#this was sitting in my drafts i just added a couple of things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fiveht · 2 months

Text

Proof of life (Adore pt 3)

Hello my sweet angel babies ♥️

I'm not going to be able to adequately express my gratitude for the steady stream of love (and concern, sorry) I've been receiving over the past couple of months. I'm so sorry I've been AWOL, it will definitely happen again. Because see, for me, I usually have to make a choice between social and creative fandom participation. My battery is small, and takes a long time to charge.

Thank you to everyone who's left comments and asks and DMs since I've been gone. I don't think I can respond to all of it, but rest assured those messages ping my cold, dead heart every time I see them.

So I'm gonna go out on a limb here. I did this same thing months and months ago, when I was working on Head Over Feet, and let me be clear: posting even a single word of a WIP goes against my every instinct and principle as an author. I am someone who likes to finish an entire story before I post any of it, and on top of that, I am NOT a fast writer, so the expectations that I'm setting up here might not be advisable. But I did it before and managed to finish the thing, and I want to give you guys something in exchange for being so unbelievably awesome, so here I am again.

This will probably be the only time I mention this story in public until it's finished and posted, and inquiries about my progress are unlikely to help with the writing process, I'm just saying. I reserve the right to change every last word of this before the final draft, and I also reserve the right to fall off the face of the planet and simply never finish it, as much as I will strive to prevent that from happening. Please be patient with me.

Anyway, here is my paltry offering to say thanks for the love: the (VERY rough) first ~1300 words of the third instalment of The Adventures of Soft Daddy and Danger Twink.

Sirius secures his handheld shower head to its holder at the edge of his clawfoot tub, and steps out carefully onto the bathmat. He shivers in the cool air outside the shower curtain; it's about twenty degrees below zero outside, so even if he could afford to run his ancient radiator at full blast, it probably wouldn't help much.

He dries himself off and checks his reflection in the mirror, turning his face this way and that as he tugs his hair out of the bun he'd piled it into to keep it dry during his shower. There's no need for makeup tonight, not when he's not even planning to put on clothes.

It's incrementally warmer when he steps out into the main room of his apartment. He gathers an array of splayed text books and notes from his bed and dumps them carelessly onto the couch, then closes his new laptop and places it delicately on the coffee table. It's the most expensive thing he owns, save for the Gucci backpack currently sitting in his wardrobe with a three-inch berth around it like his shoes and other bags might somehow contaminate it. It's weird owning rich-people stuff when you are still, objectively, broke as fuck.

He perches on the edge of his bed and sets his phone to charge, because his battery doesn't even last a day anymore, and he's going to need it this evening. He tucks it in next to his pillow and picks up his new toy.

The plug isn't much larger than the one he already has. A little longer, which is appealing, but no wider, so it shouldn't be a challenge to get it in comfortably. He disconnects it from its charger and hefts it in his hand, feeling the added weight from the electronics inside.

He picks up his phone, and hesitates when he sees the notification waiting for him.

Rieka: let's go out tomorrow

Rieka: the fact that we haven't been drunk since the term started is criminal

Rieka: we've had two chem labs and zero drinks

Sirius purses his lips, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. There's a fine line here, and he hasn't quite found it yet.

Me: got plans

Me: raincheck?

So complete avoidance is the best strategy, right?

Rieka: booooo 👎

He sighs, but at least she's not asking for an explanation. He opens a different conversation then, pushing all thoughts of Rieka Lupin into a tidy, sealed compartment, not to be opened during certain activities with a certain relative of hers.

Me: i'm ready

Me: are you in your office?

Daddy: Yup, I've got a few minutes

Daddy: Want me to call?

Instead of answering, Sirius hits the call button himself.

"Hey baby," Remus answers. His voice is already smooth and honey-sweet, and just from that, Sirius knows he's planning to lay it on thick tonight.

"Hi daddy," Sirius says with a smile. "Should I put it in now?"

There's a low chuckle over the line. "Are we feeling eager?"

"Always," Sirius says, laying back on his bed.

"Use the good lube I got you, it's gonna be in there a while."

He switches the call to speaker, and snags the bottle from his nightstand. "I threw out the old stuff, you've got me ruined for cheap lube."

"Only the best for that ass," Remus says, and Sirius can hear his smirk.

He gives the plug a liberal coating, running his fingers along its shape, his dick twitching just at the feel of the silky-smooth silicone, at the anticipation of what's about to happen. He spreads his legs wide, drawing one knee up to give himself easier access.

"Take it slow," Remus says, succinctly heading off Sirius' impulse to just shove the thing inside himself in one go. "Rub the tip against yourself, so you're nice and wet."

Sirius shuts his eyes as he obeys, sliding the slick end of the toy over his entrance. "Okay."

"Are you going to be a good boy for daddy tonight?"

"Uh-huh," Sirius says, teasing the very tip of the plug in and out of his hole.

"Tell me how."

"I'm not gonna touch."

"You're not gonna touch, and you're not gonna come."

"Yeah," Sirius says. His cock is starting to harden as his body tries to draw the plug inside. "Can I put it in, daddy?"

"Slow," Remus reminds him, "Slide it in nice and slow for me, baby."

Sirius catches his lip between his teeth and tries to push the plug in slowly, the way he knows Remus would do if he was here.

The shower has left him relaxed and more than ready, and it's hard not to take advantage, just press the toy in to its limit because he can. But he's working on his patience -- under Remus' careful tutelage -- so he shuts his eyes and tries to savour it, the tease of the plug's rubber tip at his entrance, the slow stretch as he eases it past the slight resistance before he sighs, and his body eagerly accepts the intrusion.

"Mmmm," Sirius sighs as he settles the base of the plug flush against his entrance, shifting his hips and feeling the constant, dull pressure against his prostate.

"How's it feel?"

"Good," Sirius says, splaying his legs out and just enjoying the pleasant fullness. It's been almost a week since Remus last fucked him, and that's just way too long. Christmas really spoiled him. He tugs the blankets up around him, because it's going to take some time before his body temperature is high enough to fight against the chill in his apartment.

"Have you tried out the settings at all?" Remus asks him, and Sirius picks up the phone, switching off speaker and holding it to his ear.

"No," he says, grinding his ass down against the bed to test the plug's reach inside him. "I thought you'd rather do the honours."

Remus hums, and Sirius hears the phone shifting in his grip. "I'm gonna turn it on, okay? Lowest setting."

"O--" Sirius stutters as the plug buzzes to life inside him, nestled snug against his prostate and sending little zings of pleasure down his legs. "Fuck that feels good. That's the lowest setting?"

"It is," Remus confirms. "Want to run through them all, see how high it goes? Or would you rather be surprised?"

"Mmmm, surprise me."

"Surprise it is," Remus says, and Sirius hears shuffling papers in the background as he prepares for his night class. Psychology 1001, Thursdays, 7-9:30PM. Two and a half hours of a lecture that Remus swears he's given so many times he could recite it in his sleep, so why not give himself something fun to focus on while he goes through the motions?

Being privy to all of this brilliant, upstanding man's secret perversions is a privilege Sirius does not take lightly.

"You can turn it off from the app if you need to," Remus is saying, "Or you can call me and I'll switch it off. My phone's on vibrate, so I'll see it right away."

Sirius smiles to himself. "Got it," he says, though this is a rehashing of the rules that Remus had laid out when he'd brought the plug over last weekend. He'd called it a "late Christmas gift", as if he hadn't already given Sirius several thousand dollars worth of presents on Christmas morning.

There's more rustling over the line, the squeak of a chair.

"Tell me again how you're going to be good tonight."

"I'm not gonna touch myself, and I'm not gonna come." The toy is still buzzing away inside him, making everything a little fuzzy at the edges.

"Tell me why."

"'Cause daddy's in charge, even when he's not here."

"Good boy."

Sirius squirms with pleasure, his cock smearing a little drop of fluid on his belly as the toy hums insistently at his prostate.

"I have to head out," Remus says. "How do you feel?"

"Good," Sirius says, his abs tensing as he shifts his legs and the angle of the toy changes. "Excited."

"Me too," Remus says softly. "I'll talk to you soon, beautiful. Send me some pictures." With a low beep, the call disconnects.

#and i disappear into the night once again #turned off anon asks for the time being #sorry i love you guys i'm just awkward

212 notes · View notes

pulisicsgirl · 8 months

Text

silence is deafening - mason mount

summary: after a fight with Mason digs up memories she'd rather forget, Y/N is left to deal with trauma from her past and decide if she will let Mason in

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 5.1k

warnings/tags: angst, hurt/comfort, couple fight, !! in-depth description of childhood trauma !!, lack of communication, supportive Mase, everything will eventually be okay-- you all know I can't write a sad ending, not proofread (I'm so sorry)

requested: yes!! here

notes: back with another request!!! This one has been sitting in my inbox for a LONG time!! I've had the draft halfway written for SO long, but couldn't decide how to finish it until I was struck with a bit of inspiration earlier this week! I hope you all enjoy it!!

You rested your elbow on the counter, forehead placed in the palm of your hand as you used the other to scroll and click through the numerous emails in your inbox. You had a big deadline coming up for your work, and it seemed that the brunt of the responsibility for it had fallen unexpectedly on your shoulders. As a result, your coworkers were coming to you with all of their questions, new emails popping up in your inbox every hour. So here you were, sitting at the bar in the kitchen, legs tucked under you as you continued to work even after arriving at home from a full day’s work.

Your boss had been on your case for a few weeks now for a reason unknown to you, which put you on edge each day that you went into work, nervous to step a toe out of line and be reprimanded, or worse, fired. You feared that this project could be the breaking point if it didn’t work out, which only added to your nervousness. You had never let a project like this fall apart before, but the anxious thoughts swirling around your mind convinced you that this would be the day that you failed.

You were just closing the browser to open a spreadsheet when you heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. You vaguely heard Mason call out into the house and the sound of his keys dropping into the bowl by the front door, too focused on your work to comprehend what he had actually said.

The nerves seemed to have settled in your chest like a heavy weight, pressing onto your diaphragm as your eyes flicked between the seemingly endless list of numbers and data on your screen. Your head was beginning to ache, and you imagined that this is what drowning would feel like.

You were pulled from your thoughts as two hands slipped around your waist as Mason pulled you tightly into his chest.

“How’s my baby?” Mason mumbled into your neck, pressing kisses to the skin there, and as much as you usually enjoyed being greeted this way, you were feeling overwhelmed by the sudden contact.

“ ’m okay,” you mumbled in reply, wiggling a bit to try to pull from his grasp, but Mason didn’t get the message, keeping your back pressed to his firm chest, continuing to place kisses on your neck and shoulders, his beard tickling your skin. “Mase, please…”

“What are you working on, sweetheart?” he mumbled softly, pressing his nose into your cheek.

“It’s just a thing for work. The deadline’s actually coming up pretty soon.” You tried prying his hands from your waist, beginning to feel suffocated, but Mason didn’t seem to notice. If he did, he ignored it. “So I really need to work on—”

“Come on, just give me five minutes,” he spun your chair toward him so he could see your face. Placing his hands on your cheeks, he began peppering kiss all over—your forehead, nose, cheeks, chin. “Haven’t seen you all day. I just wanna –”

“Mason please!” Something in you snapped and you pushed his hands away from you. “Why can’t you just leave me alone for two seconds! I’m trying to work! Can’t you see that?”

Mason stumbled back a couple of steps, caught off guard by your outburst. You never called him by his full name, and you certainly never shouted at him. A look of hurt washed over his face, the grin that had previously played on his lips falling into a frown, eyebrows drawn together, and you instantly regretted your words. You didn’t mean them, but you were overwhelmed and simply lost your cool.

“Mase, I’m sorry, I-“ You rose from your chair quickly to apologize to him, reaching a hand out toward him, but he was already halfway out of the kitchen by the time you could move in his direction. Your heart sank in your chest as you watched him round the corner, heading down the hallway.

You dropped yourself back into the chair, resting your head in your hands as your eyes began to sting with tears. If you thought you had felt miserable before, you had surely made it worse now. You cursed yourself for letting your stress get the better of you and letting your job come between you and Mason. The despair that you felt sat on your ribcage like a weight as a few tears slipped down your cheeks.

You decided maybe it was best to give Mason a bit of space before you tried to apologize. You knew you had hurt his feelings. He often expressed to you that he feared being too clingy or smothering the other person in his relationships, but you had always reassured him that you loved it, finding solace in his presence and his touch. Until today, when you had snapped at him for doing the very thing you told him brought you peace.

It truly wasn’t that you didn’t want him to touch you. In fact, in this moment, there was nothing you wanted more. You were feeling overwhelmed and had failed to communicate that.

With slightly puffy eyes you wiped the tear streaks from your cheeks, pulling your computer in front of you, determined to finish the work you had laid out for you so that you could spend the rest of your evening making it up to Mason. That proved difficult, though, with anxious thoughts about your relationship swirling around your head, now contributing to the anxiety you felt over your job.

You felt things getting progressively worse—your heart speeding up, the shaking in your hands getting more intense, and you were having trouble concentrating at all.

After about a half an hour, you heard Mason’s soft footsteps as his sock-clad feet padded down the hallway. Your heart skipped a beat, trying to quickly collect your thoughts so you could articulate to him just how sorry you were for what you had said and how you had acted.

But as Mason turned the corner into the kitchen, it was clear he hadn’t come to talk to you, not even sparing you a glance as he walked over to the fridge. Your voice caught on the lump in your throat, surprised by his cold demeanor.

“M-Mase?”

Your call to him was left unanswered as opened the refrigerator door, bending down to grab a bottle of water from the shelf. He uncapped the bottle, taking a drink from it as he walked back out of the room without a word.

Your lower lip wobbled, and you felt the tears welling up in your eyes. You closed your computer, knowing that you were going to get nothing more done, dropping your head to rest on your forearms on the countertop. You tried to muffle the sobs that shook your body, not wanting to guilt Mason into comforting you. You got yourself into this situation and would have to figure out how to deal with it.

It took another half hour for you to calm yourself, your crying finally ceasing. You took a few minutes, trying to make it appear as though you hadn’t spent the last 30 minutes crying in the kitchen before you decided to “pull up your big girl pants” and go find Mason.

You walked slowly and reluctantly down the hallway, first checking in your shared bedroom and finding both it and the ensuite bathroom empty. As you walked back into the hallway, you heard a noise coming from Mason’s gaming room and decided that must be where you’d find him.

You knocked softly on the door to alert him to your presence before you pushed the door open slowly. Mason was facing to your left, looking at the TV where he was playing FIFA, and only the side of his face was visible to you. Once again, he didn’t look toward you, focusing on his game without so much as a glance in your direction.

You took a couple of steps toward him, playing with your fingers in front of you as you moved to a position where you knew he could at least see you out of the corner of his eye.

“M-Mase? Can w-we talk?” Your voice was shaky as you spoke, but you took a deep breath, determined not to cry again. “Please?”

You waited, but there was no response. The clear shakiness of your voice earned a brief glance in your direction, but nothing more.

“Mason?”

Nothing.

All at once, a wave of emotions and painful memories hit you, the silent treatment from Mason taking you back to a time in your life that you had resolved to leave in your past.

