in a tick.” Bucky winks and slaps the doorframe, finally leaving the room.
Fuck my life.
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You have a couple of minutes to compose yourself before Bucky comes back. Changing out of your clothes was almost a relief - sweat clinging to your skin from meeting him and that freaking accent that drove your mind wild. Your panties seemed to agree too, considering the sticky mess that clung to your folds as you pulled them down your legs.
As you now lay face down on the table, folded towel covering your ass - back and legs on display - you anxiously wait for Bucky’s arrival, muscles subtly twitching from either your stress or the need to get fucked.
Probably both.
The door opens to your only knowledge of hearing, sight only focused on the floor from the carved head cushion allowing your face to sit through it. Goosebumps raise on your arms as you listen to the door then quietly close and footsteps get closer towards your direction.
You hold your breath when you see boots stop into your peripheral and legs bend to show a pair of thick thighs straining against the denim of his jeans.
Yep, definitely Bucky.
Lifting your head slightly to look at his face when he doesn’t speak, you choke on your spit when you find him shirtless, stomach marveled with so many abs. You would count, but you’re a little afraid you’ve lost brain cells from his presence alone. And all hope is gone when you see his jeans strung low on his waist - ‘v’ line tantalising your dignity as you wonder how morally wrong it could be to drop to your knees and lick it.
You’re not proud to say you don’t take anything he says in as Bucky begins going through what’s to be expected for your treatment. Ever the professional as you think he probably tells you what to do should you like any adjustments made with his pressure or technique. Luckily, you seem to have gotten away with it as he stands and picks up some oil, tilting your head back down to do some breathing exercises.
“Jus’ the massage today then, sweets? Y’know I wouldn’t mind throwin’ a free facial in there for y’too with the trouble y’had.”
What the fuck?
Your brain short circuits. Surely he must hear what he’s saying out loud… right?
Inwardly shaking your head, you put it down to the lack of intimacy you had gotten recently, mind conjuring illicit fantasies and turning everything he says into something dirty.
You stutter to reply, “N-no, that’s o-okay, just the massage i-is fine.”
The small smile on Bucky’s face is so innocent, like he hasn’t just rebooted your entire being. “Alrightie then darlin’, lemme get started then.”
Guess them breathing exercises went to shit.
Bucky begins slicking his hands up with the massage oil, lathering between his fingers and ensuring all crevices are glistening - especially his veins that bulge all the way up his forearm.
“I’m warnin’ y’though, I’m quite good with my hands.”
You don’t have time to stop yourself blurting the next automatic thought in your head out into the open.
“I bet you are.”
If you could slap yourself you would. Cringing in despair at your ability to make yourself look stupid. You expect things to turn awkward, for Bucky to show unease and even stop the session altogether.
To your surprise, you feel a whisper of a breath caress your neck as he mumbles the very thing to probably cause your death.
“Oh, you have no idea, darlin’.”
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The start of the massage truly had your nerves settling down and calming you enough to actually enjoy yourself. Yeah, you still struggled with keeping your cool with Bucky’s huge hands caressing you with his sensual touch, but you managed to stop your squirming and relax.
Bucky however, couldn’t keep a straight head for the life of him. Softness of your skin and the feel of your curves literally in the palms of his hands had his cock threatening to bust the zipper of his jeans.
Timid little thing you were, so skittish when you saw him and he just had to have a little fun with you. That soon backfired on him the second he got a hold of you. Fingers itching to just smooth down your luscious body and open you up like his own personal present.
Unfortunately, he had to make do with rubbing his erection against the edge of the massage table to give him some relief. You were just so sexy - a stunning face and an amazing figure - never mind how fucking adorably shy you were.
Just my type and I’ll be damned if I don’t get a piece’a ya, sweetheart.
Was it wrong for him to be thinking of a client this way? Of course. Would Bucky most definitely get fired before he’s even completed his training should anyone find out? No doubt about it. Was that going to change his mind over what he was about to do next?
Absolutely fucking not.
You had succeeded in keeping your moans and whimpers locked away when Bucky reached particularly sensitive spots on your back. No, not the ones that felt a little too tender, the places his touch elicited your growing desire - as much as you tried to hide it, he could still hear your little intakes of breaths.
But that’s not what I’m after sweetie, I wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.
So, he comes up with a plan.
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“Oh darlin’, I can feel all those knots in y’upper back, been workin’ so hard ain’t ya, sweets?”
Fuck, you really had. And Bucky’s praise paired with his seductive voice makes you feel all gooey with neediness, trying to stop yourself sinking into your fuzzy headspace as you reply back. “Y-yeah, I mean I guess so.”
“How ‘bout we try somethin’ different, hm?” Bucky begins to explain, “Reckon if we got y’to bend them legs into a kneelin’ position then it’d feel so much better.”
The sincerity of his voice has you rethinking your suspicions towards how exposed you might be. You still had the towel to cover anything private and while your old therapist never suggested anything like this, Bucky may have learned something new and wanted to try it out.
So you begin to do as he’s asked. “Um, l-like this?”
“Tha’s it, arch that back for me, sweetie.” Again, you follow his instructions all too easily. “Little more for me- there ya go, jus’ like that.”
Bucky can’t help the groan that slips out as he observes the thin towel curve over the shape of your ass. You’re not much higher from the first position you were in, but the subtle lift in your legs, and bowed back allows a perfect image for him.
And a perfect chance.
“Gonna work on y’legs now, sweetheart, lemme know if somethin’ ain’t feelin’ good.”
You don’t have a chance to reply as Bucky begins to knead the muscles in your legs. An unrestrained moan escaping from your lips as he uses his thumbs to work the tension out. You feel as though you've been transported to another world, eyes rolling to the back of your head in glorious pleasure.
Meanwhile, Bucky is having the time of his life watching the jiggle of your ass every time he switches up the motion of his strokes. You don’t seem to notice the towel slowly shifting upwards, revealing the bottom of your ass cheeks to him.
He just needs your legs to spread that tiny bit more so he can see your pretty little pussy.
“That feelin’ good for ya, darlin’?”
Apparently, you let go of all inhibitions from the satisfaction Bucky’s hands bring you, all but unbashfully moaning, “Mhmm, god yes Bucky, feels so fuckin’ good.”
That’s what I love to hear.
“Amazin’. Doin’ so great for me sweetheart, jus’ let ya’self relax and Bucky will take care a ya.”
The dip of your back deepens as you unknowingly start to bring your legs more under you, ass canting up like a cat as Bucky’s thumbs rub close to the crevice under your ass cheeks.
He’s so dangerously close to his prize, he can literally see the wetness that’s spilled from your cunt, coating your inner thighs.
Fuck it.
Bracing for the worst, Bucky’s thumb runs over your pussy lips and your breath hitches as the bolt of electricity that shoots through your body. Now fully aware of his intentions, you expect yourself to feel a slither of outrage, some kind of anger at him for letting it go this far and yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to stop him.
Bucky pauses his thumbs in question, waiting to back off as soon as you deny him and allowing you the freedom of consent.
But, you want this.
The fact he stops his ministrations within an inch of your cunt has you unable to hold back your loud whine, ass pushing back into his hold to try and get him to carry on.
As much as Bucky loves your enthusiasm and he’s almost certain you want this as much as he does, he needs to hear your verbal consent in order for him to proceed. “Ah ah, sweet girl, need to know y’want this, need to hear y’say it.”
With great difficulty, fog clouding your head, you manage to mumble a whimper of agreement. “Fuck, y-yes pleaseee Bucky, give it to me.”
And that’s all the confirmation he needs.
Bucky places both thumbs on each cheek and spreads them apart to reveal your pretty, slick pussy, hole pulsing, almost begging to be filled.
You whimper as you feel his long pointer finger slide through the mess you’ve made and teasingly give your throbbing clit a little tap for good measure.
The little shit even has the audacity to chuckle at your desperation.
“Look at ya darlin’, such a fuckin’ good girl for me, ya think we can get y’a little more wet, hm?”.
He laughs at your stutter, no worries for him though, he can’t wait to make sure he leaves your head empty enough for not one single thought to cross your mind.
Bucky gently slaps your leg and bends over you to whisper in your ear, “turn around, pretty girl.”
The last defence of the towel covering your modesty falls from your body as you quickly move to lie on your back, too fucked out to even notice the breeze that hardens your nipples and exposes your tits to Bucky’s gaze.
He could’ve just picked you up and fucked you against the wall right then and there. But Bucky’s a patient man, and he’s not about to put his pleasure before yours. He wants this to last.
Straddling the table as he combs his wild hair back, Bucky grabs your thighs over his forearms with feral need to drag you down towards him, placing your legs over each of his and separating them. This was his personal slice of heaven.
The view of your cunt and the bounce of your tits has him gripping his cock over his jeans, shaky breaths rattling his chest over how turned on he is from the sight - you really were a goddess, a doll for him to play with until you couldn’t walk.
Releasing himself and grabbing the bottle of oil from the table next to him, Bucky looks directly into your eyes, his own hooded as he unscrews the lid. Your high pitched moans and whimpers have his nerves set alight and he can’t wait to see your face as you cum from his fingers alone.
“Buck-Bucky, what a-are you d-doing?”. It takes everything in you to lift yourself on to your elbows, looking down to see him hovering the bottle over your pussy.
“Y’trust me, sweet girl?”. Fuck, with that voice alone you’d put your whole faith in him.
You gently nod as you never take your eyes away from his, that wicked smirk adorning his face as his eyes light up from your answer.
“Good.”
That’s the last thing you hear before you feel the cold splash of oil drip against your pussy and your shocked moan fills the room as your arms give out.
The liquid rolls down your folds, down to your puckered hole and the thought quickly surpasses Bucky of what your reaction would be if he suggested a little anal play.
First things first, Barnes.
Right.
After emptying the remainder of the oil over you, Bucky tosses the bottle onto the floor, and begins to run his fingers over your cunt, shining in all its pleasurable glory. Trailing down to your hole, Bucky begins to press one finger inside you, stopping at the first knuckle only to take it back out and repeat his torturous teasing.
You can’t help your squirming - hands fisted tight in your hair as your toes curl. The relief of a second finger added to the first only lasts for a minute as again, he torments you by going no further than his first knuckles. All you want is for him to slide his fingers as deep as they can go, but Bucky is far too mesmerised with the glisten of his fingers and the feel of your fluttering little pussy.
“W-want more, baby, p-please Bucky, need more.”
The term of endearment as his feasted eyes snap up to look at you, has his cock twitching - you looked so fucking beautiful like this for him and the pleading in your features has him going soft on you.
Always was a sucker for pretty girls begging.
“Need more, sweetheart? Alright pretty girl, y’can have some more.”
You soon figure how Bucky was holding out on you as he fucks you with his two fingers at a quickened pace, the squelch of mixed juices from your cunt loud to your ears and you’d be embarrassed if Bucky didn’t enjoy it.
And he really did, the sound of your arousal leaking out of you because of him leaves him feeling untamed, beastly, as his veins bulge from his arms. His cock is aching, hard from how much he gets off on your pleasure - he knows he can make it better for you, though. He won’t be happy until you lose your voice because of him.
Slowing down, his deep rumble has the knot in your stomach tightening even more, “Think y’can handle another, sweetie? ‘Cause I think y’can, think this wet pussy needs to be filled up till she can’t take no more.”
With that, Bucky eases a third finger along with his other, the stretch just right to have you wailing out with consistent cries of his name.
Curling his fingers against your upper wall, Bucky searches for that spongey rough patch - he wants you to see stars and he isn’t giving up till you do.
“Hold on a sec sweets, lemme just-, find… oh, there it is.”
All of a sudden your back shoots off the table and your scream of pleasure drowns out the sounds of waterfalls in the background.
“Fuck!”
“Tha’s right darlin’, lemme hear y’scream for me.”
You grip his wrist to keep his hand fucking you, his perfect rhythm too good for you to speak something tangible. But you can’t have him changing anything, you need him to keep everything the same, so you can finish.
Bucky still finds it so fucking hot, sweat from exertion gathering on his neck and dripping down his chest. He couldn’t care less, he just wants to see you cum.
He physically has to use his free arm to force your legs open, it won’t do that you’re trying so desperately to close your legs around him. No. He wants to see you tremble in his hold. He’s fucking craving it.
“C’mon baby, know y’so close sweet girl.”
You are so fucking close, so near to that orgasm you haven’t had in so long - you’ve turned dumb, world blurring around you, only important thing in your mind getting to finish.
And you’re done for as soon as Bucky places his thumb on your swollen clit and circles.
“BUCKY!”
He watches as your shrieks fall from your mouth. Tremors rack through your body, legs finally able to close around his hand as tears from the intensity roll down your temples. You’re in your element and he’s never seen sexier in his entire life.
White cream drips from your pussy as Bucky slowly takes his fingers out, not able to help himself as he plays with your folds and starts to fuck your cum back into you.
Soon enough, you begin to calm down, heavy breathing with your occasional whine of overstimulation from his motions blessing his ears.
He leans down to pepper kisses over your heaving stomach and underneath your breasts, other hand stroking over your heated skin and up to your cheek.
“Easy girl, that’s it, deep breaths.”
Bucky continues to talk you down and strokes your sweaty hair back from your face, your eyes closed and mouth open, panting.
He stops his ministrations altogether, but keeps his fingers inside you, his body connected over yours to settle some of his weight on you and bring you back down to earth.
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Giving you a couple of minutes to come down from your fluffy clouds, Bucky analyses all your signals to make sure you’re okay and that you feel safe - and once he completes all his internal checks, he flashes you a dazzling smile.
“So… this may be a bit forward a’me, but what d’ya say I take y’out on a date tomorrow night?”
You chuckle breathlessly at his little joke - as if he didn’t already have his fingers still in your cunt. “Only if you answer my question.” you counter back.
“Sure thing, lil’ darlin’.”
Trying to keep your expression aloof you ask, “What did you do before you started training to be a massage therapist?”
He looks like a little confused puppy as he cocks his head and frowns, but answers anyway with a cheeky squint of his eyes.
“I used to work on my mama’s ranch back home, sweetheart.”
Your head rolls back onto your shoulders as Bucky begins picking up the steady pace of his fingers again, fucked out smile on your face in rememberance to your guesses from earlier.
Fucking knew it.
He may not have the slightest clue what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t have to know as long as he’s the one who’s making you smile like that.
And, he already can’t wait for your next meeting as he unbuttons his jeans and pulls down his zipper to bring his dick out and start fucking his fist while he enjoys the sight of his other hand fucking your cunt.
“Now, we got another hour to make sure ya get what y’paid for darlin’, so hold on tight and enjoy the ride.”