Before you could stop it, a sob left your lips, and you clasped a hand over your mouth to silence it, rushing out of the room. You closed the door a little more harshly than you had intended to, soft cries leaving your lips as you raced down the hallway to find somewhere—anywhere—where you could get some fresh air and breathe for a moment.

Before you could even think, you had rushed to the front door, slipping on the trainers you had left there and grabbing your keys. You were out the door quickly, fighting back tears as you turned the keys in the ignition. You weren’t sure where you were even going to go, you just needed to find somewhere to be alone.

Almost as soon as you had left him alone in his gaming room, Mason knew something was really off. The two of you had fought before, but you had never reacted to it the way you had when you ran out of the room.

He had resolved to give you the cold shoulder, feeling hurt by the way you had pushed him away so harshly. But his concern for you outweighed his need to get you to apologize. He hadn’t been able to keep himself from glancing in your direction when your voice shook as you spoke. You had never sounded so afraid to address him, and that simple fact was eating away at him. He had soon after turned off the console, wandering out of his gaming room in search of you.

The house was eerily quiet as he moved through the hallway, checking in each room that he passed to see if you were there. When he entered the kitchen, noticing your computer lying closed on the countertop, he furrowed his brows. After not finding you anywhere else in the house, he had been sure you would be back in the kitchen, working on whatever it was that had you so stressed out.

Your shoes and keys missing from the walkway told him you had left, and he felt his heart sink a little. He had been hoping to find you and work this out quickly, hating the way he felt when there was distance between the two of you.

After debating whether to text or call to check on you, Mason settled on a quick text, afraid of suffocating you further. He wandered into the kitchen, aimlessly rummaging through the fridge and the cabinets as he waited for you to reply. He was restless, checking the screen of his phone every few seconds to see if a text from you had popped up, but nothing came through.

It wasn’t long before he threw caution to the wind, dialing your number without caring if you would be frustrated with him. The nerves caused by your brief argument and not knowing where you were was causing his worry to spike and he couldn’t keep himself from calling.

The line rang for several long moments before the automated voice began telling him you were unavailable.

He hung up, blowing air out in frustration and tossing his phone onto the counter before he plopped down in one of the chairs at the countertop. For a few moments, he just stared at the chair you had been sitting in when he had first arrived home—the place you had been sitting when you’d shouted at him.

His heart clenched in his chest at the recent memory. You had never reacted that way to him before, and it bothered him more than he cared to admit. The negative thoughts began to swirl in his mind, feeling like a cloud of despair.

He felt small. He felt like he was overbearing. He worried that you had grown sick of him and simply didn’t want him around anymore.

As tears sprung to his eyes, Mason’s level-headed side began to prevail.

Yes, you had never reacted that way to him before, so that had to mean that something had triggered it.

Everything had been fine when he’d cuddled up to you in bed that morning, and he was equally as touchy and clingy as the two of you had gotten ready for the day, so something had to have changed between then and when he got home.

As he wracked his brain to remember what you had been saying before you’d snapped at him, he realized he couldn’t really recall what you’d told him. He hadn’t really been paying attention, he realized.

He dropped his head into his hands, elbows resting on the countertop, as the shame washed over him. Perhaps this all could’ve been avoided if he’s just paid attention to what you had been trying to tell him.

With another sigh, Mason picked his phone up from where he had tossed it on the counter, dialing your number again.

And again, he was met with no response.

You hadn’t actually gone far on your drive, only making it about 10 minutes before you pulled off into a mostly empty parking lot, parked at the back where it was the most deserted, and broke down into sobs.

You felt silly for crying so much about receiving the cold shoulder from your boyfriend, but it had brought up so many memories and feelings you had done your best to repress.

The environment you had grown up in was… less than inviting. In your house, children were treated as more of a nuisance than a blessing. You were made to feel that unless you were bringing some sort of value to others, you didn’t deserve anything. Love was something that had to be earned, not something unconditional that was shared between a parent and child.

Silent treatment was something that your mother had often used to signal that she was upset with you. From a very young age, longer than you can remember, when she would begin to ignore you when you spoke to her or tugged at the hem of her shirt to get her attention, it meant you had to scramble to find a way to earn her love.

So, seeing Mason doing the very same had taken you right back to that time. You had once again felt like a young child, scrambling to prove that you deserved the love of another.

Of course, you realized that there was no way for Mason to know this would have bothered you the way it did. He knew that your relationship with your parents was now non-existent because of the circumstances of your upbringing, but he didn’t know the full extent of what they had put you through. You hadn’t gathered the strength to tell him all of those details yet.

So you had done the only thing you could think of to do in that moment, and you ran away—something you most certainly regretted now. But you didn’t want Mason to feel guilty for making you cry when you knew you had been in the wrong, so you sat in that empty parking lot for as long as it took you to calm yourself down.

You allowed yourself to sit there and feel miserable on your own for a while, but you knew you’d have to go back to face Mason soon. You knew he was probably worried, but you had turned your phone off after his first call came through. You felt even more guilty as a result, but you had been unable to deal with reassuring him of your safety at that moment.

It was dark outside by the time you walked back in the front door, closing it behind you quietly. You slipped your shoes off, placed your keys in the bowl, and hesitated a moment in the entry.

The soft jingle of your keys had alerted Mason to your presence, and he practically jumped up from his seat at the counter where he had remained the entire time, feeling miserable as he tried to call you nearly every 30 minutes.

Mere seconds passed before Mason darted quickly around the corner to find you standing there, still about 10 feet away from him.

His stomach sank to his feet at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. It was clear you had spent the entire time you were gone crying.

At the sight of him standing carefully at a distance, the feeling of guilt overwhelmed you, and tears sprung to your eyes.

“M-Mase, I’m so sorry, I-“ you stumbled over your words, the first tears spilling down your cheeks. “I shouldn’t have-“

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Mason was standing in front of you in an instant, cradling your face with his hands. His thumbs swiped over your cheeks, wiping away the tears that had fallen. “It’s okay, don’t worry. You-“

“No,” you asserted, shaking your head as you held onto his forearms to steady yourself. “No, it’s not okay, please let me apologize.”

Mason’s heart squeezed as you gazed up at him with wide eyes, and he could tell you were trying to stop your lower lip from quivering, but to no avail.

You took a deep breath, in through your nose and blowing the air out slowly through your mouth to try to gather yourself, wanting to be sure that you remembered every part of the apology that you had mentally composed on your way home.

“Mase, I’m so sorry for snapping at you,” you looked up at his face as you spoke, watching as he drew his brows together with a sad expression on his face. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did, and I shouldn’t have shouted. Work has been awful these last couple of weeks, and my boss has been giving me absolute hell. I think it all just built up.”

Mason nodded at you, and you could tell from his soft expression that he understood what you were saying.

You continued, “It’s not an excuse, I just want you to know that it wasn’t you that was bothering me. I just unfairly took my bad day out on you. I don’t feel like you’re too much—ever—I just… I needed a bit of space, and I should’ve just told you that.”

You could see his face physically relax as the relief washed over him, and you felt even more guilty knowing he had been sitting with those thoughts of self-doubt ever since you had left.

“I’m really sorry,” you finished with a whisper as Mason brushed his thumb softly over your bottom lip.

Without warning, Mason pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, making you feel completely enveloped by him—and the feeling was the greatest relief you could ever remember feeling. He buried his face in your neck, and you could feel a couple of warm tears against your skin.

The two of you stood there in the entryway, clinging onto each other like you’d vanish into thin air if you let go. Mason’s hot breath fanned against your neck, and you closed your eyes, drinking in the feeling of being so close to him.

“Thank you,” Mason whispered after a few moments. “Thank you for talking to me.”

You squeezed him in response.

“And I’m sorry for being so childish,” he pulled his face back, still holding you in his arms. “I shouldn’t have just ignored you like that. I should have told you how I was feeling, too.”

You brought your hand up to cradle his cheek, pressing a smile to your lips despite the your eyes still being wet with tears.

“It’s okay, Mase, you couldn’t…” you hesitated for a moment, struggling with the idea of opening that part of yourself up to him. But you knew it was a conversation that was well overdue, so you pushed out of your comfort zone. “You couldn’t have known that it would bother me so much.”

Mason remain quiet, turning his head to place a gentle kiss on the skin of your palm, sensing that you had more to say.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Um… so y-you know that my relationship with my parents really fell apart after I was able to move out, and… um…”

You hesitated, feeling frustrated with yourself for struggling to open yourself up. Here Mason stood—the perfect boyfriend, really. He had never judged you for any of your struggles or for anything from your past. He had been nothing but supportive and compassionate since you had first met him. Despite all of this, those nagging thoughts that you weren’t deserving of it all would persist no matter how hard you tried to push them away.

As Mason realized that this was becoming a conversation that would likely require a lot of time, he pulled away from you slightly, taking both of your hands in his as he led you to the living room. He sat down on the couch, opening his arms up to you so you could sit however you felt most comfortable, wanting to put your troubled mind at ease however he could.

Feeling a desperate need to remain close to him, you wound up placing yourself on Mason’s lap, facing him with your knees settled on either side of his hips. Your arm naturally found their place wrapped loosely around his neck, and he placed his hands on your hips, alternating between brushing his thumbs against your waist and rubbing his hands over your thighs.

You took a minute to compose yourself again, staring at the front of Mason’s t-shirt as you didn’t feel confident enough to look him in the eye. Mason remained quiet, continuing his gentle pattern over your legs as he allowed you to have that moment. He could tell that there was a lot weighing on you, even beyond the stress that your job had been causing you.

When you were able to gather your thoughts, you began speaking softly, and you told Mason everything.

You told him about your childhood and the nature of the relationships you’d had with your parents. You told him about the sudden changes in your mother’s disposition and how she would be happy one moment and hateful toward you the next. You explained your long history with the “silent treatment” and how you now realized that was a trigger for you. You were honest with him about the uncertainty that you felt about yourself and about your relationships as a result of this kind of upbringing.

“My mother, she… actually reached out to me last week,” you mumbled. By the time you had finished recounting your life story to Mason, you had cast your eyes down to your lap where you were playing with your fingers, unable to bring yourself to look at his face. “It’s the first time she’s done that since I left home years ago. I don’t really feel like I’m ready to reply to her yet, but I think it’s just dug up a lot of feeling and memories that I tried to bury for so long.”

Mason’s silence as you stopped speaking only made you more nervous. Hesitantly, you looked up to his face, but the pity you expected to find in his eyes was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, Mason had a look of pure admiration in his eyes.

“Please say something, Mase.”

He brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing your skin gently as he gave you a tearful smile.

“You’re so incredibly strong, Y/N.”

His reply took you by surprise, as, for seemingly the hundredth time that night, tears spring to your eyes.

“Really?” your voice shook as you spoke.

He nodded. “You went through all of that, and you’re still the kindest soul I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.”

You couldn’t stop the sob that left your lips as you fell forward into Mason, tucking yourself into his chest. His arms immediately were wrapped around your body, your shoulders shaking as you cried into his neck.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there. Your cries eventually diminished into soft sniffles as you remained with your face tucked into Mason’s neck. He slowly trailed his fingers over your back, rubbing soothing shapes and patterns, and after all of the crying and how emotionally drained you felt after reliving the trauma of your past, you felt like you could fall asleep right there.

When you had finally settled a bit more, Mason enveloped you in his arms again, squeezing you gently as he pressed a kiss into your hair.

“Thank you, Y/N,” his voice was no higher than a whisper. “Thank you for telling me all of that.”

Lacking the energy to reply in that moment, you shifted slightly so that you could place a kiss on his collarbone in a silent thanks for listening and understanding you on a level that no one else ever had.

You sat there for a while, allowing yourself to just relax into your boyfriend’s body as he held you. As you rested there, you knew that there was nowhere else in the world that you’d rather be.

Feeling your muscles soften and noticing that your eyes had slipped closed, Mason knew you would soon fall asleep and decided that the two of you should go on up to bed.

He shifted you off of his lap gently, trying to disturb your peace as little as possible. He stood, bending over to pick you up from the couch, and carried you bridal style toward the stairs and up into your shared bedroom.

He took you into the ensuite bathroom and placed you gently on the counter. After grabbing the skincare products he had observed you using over the many nights that you had spent together, he set out, following your nighttime regimen as closely as he could remember. He took a couple of cotton pads, dampening them with your cleanser and swiping them over your cheeks, forehead, and nose. He pumped a bit of the moisturizer on his fingers and gently rubbed it into your skin. Your eyes slipped closed, and his soft touch nearly lulled you back to sleep, sitting there on the countertop.

Mason only left you alone for a moment as you brushed your teeth and he wandered into the bedroom. You could hear him moving around but didn’t have the energy to find out what he was doing. Just as you had finished rinsing out your mouth in the sink, he reappeared behind you, having changed into a loose pair of joggers and discarding his shirt, sliding his arms around your waist as you stood up straight.

You relaxed back into Mason’s touch, pressing your back into his bare chest and letting your head fall back onto his shoulder.

For a moment you stood there, drinking each other in. Mason swayed you gently back and forth as he pressed his cheek to the side of your head, his body radiating warmth from behind you. With your eyes closed, you focused on the feeling of him pressed up against you, arms holding you securely as the gentle pace of his swaying calmed the remainder of the racing thoughts in your mind.

Even with your eyes closed, you could feel the tears springing to them as you thought of how thankful you were to have Mason in your life—how thankful you were that he was your person. You had always known that he was someone special, even from the first moment that you met him. But now, having explained to him the entirety of your childhood and all of the difficulties that came with it, you just felt that much close to him and that much more appreciative if who Mason was.

Kind, forgiving, understanding, gentle—you could have gone on for the rest of the night listing all of the characteristics that made Mason the most perfect man you’d even known.

You twisted in Mason’s hold, tucking your face into his neck so he wouldn’t see the tears spilling over once again. You folded your arms between your bodies as he held you close, allowing him to completely envelop you in his hold.

After another moment, Mason placed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Come on, love. Let’s get to bed.”

You nodded, shivering from the cold as he unwrapped his arms from you.

You followed him back into the bedroom, noticing that the sheets had been pulled back, the pillows arranged just how you liked them, and the shirt that Mason had previously been wearing just before was folded on your side of the bed. Your heart warmed at the small acts of service Mason had done for you.

After you’d undressed yourself, slipping Mason’s t-shirt over your head, you crawled into the bed and placed yourself right next to Mason, who was now clad in only his boxers. He pulled the sheets and the duvet up, tucking them over your bodies before he lay down and pulled you into his arms.

With Mason’s arm wrapped around your body, you lay with your head on his bare chest, listening to the soft and steady beating of his heart. It only took a few seconds of you laying there before Mason had slipped his hand under the hem of your shirt, trailing his fingers over your back and reveling in the feel of your skin against his. Your legs were tangled under the sheets as the two of you lay in silence, content to be completely wrapped up in one another.

The silence was only broken as you whispered into the night air a few moments later. “Thank you, Mase. For everything.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his chest.

“Anything for you, my love,” he replied softly, squeezing your shoulders. “Anything at all.”

tag list: @landoslover @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @mm-vii @10vnderhaze

Feedback is always appreciated!!!