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A/N: who doesn’t love a happy ending, right? 😈
876 notes · View notes
jasperhaleobsessed · 25 days
Note
Hey, I feel kinda weird asking for another fic since I already asked, but can you please do Jasper Hale x reader where reader is the “backup friend.” Where basically her friends only hang out with her, talk to her, etc when there is no one else to talk to. Reader’s mom (who she’s really close to) starts getting really busy with the reader’s younger siblings and so reader gets less attention/gets ignored. The only time reader gets attention from anyone is either when they need her or no one else is available. Reader is hanging out with the Cullens’ and gets a call from her mom telling her to watch her younger sibling even though reader is out with friends and reader’s other younger sibling is home and free to watch the toddler. She just accepts it, but Jasper gets kinda upset that she just accepted it since he could feel her disappointment and she bursts out crying. Jasper lets her know that she doesn’t deserve to be treated that way and maybe cuddles and forehead kisses ensue?
Your only human
Jasper Hale x Female reader
Summary: The reader is having a hard time and Jasper comforts her.
Notes: Hope you like it and I know this wasn't exactly what you may have wanted but nevertheless still hope you enjoy it! :) Also sorry for taking such a long time!
Warnings: Some angst but a happy ending as usual!
Wordcount: 700
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(Edit: I forgot to add a gif oops 😬)
Your POV
Laughter filled the room as always Emmett made a terrible joke. You secretly enjoyed his jokes. Even Roselie cracked a smile which was a shock. Jasper had his arm around your shoulder and he hugged you close. Warmth filled your cheeks and your chest tightened. You smiled happily especially after Esme came out of the kitchen and presented you with a freshly baked warm chocolate cookie. You smiled gratefully. 
Then you lost, “Oh come on!” You murmured and jokingly gave Carlisle a stink eye. 
“Sorry.” he smiled apologetically. 
“Oh it’s alright.” You smiled warmly. 
“Yes!” Emmett exclaimed. You turned your head in his direction and looked at him confused. 
“Hand it over Alice!” He held out his hand. Alice gave him the puppy dog face but handed the money out anyway.
 “You bet on me?” 
“Yup!” Emmett said enthusiastically.
“How did you win against Alice doesn’t she see the future and all?” Emmett shrugged his shoulders and Alice answered with, “I guess it was a last minute decision.” Roselie rolled her eyes at Emmetts antics. 
“Okay.” You said slowly. You turned back to the game and watched as the rest of the Cullen’s played against each other. 
“Can you believe them?” You laughed. 
“Surprisingly I can.” Jasper laughed as he interlocked his hand into yours. 
Edward won and Alice was close to winning too. It had been a fun night and you enjoyed every bit of it. You enjoyed being wrapped up in Jasper’s arms and you enjoyed laughing and giggling with the Cullen family that was until your mom called. 
Your phone buzzed, you pulled it out of your back pocket and you read the following text: Hi honey I need you to watch your little sibling tonight! 
Your brows furrowed and you responded with: 
You
But I can’t I’m at the Cullen’s right now 
Your mom
Well I’m sorry but your gonna have to 
You 
Why can’t my other capable older sibling do it??
Your mom 
Because they are busy. 
You 
But I’m busy too!
Your mom
You're the eldest, it's part of your job!
You sighed and rubbed your temples as you powered off your phone. You pushed it back into your pocket. 
“What's wrong?”
You turned to look at him and for a moment you had no idea what to do or what to tell him. 
“Uh, my mom needs me to babysit my little sibling.” You said as you went to grab your backpack and get your stuff ready to go. 
“Don’t you have another sibling who's old enough to take care of your younger one?” Jasper asked. 
“Yeah but apparently they can't and I’m the only one who can.” Jasper put his hand on your shoulder and rubbed it soothingly.
“You're working yourself too much, I can feel it.” He caressed your face. 
“I know but no one else can and I have to. I don’t want to but she's relying on me and I can’t go and say no even if I feel exhausted and overworked because she's always working and has no time for her kids anymore. I can't just say no because she needs help and has no time because she’s trying to support her. But as much as I love my siblings I can’t do this. I'm not good at juggling all of this.” You felt your breath hitch and tears sting your eyes. You collapsed in his arms. He listened calmly to your rant.
And rubbed your hair soothingly. “Shhh it’s okay darlin’.” Your body trembled as he sent calming waves to you.
You couldn’t help but hug him tighter. “I’m sorry.” You murmured. 
He pulled you away and cupped your face, “You have no reason to be sorry. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed and exhausted, that's normal. Your only human darlin’.” You gave him a small smile and your tears continued to pour down your face as he whipped them away. 
He calmed you again and you took a deep breath just as he did. “Feel better?” You smiled and hugged him tightly. 
“Would you like me to come with you and help you so you don’t feel as overwhelmed?” 
“Yes!” You felt relieved. 
You turned to the rest of the Cullens and said, “Sorry for crying on ya.” Esme looked at you sympathetically, "Don’t worry dear you're completely fine.” She got up from the sofa and hugged you. Alice jumped up from her seat and you and Esme turned to her. 
“Don’t ever apologize! It’s okay!” She smiled warmly. You always thought her smiles were contagious. She smiled back at her warmly. The other Cullen’s agreed. Jasper took your hand as he led you to your house and you both smiled as you headed there. 
The End. 
132 notes · View notes
iwritefandomimagines · 2 months
Text
NOTES — JESS MARIANO
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based on a request
masterlist
pairing: jess mariano x reader
description: after months of mutual pining, jess arrives at luke’s having read your favourite novel. oh, and he has some notes.
warnings: swearing, jokey sexual reference, other than that just tooth rotting fluff vibes
author’s note: thank you so much for this request, i loved it sm i had to immediately start writing!!! i hope it does jess justice — i love writing him so much. i may go back and edit some bits im not 100% happy with — but i hope you enjoy!!!
pleaaaaase let me know what you think — i love love love reading you guys’ feedback <3
———
“I finished it.”
If you were anyone else, you’d have jumped out of your skin at the sudden, and rather loud, appearance of someone beside you.
But this was you, and it was Jess, so you were more than used to your ‘peaceful’ study sessions at Luke’s being interrupted by his ever-present smirk, his flirting and his endless supply of smartarse comments.
Not that you could complain.
You’d grown used to his omnipresence over a year ago. And it had been months now since you’d realised that you no longer just tolerated his company — you enjoyed it a ridiculous amount and instead longed for it when he wasn’t around.
You eyed him quizzically, noting how proud of himself he looked for reading your favourite book, but also noticing an unusual lack of self-assurance glimmering through his expression.
“I would ask if you mean this trig stuff for Mr Elton,” you gestured down to the homework you’d been painfully poring over for the past hour, “But I know you too well to expect you to actually do your homework, so what are you talking about?”
He didn’t mention that the real reason he never studied in your trig study sessions was because he was more often than not too busy staring at you and coming up with things to say to make you laugh.
Jess raised his eyebrows, but then shook his head and cleared his throat to do a godawful impression of you, “Oh Jess, I can’t believe you’ve never read it. My favourite novel in the whole world and you’ve never read it!”
You scoffed, “If that was supposed to be me, get out of here.”
“Please, like you really want to get rid of me,” he teased, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you, “Then you’d be miserable and heartbroken and, even worse, have to actually finish your trig homework. Besides, I enjoyed it.”
Your eyes brightened up at this, and you could tell he noticed, “Don’t look so surprised, Y/N. Your taste isn’t that bad… I mean, you hang out with me don’t you?”
“For some reason, yes,” you pretended to grumble, feigning ignorance of the butterflies in your stomach at his usual smug smile, “But you really liked it?”
He sat down in the seat opposite you now, pulling the book from his bag and slamming it down in front of you, “Well, I have notes of course.”
You rolled your eyes, at which he couldn’t help but laugh, “Hey, it wasn’t terrible. I did say I enjoyed it… Some of the notes are nice.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure.”
“You wound me,” Jess feigned a pout, “Romance isn’t usually my genre and you know that.”
“Of course. Hemingway fanboy is too cool for my sappy romantic books, huh,” you joked, heart still racing wildly at the notion he’d even started reading it, let alone finished it.
“Pfft. Austen fangirl should be less rude and give more Hemingway a try, I say,” he quipped back, tongue in cheek.
“Hey, I like Hemingway,” you shook your head, “I just don’t go to bed and jerk off over how great I think he is like you so obviously do.”
He shook his head and pulled a face that faked shock, “And how much time in the day, on average, would you say you spend thinking about what I jerk off over, huh?”
“You are such an ass,” you tutted, swatting his arm, “Approximately none, thank you very much.”
“Whatever you say, princess.”
“Anyway, if you’re done being gross, let’s get back to the important thing here. You read my book,” You reached to pull the book towards you, only for him to snatch it back and rest his elbows on it.
You furrowed your brows at him, “What’ve you got to hide in there?”
His eyes narrowed, his lip between his teeth now as though he was thinking hard about something.
“C’mon, Mariano,” you leaned forward, “I assumed that since you brought the book with you, I’d get to see at least some of your notes.”
His fingers were picking at the edges of the book’s cloth sleeve, his toes drumming on the floor anxiously like they’d recently begun to do more often when he was around you.
He heaved out a deep sigh, “Look. I’m going to give you this, and then I’m gonna leave the diner, alright? And then, and only then, you can open this book up, and you can read what’s in there. And if you never see me again it’s ’cause I’ve died of embarrassment or something. Got it?”
You rolled your eyes, chin on your palm.
He slid the book in your direction now as you watched him swallow thickly and cocked your head to the side like a curious puppy, “Ever so cryptic, aren’t you?”
“You’ll figure it out, Miss Marple.”
With that, he rose to his feet and darted out of the diner before you could even say another word.
You briefly made eye contact with Luke behind the counter, who watched you carefully for a moment before looking down at the book now carefully clutched between your fingers.
You wasted no time then, pulling open the book and desperately skimming for whatever the hell he was talking about.
You weren’t sure what on earth you expected to find when you flicked through its pages, but it most certainly wasn’t a plethora of sticky tabs with scrawled notes on about how the protagonist reminded him of you.
You expected even less, then, to find a note in Jess’ handwriting at the very back of the book declaring that he realised halfway through — when the two love interests whose relationship bore a crazy resemblance to your own, realised that they were in fact in love — that he’d been stupid to deny that he even liked you, let alone that he’d quite obviously fallen stupidly in love with you.
Shock coursed through you, your heart racing at the uncharacteristically romantic and yet somehow still so incredibly Jess gesture.
You stood up, almost knocking over your chair as you placed the book under your arm and turned to leave, “I’ll be back—uh, soon.”
Luke nodded, “Go get him kiddo.”
You smiled, butterflies whirling in your stomach as you left the diner almost as quickly as Jess had just minutes ago.
You knew exactly where you’d find him — perched on the bridge swinging his feet and letting his mind convince him you wouldn’t in a million years feel the same.
When he heard the sound of your footsteps approaching, you saw him clench his eyes shut as if in hope that he was imagining you and that you’d soon disappear.
“You can’t confess your love for me and then run away, Jess,” you bit your lip as you teased him softly, “It’s not fair not to give me a chance to say it back properly. You do get bonus points for how much of a romance novel cliché that move is, though.”
He sighed, a deep heavy sigh of relief, and it was as though suddenly he reverted to his usual self, “Technically the book confessed my love for you, actually. And the window for reciprocating hasn’t quite closed yet. I’m all ears, pretty girl.”
You loved this.
You loved how easy things always were for you with Jess.
Everything that went unspoken still never went unsaid — sure, you’d been flirtatious friends for a while now, uncertain of quite how seriously he reciprocated your feelings, but deep down you always sort of knew.
You loved that ever since he’d come to Stars Hollow, he’d shown that he cared in his own silly little ways.
And he loved you.
And you loved him.
You sat down at his side, still clutching the book tightly as he finally looked across at you with a small smile.
“You’re such a romantic, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you,” you nudged his side teasingly, “But I— Jess I do love you, and I’ve probably loved you for a long time even though I didn’t want to let myself admit it.”
“Wow, okay Mr Darcy… Wait ‘til Luke hears that the real reason you’ve only just told me that is because you think he’s embarrassing,” he mocked, but you felt him shuffle closer, “I’ve definitely loved you for longer than I thought I had too, if it makes you feel any better.”
“Much better, Miss Bennet,” you laughed, linking your arms and leaning against his shoulder as he pressed a small kiss to the top of your head.
You felt Jess’ chest rise and fall as you closed your eyes and let the sound of the stream beneath you wash over you.
“So, like, I don’t know the protocol with the whole ‘best friends to lovers’ trope like you do, so you’re gonna have to help me out here,” Jess chuckled.
You sat back up to look at him whilst still keeping hold of his arm, “Hmm, I think what’s meant to happen next is you kiss me and ask to take me on a real date. Pretty sure that’s right.”
“Right, everyone’s favourite cliche moment,” Jess rolled his eyes jokingly but cupped your face with his palms, “God, what have you done to me?”
“You looove me,” your response was muffled as he pressed his lips to yours to shut you up, at first gently and then with a touch more urgency.
When you pulled away, he let go of your face and smiled softly, “So about that date?”
“You got it, Mariano,” you grinned, kissing him quickly once more as you paused, “But you’re going to have a tough time doing anything as romantic as annotating my favourite book and writing me a love note, you know.”
He scoffed, “Oh I’ve got plenty more where that came from, Y/N.”
“Is that a threat?” you giggled, leaning back into his side.
“Just you wait and see.”
———
ok so i kinda lost my way with this a bit eventually and i’m sorry it’s quite short but i had sooooo much fun writing it. i love jess so fucking much and i’m so grateful for all the jess requests i get — trying v hard to work through them asap because it’s so fun.
thanks for reading! here’s my masterlist for more <3
248 notes · View notes
adventuringblind · 9 months
Text
Bucket List
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Genre: soul shredding, crying so hard, etc.
Request: no but I felt like crying so here ya go. If you have a specific scenario you would like to cry too, please request it. I love off human tears
Summary: her body loved to contract problems. Charles is determined to stay by her side.
Warnings: soul shattering, talks of illness, not proofread because I can’t edit and cry at the same time… I am not that talented
Notes: idk why I did this to myself…
Masterlist
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Some people are just naturally drawn to tragedy. Though, for most, it's unwilling. This is the case for Charles Leclerc.
He fell in love in an unexpected way. At the hospital. Falling into her on accident.
It was 2015, he was still a child, in his way out from visiting Jules. He was teary eyed and lost in thought.
Until he fell on top of her. The pills in her hand flying everywhere.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” He scrambled back to his feet and helped her up. The two trying to pick everything up.
“It’s okay, really, I wasn’t paying attention either.”
They got everything picked picked up, then they looked at each other. Really looked at each other.