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #footballer fic #footballer imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount blurb

708 notes · View notes

chaoscharme · 3 months

Text

Self Care Activities that Actually Help

My list of practical, achievable and useful self care tips that will actually improve your mood instead of enabling you to wallow.

Reply to your correspondence

Often if we feel low or our motivation is down, we find it tricky to respond to messages and calls from others. This allows unopened messages to pile up which creates stress and even panic. Instead of trying to ignore this problem, set a timer for 15 minutes. Then give yourself those 15 minutes to respond to as many of those messages as possible, starting with the most urgent messages first. If you cannot complete all the messages, take a minute to reevaluate. Can you give yourself another 15 minutes to finish the task today? If not, that’s fine. Assign the task for tomorrow, and repeat the process when you feel refreshed. If you are not able to give a thorough response to all of your contacts, I recommend drafting a universal message to send, stating that you are currently occupied and you hope to offer them a more appropriate message over the coming days. You can tailor this message to suit your needs and circumstances, and it reduces the amount of pressure on you to offer explanations for your absences.

Wash your clothes

Take the clothes you are wearing off. All of them. Strip your bed. Gather up any towels or tea cloths you can find. Wash them all. I cannot overstate the benefit of living in a clean environment, and wearing clean clothes. Even if you can’t wash everything, wash the essentials, and make sure you are wearing fresh clothes from head to toe. You can swap pyjamas out for more pyjamas, what you wear doesn’t matter. Just make sure they’re clean.

Water

Drink a pint of water with nothing added, no fruit, no cordial, nothing. Just drink a pint of water in one sitting. You are almost definitely dehydrated, just like everyone else. Hydration provides mental clarity, energy, and even relives stress. It reduces pains and aches in the body. It helps quell nausea and heartburn. Water is the quickest and easiest way to reduce physical pain or discomfort throughout the day. By keeping hydrated, you’re improving your quality of life almost instantly.

Stretch in bed or on the sofa

The last thing most of us want to do when we feel low or unmotivated is going for a run, or working out at the gym. Instead of pushing yourself to get a serious or intense workout in, try some stretches you can do from the comfort of your bed or sofa. Stretches will help relieve tension in the body and can increase your energy throughout the day. You don’t have to do anything crazy, just a couple of simple, effective stretches will do the trick.

Eat a “healthy” carb

People so often try to avoid eating carbs as they think carbohydrates are inherently unhealthy. This is simply not the case. While carbohydrates are often used in the production of unhealthy treats such as cakes, cookies and pies, they are not fundamentally bad for you. Carbs are our main source of energy, and if you’re feeling low energy is exactly what you need. Try eating a healthier alternative to those instant sugar rush carbs, such as rice, wholemeal pastas or breads, potatoes or oats. You can add other ingredients to these meals, such as berries to oats or some veg to pasta, to make a more filling meal. Everyone eats differently, but we all need carbohydrates in our diet to provide energy and nutrition, alongside other food groups. Creating a balanced diet is much more important than eating “healthy” all the time. Respect your body by fuelling it appropriately and regularly.

Clean yourself as best you can

Have a shower. Take your makeup off. Brush your hair. Clip your nails. Put deodorant on. Brush your teeth. Wash your hands. You might not have the energy for a full “everything shower” but you can probably do one of the things listed above to make yourself feel better about yourself and your hygiene. Don’t berate yourself if you’ve gone a while without practicing any of these for a while, life can be pretty difficult. Just accept your current situation and try to better it as best you can with the energy you now have.

Please reach out to a trusted person or a qualified professional if you feel you need extra support for any reason. You are not alone and you do not need to suffer in silence. Support is there.

Mwah, Chaoscharme

208 notes · View notes

chaoticbardlady99 · 3 months

Text

Maryë (Astarion x GN! AFAB Reader) MDNI 18 +

Synopsis: Astarion left to explore the world and himself following the death of the Netherbrain. You remain in Baldur’s Gate with your brother, Gale, resigning yourself to your fate as Astarion’s friend until you die. Until one day, you and Astarion begin to write letters back and forth. Except there is one letter in particular that you suspect isn’t from Astarion…

CW: minimal mentions of violence, smut, Oral (Female Receiving), PIV, Tav’s also just an oblivious idiot who apparently doesn’t think very hard about words (it’s me, I’m Tav the idiot and this is like my Fiancé and I’s friendship prior to ya know, dating lmfao)

Author note- I might also write this in AMAB! Format, but I need to do some… research first for accuracy. This is lightly edited and just some silly little thought I had. I wanted to write something not so detailed for once while I work on my drafts for Lethal Woman and She’s Not Acid Nor Alkaline. Also def stole a line from Tolkien and added to it at the end (this is me crediting).

You’ll either love this or hate this idk.

The title literally translates to Home in Elvish.

Photo belongs to idk who so please reach out if it’s yours!

As always- likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, I am just terrible at responding.

Tav,

As much as I enjoy our current form of communication- I was wondering if I could come to see you in person.

I have so much I need to say to you and I want to be able to do it in person- the proper way.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours,

Astarion

You sit and stare at the letter like you have been doing for the last week since you received it. Unlike your half-brother, Gale, you are not one for words. It was hard to respond to Astarion’s letters initially until Gale “doctored” your responses- often putting whatever silly accomplishment you have achieved lately or stories Gale found interesting from your recent solo adventures.

“Are you going to write the letter or are you hoping it’s going to write itself?” Gale teases.

You scowl at him and shake your head.

“I don’t know what to write back.”

“I could come up with a couple things!” Gale clears his throat, “‘ Oh Astarion- I’ve missed you terribly this whole time! I regret telling you that we should be friends until you figure things out! Despite my VERY WISE BROTHER’S ADVICE TO NOT DO THAT! I wait like a lovesick puppy at the mailbox every week hoping a letter may arrive!’”

You roll your eyes at him and throw one of his many decorative couch pillows at his head. He certainly has your mother’s flair for the dramatic. However, you can’t necessarily say he’s wrong- you have been nothing less than a smitten school girl waiting for letters non-stop.

Astarion had gone back to the Underdark after the last battle with the Netherbrain. He told you that he wanted to go and explore who he is- the world too.

You had been as enthusiastic as you could about the decision considering you had come up to him at the party with a letter in your hands asking if he would like to continue traveling with you after this- you had been too scared to say it outloud. A part of you hoped it may allow your romance to blossom without the impending threat of death at every corner. Well, if he still harbored any feelings for you at all.

You had merely smiled and told him how excited you are for him. It answered the silent question that had been there- was there still room in Astarion’s heart for you after you said you should just be friends and try again later?

The answer was ‘no’, despite Gale’s perplexed face and lecture when he found out you gave the spawn a send off with a ‘long’ hug (he made you describe it in detail). You refuse to give yourself any hope- you will remain a dutiful friend since you resigned yourself to this fate.

Then you received a Sending spell with him requesting your address and the letters began. You squealed like a schoolgirl when the first one came in and ripped it open enthusiastically. You didn’t realize Gale was home, otherwise you wouldn’t have read it out in the open- Tara snitched on you!

You had only truly met Gale around a couple months prior to your mutual abduction. Your mother had asked you to assist a brother you never knew about in finding magical artifacts- you quickly learned it was because the man was becoming a damn recluse.

You had worried he’d slam the door in your face or turn you into a sheep for all of eternity- the minute you told him your name was Tav Dekarios, he pulled you in for a hug and told you he had been awaiting your arrival. Gale was thrilled to know that, like him, you were also a prodigy in your craft.

You are a virtuoso master with any instrument you touch and you cast spells that are almost far too good to be true. You became Oghma’s Chosen in your teen years after spending many years practicing under his mentorship (which is why you and Gale had a very weird, serious talk one night about how Mystra is kind of a fucking pedophile) and that allowed you to do incredible things.

Your notes could create shimmery images and tell stories- Arabella and the other tiefling children (even the very tough Mol) enjoy coming over and watching war tales be told with nothing but a drum and a rain stick. Sometimes you let them tell tales and you come up with a tune to match it- eventually finding a rhythm to put your mind into and create the picture.

It was one of the many things Astarion mentioned in his note- he stated that none of the other Bards even begin to hold a candle to your talent. You blushed deeply when you read the line.

He told you about everything he had seen, everyone he had met, what he’s found out about himself, and shockingly enough- how much he misses you. It had taken you by total surprise, but you responded saying you missed him too.

Pet names began to flow easily into inked lines and it felt like you had a tiny part of him back in your life- your friendship is still as strong as it was before he left.

The letters have quickly become the best part of your week and occasionally you’ll read them with Arabella. She ooos and awwws, then attempts to bully you into tell Astarion your feelings. You cast a mini rain shower over her head with a few poetic words for the suggestion. You don’t want to ruin what you have and there is always the possibility that he found someone else.

However, you weren’t unsure of this particular note because you didn’t want to see Astarion- you would love that. The issue is that it doesn’t look like his handwriting, it isn’t the paper he uses (he’s ridiculously particular), and it doesn’t flow. Gale thinks you are over analyzing it, but you are pretty sure that this isn’t Astarion’s writing. He also addresses you as “Darling” not Tav and signs the letter of with “‘Órenya ná órelya” (my heart is your heart) not “Yours”.

You’ve waited for another note to come in since, but nothing has. You are beginning to wonder if Gale is right and you really are just being paranoid.

“I already told you, Gale,” you say with annoyance, “something isn’t right about this note. I don’t think this is from him which is worrisome because that means I haven’t heard from him in two weeks WHICH could MEAN-“

“For the love of Gods- TAV,” Gale yells, effectively shutting you up, “my young, oblivious little sibling. Just say yes and let him come visit.”

*********************************************************

It had been two days since you sent the sending stone and there was no response. Not that it would have mattered anyway considering you are somewhere in the Underdark in a very beautifully lit cave. Neon, blue veins of magic run through the rock. The pathway is lit with glowing flowers and…. Benches?

It had all happened so fast. One moment you were walking home from the market and the next- Astarion had come up to you from an alleyway and said he needed help. He had told you that he would love to catch up, but there is an injured child around the corner and since he can only stay in the shadows, he needs you to help them. Before you knew it- someone hit you with a sleep spell and the last thing you remember seeing is stars as your head slammed into the pavement. Oh and a, “oooooffff my bad” before you blacked out.

You blink your eyes a few more times, trying to figure out what in the wretched hells is going on.

“Oh for the love of- I told you to talk to Oghma’s Chosen! Not kidnap her and give her a serious concussion!”

A hazy, short figure comes into your vision. Is that…. a Deep Gnome?

“You told us it was imperative for the wedding! We intercepted the real letter and wrote this one,” another Gnome says, “and it worked! They showed up and everything! We’ve been watching since you told us to talk to her two weeks ago! We were running out of time for talking and bargaining so we just-“

“Kidnapped them!” the man yells, “you kidnapped them!? You- you imbeciles! They are supposed to want to perform for the wedding- you had at least six more hours! AND I GAVE YOU TWO WEEKS!”

“But Walby-“

Walby.

You know Walby! He and Barcus have been dating for a while now and the two are over the moon smitten. You are very happy for Barcus- this man is everything Wulbern could never be.

“No! I have had enough of your silliness! Leave me at once!”

You hear the three Gnomes that supposedly ambushed you walk off in angry huffs. A flash of healing magic fills the air and your head is finally clear- your ears no longer ringing like a triangle.

“My apologies, Ms.Dekarios,” Walby, says, “I wanted them to give you an invitation to come to Barcus’ and I’s wedding this afternoon, but as you heard, they are not the brightest bunch.

“It’s a very last minute ceremony- my mother is ill and she wants to see her ‘baby’ get married before she goes. We wanted to wait another year to plan, but oh you know how it goes!”

Walby looks at you sheepishly as you blink a few more times and let his words sink in. You look at the man and try not to throw up from sitting upright. You must have been out for a while, but not in a “oh that was a wonderful beauty nap” kind of way. You are pretty sure you have a decent amount of blood caked to the side of your head and neck right now.

“Oh, well in that case,” you offer a good natured smile, “I’ll consider this the most unique wedding invitation I’ve ever received and one I may not even have the privilege of remembering.”

The man laughs heartily as you stand up and brush your clothing off. You’re glad you wore a nicer outfit today and decided to bring your violin along- Oghma must have wanted to make sure you were prepared.

“I also wanted to ask a favor,” he says meekly, “if I haven’t fallen out of your good graces before I even stepped foot in them- that is.”

You smile and just roll your eyes.

“Consider it water under the bridge. How can I be of service?”

“Well, you see- we had asked an acquaintance of ours to play music and uh. There’s no easy way to put this, but he was run over by a herd of Deep Rothé.”

“Hmm,” you say with a snort, “tough crowd- Deep Rothés.”

Ultimately, you agreed to perform for the ceremony and the little dinner party afterwards. Your music decorated the air with golds and silvers. Barcus was thrilled to have you there and thanked you immensely for allowing his mother-in-law to “witness true magic” before she leaves this plane.

By the time you were finally leaving- you hear two very familiar voices scream your name and come barreling towards you.

*****************************************

Astarion and Gale are practically sprinting as they try to track your location through the streets of Baldur’s Gate. They had just found a large spot of your blood sticking to the cobblestone and leading to the sewer. Astarion feels sick when he notices the path leads back into the Crimson Palace. Thankfully it was through the sewer and straight to the tunnel of the Underdark.

He had sent you a letter a few days ago and he had confessed his feelings. Instead of waiting for you to respond like a sane person, Astarion got the hell out of the inn he was staying at and began the four day trek to Baldur’s Gate. The nice part about traveling alone and not needing to breath is that Astarion could run from place to place if he was in a hurry or was just fed up with traveling already.

Astarion quickly learned that it was boring to be alone and it’s far more fun to share adventures with you. He also learned that he might be a semi-decent person on his own because, in spite of being without your physical presence, he continues to fucking help people. Astarion is really over this whole moral compass thing (it only extends so far though, he’s still a proud Bastard at heart).

When he arrived at your home about an hour and a half ago, Gale had informed him that you had gone out to the Market and was confused when Astarion said his letter shouldn’t have arrived yet. It took longer than usual to write for… reasons.

Gale showed him the note you received and the two of them pieced together that someone had definitely set up a trap- just not a very good one. Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose when Gale told him that you definitely figured out the letter wasn’t from him, but Gale encouraged you to respond anyway.

A part of him is incredibly worried that some of the remaining Bhaal cultists have taken you since they are the only people he could think of that would be able to mimic his form. His stomach still turns when he thinks about the time they realized Orin had taken you. This is giving him the same queasy feeling.

So imagine his and Gale’s surprise when you are walking away from some random spot seemingly unscathed. Except Astarion won’t believe that until he has inspected you for injuries himself.

You look positively shell-shocked to see him and even more surprised when he’s taking your face gently in his hands and begins to check for injuries.

“Are you alright, Darling?” He says in a far more panicked voice than he means to, “we found blood- I thought the worst and your idiot brother! Of course that letter wasn’t from me! I have class, my Dear! I would never use that paper and WHY IN THE HELLS WOULD YOU FOLLOW ME OF ALL PEOPLE!?”

He knows his ‘rage’ doesn’t sound like rage- it sounds like a man who thought his only love had been on the brink of death only moments ago. Astarion is trying to keep a serious face, but the adoration and love in your eyes when you look at him is making him want to dissolve. He’s thrilled to see that after a whole year of not being together that your feelings haven’t waivered. Neither have his, obviously, but that’s why he’s here.

“I will say, Tav,” Gale says with exasperation, “you even gave Tara a fright- you should be expecting a very long lecture when we get home.”

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you say with a beaming smile, your eyes never leaving Astarion’s, “but I do have quite the story if you would like to hear it?”

Astarion’s grin stretches across his entire face.

“I think a good story, better company, and some wine would make for a fine evening, my Dear.”

“Gross!” Gale says, “but I’ll tag along for some wine.”

Oh dammit.

****************************

If Astarion wasn’t so busy feasting upon you- then he probably would have already hunted down those stupid Gnomes that gave him a fright and found a windmill to fling them from. Gale had left only 15 minutes ago, but Astarion had made quick work in getting you up to his room and having his way with you.

The minute Gale left, the conversation became flirty and teasing- all the want that has been pooling in his body is finally getting the release it needs. You, like always, are a sight to behold.

Your back arches when his tongue drags along your clit and Astarion pushes your hips down into the mattress as your arousal paints his lips. Your moans and desperate cries of pleasure are so delicious and his cock is painfully hard, straining against his leather pants.. He is fighting between taking his time and being selfish- chasing his own pleasure inside of you.

The moment you clench around his fingers is the same moment he unlaces his own pants and begins to remove them. You keen and whine underneath him- Astarion’s name sounds the best coming from you in this state.

Astarion should be a gentleman, hypothetically, and maybe give you a half a second to be a little less dazed from your orgasm. Except Astarion isn’t a gentleman and he isn’t patient- at all.

Astarion lifts your hips up to his until the head of his cock is aligned with your entrance and he thrusts himself inside of you. You immediately wrap your legs around his hips with a yelp of pleasure and your eyes flutter wildly as you take his whole length. Astarion smiles down at you as he slowly rocks in and out of you.

Your fingers find their way to his hair and you pull Astarion’s face down to yours- stunning him with a mind numbing kiss. He snaps his hips at the sensation and the moan you let out causes whatever resolve he had to break. Astarion releases the hold you have on his lips and kisses along your jaw up to your ear.

“Did you like that, my Love?”

You hum in approval and try to pull his mouth back to yours. He interrupts you by thrusting into you two more times with more power than the first one.

“Asta-,,” you attempt to say his name between thrusts, “Astarion please.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Pet,” he teases, “I don’t even know if I know what you like anymore- maybe you don’t even like thi-“

Your legs tighten around his hips as he goes to pull completely out of you. Astarion quirks his eyebrow at you with a smirk as you look at him with desperation.

“I more than liked it- I loved it,” you whisper with your cheeks burning from your shyness.

Oh and how Astarion loves your shyness. His hands fist the sheets as he starts his agonizingly slow rhythm inside of you again- whimpers falling from deep within your chest.

“See, Darling,” Astarion says as his face falls into the crook of your neck, “that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before Astarion’s hips begin to pick up speed and his mouth covers yours. As much as he loves to hear you moan- he doesn’t care to share that experience with any of the patrons that had been obviously checking you out while you were catching up.

Astarion groans against your lips as he continues to fuck you relentlessly- his fangs nip at your lower lip and lap at the tiny droplets of blood that seep from the punctures.

You are a mess underneath him and you feel incredible in every way possible. Astarion never wanted this to stop in the first place- back when he had told you his feelings and you said it would be best to be friends for the time being.

Perhaps that’s what causes him to slow down and kiss you deeply- making up for the lack of speed with more force. One of his hands trails along your chest and begins to tease your sensitive nipples- your walls clench around him hard when he begins to pinch and roll the right one and your orgasm coats him as he moves to play with the left.

You kiss him sloppily and he’s lazily thrusting into you- his own Little Death following yours within seconds. Astarion collapses on top of you as he begins to soften inside of you. The smell of you and him mixed together is intoxicating and your heartbeat is hammering from the pleasure- your eyes glassy and tired with bliss. He laughs breathily before placing a kiss on your swollen lips.

Astarion lifts you up ever so slightly so that he can pull the blanket down and over you, then he adjusts himself and you so that you are curled up with your ear pressed against his chest. He strokes your hair absentmindedly and you lightly draw shapes on his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” you say sleepily, “I’ve missed you so much.”

I’ve missed you too, Darling,” Astarion says while pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m happy to be home.”

“Oh I’m sure Baldur’s Gate is-“

“You are my home,” Astarion interrupts you, “I’ve come to realize that wherever you are is where I want to be.”

You look up at him with tears in your eyes and happiness in your heart.

“But what about exploring your new life and all of that jazz?”

“Darling, I wouldn’t have a life if it weren’t for you,” Astarion states, “you helped me kill Cazador and break the cycle of ongoing abuse. You gave me life so I could live it and I want to live it with you. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with just being friends and holding back my feelings. I want to share my life with you.

“I know this may all seem very fast, but” Astarion grabs his pants off the ground and he feels his stomach turn as he pulls the box out of his pocket, “I know I love you- that’s probably the only thing I’ve ever been sure of in my entire 239 years of existence. I- I wanted to know if you would… marry me?”

Your lips are on his within seconds and the two of you become entangled in soft kisses until you have to pull back for air. You lean your forehead against his and meet his gaze.

“I love you so much, Astarion. Yes- yes I will marry you,” you say tearfully, “I want to share my life with you too.”

166 notes · View notes

jamilelucato · 5 months

Text

a little visit (fred weasley)

pairing: y/n x fred weasley summary: in the wizarding war's aftermath, (y/n) unexpectedly reunites with Fred Weasley at the Weasley Jokeshop. notes: so this is something that has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I thought to upload it even though I do not plan any sequence whatsoever (I'm sorry) warnings: war mention; maybe a bit sad; no kisses here, sorry.

It hadn't been years since she saw the Weasley twins. Well, maybe a couple of years. Five? After the war, dates were a mess. People were trying to reorganise their lives and move on from the losses. It wasn't the time yet for reunions, but this one happened.

"Come on, take me in," the child begged.

(y/n) looked down at her little nephew. She had an older brother (alive still, thank Merlin), but the man was working his ass off to reconstruct his house, and so, more often than not, (y/n) would babysit for his little boy. The kid was six and full of opinions; most of it (y/n) endured with a smile. But there was a spirit of troublemaking in the little boy's ways, and (y/n) should've known better than to take him through Diagon Alley, especially where the Weasley Jokeshop was.

"Urgh," she sighed. "You have ten minutes, but it's just it."

And before the little boy was too out of range to hear, she added, "And I'll only buy you one thing! Pick well!" But even warning him, (y/n) presumed the boy would find a way to try and get more items than necessary.

Knowing she should not leave her nephew alone in the enormous store, (y/n) entered it right after, sighing. The whole place was so Gryffindor. Of course, the owners had once been Gryffindor students, but it was weird to see they hadn't broken out of the patterns, the reds, the gold. (y/n) had been a Slytherin, but nothing about her nowadays gave it away. Or so she thought.

She was so distracted by the items and the colours that she barely noticed the man approaching her until they bumped midway. "I'm so sorry, miss," he answered automatically.

"No, I… I…" her voice dried off when her eyes met his. "I apologise."

He smiled instantly at recognising her. "That's a first."

"Hello there, Fred Weasley," or so she thought he was Fred. George and his twin were alike and identical, but there was something about the smiles Fred offered her back at Hogwarts… they were always so mischievous.

George had a collective way of smiling. It was more put together, she thought, as if in effort. Fred's smiles were more involuntary, often making his face crooked.

"What's a first?" (y/n) asked, noticing the man kept grinning but failed to offer her a proper response. "Me apologising or me at your shop?"

"Both," he replied, and even though (y/n) had no way of knowing, she guessed he had only thought of one of the alternatives, but they both fell so well he accepted them. "Hello, (y/n)."

"Ah, he does remember my name," she replied, smiling just as mischievously as he had.

"I must. Few people can tell me apart from Georgie. The least I can do is acknowledge the ones that do," Fred shrugged, dismissing the fact that he remembered her as nothing. But it wasn't nothing to her. "By the way, how can you still tell us apart? We haven't talked…."

"Since Hogwarts? Since the war?" she gasped after saying the last part. People weren't yet supposed to be referring to "the war". It had been a brutal, dark time for the wizarding community, and it was too soon to mention it so casually as if it had been just another Tuesday.

But Fred seemed not to give proper care to her calmness.

"I have my tricks, Weasley," she answered in the end, shrugging. "You don't tell me all of yours; why should I tell you all of mine?"

He smiled again, but more lightly this time.

"Well…" he cleaned his throat, changing his tone to a more businesslike one. "What can I do for you today, Miss?"

She supressed a smile of embarressement. "A discount?"

He couldn't help the small chuckle he let out.

"I'm here with my little nephew, Rick. I'm sure he'll want something out of my budget," (y/n) finally explained as her eyes wandered the place, looking for said kid. But she did not find him.

"Well, good thing the kid is relative to one of my dearest school friends," Fred said, tilting his head.

"Dearest?" she echoed.

Fred shrugged, dismissing it. In a second of conversation, he had done it twice. It was starting to bother (y/n).

"Let's see what the little guy wants," Fred proposed. "Where's he?"

(y/n) grimaced. "If only I knew."

"You're his aunt." Fred pointed out categorically.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"You brought him here."

"Yep," she agreed again, monotonely.

Fred raised a dark red brow at her.

"I'm sure he'll find me once he gets what he wants," (y/n) said as she crossed her arms. Noticing that was the end of their rapid quest to find her nephew, (y/n) changed the subject. "How's momma Weasley?"

She had met the woman twice. Once, back at Hogwarts, when she was a simple student girl. Mrs Weasley had shown up to see Harry Potter compete at the Triwizard Tournament, and when she went to hug her sons, (y/n) was casually by. The second time was again at Hogwarts, but this time (y/n) was already a graduate, and Mrs Weasley was much more of a warrior than a mother. The scenario didn't allow them to interact, but (y/n) saw enough of the boys' momma.

"She's doing okay," Fred replied, his eyes wandering around as if he was conjuring the image of his mother before him. "Haven't seen her in a while, frankly. After the war, she kinda became too worried about us, which gets annoying."

"Well, she almost lost you." And there it was, (y/n)'s slip. She knew it was bound to happen — it was the actual last time she saw Fred Weasley. She just hoped it wouldn't be mentioned so soon in their conversation. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."

Fred raised a hand as if stopping her apology. "It's true; you haven't got to be sorry about that," he said. "I did scare everyone, didn't I?"

"Worst prank ever."

That comment made him grin. "It wasn't a prank; I was on the brink of death," he tried defending himself, but he was smiling too much to be convincing.

"Ewh," (y/n) shrugged. "Worst prankster ever, still."

He finally let his laugh break free, and she followed, both looking so young by interacting.

Of course, the reason for the laughs was rather stupid — Fred had seen death and came back. Or at least, she heard. (y/n) was casting spells and curses as if her life depended on it that day (and it did), so she had little to no time to worry about other people, except maybe her brother, who was battling by her side. She had glimpsed some Professors and Mr and Mrs Weasley, but even when they talked, they weren't talking. It was all survival.

Besides, (y/n) and her brother had the not-so-ordinary task of fighting their father, who battled for the Dark Lord's side. She was glad she had Rick's father by her side, but it was still hard for a daughter to cast unforgivable curses at her daddy.

When she heard the first whispers — "A Weasley has been hit" — she wanted desperately to know which one, but she had no time. (y/n) had to care for her own brother, the father of a baby boy she did not want to see orphaned.

After the end of the battle, when Harry Potter had emerged victorious, (y/n) finally mustered the courage to look for the Weasley family. She saw Fred in a chaotic state but doubted he'd remember as he was passed out. Madame Pomfrey was giving her whole life and power to bring him back. (y/n) stood on the sidelines, quietly watching, and when the Hogwarts lady got up and said he would wake up soon, (y/n) was so relieved she ran away, scared of having to deal with the Weasley's hugs.

Fred's laughter echoed through the colourful shelves of the Jokeshop, creating a symphony of joy that transcended the painful memories of the past. As their laughter subsided, (y/n) couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of comfort and nostalgia settling in.

Before (y/n) could settle again, in a more calm posture, she glimpsed a short shadow running around. She looked at Fred, only to realise he had seen the shadow too.

"Do you think that was…"

"My nephew?" (y/n) finished his sentence. "Possibly. Did you see where he went? You know the place best."

Fred scratched his head, a playful glint in his eye. "I might have seen a little troublemaker sneaking into the Skiving Snackboxes aisle. You know, where the Nosebleed Nougat is."

"Oh, Merlin," (y/n) muttered, shaking her head with a smile. "I'll have to rescue him from his own choices."

As they navigated through the aisles, (y/n) couldn't help but notice Fred's subtle changes. The mischievous spark in his eyes was still there, but it was accompanied by a depth that only life's challenges could bring. The war had left its mark on everyone, evident in the lines on his face and how he carried himself.

When they finally found Rick, he was gleefully examining a box of Nosebleed Nougat, unaware of the worried expressions on the adults around him.

"Rick!" (y/n) scolded gently, "You can't just pick anything you want."

"But Auntie, this is so cool! Imagine making someone's nose bleed!" Rick exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Fred chuckled, exchanging a knowing glance with (y/n). "Well, it seems like he's got the true Weasley spirit."

After persuading Rick to choose a more harmless prank, they made their way to the counter. As Rick excitedly chatted about his selected item, (y/n) couldn't help but steal glances at Fred. The connection they had shared during the war, the unspoken understanding of loss and survival, seemed to linger in the air.

When it was time to pay, Fred leaned in and whispered, "On the house for the little troublemaker."

"Fred, I can't—"

"Consider it a gift from a friend," he interrupted, a warmth in his eyes that (y/n) couldn't ignore.

(y/n)'s cheeks were as red as Fred's hair.

"Well, thank you", she finally said, avoiding Fred's eyes. "Wait, where's George? Have you two finally learned to live apart?"

Fred liked her tone, and he answered truthfully. "He's been after some supplies, so the shop's my responsibility today."

"Brave of George to let that happen."

"Ha ha," Fred pretended to laugh at (y/n)'s benter. "Anyway, let me accompany you on the way out."

"Oh, you don't…"

"It's not like the shop is too busy." Fred pointed out, not letting (y/n) win that argument.

As they went for the exit, (y/n) felt a mixture of emotions swirling within her. The encounter had brought back memories, both painful and beautiful. The war had taken its toll, but here they were, finding moments of laughter amidst the remnants of their past.

They stood there momentarily, the bustling sounds of Diagon Alley surrounding them. It was a moment suspended in time, a chance encounter that felt both fleeting and eternal.

"Listen," Fred began, his expression serious yet hopeful. "I know we haven't kept in touch, but I'd like to change that. Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime, catch up properly."

(y/n) hesitated for a moment, the weight of the years between them palpable. But then she nodded, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I'd like that, Fred. I really would."

As they exchanged contact information, (y/n) couldn't shake off the bittersweet feeling in her chest. The scars of the past were still there, but in the laughter shared and the promise of a new connection, there was a chance for something beautiful to bloom.