She smiled. “No offense but, you look like shit and I feel like shit. Wanna make it up to me with lunch?”
They spent the rest of the day together. Charles learned their the same age. She wanted to travel. She’s dying.
It was terrible to learn. He didn’t know how to react.
“I’ve accepted it. I want to live before I die.”
His heart knew what he should do, but his mind didn’t want to let her in. Jules was already on the verge of leaving him. Could he do this again? If he was able to help her get closure, maybe he could find closure with Jules. It was a dumb idea. A terrible idea, really.
“Come with me. I travel a lot for racing. We can do whatever you have left in your bucket list.” He blurted before he could think about it more.
She smiled. “Sure.”
~
They became fast friends. She followed him to every race. Her parents were apprehensive at first, but they saw how much she wanted this and they weren’t going to deny her.
They tried to go as many places as possible with her, but work always caught up with them. The Leclerc’s became her second family.
She was able to help Charles through Jules eventual death. He cried for days. His races were getting increasingly difficult. The pain behind his eyes was evident.
She stayed with him. Comforted him. Made him keep going when he wanted to quit.
It took time, but Charles got there. He kept going. It was because of her.
~
Charles dragged her around the Paddock. She was know as his best friend. Pierre often teasing the two about it. The French constantly nagging Charles about when he was going to confess to her.
He would be lying if he said he didn’t want too. He had fallen in love with her view on life. How she wanted to enjoy every second. They were able to do that together.
He could tell though, her body was steadily getting weaker. Her lungs struggling to to breathe. Yet she didn’t waiver. Her smile was contagious.
He took her to see every monument. She tried every food. They took a ridiculous amount of pictures.
Then it happened again.
Charles didn’t understand why it was him. How he attracted so much death to the people around him.
His father was sick during his formula 2 career. It was difficult for him to get through, yet somehow he came back stronger. She’d helped him with Jules and again with his father. He couldn’t help thinking she was some sort of guardian angel. Sent specifically to him for this reason.
They both broke down when he won that race and dedicated it to his father. Joy and sorrow mixed into their sobs.
~
Then he kissed her.
When he signed his formula 1 contract, he thought he was dreaming. This notion led to him doing things he wouldn’t normally with the newfound confidence. Including kissing her.
She kissed back.
He’d helped her cross everything off her bucket list; Including falling in love. She’d known for awhile but didn’t want to push anything. They both knew what was coming. They knew her time was limited.
So they made the most of it. Charles took her out on dates whenever he could. They did things that weren’t even on her list. They watched every movie they could think of.
She smiled through it all. The doctors didn’t think she would live this long. The medication she was on was doing better then expected.
Charles didn’t want to waste any time though. Neither of them knew when her time would come. Everyday was a blessing.
When he signed with Ferrari, he knew he wanted to marry her. He would have never made it here without her.
He gave her everything. A proposal on the beach, a wedding that made her feel elated, a caring husband who was there on her hardest days.
She was around the paddock so much that everyone knew her. Everyone wanted to be around her. She was filled with life even though she knew she was knocking on deaths door.
~
It had been a cloudy day. Rain dripping down the window. She was drinking hot chocolate and reading a book. It was her favorite kind of atmosphere.
She’d been feeling terrible all day. Thankful that Charles had time off for the winter to help her around.
They had friends visiting. Pierre, Lando, and Max had come to stay for the week.
It was crazy to her that Charles was going into his fifth year in F1. If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t think she’d get to see him through this far. She felt blessed for it.
She felt so exhausted. Yet she still smiled when Charles came over and kissed her head.
Everything was so bright. It felt warm and comforting. Like Charles embrace. She could feel him holding her.
She wiped a tear from him cheek.
“I love you. Don’t forget it.” Then she smiled. Somehow she managed to catch a glimpse of his smile.
Her gaze moved to behind him. She saw Jules and Charles father. They were greeting her.
She knew what was happening. She could stop it.
With the last of her strength, she kissed Charles. Then let herself be embraced by the warmth.
~
It had been a month. He’d been grieving his loss. Barely talking to anyone. He’d lost his smile.
The funeral was hard. The entire grid had shown up. To mourn her and support him.
It felt like so much time had passed and was frozen simultaneously. He was struggling to take care of himself.
He was angry with life for constantly taking away his loved ones. It wasn’t fair. He wanted more time with them. With her.
Arthur had been staying with him. When he couldn’t, Pierre would. They tried to get him to get out of the house. Nothing they said seemed to help him. They knew it was going to be slow.
Pierre had come into his dark and messy room. Taking a seat at the end of his bed. “I wanted to let you know that they finished the grave stone. We don’t have to go see it today though. Whenever you’re ready.” Then he left.
Charles was ready to go in ten minutes. He looked tired and broken, but he was up. He needed to see her. Something to provide him with closure.
Pierre drove them to the cemetery. Stopping to get her favorite flowers along the way. When he parked the car, he didn’t get out. “I think you should have a minute to talk to her.” Then he pulled out an envelope from his pocket. “She asked me to give this you when you were ready.”
Charles shakily took the envelope and made his way to where she now rest.
~
It didn’t take him long. He’d spent hours choosing exactly where he wanted her to eternally rest. Close to the river that flowed through the cemetery. Underneath the shade of a large tree.
The words written across her grave made him choke out more sobs.
Y/N Leclerc, loving wife, lover of life, may your smile still be contagious from above the clouds
He gently sets the flowers down on top of the stone. Then he just sits. He doesn’t care in the ground is cold and wet. It feels natural to sit with her,
He opens the letter Pierre handed to him. Scared to read her words. Her handwriting looked a littler rushed. She’d written poetic words of comfort. Love seeped off the page.
She’d made him a bucket list. Things to do after she was gone. And at the very bottom: find someone to smile with.
~
She looked on at him. Her hand grazing his shoulder. She was glad the letter made him smile despite the tears.
“He’s going to be okay.” Jukes smiled from behind her.
“I know, he’s strong.”
Herve places a hand in his other shoulder. “You taught him well.”
“I think we all did.” She chuckles.
“Thanks for taking care of him all these year when we couldn’t.”
~
Dear Charlie,
I know my time is running out. I can feel myself getting weaker by the day. I know it’s not fair to you that I have to leave so soon. Regardless, the time I’ve spent with you has been the most amazing thing life could have blessed me with.
Remember that life gives you rough patches so you can appreciate the smiles that much more. Remember that your friends and family love you just as mulch as I do.
Don’t mourn for me, because I’m not gone. You can find me in the memories, the laughs, the tears. I’m with you, always.
I’ve taken the liberty of creating you a new bucket list. You can complete this in your own time, don’t feel rushed to do so. I just want you to remember that there is still life for you to live.
Learn how to cook
Stargaze from the track
Visit every state in America
Win the WDC
Find someone who makes you smile
Love your favorite person,
Y/N
P.S.: I’ll make sure Jules hasn’t been causing trouble in the afterlife
448 notes · View notes
solemnarration · 2 years
Text
the girl with the books | r.l
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pairings: remus lupin x reader (she/her pronouns) genre(s): marauder era, strangers to lovers, fluff, humour summary: james and sirius notice that it’s not the books that keep remus in the library, and are determined to know whether you – the object of remus’s affection – return his feelings. word count: 3.0k warning(s): none note: this is a 2022 update of the fic of the same name that i wrote back in 2016! my writing has improved by leaps and bounds and i couldn’t help but edit and improve the fic that a few of you seemed to really love :) i hope you enjoy it if you liked the original, or that you find something new to read
The Hogwarts library was the place where you found the most solace. Even on the few days that the Scottish countryside provided undisturbed sunshine, like today, you preferred to curl up with a book on one of the grand wooden tables. You enjoyed your time in the library; reading fiction or researching different topics that you were curious about. While your friends encouraged you to enjoy the warm day with them, you easily waved them off in favour of the dimly lit library.