As they parted ways, (y/n) couldn't help but glance back at Fred, who had faced death and returned to find moments of joy in the simplest things. It was a melancholic happiness, a reminder that even in the aftermath of darkness, there could be sparks of light and the possibility of forging new connections.

And so, (y/n) walked away from Diagon Alley, her nephew's hand in hers, carrying the weight of the past and the tentative hope of a future yet to unfold.

#harry potter #fred and george #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x slytherin reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fanfic #george weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #y/n x fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n

257 notes · View notes

koithelittle · 5 months

Text

cg!cc!wilbur moodboard + headcanons!!

note; so like half of these? were from a hc post that was unformatted and turns out i messed up the request but i am- i can’t fix it without feeling absolutely horrible so. i turned them into this and just added like way more! i have plans for a couple new fics plus absolutely endless moodboards so be looking out for that! this moodboard was my first and has been collecting dust in my drafts for months. love it tho! otay das aww.

paci creds; littlemothshop on ig!

navigation

other moodboards

taglist; @jjtheresidentbaby @lillylvjy @wilmaslittleflower @whos-nicooo (ask or do to be added!)

- he makes sure your regression is completely private, only the band knows and whoever of your friends knows.

- barely anyone even knows you're dating him, let alone that he's your cg when you're little. it's all very private!

- he has pacis, sippys, and toys all scattered around the house. although there's a special spot for it all, it's just sort of floats around !

- he's big on cuddling you when you're little, especially if you're having a hard time ! he'll hold you, calling you soft names to help you slip into or stay in little space.

- doesn't really mind any name but prefers daddy/dada!

- he likes to set up corners around his house that are safe spaces. pillows and blankets and one of your many favorite stuffies. he also likes to put a basket that has some coloring stuff n toys!

- when he's streaming and you're regressed, he'll usually set you up under his desk, blankets and a stuffie, paci and the switch with your headphones. he'll ruffle your hair and rub your back while he streams, making sure to keep an eye on you while he's talking.

- he's got pretty set boundaries with you. bedtime at a certain time, with quiet time before. baths are always fun! and they're always after playtime so you're a bit calmer !

- loves getting you custom pacis from shops, managed to get a lovejoy themed one and couldn't stop smiling at how happy you were.

- speaking of Lovejoy! he'll take you to band practice alot, little or big! the guys love to help care for you. hold you and play with you! Joe is your favorite, since he likes to let you sit in his lap and play with his beard.

- wil really likes to color with you, but he's also always up to play pretend too!

- keeps close tabs on you and knows your habits pretty well, so he catches when you slip way before you do!

- loves cooking for you all of the time, he knows your safe foods like the palm of his hand so he'll give you a few options to pick from at each meal

- holds you when you sleep, and rubs your back

- favorite names to call you are bunny, baby, and little one!

- his kitchen is packed full of all of your safe foods and favorite utensils and plates! it’s mostly in your favorite color, but he knows it helps you eat and enjoy eating so he doesn’t mind

- he has a little note on his phone that lists your favorite things, big and little. movies, shows, snacks, foods, sweaters of his— etc. he wants to remember everything he can!

- he’s very patient and soft with you, careful with his words and tone.

- he likes it when you lay across him, your head on his shoulder or his lap so he can rub your cheeks and hair. just loves giving you mindless affection!

- favorite part of the day for him is when he’s getting you to sleep. sometimes it’ll be through a vod he puts on, a cartoon or he’ll just sing to you.

- loves sitting behind you with you in his lap as you play. he likes to join in too, of course but sometimes he just likes to watch.

- he likes to color with you and help you find all the colors you need, handing them off to you whenever you ask

- piggy back rides!! although his favorite method of travel for you is holding you on his hip or carrying you when you face him. he just feels safer doing that, like he can keep closer tabs on you.

- whenever you pout or you’re sad, he’ll get you to laugh and giggle by making silly faces or noises but especially likes tickling you!

- reads you a story at every nap and bed time. sometimes he’ll make them up but he really likes the books since he can show you pictures!

- he sits you on the counter or on a stool while he cooks so he can keep an eye on you but still have you involved without you getting hurt or feeling obligated to help. he can do it just fine on his own, but he doesn’t mind you being there!

- he’s more strict when it comes to routines above all else. he just wants to make sure you’re healthy and well cared for.

- he likes to have some age appropriate and easy workbooks on hand, just to give you a few pages to work on while he works. you feel involved and you like filling them out (and he likes checking them so he can put stickers on it and draw a smiley face for good work!)

- he’s a picnic guy, so he’ll gather up a lunch in a picnic basket, pack your little bag and take you out to the park or an empty field or even a pebble beach and just have a lil picnic with you. he’ll read a book or write some music while you color and draw or play with whatever you brought!

- he loves it when you kiss his cheek to make him smile. if he’s ever sad a lil kiss on his nose or cheek or chin will just make him absolutely beam! and then subsequently attack you in kisses and tickles.

- loves calling you baby, but baby bear has a nice ring to it to him.

- jokes he’s your papa bear

- adores when the guys come over to work on music but end up playing with you and indulging you in your pretend play! mark gets really invested when your toy of choice is blocks, he’ll try to build the highest tower but joe always knocks it over. cue a very long bicker match!

- ash likes to color and draw with you. he’ll teach you cool techniques and show you all the fun stuff he can draw!

- joe really likes to play with your calico critters with you, coming up with silly scenarios or putting silly outfits on them.

- wil likes to watch from the sidelines, just gushing at how cute it all is. he has good friends, but an even better love!

- sometimes when he’s bored or lonely (when he’s on tour mostly) he has a habit of doing a bit of online shopping and ordering whatever thing you last mentioned. sometimes a stuffy, sometimes a paci but more often than not, a new toy. he just loves you and the thought of getting to see your face when he finds something for you just makes it even better.

- just overall a very attentive and sweet cg!

#sfw agere #koimoodboards #koiheadcanons #wilbur soot agere #wilbur soot #wilbur soot moodboard #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur #wilbur soot x gn!reader #cg!wilbur soot moodboard #cg!wilbur moodboard #cg!wilbur soot x little!reader #cg!wilbur soot #cg!wilbur

153 notes · View notes

multifandomfanficss · 8 months

Text

Stuck With You

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Prompt: When the team sticks their newest member with Vigilante, everyone feels bad for you, but you’re grateful to have him around when you run into something from your past and lose your cool.

Warnings: panic attacks, human experimentation, referenced child abuse

A/N: I found a couple lines of dialogue in my drafts that I never did anything with and I had the writing bug today so I decided to finally make something with it! I’ll crosspost it on my AO3 adriansglasses as well. Hope you enjoy!

“(L/N), you’re with Vigilante.” Harcourt says, at the beginning of the meeting.

“You’re really gonna stick the newest person with that psycho?” John asks.

“You don’t need to be mean to Adrian just because he’s not here.” Leota starts.

“I would say it to his face too. He’d probably just laugh and call me his 4th best friend.” John retorts.

You hadn’t been with the team for long. This was your first mission with them. After a mission gone too out of control, Waller sent you to the middle of nowhere Evergreen, Washington. You thought she’d sent you here because the environment would be less hectic, but the longer you’re there, the more you realize she probably sent you here because everyone on this team is either highly traumatized or in need of more experience. She was trying to put the training wheels back on. From what you’d been told by the team’s top conspiracy theorist, Christopher Smith, this team was originally supposed to be an expendable scapegoat, but they ended up saving the world. You had no idea what to believe at this point.

“What’s up with Vigilante?” You ask, wondering why this was all such a hot topic. You hadn’t known him for long. He seemed a little odd, but overall fine. If you were being honest you actually kind of liked him. He was sweet and funny, often without trying. There was this comforting air about him and you didn’t really know why. He was a good fighter and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think he was at least a little bit cute.

“He’s a little…” Chris started moving his finger in a circular motion, trying to insinuate that Adrian was crazy.

“He can’t be that bad.” You smile.

Suddenly Adrian comes running into the old video store tripping over one of his shin guards that wasn’t on properly. He sits down and fastens it.

“Sorry I’m late, guys. They kept me late at the restaurant and then when I was trying to put on my suit in the car I accidentally ran a red light and usually I would kill somebody for that, but I mean I think the more important thing is that I didn’t run over the old lady crossing the street! She was totally fine and I know she’s alive because she screamed at me…I’ve never seen an old lady use to many swear words. It was kind of awesome! Anyway what did I miss?”

“You put on your suit while driving?” Leota asks.

“Yup.” He gives a straight face nod. Adrian often had a way about him, as if what he was thinking should be obvious to other people, when in fact, it was not obvious to most people most of the time.

“You amaze me.” Harcourt says, sarcastically.

“Thank you.” Adrian smiles, not catching her sarcasm.

She rolls her eyes, sighing.

———————————————————————

Later on that night you and Adrian found yourselves walking through a series of tunnels.

“John, I think we might be lost.” You spoke into your coms, hoping he can help you from the van.

“I can’t even hear you in my earpiece and I’m right next to you. I think we lost the signal.” Adrian walks in silence for a few seconds before adding, “I’m sorry you got stuck with me.” He looks at the ground, sad.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know they stuck you with me. Nobody ever really chooses to be my partner.” He lightly kicks a rock, pretending not to be bothered.

“They did pair us up, but that doesn’t mean I was disappointed.” You smile.

“Really? Why would you want me?”

“Well first of all, you’re a great fighter. You were also the first person to attempt to be my friend. I’d trust you in the field over anyone.”

“Really?” You can hear the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah.” You let out a soft giggle. “Why are you so surprised that I like you?”

“Usually everyone just tells me to shut up or fuck off.”

“Well I’m not everyone.” You nudge him playfully as you walk.

Soon you come upon a door. It’s a little rusted, but Adrian shoots the lock off and you’re able to break in.

“What is this place?” He asks.

As soon as you walk inside you see the tubes, the files, the devices, the tables, the symbols. You know exactly what this is. This is an old facility for the for the group that made you leave your old job, the mission that ruined your life. You see files on the table, files no doubt full of details on the children they were experimenting on. The group would take orphaned children or children who were abandoned and unwanted, kids who had no one to protect them, and they would experiment on them. They were human trials to try to find new ways of making superheroes. This must have been one of their old abandoned facilities. Despite the lab being inactive, just the sight of it was still enough to send you into a spiral.

Your heart starts beating rapidly as you grow dizzy. You look down at your shaking hands. You’re starting to lose control of your breathing.

“I- I can’t-“ You walk backwards out of the room, starting to hyperventilate.

“Woah. Hey, what’s going on? Are you having a panic attack?” Adrian slowly puts his hands out towards you. He’s a little unsure of what to do.

“I’ve seen this before!” Your entire world is spinning as your start to cry. You can’t stop thinking about the awful things you saw when you snuck into their active facility earlier this year. Those poor children. Part of you was starting to wonder if Waller put you on this team for a reason. You should have known better than to think she was giving you a break. Waller always had some sort of fucked up motive that only worked for herself hidden up her sleeve. “I can’t fucking breathe!” You sob, sucking in air.

“Tender nice touching.” Adrian slowly approached you, patting your shoulder. You needed pressure on your body. You felt like you were slipping away from earth and you needed to be held down.

“Can I have a hug?” You asked, quietly.

“You want a hug?” He asked, his voice just as quiet. He was speaking softly to not startle you further.

“Yeah…”

“I think I can do that.“ He smiles, slowly bringing you into his arms. A little loose at first, he tightened the hug as you melted into him.

“I’m sorry- I- I just…I know what the did here and- and-“ Adrian shushes you as you begin to stutter, your mind moving much faster than your mouth is able to.

“You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Just breathe with me. Don’t focus on anything else, but your breathing okay? Can you feel me breathing?” He rubs your back as you cry into his arms. You nod. “Okay, good. Just…just follow that.” He sighs and then focuses on making his own breathing something you can follow.

“Sometimes it’s hard for me to know what people on the team want because I know Chris doesn’t wanna look weak and Harcourt would kill me if I touched her, so I try to be careful. I just don’t wanna upset you guys more, but if you want me hold you I can keep doing that. Just let me know what you need and I’ll do it.” He says, softly.

“Can you just keep talking?” You ask. The sound of his voice is soothing and grounding.

“You want me to keep talking?” He smiles. “You’re in luck. I’m actually really good at talking. So good, in fact, that people are constantly asking me to shut up. So uh… What can I talk about? Oh! I know. So I have this friend at work. His name is Taylor. Well, he says we’re not friends, but he texts me all time time asking me to help cover his shifts and I would only trust a friend enough to ask them for that, so I think we’re friends. Anyway, so Taylor walked in this morning and…”

The longer Adrian rambles on the better you feel. The pressure of his body on yours and his voice slowly bring you back to earth. Eventually you find yourselves walking back through the tunnels, hand in hand, retracing your steps as he guides you back to the van to regroup. He keeps you distracted with silly stories the entire walk back.

You don’t know what the rest of your team was talking about. Adrian was the best partner you could have had.

197 notes · View notes

jakevwebber · 2 months

Text

jake fluff!!

i was sat down on mine and jake’s bed scrolling through tiktok while he was editing a new video of him and johnnie for his channel

i kept seeing couple trends so i wanted to choose one and do it with jake , he was always up for doing tiktok’s he loves doing them unless they involve us arguing with eachother over something

i walked over to jake and tapped his shoulder he looked up at me smiling while taking his headset off placing it on the desk infront of him.

“jake can we do this tiktok pleaseeee”

“yeah baby of course what is it?”

i showed him the tiktok on my phone and he laughed a little then said okay to it hugging me , i walked over to my makeup desk grabbing a red lipstick i told jake to sit on the bed which he did

i sat ontop of him applying the red lipstick to my lips then kissing his face putting red kisses all over his face we were both laughing after each kiss which was cute

i then put the lipstick in my lips leaving a little bit of my lips with no lipstick so i could fill it in while filming the tiktok

“okay are you ready” i smile at him

he nodded at me i was still straddling him while i began filming filling in the lipstick on my lips then smudging it in the corner where jake then brought his thumb up to wipe the corner off that’s when i turned the camera to jake’s face and he was staring at me smiling then he finished the video by kissing my cheek which i didn’t know he was gonna do

“let’s look at it now” he said

we both watched the video smiling and giggling i put it into my drafts after saving the video to my camera roll , i got off jake asking to do one more tiktok smiling at him

“okay fine it better not be a mean one or something also can u get this off my face before it stains please baby” he added while looking down at me

we walked into the bathroom while wiping his face to get the lipstick off then wiping my lips to get it off

me and jake walked out the bathroom and back onto the bed laying next to eachother

“okay the next one isn’t even bad it’s just a zoom up of our eyes and like we just keep looking back and forth i guess” i showed him the video

“aww i like that it’s cute” he giggled

i zoomed the camera in so it was just our eyes then i began recording while me and jake were looking at eachother then the roof then the wall just anywhere cause we had no idea where to look to be honest but we were laughing the whole time which you could tell in the video

we then watched the video and i again saved it and put it into my drafts while putting my phone besides me

i looked at jake and just layed on his chest hugging him hearing his heartbeat while i lay there.