Remus Lupin could be found in the library as often as you, except it wasn’t the books that kept him coming back. The sight of you sitting in a corner reading by yourself was enough to draw his attention every few minutes. He couldn’t even help himself, his eyes had no choice in the way they continually found your figure, but he was in no place to complain. 
Remus sat with his three best friends at the other end of the library, and they were less than happy to be spending the first sunny day of spring in the library rather than bothering the giant squid in the black lake. Now that the weather was no longer freezing, Sirius and James were desperate to cause some mischief, and Peter was happy to comply.
“What is it that you find so fascinating about a hall full of books?” Sirius inquired, lifting a book up from the table, grimacing at the idea of spending his free time reading, and carelessly dropping it back onto the table.
Remus flinched as the sound resonated throughout the library, capturing your attention as you gave the four friends an inquisitive look. For a moment, Remus held his breath, unable to tear his eyes away from you as you gave him a speck of casual attention. Realising it was just James Potter and his friends messing around, you happily returned to your reading without a second thought. 
“It’s not about the books, Padfoot,” Remus snapped quietly, glancing away with reddened cheeks, the heat of your gaze on him still warming his body. “And I didn’t force you to be here,” he reminded.
“Well, no,” Sirius sighed. “But it’s terribly tragic for you to spend the first nice day Hogwarts has seen in-“
“A decade,” James chimed in, exaggerating to help Sirius make a point.
“A decade,” Sirius agreed with a nod. “Inside a hall full of books instead of playing outside with us! As your friend, it’s our duty to convince you to abandon this wretched place and do something more fun.”
“Well said, Padfoot,” James agreed, tall frame spread languidly across three chairs in a makeshift bed. “Dare I say, revolutionary. So, black lake, Moony?”
“I’m perfectly content here, thank you very much,” Remus refused, thoroughly entertained by James and Sirius’s usual dramatics.
“Who could be content in such an oppressive place,” Sirius complained, as if he himself didn’t have good grades and didn’t spend time studying in this very library. “Other than Lily,” he added, recognising the smitten glint in James’s eyes that he got every time he brought her up.
“She’s so responsible, my lovely Lily,” James sighed, pleased with himself. “I’m going to marry that girl, just you wait and see. It’s the only reason I come to the library with her.”
“You come to the library to chat up Lily? No wonder you aren’t dating yet,” Sirius teased. As James and Sirius went back and forth poking fun at each other, Peter pondered Remus’s words.
“If you’re not here for the books, what are you here for?” Peter wondered aloud, causing Sirius and James to glance expectantly at their friend. 
Remus rolled his eyes, intending to fabricate a fantastic comeback that would distract his three friends, but even the thought of you caused his stare to drift back to where you were, now getting up to choose a different book to check out of the library. 
He loved the way you did that. Even if you finished a book in your time at the library, you always made sure to bring a book with you.
Remus loved the way you did everything, really. He had always liked you, ever since you loaned him a quill when he forgot his during Defence Against the Dark Arts. Even now, it was his favourite class just because it made him think of you. 
“Moony?” Sirius waved a hand in front of Remus’s face in an attempt to grab his attention. “Remus, what are you staring at?” he followed Remus’s gaze and saw exactly what he was staring at. “Oh,” he said, finally connecting all the very obvious clues together. “It’s not a what, it’s a who,” Sirius practically giggled with glee.
James’s head snapped in your direction, scrambling to sit up and launch himself next to Sirius in an effort to get a good look at you. This commotion once again drew your attention, leading James and Sirius to act as naturally as they could. They picked up the books stacked in front of them and made a big deal out of reading the text aloud, the act so comical and over-the-top that it couldn’t possibly be convincing.
You grinned to yourself, shaking your head in amusement, and slipped behind a bookshelf to look over the Herbology section. Frank Longbottom had recommended a delightful title on growing Dittany and other healing herbs, and you took the older boy’s recommendations very seriously. 
Once you were out of sight, James tossed his book thoughtlessly aside, snatching Remus’s book from his grasp to gain his undivided attention. “Who is that, Moony my dear?” James asked, adjusting his glasses. They had slipped down his nose when he whipped his head around to look at you, and the act had made the boy a little dizzy.
“Who?” Remus asked, knowing that his performance was pitiful and unconvincing, and pretending not to understand regardless of this fact. “What do you mean?”
Frustrated that Remus was lying, and subsequently that he was an absolutely terrible liar, Sirius exclaimed, “The girl you were staring at!”
“Who is that girl? Do you know her?” James asked excitedly, taking a more enthusiastic approach than Sirius in hopes that it would make Remus open up about his crush.
“Girl?” Remus repeated, squinted as if he was giving this conversation a real good thought, before widening his eyes sarcastically. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sorry boys.”
James and Sirius shared a look – having a silent conversation that Remus would promptly regret keeping them in the dark about his crush – before rolling their eyes and sighing. They had decided it: they were just going to have to catch you when Remus was gone.
A few hours later, it had darkened considerably since you first entered the library, and once you realised that you had been hauled up in the library for a considerable amount of time, you realised how hungry you were. Perhaps camping out in the library all day without a proper lunch wasn’t your best idea, but at least you knew dinner would be ready soon.
Rising, you stretched your legs before collecting all the books you had flicked through that day and moving to stow them back in their original places on the tall Hogwarts library shelves. Most of them were within a reasonable reach, slotting easily into their previous spots as you strolled happily throughout the library. However, one of the books was at a considerably higher place on the shelf, and you couldn’t put it away even on the tips of your toes. 
With a huff of frustration, you stood flat on your feet and were about to reach for your wand when someone took the book from your grasp. “Here,” a voice said from behind you. “Let me help you with that!”
You turned just in time to see Sirius Black easily putting your book away for you, his friend James Potter standing nearby with an uncharacteristic spring in his step. Though James and Sirius were always a ball of energy in the classes you shared with them, the grins they sported today were difficult to identify. Perhaps mischievous would be the best way to describe the perfect simpers on their faces.
“Thanks,” you acknowledged his help with furrowed brows, wondering what Sirius and James could possibly be so ecstatic about. When the two boys simply stared at you, unmoving, you figured that they wanted something from you. “Did you two need something?” you asked, their unwavering smiles growing slightly unnerving.
“Oh!” Sirius seemed to realise that they were staring at you, and how disturbing this might be to a girl they had hardly spoken to. “Right! Yes, actually. We wanted to have a word with you.”
“Okay,” you nodded as if this wasn’t unusual. James and Sirius certainly didn’t seem to think their behaviour was odd, so you figured they were harmless on this particular occasion.
“We were just wondering if you knew Remus,” James explained himself, barely keeping still with excitement. “I mean, you do know him, don’t you?”
You nodded, still weary of where the conversation was leading. Sirius and James were known to be pranksters, and you weren’t sure if you were the next victim of one of their jokes. “Yes, I know Remus,” you confirmed. “He’s your friend, right? I speak to him sometimes when we’re in the library at the same time.” When Sirius and James linked hands and started jumping up and down, utter confusion overwhelmed you. “Uh, why do you ask?”
Noticing your discomfort, James and Sirius stopped jumping in favour of smiling at you. “I’m sorry, what was your name again? We share a few classes but between listening to the Professor and keeping James in check it can be hard to keep up,” Sirius said, his natural charisma making him instantly likeable.
“Y/n,” you introduced yourself.
“Nice to meet you, Y/n,” James said politely. “Now, this may seem quite blunt, but we want to set you up with our friend Remus,” he said matter-of-factly, followed by an encouraging nod from Sirius.
Your eyes widened at the confession. “Oh,” you said awkwardly. “I’m not going to lie, I had no idea that’s what you were going to say.”
“We have that effect on people,” said James, nodding sympathetically, as if people often had this reaction to the things they said. “So? What do you say? Give our mate Remus a chance?”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you shook your head, trying to smile politely. 
The smiles on Sirius and James’s faces faded. “Why not?” Sirius inquired, tilting his head to the side as he observed your nervous expression. “Do you not like Remus?”
“Why wouldn’t you like Remus?” James added, appalled and affronted at the mere idea of someone not liking their best friend. “You like reading, don’t you? Well, Remus might even have you beat! He’s the world’s biggest bookworm.”
“Incorrigible,” Sirius agreed. “Can’t get him out of this bloody library. And you aren’t helping, either,” he added.
“I’m not?”
“Of course not!” James exclaimed. “You only keep him here even longer than usual! Even on a day as lovely as this.”
“Perfect for wasting time,” sighed Sirius, lamenting the wonderful day outside they had missed out on. “So, how come you don’t like Remus?”
“That’s not it,” you said hurriedly, struggling to get a word in amongst their quick banter. “It’s just,” you sighed. “Why are you asking me this anyway?” you changed the subject, hoping it would take some of the heat off of you. 
Luckily for you, it worked. “Well, Remus seems to have developed a crush on you,” James said casually, as if he wasn’t bearing one of his best friends’ deepest secret. Well, second deepest secret. “It’s really quite adorable. All the typical crush symptoms. You know, longing gazes,” James began listing the many qualities he had noticed in Remus during the last few hours. “Romantic, hopeless sighing whenever you’re around, losing focus, refusing to play with his best friends even on a day as perfect as this.”
“The list goes on!” Sirius exclaimed. You had to smile at the two friends, not only were they quite comical, but they seemed to be buzzing with endless energy. “I think it would benefit you to give Remus a chance. He’s rather attractive, our friend.”
“Though, not as attractive as us,” James added, winking to show that he was joking.
“Well we can’t hold everyone to such impossible standards,” Sirius said sympathetically, nodding to himself. “Still, he’s quite attractive! Charming and kind, too. All the things girls like. So are you in?”
“Well,” you stammered, feeling your face burning with embarrassment when you saw how intently Sirius and James were looking at you.
To save you from your answer, the sound of Remus’s footsteps and voice interrupted your sentence. “What are you boys still doing here,” he froze when he came into view, noticing the way Sirius and James had cornered you. “Y/n?” he asked, the picture of you hanging out with his two best friends nothing short of foreign and unfamiliar. Remus sighed in annoyance when he saw Sirius and James exchange guilty faces. “What have these two told you?” he asked you, already dreading your answer.
“We didn’t tell her much,” Sirius said, quick to defend their actions. “We’ve just been… talking,” he added, purposely leaving out the subject matter. James nodded rigorously, smiling innocently at Remus with visible panic in his eyes. 
“I’ll talk to you both later,” Remus said to his friend, tone firm and borderline scolding. Then, he faced you with what looked like an apologetic smile. “Do you need help putting that away?” he asked, nudging his head to the last two books in your arms
You smiled, instantly more comfortable now that Remus was there. With a nod, you left Sirius and James behind in favour of putting your books away. “Listen,” Remus began, gently taking your books and putting them on the correct shelf in the Herbology section. “I’m really sorry for whatever Sirius and James said,” he let out a nervous laugh, easily reaching the high shelves thanks to his tall height.
“Don’t be,” you shrugged, charmed by Remus’s very presence. Something about Remus’s gentle spirit contrasted comfortably with Sirius and James’s craziness, and it settled your heart in a wonderful way. “They meant well, I think,” you smiled up at Remus. “Your friends are really nice.”
“I wouldn’t say nice, perhaps deranged is more accurate,” Remus joked, a pleased smile gracing his lips when you laughed. “But they’re pretty great. I can always count on them to say things I’m too scared to say,” he admitted, trailing off into a comfortable silence.
“I don’t know about them being deranged, but they did have some interesting things to say,” you admitted, fully intending to tease Remus once you realised his friends were telling the truth. He really did have a crush on you. “All about crushes, and longing gazes,” you added, grinning when you saw Remus turn slightly pink at your insinuation.
Remus groaned, lifting his hands to cover his face in embarrassment. “Oh Merlin,” he muttered, nervous laughter bubbling from his mouth. “I’m so sorry! If anything they said made you uncomfortable, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you shook your head. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. Stunned by the sheer force of their energy? Definitely. But not uncomfortable. I guess it was just hard to believe,” you admitted. “Still is, really.”
“What, that I fancy you?” Remus asked, uncovering his eyes once you assured him that you weren’t upset. “Why is that hard to believe?”
“I don’t know, you’re… Remus Lupin,” you explained terribly. “You’re a Gryffindor and you’re funny and popular. Your friends didn’t even know what my name was and I’ve been in your class for nearly six years now,” you recalled, shrugging your shoulders good-naturedly. 
“Sirius and James hardly remember their own names, I wouldn’t take it personally,” Remus wisecracked, though there was a seriousness in his eyes that made you believe his words. “Besides, the trouble is only just starting!” he added. “Now that they know your name, you won’t be able to get rid of them.”
“Sounds terrifying,” you joked back, grinning.
“There’s no escaping those two,” Remus said dramatically. “I’ve been trying to shake them for six years now, but they don’t seem to care.”
“Maybe I should change my name,” you offered.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Remus burst out, laughing at your banter. You grinned at each other, so absorbed with the other person that you didn’t notice Sirius and James poke their heads around the shelf to eavesdrop on your conversation. “Y/n, do you think,” Remus paused, intimidated by the adorable way in which you turned your head and smiled at him. You were overwhelmingly perfect, and it was really starting to distract the poor boy. “Would you maybe…”
“Would I maybe?” you encouraged.
“Would you maybe want to go to Hogsmeade with me? This upcoming weekend? If you’re not busy that weekend, I mean,” Remus said, barely getting the words out without struggling.
“Oh,” the smile on your face widened almost impossibly so. “I think I might be busy,” Remus’s face dropped, eyes averting to his feet to hide his disappointment. “Changing my name to avoid these two boys I just met. However, their friend is pretty cute, so perhaps I could postpone my plans,” you added quickly, not wanting your joke to go badly.
Remus’s head rose quickly to meet your eyes, a relieved sigh leaving him. “Really?” he asked rhetorically, and before you could confirm your answer, you heard loud cheering come from beside you. Within seconds, James and Sirius leapt out from behind you and tackled Remus into a hug.
“Yeah Remus!”
“That’s our best friend!”
“Our best friend is finally going on a date!”
“Don’t scare her off,” Remus warned, pushing James away as he started peppering kisses across his face. “Seriously, stop it,” he laughed, not meaning a single word. 
“No,” Sirius said proudly, pulling you in to join their hug. “Y/n’s just going to have to get used to us.”
You quite liked the sound of that.