“you know i love you so much jake your the best thing that’s ever happened to me”

he started stroking my hair and he then lifted my head up holding both of my cheeks and pulling me in for a kiss then one on my forehead

“i love you even more my girl” he smiled at me innocently

73 notes · View notes

swiftlyinlove · 8 months

Text

Anti-hero ;; Peter Hayes

pairing: Peter Hayes x GN!Reader

summary: Peter Hayes is exhausted of seeing his girlfriend, the only good thing in his life, always rooting for the anti-hero.

warnings: enemies (brief) to lovers, a little angst mixed with fluff, Peter thinks he's undeserving of love, deviation from canon, Evelyn is a manipulative bitch, more book-based than movie-based.

word count: approximately 4.1k.

a/n: Hi! I'm so excited to be publishing my first one-shot here on Tumblr. This one has kinda been sitting in my drafts for a couple of months. never actually saw the movies, I just read the books, but I really liked the way his redemption arc was handled, and I found myself imagining how different it would've been if he had someone who loved him by his side.

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

Midnights become my afternoons

Peter couldn't sleep. Maybe it was because he was uneasy on his new surroundings. Maybe it was the fact that everyone in the Bureau of Genetic Welfare knew the terrible things that he'd done, all the sins he committed back in Chicago, and hated him for it. Maybe it was the fact that almost all of his traveling companions hated his guts. Maybe it was all of those combined.

Despite of the cause of the problem, Peter found himself sitting near the peculiar fountain at the center of the Bureau's headquarters. His gaze was fixed on the letter he held delicately in his hand, his eyes not moving away from the swooping, sloping cursive letters. Your handwritting.

Your letter was the only thing he brought with him when he joined Tris and her friends on their quest to explore the world beyond the city's limits. You had written it back when he was serving Jeanine Matthew's and holding Tris and Tobias captive. You had been trying to free the two of them from Jeanine's villainous clutches, while at the same time trying to save Peter from succumbing into his own darkness.

In midnights like that, as Peter read your letter over and over again, he thought he didn't deserve you. You two had met back when you were still initiates at Dauntless - you had left Erudite, along with your good friend Will, while Peter had left his family behind in Candor.

You didn't have the best of starts, he had to admit. You grew up in a very toxic environment, where you had to excel at every single thing that you did in order to receive even the minimum amount of love and approval from your parents. He, on the contrary, was raised by a very loving family, but he simply craved to be the best at everything.

So, when training started and you both competed for the best pontuation in every activity, Peter wasn't exactly thrilled. And neither were you. Hatred started blossoming within the two of you like a rose full of thorns, your frustration towards each other close to the exploding point.

You were a very kind-hearted person, as Peter noticed early in your rivalry. You quickly became friends with Tris, Christina, and even Al. The fact that he seemed to bully Tris the most, since she was transfered from Abnegation, only added fuel to the fire that was your loathe for Peter Hayes.

However, with time, Peter caught himself noticing every little thing you did. He caught notice of how his heart would flutter - but only a little - whenever he saw you helping out your friends, either with training tasks or just normal day-to-day things.

He realized how his gaze would linger on you when you weren't looking, how he couldn't help the way his lips curled up whenever he saw your name placed high on the scoreboard. Hell, he didn't even mind if you scored better than him. Not anymore.

Turned out, the line between love and hate truly was thin. He tried to swallow his feelings, because he was aware of how awful he had been to you and your friends. He was sure you'd never like him back; he would never stand a chance with a good person like you.

It was in the middle of the second stage of initiation that you realized how your banter actually amused you. How Peter's snarky comments would bring a genuine smile to your face, and his absence left you feeling empty. You knew you shouldn't feel that way; he was incredibly mean to your friends, especially Tris, but you couldn't help how you felt.

There was one night in particular that changed everything. You couldn't sleep, so you sat on your bed. Your eyes were immediately pulled towards Peter's bed across the room, where the boy himself tossed and turned, similarly unable to sleep.

You put your shoes on before approaching his bed. “Hey, do you wanna take a walk? I can't sleep. It seems like you can't, either. We could just walk in silence... I just want some company.” You whispered.

He was quick to accept your offer, much to your surprise. In a few moments you were both crossing the transferred initiates' dorm. You cast a look upon Drew and Al's empty beds, but payed it no mind as you and Peter sneaked off onto the dark hallways of the Dauntless headquarters.

"So..." Peter started the conversation, to your delight. "Do you usually have the urge to sneak off the dorms and go on walks with your arch-nemesis in the middle of the night?"

His words made you chuckle. "No. Only you, I suppose." You teased. If the hallways weren't dipped into darkness, you would've been able to see the faint blush rushing to his cheeks due to your comment.

After that, you pretty much talked about everything. About your life before Dauntless, about the families you left behind, about your hopes and fears for the future. You were amazed by how funny, vulnerable and good he could be once he let his walls down. So, when he leaned in to kiss you right as you were telling him about the painted ceiling of your old bedroom back home, you didn't really opose to it.

You decided to keep your relationship secret, at least for a little while. You knew your friends wouldn't be too thrilled with the idea of you dating Peter Hayes.

Especially because, as you'd find out the next morning, Drew and Al had sexually harassed Tris, and also tried to kill her, on that very same night. You couldn't believe your own ears; how could Al, such a sweet boy, do that to his own friend?

It became pretty clear to you that Tris was convinced Drew was only doing Peter's bidding, and Al just came along for the ride. You knew that wasn't true - you noticed the disgusted glint in Peter's eyes when he found out what his alleged friend had done. But there was no way you could change Tris' mind.

Your relationship was filled with discreet, longing glances across the room at lunch, dates in the middle of the night and little notes left in your pockets, telling you how beautiful you looked and how much he missed you. Peter even stopped coming after Tris and the rest of your friends; he couldn't do that to you.

Being with you made him want to be a better person, made him want to fight the darkness within him so he could be the man you deserved.

You were so excited when you passed the initiation in third place - Tris was first and Peter was, obviously, second - that you hugged him without even thinking, in front of everyone, and he was so thrilled that you were willing to be seen with him that he didn't really mind.

Your friends inquired you about your relationship with him after that, about his intentions. Yes, they had noticed Peter's sudden shift in behaviour after you began dating, but that didn't erase all the horrible things he did before.

After you explained everything, you could see the glint of forgiveness in Tris' eyes. She was very happy that you found love, even if it was with him, and the rest or your friends soon followed in her steps and congratulated you.

That was the night you exchanged your first 'I love you's. As fate would have it, that night would also be remembered by History as the night Chicago's experiment turned into a massacre.

When my depression works the graveyard shift

All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room

Peter closed his eyes, his hold on the letter only tightening slightly as he recalled the events of that fateful night. He remembered being confused as he saw everyone, including a very clumsy Tris, march out of the dorms with soldier like movements.

However, the image that would stick to his brain whenever he remembered that night would be of your soulless eyes looking past him as if he didn't even exist.

The following hours were a bit hazy in his mind. Peter had no idea what was happening, why all of his colleagues were leaving the premises heavily armed, looking like mindless puppets.

But when one of the Dauntless highest class members approached him and told him to guard the halls of the headquarters, it became pretty clear to him that he would be dead if he didn't oblige. And then he would never see you again.

As he roamed the halls, holding his gun tightly with both hands, his mind drifted towards you. He was afraid of so many things. He was afraid of how the city would be once it was all over. He was afraid of getting shot, of being unable to live to see another day.

And yet, his biggest fear was that you would be hurt. He feared that you would be killed, that you'd be another body lying still in the streets full of corpses, mostly from Abnegation.

He didn't know when he would see you again, if he would see you again. The fear and the anxiety of not knowing anything clawed at his insides, begging him to do something other than comply to the enemies' orders. But he couldn't act on his impulses, not without a good plan. So he waited.

When Tris marched into the Dauntless corridors with Caleb, Marcus, and her father, Peter couldn't be more relieved. Maybe she knew where you were, if you were safe.

That relief quickly evaporated once Tris, under the impression that Peter had gladly and willingly allied himself with the enemy, shot him in the arm and dragged him at gunpoint towards the simulation control room, where Four was operating under the influence of the divergent serum.

Peter wasn't too happy to be following Tris and Four to the Amity compound, but he did need to get his wound taken care of. Although all of that was forgotten once he saw you, alive and well, standing next to Johanna Reyes, the leader of the Amity section.

He ran towards you, enveloping you in the tightest hug he could muster. His bullet wound was hurting like hell, yes, but the feeling of you in his arms, again? Nothing could beat it. So, when you felt your neck get wet from the desperate tears running down his face, you only placed a kiss to his temple and stroke the back of his head. He was finally in your arms again. He was finally home.

Your reunion, although emotional, was short lived. Soon the Erudite and the Dauntless traitors invaded the Amity headquarters in order to arrest the Divergents and you parted ways once more - while you had managed to escape with Tris, Four, Caleb and Susan, Peter and Marcus remained behind.

You were devastated. How cruel fate was, to bring you together only to pull you apart, over and over again. You didn't even know if he was alive. Therefore, when you arrived at the Factionless sector, you felt like a big piece of you was missing.

Peter, on the other hand, had nowhere to go after his near encounter with death. He didn't know where you were, nor did he have any friend that he could track down. His only choice was to go back to the Erudite section and beg Jeanine Matthew's to trust him.

He could barely mask his disgust of the spineless woman, but little by little he gained her trust. She thought she could take advantage of his poor little soul, that he was alone in this world with no one else to trust. Oh, how wrong she was.

It was only when Tris surrended to the Erudite and was held captive in their headquarters that you caught wind of Peter's stay in the Erudite headquarters.

You wrote him a letter, the letter he held in his very hands right now, begging him to come home. To save Tris and Tobias, to betray the cruel Jeanine and to come back to you.

And so he mustered a plan. With Cara's help he switched the death serum with a paralytic one, saving Tris from execution and successfully escaping with her and Four. The proud look in your eyes when the three joined you in the Abnegation factor was one he'd never forget. In that moment, he felt invencible.

He felt like he could beat the voice within him that implored for him to succumb to darkness. He felt like he could, finally, be deserving of you.

I should not be left to my own devices

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)

Peter didn't want you to come with them to the city's limits at first. Only God knew what they would find beyond them, what the world would be like outside of the chaotic Chicago.

But you had been separated so many times before that you couldn't even bare the thought of being left behind in the messed up city while he walked towards the unknown. What would you do if he never returned? If he died, or if he simply found someone else and decided to abandon you?

Therefore you insisted upon going. You wanted to be there for him, for your friends, no matter what was waiting for all of you on the other side of the rusty old train tracks that marked the end of your city, of your whole world. Up until now.

Whatever your group was hoping to find on this expedition, it surely wasn't this. It wasn't the Bureau of Genetic Welfare waiting for you. It wasn't the revelation that all of you, except Tris and maybe Four, were genetically damaged and were isolated from the world with the sole purpose of healing.

It wasn't the knowledge that the government had been watching your actions the entire time, not doing anything while the inhabitants of Chicago killed each other by Jeanine's command.

On nights like this, when he couldn't sleep, Peter could feel the anger overtaking his body. How dare the Bureau stand by watching while multiple lives were being destroyed? How dare they call them damaged and lock them up on the city, disconnecting them from the whole world?

How dare they sit and observe his entire life, completing riping him of his privacy? The privacy of his first kiss, the privacy of his mourning for his fellow classmates and strangers that were murdered in cold blood.

That's why he always brought your letter with him on his late night walks. Your written words soothe him, strip him from his fury towards the Bureau, towards the world.

He can feel his eyes starting to close, sleep slowly dominating his body, so he promptly returns to the dorms. He can feel a smile forming on his lips as he finds you peacefully asleep in your bed - you always looked cute when you slept. Peter carefully slid under the cover next to you, leaning his body against yours. You were his anchor, his home, and he couldn't wish for more.

You woke up at the first signs of dawn, when the sun rays emerged through the windows. A sleepy smile formed on your lips once you took notice of Peter's arms around your waist. You turn around in his arms, planting a delicate kiss on the tip of his nose before carefully getting up. You did your best not to wake him, knowing he was probably tired from his nightly walk.

Despite his best efforts to conceal his angry thoughts from you, you knew what was going on in his head. You knew he resented what you discovered outside the city you've known your whole life. You knew he felt betrayed - of course he did, and so did the rest of you.

And you knew all his wrath was keeping him up at night. You desperately wanted to help him, to comfort him, but you decided it was better to give him some space. You waited patiently for him to come to you, to vent about your current situation. But he never did.

You noticed curiously how Uriah's bed was neatly arranged, despite it being very early. Christina's bed was also empty, you realized. You knew they were getting close lately, a little too close to be just 'friends', and you were very happy for them. After all they went through, with Christina losing Will and Uriah losing Marlene, they deserved to find love again.

You left the provisorial dorms provided to you and your friends by the Bureau while you decided whether you wanted to stay in the facilities or return to Chicago.

You made your way to the cafeteria, humming to whatever song was playing on the Bureau's radio, praying that Peter was finally resting well.

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

And life will lose all its meaning

For the last time

A few hours later, you were making your way back to the dorms when you heard a guttural scream that sounded a lot like Peter echoing through the room. You rushed towards his bed; luckily enough, everyone was already up and wandering, so it was only the two of you.

“Pete, love, wake up.” You said lovingly as you gently shook his trembling frame. Once his eyes opened and you could see how glossy they were, a few tears already escaping and cascading down his face, your heart broke in two. “It was just a nightmare, everything is okay. I'm right here.”

Your presence seemed to calm him slightly, but flashes from his nightmare kept plaguing his mind. Deep down, he knew it was only a manifestation of his fear; but it felt so real... Your figure, lying lifeless and cold on the ground, seemed so real to him.

He knew his life would lose all its meaning if you weren't in it. Before you, he was ruthless. He was cruel. The only thing he was interested in was coming in first place in everything, even if he had to push people down to get there.

After you... Well, he was a whole different person. You saved him without even knowing he needed to be saved. You made him want to be better, want to be kind. Without you, he was absolutely sure he would be lost.

He couldn't even bare the thought of you leaving him, it was way too painful. But the thought of you dying in his arms while he was completely helpless? That fucking broke his heart, shattered it into a million little pieces.

“Promise me you'll never leave me.” He requested, his voice trembling as you gently wiped away the tears that continued to roll down his cheek. “Please, that's the only thing I'm asking.”

You sat down next to him on the small bed and he immediately threw himself into your open arms, your caresses on his brown curls soothing him. “I know you're afraid of what might happen while we're here, or if we go back to the city. But believe in one thing, I won't go away. Even if I died, I'd come back to haunt your ass.”

Your words made him chuckle, feeling alright for the first time in what felt like forever. Your reassurance melted his heart and he pulled you down so you were lying next to him, snuggling his body closer to yours and letting you rest your head on his chest.

It's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me

At tea time, everybody agrees

It had been a few weeks since Peter's nightmare and things were slowly starting to get better. You often woke up in the middle of the night and found Peter sleeping next to you, his chest slowly rising up and down.

Despite how calm everything around you seemed, you sensed something coming, something big. And, in an apparently random thursday, that something did indeed arrive.

You were outside of the Bureau, training with Tris and Four to keep your combat skills in good shape, while Peter was in the dorm getting dressed after awaking from a well-deserved nap.