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fox-bee926 · 10 months
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My Tailor
Harvey Specter x fem!reader
Masterlist A/N: holy shit dudes I finally did it. It was hard and full of procrastination. But I did it. I might make another one. I might not. At this point consistency is a figment of my imagination. (not really edited don't come for me) Anyway! Enjoy! TW: suggestive talking, but only a bit of a joke. Nothing really scandalous or anything of the sort; Harvey being jealous Word Count: ~997 (nothing real crazy dw)
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(Third POV)
Mike walks up to the door of Ms. Tailor’s Thread and Needle, business card in hand. The sign says closed, and the shop seems dark, but there is obvious movement. He is just about to knock on the door when it swings open. The woman seems very surprised when he stumbles back, rubbing his hands on his pants.
“Hello... Do you work here?”
“No, I sneak in just to eat my lunch.” 
Mike looks panicked for a moment, then composes himself. “By the sarcasm, I assume you do. I was sent by Harvey Specter. He has made his opinion on my suits very clear.”
“Of course he did, they’re terrible," Mike looks down, confused, thinking they were top of the line. "I’m Ms. Taylor, come on in.” Ms. Taylor opens the door wider, but keeps the sign flipped to closed. She smoothed out the wrinkles of her dress pants. “The other girls went out for lunch but Jessie told me I had a priority one booking. I’m going to assume that’s you.”
Mike walks into the shop and looks around. He stops in his tracks with a deer in headlights look. “Wait a minute, Harvey told me not to talk to you.”
“Did he now? Oh, don’t worry about him, honey. I promise he won’t mind.” The door shuts closed and Ms. Taylor turns the rest of the floor lights on as she grabs a small box of tools.
Mike goes to stand on the raised platform encircled by lights. “Are you sure? He seemed pretty... clear. Just as clear as his hating of my suits.”
“Positive, Mike. Now, let’s see what we’re working with. Oh, and please, call me Y/N.”
___
(Second POV)
You unlock the door to your shared apartment with Harvey. Mike had talked to you quite a bit about his time at Pearson Hardman. Especially how much of an ass Harvey had been to him. You had thought about talking Harvey into easing up on him, but in the end you decided against it. Harvey was bound to be upset hearing you two even talked at all. 
“He just said not to talk to you. No explanation or anything. I was worried that you had torn his suit or something.”
“I tore the buttons off one time, but that was completely non-work related. I’ll talk to him when I get home. For now, just say Jessie tailored you. Have a good day, hun, and good luck.”
You couldn’t lie, you were a bit upset that Harvey told his own associate not to let you tailor him. You had tailored every person even remotely close to Harvey, even Louis. However, Harvey’s jealousy was understandable. After Louis had not so subtly flirted with you, and not so subtly got his pockets’ seams ripped, Harvey was weary of sending his male coworkers to you for a suit.
The sound of the front door closing and your bag hitting the floor caught the attention of said Harvey Specter from the kitchen. As soon as your eyes met, he knew he was in trouble. Harvey waited patiently, wine glass in hand, in silence as you took your coat and heels off. Finally, you spoke.
“You told your own associate not to be tailored by me?”
“That little snitch. I knew something was up when he said Jessie had tailored him. You would never send Jessie to tailor a priority one.”
“That’s right. I would never send Jessie to tailor a priority one. I would never send anyone but myself to tailor a priority one, and you knew that. Yet, you were going to have Mike get a below-standard tailor job because you couldn’t handle your girlfriend hemming the pants of your coworker.” The more you talked, the more you realized just how angry you were. 
You and Harvey had had this conversation several times. You always said how you could handle yourself when male clients tried getting frisky (they always tried,) and Harvey said that he hates you getting so close to his male coworkers.
“This is- This is ridiculous! I shouldn’t have to ask you not to tailor my coworkers! I don’t like your hands being so close to their... inseam.” He made a confused face for a moment before going back to his rant. “How should I feel knowing that every man you tailor in New York feels your hands on him? How should that make me feel other than angry and very, very shitty?” His hands gripped the counter in frustration, and you copied the motion.
“You should feel angry. But you should also trust that the only thing I’m doing is poking a needle very close to their ‘inseam,’ as you put. I promise you, I can handle myself.” You reached across the counter and wrapped your hand around his.
Harvey hung his head, knowing he wouldn’t be getting anywhere. Also knowing, deep down, that he was overreacting a bit. “Fine. I’m sorry. But I’m still not going to recommend anyone unless absolutely necessary.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” You walked around to his side of the counter and wrapped your arms around him, leaning your head against his back. He smelled of ballpoint pen and whatever cologne he decided to wear that day. You could never tell them apart, but you’d never tell him that.
After a minute or two he turned around in your arms and gently placed his hands on your face. 
“What would I do without you?”
“Not have the best tailored suits in New York City, at the very least.” You both chuckled and he placed a small kiss on your lips. “To be fair, I wouldn’t have the first clue how I would survive without you.”
“Well, for one you wouldn’t have the best kisser in New York City.” You let out a loud giggle and a few murmurs “oh really?” as he attacked your face with kisses of various weight. Finally, he left a passionate kiss on your lips, right where he started. He brushed a lock of hair out from in front of your face.
“What is a man without his best suit, anyways?”
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louroth · 11 months
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IT IS UPDATE TIME! For those of you who missed the dirty draft in the discord, the original play link has now been updated with 35 thousand words and two chapters sizzling with exposition, and heated rivalry. I'm so excited!
Here's what's new:
Before we start, it took some honest critique for something to click for me, plot wise. I have been meandering with the plot, partly because I had no idea what I was even doing, and part because I really wanted to meander around in this new medium. But, the plot I have planned is very high octane and epic in scale so I don’t want to bore you to death before we get to the good stuff.
So, don’t hunt me for sport when I tell you that (for the time being) I have removed the entire section of RO 101’s. I was so stubborn with shoehorning them in for the better part of a year, leading to writer's block and utter despair since it just wouldn’t fit; it wasn’t how you were supposed to learn about the RO’s. I have put them aside for now and tweaked Lenas scene once more so that it flows better- I am hemming and hawing over Id’s 101 because that one actually makes sense to have there, plotwise. It might go back in where it was, but I am still thinking about it.
Ok, for real this time though:
The scenes where you scream and your RO busts down the door Kool-Aid man style are there now.
A meeting with Oma and a blast from your [origin] past!
A whole chapter of lies and deceit, but it could literally be anyone lying. Careful who to trust.
Is that… [REDACTED]?? Surely not.
Another chapter where you get to choose your weapons and the way the Surge manifests with your hunter.
On topic of the surge, the magic in Ouro, it is now a default for all players; you can choose from 4 different classes. The Battlefrenzied Zealot, The Beastmaster, The Etherweaver or The Vox Psion. I had a terrible time writing the codexes for these classes, so some are partial and others missing, but if you continue you will experience them in actual action-scenes instead, weaponized. Don't forget to save! For now, each class comes with its own weapon, but I will add more whenever extra time strikes, or when the draft is done.  I am going to remind you as I remind myself: This draft will get rougher around the edges, a little bit messy, as I am going to try to just draft the whole thing without even looking back. It will make my life so much easier when it comes to figuring out key scenes and motivations. While I wrote quite slowly as I treated OUROBOROS as a hobby, now I am working on it, which means skipping content I cannot think of on the spot just to keep the ball rolling. If you don't want to read the alpha draft, please wait with reading until the edited twine demo is out. Thank you!!
Now, ENJOY!
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