As he tied the laces of his black combat boots, a loud ring echoed through his mind, interrupting his actions. His head was throbbing, sending shockwaves of pain through his body, and he sat back down on his bed.

That's when he'd heard it. “Hey, Peter. Guess who finally found you? " Evelyn's voice rang to his head, and his eyes widened.

Shit, he thought, as he recalled the Dauntless graduation day, when Eric had injected the serum on all of the initiates. His hadn't been activated on the night of the massacre, it was true, but he still had it flowing through his veins, and Evelyn could've easily found a way to activate it, or at least to communicate with him through it.

"Didn't know you had the guts to run away, Hayes. It must be exhausting having to live with people who hate you. " Evelyn spoke once more.

“Shut up!" Peter yelled out loud in response. "You don't know anything about me!"

"Sure I do." Evelyn replied. "I know your little girlfriend is with you. It would be a shame if she was suddenly attacked out there by one of my soldiers, wouldn't it?"

Peter took a deep breath, trying to calm his speeding heart and his growing nerves. Tightly closing his trembling hand in a fist, he muttered. "You wouldn't dare."

"Do you really think I wouldn't?" She questioned, but continued before he even had time to answer. "What if we made a deal? You do one little thing for me and I won't kill your girlfriend. How does that sound?"

He thought carefully about his next move. The last thing he wanted was to be under that evil woman's command. But, then again, he couldn't risk losing you. "What do I have to do?" Peter asked, his voice no louder than a whisper.

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Peter's gun pointed forward towards an all-familiar enemy - Tris -, hands shaking in fear, an aching regret spreading rapidly through his chest like a burning fire.

He doesn't want to do this at all, but it's what's expected of him. It's what Evelyn expects of him, to be a good little puppet. It's what everyone expects of him, to be a villain, to betray the hero in the end. But not you.

No, you don't see him as the villain, like everyone else. If anything, you see him as a hero in his own way. An anti-hero of sorts.

A salty tear slides down his face at the thought of you; what would you say if you saw him like this? Would you be angered by his actions? Would you be disappointed? Would you leave him, like everyone else?

He didn't notice as you walked into the room, your doe eyes falling upon his figure. Your heart started beating faster, but not by anger or fear of him. No, you feared for him.

You feared he would do something he'd regret. You feared the guilt that would soon after invade his brain, filling him with melancholia. But above all else, you feared what would happen if he didn't press the trigger, you feared your friends' reaction.

So you rushed towards him and hugged him from behind. He didn't need to turn around to see it was you. Every bone, every fiber in his body recognized your scent, your embrace.

“You don't need to do this.” You whispered in his ear, tightening your hold on him to remind him that you would always be there.

And so he let go of all the cruel expectations and the ridiculous anger that were sewed into his soul from the moment he was born. With a loud bang, his pistol fell to the marble floor, and he turned around only to bury himself in your embrace.

In front of you, Tris sighed in relief, her face twisting into a somewhat empathic expression. On her left side, Four visibly relaxed, his hands moving to rest on her shoulders.

Peter hadn't realized it, but more tears were now cascading down his face, loud sobs escaping his lips as one of your hands caressed his hair.

“Everything's okay. You're okay.” You muttered. And, for the first time in his life, he believed it. He didn't give a shit about Evelyn or her threats anymore; as long as you were with him, he would always protect you.

#Spotify #divergent #peter hayes #miles teller #peter hayes x reader #peter hayes divergent #peter hayes imagine #peter hayes x you #peter hayes imagines #divergent imagines #divergent one-shot #peter hayes one-shot #fluff #enemies to lovers

146 notes · View notes

starg1rlie · 10 months

Text

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 ㅤㅤPROLOGUE: The Baby | (MLIST)

⟡ rating. slight romance + angst ( adolescent audience )

⟡ summary. ( the re-written version of "better late than never" is finally here! i know some people have asked about it, since i've deleted it but it's BACK NOW!! ) not all fairy tales end in a happily-ever-after. take (Y/N) and ajax for example; they had the love story of a lifetime and yet it's now all water under the bridge. ten years after the two of them split up, it was suggested that (Y/N) spend a summer vacation over in snezhnaya to give their son and the father some time to bond together and enjoy a relaxing break. however, that's easier said than done.

notes. you have no idea how long this post has been sitting in my drafts, oml. hey, yep, this is leo here, formerly known online as tarluscious (or, leo, as my moots know me), here to talk a bit about the remake of this delightful series. ever since i started publishing more and more chapters of this series back when it was still a "fly by the seat of my pants" project, i wasn't happy with the final results. i mean, hell, who's ever happy with the first attempt? and i've been meaning to re-write this series for so long, but i never found the time to. when i took my hiatus a couple of months ago, i was a little sad that i wouldn't get the chance to write BLTN over again. however, my friend, who now runs this blog (hyokkun) with me, suggested that they might re-write it, and we came to a happy conclusion that the both of us should work on this project together. so here we are, with the prologue. yayy. just wanted to say that what this means is, hyokkun has added their own inputs into this series, while i, leo, am the main author of it. so, all that being said, i hope you thoroughly enjoy this re-written version. please note that some things may be different from the last time you've read this series, and that's because changes has been made to fit the new plot accordingly. reblogs and likes are appreciated ! | wc. 1,542 words ( 8,566 characters )

⟡ feat. childe / tartaglia x female! reader ( she / her pronouns are used )

ㅤㅤA cry split through the peaceful silence of the hospital. A baby, swaddled in warm, cuddly blankets had begun wailing, even though he was cradled within the arms of his mother. He kept bawling, even as the mother hummed a lullaby, even as she rocked him back and forth in her arms, even as she cupped one side of his delicate face and whispered 'It's going to be okay' over and over again.

ㅤㅤA new wave of sickness passed over (Y/N) as she stared down at her stomach, imagining what it would be like bigger, pondering over the process it takes for a baby to develop within her. It both simultaneously intrigued and terrfied her. She couldn't imagine popping out a baby from her unmentionables, let alone having it stuck in her womb for months. Yet as she began to wonder, a new question came into light: would she give up this baby? Could she?

ㅤㅤPeople say that you don't really have a choice when you're young; no one's capable of raising a child when they're barely just a young adult, and yet, she could name a few people she knew right off the bat who were doing just fine with parenting. But the real question was if she was ready for this. Be it ready to give it up or ready to endure the consequences, it didn't matter. She just had to know for sure if she was ready.

ㅤㅤShe still remembered the conversation that had went down only a few weeks ago. She refers to it as a 'discussion', but really, it was a full-out argument....A migraine had formed underneath her temple and had buried its heels in deep, causing a resonating pounding to echo within her head, messing with her already tangled up thoughts. And yet, that day's memories remained untouched. If anything, it was tugged free of the mess and pulled into the light.

ㅤㅤ"What the fuck? What the fuck?"

ㅤㅤ"Saying 'what the fuck' over and over again isn't going to make the situation anymore better than it already is, Ajax," (Y/N) interrupted, breathing out a slightly exasperated sigh. She'd been scared out of mind about telling her boyfriend about the news and this was exactly why: he'd take it badly. He always took life-changing news badly, unless it involved travelling, free food, or money. She'd grown used to his childish behaviour ever since the two started going out, but right now was not the time to act like a child.

ㅤㅤ"Then what will make this better? Huh? Please elaborate on that for me," Ajax replied sarcastically, throwing his hands up in the air. He'd been pacing for the past five minutes since (Y/N) had spilled the beans about her pregnancy. Anymore pacing and he'd pace a trench right through their apartment floor. "Because I really don't understand how anything can make this better."

ㅤㅤ"Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that you're going to be a father? Haven't you been going on and on about wanting to have a son one day?" (Y/N) retorted, patience fizzling.

ㅤㅤ"When I'm thirty, not twenty-four!"

ㅤㅤ"What's a few years early? If anything, you'd get your dream quicker," she mumbled under her breath, absentmindedly flipping through the channels on the cable.

ㅤㅤAjax leapt forward and snatched the remote out of her hands, slamming it roughly onto the glossy surface of their coffee table, one that he'd insisted he put together himself, even though the table had come from IKEA, and he knew nothing on how to read instructions in Swedish. That little memory caused a tiny pang to go through her heart, enough to make it ache just a little bit. Please, she prayed, please let us get through this together.

ㅤㅤ"You're not listening! Do you honestly think that I'm ready for this? That you're ready for this? We're still in college for God's sake, do you expect us to be whizzes at parenthood?"

ㅤㅤ(Y/N) barely managed to withhold a snort at his sarcasm, but politely shook her head. She knew deep down inside that she wasn't ready to be a mother, let alone have a child at such a young age. What would her friends think? What would her parents think?

ㅤㅤ"What, then, I 'spose you expect us to waltz right in and get comfortable in our positions as parents, right? We'll be fine, so long as we manage to balance a baby into our already hectic and crazy lives, right? Just plop it right in between work and college and paying bills, hm?"

ㅤㅤ"Right," she repeated.

ㅤㅤAjax paused his pacing for a moment. "Do you understand the concept of sarcasm?" he asked incredulously.

ㅤㅤ(Y/N) went silent, seemingly contemplating whether she'd been too hasty to cast in her answer earlier.

ㅤㅤ"Whatever. It doesn't matter." His jaw tensed and for a moment, he looked as though he might punch something. Not (Y/N), heavens no, but something. Possibly the fridge (poor thing; it never did anything to deserve this sort of abuse). "What matters is that you're pregnant and we're still in college. We're students, we can barely make it past out deadlines, let alone manage a child." He sounded almost tired, and for the first time in a while, she just now noticed the bags under his eyes, and the tired croak to his voice, taking the place of the usual charming lilt he normally had. How many times had she come home from her part-time job at the laundromat to see him passed out on the exact same coffee table they were currently in front of, drooling all over his calculus homework? How many times had she come back from her lectures to find a pristine sink and an empty fridge? Ajax was incredibly vain and conscious about his self-image, that he took great lengths to make himself look presentable each day. But ever since his senior year in college started, his schedue started going downhill and he never had the time to do any of the things he normally did to take care of his body. He hadn't eaten proper food for days, and has been liviing off of coffee (and her fancy vanilla oatmilk creamer) and Doritos for God knows how long.

ㅤㅤ"What are we going to do?" (Y/N) asked finally, voice timid and quiet, as if anything louder might break the fragility of this scene.

ㅤㅤWhen Ajax looked up, she had expected his face to be sad, almost regretful for saying such things about the situation, but instead she found his gaze hard and penetrating, almost menacing. "We can't look after a baby right now, (Y/N), you know that."

ㅤㅤAnd the truth was, she did know it. She just chose not to believe it. But the way he worded it, the way he said it, seemed to hint at something. Something that made waves of nausea roll through the pits of her stomach.

ㅤㅤ"You're not suggesting...."

ㅤㅤ"An abortion," Ajax finished quietly, gaze trained on a coffee stain on the carpet.

ㅤㅤ"Ajax, no. No. We can't give the baby up before we've even tried. That's just cruel. This is your child, possibly the son you said you wanted, and you're just going to throw him away? Let him die before he gets a chance to play on a soccer team, like you did? Before he even gets a chance to see the two people who made him?" Your voice broke at those last few words and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face in thick, wet trails. "You might be giving up on him, but I'm never letting go."

ㅤㅤAjax inhaled sharply, air hissing through clenched teeth as he breathed out. "We aren't ready for this, (Y/N)."

ㅤㅤ She knew he was right. She knew it in her heart and in her brain. But some part of her wanted to keep this unborn baby that was developing within her stomach right now. Some part of her wanted to know the happiness of being a parent, a mother.

ㅤㅤShe didn't want to follow through with this. She didn't want to let the baby die. And yet...

ㅤㅤ"Miss (L/N)? You can come in now. Dr. Li's ready for you," a voice called, interrupting (Y/N)'s train of thought. She looked up, one hand resting on her tummy, the other clenched around a cell phone. The screen was still on, a barrage of messages (most likely from her family and friends) lighting up the screen with soft 'pings'.

ㅤㅤShe breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly, a breathing trick she'd learned from online to calm her nerves down.

ㅤㅤFinally, she spoke.

ㅤㅤ"Ah, sorry. I'm afraid I've changed my mind. If it's alright with you, I'll be canceling my appointment."

ㅤㅤThe nurse hesitated for a moment before nodding along. She obviously was not paid enough to barge into patients' lives, so she (wisely) kept her nose in her own business. "Of course, miss. I'll let him know you'll be leaving. Have a lovely rest of your day."

ㅤㅤ(Y/N) nodded along before waddling out of the waiting room, feeling giddy and deliriously light from the weight that had just been lifted from her shoulders. Ajax would be upset over this, yes, but it would be worth it. She could feel it in her bones.

📮 tagging. @kiryoutann, @ajaxstar, @mobiussdarling, @samarill, @dinolvrrr, @messyserver, @xxfrostiee, @enviouspeanut, @ehddsnys, @maaarshieee, @dazaiscum, @mochicurls21, @shinobuko, @iiyumii, @meiraloves2dmen, @retiredmommylover, @electronicphilosopherflower. if your user is highlighted in BOLD that means your current URL does not match the one you inputted in the form. fill out this form if you want to be tagged

101 notes · View notes

sparklefics · 26 days

Text

SLUT!

Avenger!Bucky & F!Agent!Reader Established/ early in the relationship

A/N: this was totally inspired by a Sebastian Stan gif that made me think of our boy Bucky. This was meant for Valentines but I've been super busy with work so...I post when I can.

I'll be dusting off my drafts and posting whatever I find...So enjoy :)

Warning: Language! Other than that some implied sexy time. Not explicit.

WC: 684

[Masterlist]

After a couple of dates with Bucky you’re still learning so much about him while discovering some things about yourself. It’s not the same reading intel from a dossier than getting it right from the source.

You’ve learned so much. For example, Bucky likes to eat a lot so he hides his snacks all over the compound, just like he hides weapons. Bucky also feels more comfortable wearing long sleeves, the more clothes the better– you thought that had to do with the cold, but really it comes from being on the run so much. It’s easier to wear more layers of clothes than it is to carry them around, plus it comes in handy for a quick change.

He’s also a bit of a nerd, the man loves to read.

And read he loves, especially your body language. He’s quite masterful at it. He can tell just by the way you stand which mood you’re in.

That’s how he knows he’s annoying you right now. That and the muttered “slut!’ under your breath.

Bucky is sitting on the couch literally not doing anything in particular, just sitting there with his hands folded on his lap, legs spread wide. He’s waiting for you to finish typing a mission report so you can grab dinner with him. So when he hears your muttered voice he looks up to find your eyes trained on him over the lid of the laptop you’re typing on.

“What’s that?” He asks.

“Nothing.” You roll your eyes at him and resume typing, pressing the keys way too hard.

Bucky gets up from the couch and pulls up a chair and settles next to you. He stares at your profile, you try- you really do- to ignore him. But he’s relentless. Out of the corner of your eyes you catch him giving you the puppy eyes. Your ultimate weakness. You resist for all two seconds, then feel his chin propped on your shoulder. You keep typing…until he presses his lips to your cheek. His stubble makes you giggle.

“James…” you turn to face him, puppy eyes greet you along with a pouty lip.

Be strong! Don’t kiss him.

“Why did you call me a slut?”

You take a deep breath and shut your laptop, “Because you’re sitting there looking all super hot with my favorite sweater of yours on, waiting for me like the perfect boyfriend, and your hands!”

“These old things?” he looks down at his hands.

“Yeah! Hands. Your hands are hot.” You grab his hands to make your point. “I mean they’re so big, like the rest of you. Not that I don’t like that– I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. You’re just big, but just right for me. I like that you’re big, tall, large. Now I’ve said ‘big’ too many times.”

Thankfully you didn't go into much detail on his widely spread legs. Those thighs send you on a doozy.

Bucky pecks your lips softly, pulling away with your breath. “You call me big one more time, we’re not gonna make it to dinner.”

“You giant piece of big big big big biggy biggest super soldier beefcake!”

“That’s it!” Bucky gets up and pulls you into his arms. He picks you up like he picks up his cat and carries you over his shoulder, giving you the perfect opportunity to grab a handful of his butt. When he gets you to his room and drops you on the bed he jokingly says, “I see you only want me for my body.”

You pull him down so he lays on top of you. “No, that’s an added bonus.” you grab him by the back of his neck and guide his lips to yours for a heated kiss.

When Bucky pulls away to catch his breath he smirks down at you, “You called me your boyfriend.”

“It sounds so juvenile. Right? Partner, is that better?”

“Baby, you can call me whatever you want, I’m yours.”

“Then come here, big boy.” You smile at him and pull him in for another kiss. “Slut.”

“Just for you, baby.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes thighs #thighs

37 notes · View notes

andydrysdalerogers · 1 year

Text

Sliding Into Home - A Frank Adler AU

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, eventual smut, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

AN: This is my new series I'm starting next week! I hope you all will like this one. Tagging my usual tag list but please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

Taglist: @patzammit @firephotogrl74 @texmexdarling @slutforchrisjamalevans @jennmurawski13-writes @tinkerbelle67 @before-we-get-started @bunnyforhim

Master List and Preview below:

Frank was looking at a Los Angeles icon, Dodger Stadium. It was his new home, his new team and hopefully his new life. He asked a security guard where to go and was met at the door by an assistant. She was a shameless flirt, commenting on Frank’s forearms and his tattoos, cooing about how good of a player he is. There was zero chance of Frank being interested. His Friday Night adventures were reserved for road trips only. His one-night stands worked out just fine, in his opinion.

As he was guided into the conference room, Frank was met with the president of operations, Nick Stanton. “Mr. Stanton.”

“Frank! Good to see you again.” He shakes hands with Frank. “We’re waiting for everyone so can I offer you a drink?” He gestures to Frank to sit at the table.

“Just a cola, thanks.” Frank took the seat next to the head of the table.

“How was the move?”

“Smoother than I thought it would be. Mary, my niece, threw a couple of tantrums but between me and my nanny, we managed to get her here.”

“Nanny?”

“Oh yeah, Scott, he’s great. He was willing to move with us, which is great since Mary seems to only listen to him.” Frank chuckles. “Who would listen to your uncle/pseudo father?”

“I remember that story,” Nick replies. “You are brave to take on a baby right after bring drafted.”

Frank shrugged. “Its not that big of a deal. You would do anything for family, especially Mary.”

More voices float towards the conference room and Frank stands as he sees his agent and lawyer walk in and shake his hand. Then the general manager for the Dodgers comes in, making small talk with Frank.

“Ok, I think we are just missing the team doctor and our legal team,” Nick tells everyone. “Its not Natasha, she’s busy with another client. She’s sending in their new associate.”

Frank just nods as the GM goes over the training schedule and when he would meet the team. The conference room door opens and Frank turns to see and his stomach drops. He feels himself become clammy and pale. Because this shouldn’t be happening.

Fuck.

He looks at the brunette that walked in.

she’s definitely not supposed to be here.

What the FUCK!

Abby Hernandez, his ex-girlfriend, love of his life, walked into the room.

It Doesn't Stay In Vegas

The Future is West

Are You Sure We Aren’t Going Crazy

You Were Enough; You Are Everything

Fastballs and Fiancés

You Left Me

Take Your Niece to Work Day

Don't You Know How to Spell Assume?

Wanna Feel Safe Again

Maybe I should Have Ducked?

When It All Falls Apart

WTF Just Happened!

D N A: Diane Nicole Adler

Not Just a Pretty Face

It's A Ruff Life

Status: All Star

Since When is Ice Cream Evil

On the Hunt for Mike Weiss

The Next Adventure

A Bump in the Road

Unexpected Surprises

For Reasons Unknown...

Evidence, Emotions, Whatever

Trial By Fire

The One With the World Series

Oh Captain! My Captain!

Finale

#andy's hea #andy's shenanigans #chris evans fanfiction #frank adler #frank adler au #mlb au #dodger au #ofc abigail hernandez #sliding into home #chris evans #mike weiss #johnny storm #baseball au #frank adler smut #slow burn #chris evans au

119 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 1 year

Text

Catching the Red-Eye

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Request by Anon: I just saw a funny post that gave me a fic idea: Friend says “Our flight is at 3am so we could go drinking and then straight to the airport.” Y/N: “Sound like a great idea!” Narrator: “It was not a great idea.” Can I request a Juice x reader where she & her gf (maybe Tara or someone?) are coming back from a girls trip and Juice(&Jax or whoever) have to deal w/ whatever state they find their girls in? 😂😂

Warnings: language, alcohol

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I started a draft for this months ago when you first sent it in and then my computer deleted it. But I got back to it tonight because apparently my muse is only awake between 11pm and 1am these days 😂 I did tweak a couple little things from the original request but the idea of writing reader an Tara as friends just made my heart way too happy. I love them so much and I hope they have many adventures together going forward. I've missed writing slice of life stuff like this. 🥰 (Also I can't lie this made me want to write more fic for Jax and Tara. It's such a small glimpse of them here but god I mourn the missed opportunities of them just having normal relationship moments man idkidk)

A/N 2: My requests are closed this is an old one that's been sitting in my inbox for literal months. Unedited and unbetad as always lmao

SOA Taglist: @espieviolet99 @littlekittymeow @chibsytelford @juicyortiz @meadowofsinfulthoughts @i-just-read-stuff @bport76 @withmyteeth @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @beardburnsupersoldiers @choochoo284 @artemiseamoon @yourwinchesterbros @nessamc @garbinge @narcolini (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It was the first time that you’d ever actually been drunk on a plane. For all the times you heard people talk about airport bars, and all the times that flight attendants had offered you cocktails, you had never really thought much about it. You were always on the go through the airport, always had a book or something to keep you company on the flights. You had never even been buzzed near a plane, let alone drunk and on one.

Apparently the missing ingredient had been traveling with Tara. You had no idea what you had been missing out on until you had it. All because of a trip for a hospital conference. The two of you had spent the better part of your week sitting through lectures and seminars. Sure, the information was interesting, and sure, you were both thankful for the opportunity. But after an entire week in a swanky resort it felt like the two of you had nothing to show for it.

Then to top it all off, your flight got delayed. So you and Tara were stuck at the airport with a few extra hours to kill. It wasn’t long enough to justify leaving just to have to go back through security, but it was too long to just sit there doing nothing. You had no interest in the book in your backpack, and the way that Tara was looking around the airport had you thinking she was in the same predicament.

Then she turned and looked at you, eyebrows raised and a little bit of a glint in her eyes. “You know,” she leaned on the armrest between your two chairs at the terminal, “since our flight isn’t until three now, we could just…” she shrugged casually, “hit one of the bars here and head straight to our flight afterwards.”

You chuckled, trying to gage just how serious she was. “R-really?”

She shrugged, “Why not? The plane has a designated driver. Plus,” she stood up from her seat, “I think we deserve something besides pamphlets and lecture notes for the week we’ve had.” She held her hand out for you to take. “Come on. Closest bar is just a few gates down.”

Despite knowing that it was most likely going to end in a hangover on a plane, you slapped your hand into hers and let her pull you up from your seat and down the hallway. The amount of laughter erupting from the two of you were the sure sign of an impending good time.

It was such a good time, in fact, that it was a just before midnight when your phone started buzzing in your pocket. You pulled it out to see who was calling at such a late hour. You half-stifled a giggle as you showed Tara the name flashing across your screen.

“I forgot to tell him the flight got delayed.”

Her eyes widened as she laughed, taking a sip of her drink before saying, “Oh. When you tell him, make sure he tells Jax.” She let out another laugh. “I forgot to tell him, too.”

You were laughing as you answered the phone. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey,” Juice had been confused the second he dialed your number, but the drunken lilt to your voice only made him more confused. “Are you good? We're at the airport and—”

“Promise me you won’t get mad?” you asked, still giggling.

“He better not!” Tara chimed in with a laugh before ordering the two of you another round of drinks.

Juice couldn’t help but to laugh at the fact that Tara was also drunk. After getting it together, he said, “I promise I won’t get mad. What’s up?”

“Our flight got delayed.” You laughed. “Until 3AM. We aren’t,” you took a sip of the drink that Tara handed you, “we aren’t gonna be home until morning.”

Juice sighed but he wasn’t mad. All the shit that you went through because of him being in the club, all the changed and canceled plans for a myriad of reasons, you more than earned this one. Tara too.

“You’re mad,” you said.

He laughed. “I’m not mad. Just, you know, don’t get carried away and miss your flight.”

You smiled even though he couldn’t see it. “We won’t.”

“Text me later with an ETA?”

“As soon as we board the plane.”

“Alright. I love you.”

You were beaming. “I love you too.” He was halfway through saying goodbye when you remembered, “Oh! Shit. Make sure you tell Jax! Tara forgot too.”

Juice laughed. “Yea, I think he might have figured it out by now.”

You heard Jax's muffled hello on the other end of the line, laughing before finally getting around to saying one more I love you to Juice and saying goodbye.

The rest of the night into the tiny hours of the morning flew by in a bit of a blur. There was a lot of laughing, a lot of drinks. If your memory served right there were a decent number of them that you and Tara didn’t have to pay for yourselves which always seemed to make a drink taste better. It was a great time, and despite the amount of alcohol in your systems you still made it to your flight on time. You even remembered to update Juice.

The two of you managed to get your laughter somewhat under control for the sake of the other passengers on the plane. You didn’t want to keep them up with fits of giggles so you dialed it down. It didn’t take long for Tara to drift off to sleep, but you knew that wasn’t going to be happening for you until you home and in your own bed. And, with any luck, curled up with Juice.

Not sleeping had the unique upside of allowing you to nurse another drink or two on the flight. Just enough to keep you buzzed, to stop you from getting slammed with a brutal hangover. You kept yourself perfectly amused on the relatively short flight home. A few hours on a plane seemed to go by faster than in the car. Being able to watch the sun come up while still having a buzz certainly didn’t hurt.

Tara woke with a groan when you nudged her shoulder after the plane landed. She shook her head at you, not opening her eyes all the way as she felt around on the floor for her purse. “This is why I don’t drink,” she grumbled.

You laughed as you stood up, slipping your backpack on your shoulders. “No, you don’t drink because we always have to be grownups.”

“If we’re both grownups, why am I the only one who’s dying?” she asked as she reached over and snatched your sunglasses off the top of your head and put them on.

“I stayed up,” you laughed as you walked through the airport towards baggage claim, “and I stayed drunk.”

She had to laugh at that. “Smart. I’ll have to remember that next time.”

“Next time?” you said with a grin as you pulled your suitcase and then hers from the carousel. “Hell yea.”

When the two of you stepped outside, Tara immediately let out another groan at the bright morning sunlight. You couldn’t help your laughter as you continued walking, looking for either your car or Tara's. She followed along behind you, trusting you to do the real scouting on her behalf.

It wasn’t long until you saw both Jax and Juice standing on the sidewalk, leaning back against the side your car. You waved to get their attention, picking up your pace, not caring about the suitcase rolling and bouncing along behind you. The second you were close enough, you let go of the suitcase and ditched it on the sidewalk in favor of running up and hugging Juice. You hopped up, wrapping both your arms and legs around him as you buried your face into the crook of his neck.

He laughed, the impact of your jump making him stumble a step but he still caught and held onto you. He hooked his arms underneath you, holding you as your legs wrapped around his waist. He hooked his chin over your shoulder, holding you tight for a moment before you let your feet hit the ground again. Pulling back, you kissed him hard on the lips, leaving the both of you breathless and somehow still laughing.

“I missed you too,” he said with a chuckle. He leaned into it as you cupped his face in your hands. “The trip was good, then?”

“It was great!” you beamed. “Missed you, though.”

“Looks like you two did just fine without us.” He paused, looking over at Tara who was leaning into Jax as he chuckled at her hungover state. “Well, one of you did just fine.”

Jax kissed the side of Tara's head. “Rough trip, babe?”

She shook her head. “The trip was great. I’m still dying, though.” She hugged him and kissed him on the lips. “Take me home so I can die in peace.”

He laughed. “Is this how I am when I’m hungover?”

“You’re worse,” all three of you replied in unison, laughing when you realized.

Jax rolled his eyes but he was laughing too as he picked up both your suitcase and Tara's to toss them into the trunk of your car. “Let’s get you party animals home.”

You immediately ran towards the front of the car. “I call shotgun!”

You were comfortably slouched in your seat with your feet on the dash before Jax and Tara finished settling themselves in the back seat. Jax had his arm draped around her shoulders, keeping her tucked snug against his side as she got ready to lightly doze for the duration of the ride home.

Juice reached over, resting his hand on your thigh as he drove. You interlocked your fingers with his, watching the scenery through the windshield and the passenger window.

Juice squeezed your hand. “How the hell are you not, you know, super fucking hungover?”

You were too busy laughing to answer the question, so Tara piped up from the back seat for you. “Hair of the dog,” she mumbled.

You laughed as you nodded. “Something like that. I just didn’t let myself sober up all the way.” You saw the way Juice peeled his eyes off the road to look at you for a moment and shrugged. “What? The flight attendant offered! Who was I to say no? Don’t worry,” you patted his hand, “when I wake up from my nap in a few hours I will be plenty hungover. By then Tara will be doing better than I’m doing now.”

Juice dropped the two of them off at Jax's. You said a lazy goodbye from the passenger seat, the exhaustion of the week and the all-nighter finally catching up to you. You were starting to close your eyes when Juice got back into the driver's seat. He looked over at you before he put the car back in drive, unable to stop smiling at the sight of you.

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know that he was looking at you. “Yea?”

He laughed quietly. “Nothing. I love you.” He leaned over the center console so he could kiss the side of your head. “I’m glad you two had fun. I’m even more glad that you’re home.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him with a smile. “You’re a sap, Juan Carlos.”

He chuckled as he backed out of their driveway. “You love me, though.”

You couldn’t deny that. “I do. But remember that you love me in a few hours when I’m cranky and hungover.”

“When you’re trying to bury yourself in all of our pillows and blankets?”

“And trap you there with me.”

“And all of your crankiness.”

You laughed, resting your hand on top of his on the console between you. “Exactly.”

#soa #sons of anarchy #soa imagine #sons of anarchy fanfiction #juice ortiz #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz x you #juice ortiz x reader

179 notes · View notes