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pinkxpantha · 1 day ago

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Suspicions, Scones, and Scandals.

diluc x GN!reader

#: synopsis- How the year long secret between you and Diluc is revealed, turns out the greatest bachelor of Mondstadt isn't a bachelor?!

#: cw- 3.4k words, they/you pronouns. Use of Mx, Traveler is left up to interpretation (Aether or Lumine), Kaeya, Venti, Paimon also mentioned, secret relationship, established relationship, Diluc loves like it's the only thing he knows how to do, fluff, Diluc is in mourning (you went to fontaine) no s/o = no life, Donna mentioned for a sentence and lowkey can't decide which one of you to be jealous of, no beta we die like Crepus.

Diluc polished the glass he held in his hand. It was quiet, beautifully so. The loud chatter of drunkards during the usual weekdays were now replaced with the delicate silence of his environment.

Diluc could see his own reflection in the wine glass, it glinted with the casual lighting of Angel's Share.

Before he heard the door creaking open, he saw the peaks of blue. Who else could it be other than Kaeya.

He waltzed through the door, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards when he saw Diluc.

Diluc turned to face his brother, clenching his jaw in preparation for the relentless teasing he's recieved for the past few days.

Diluc made the fatal mistake of glancing over in your direction when you were talking to someone.

Kaeya picked up on this immediately. Like a sponge he soaked every single interaction between the two of you to compile into a theory of Diluc's clear infatuation over you.

As much as Diluc wished Kaeya would stop sending him playful glances each time your name was brought up, he couldn't deny some of his words held a hint of truth to them.

Although he wouldn't say ‘his eyes had their own heartbeat’ whenever he glanced at you. whatever that meant.

“Ah, Diluc! Pleasure to see you here.” Kaeya greeted. Flashing him a small grin as he sat down on the stools in front of the bar.

“I wish I could say the same to you.”

Kaeya only laughed in a placating manner.

“Brother, is that any way to treat your future best man?”

Diluc deadpanned at Kaeya's audacious words.

“What do you want?” He sighed as he threw the rag over his shoulder.

“Aside from good wine, a fine chat would do.”

Diluc swiveled around after he got Kaeya's order.

“I'm not your in house entertainment,” he spoke. “If you wanted entertainment you should've come during the weekend.”

Diluc huffed and placed the empty glass in front of Kaeya.

“Better yet, go elsewhere.”

Kaeya shrugged, “Of course Master Diluc, I'll keep that in mind for the future.”

Diluc continued to prepare Kaeya's drink. The sooner he left, the better. He didn't need to hear his incessant teasing.

If he glanced back, he might've seen Kaeya's gaze locked onto his gloves.

Kaeya carefully investigated the lumps of fabric. Was it just the light playing tricks on him, or did that seem like the outline of a ring?

Soon the tavern door opened again, and Diluc resists the urge to sigh.

Yes this is his job, but that doesn't mean he has to enjoy all parts of it.

Diluc sets Kaeya's drink in front of him, his gaze raised ever so slightly.

Then it locks on yours. You look like how he expects you to. You bring him a warmth him pyro vision could never mimic.

Then he remembered who else was in the room with him. He gave you a curt nod, trying to indicate something to you.

“Suddenly the atmosphere feels a lot colder.” Kaeya said.

You cleared your throat, a small black box in your hand. Wrapped in a gorgeous red velvet colored flat of fabric. You fiddled absent-mindedly with the ribbon.

“Sorry Kaeya, I was just a bit distracted.”

He smiled as he turned to the side, giving him a better view of both Diluc and you.

Diluc adjusted his tie, and brushed his hair back. Something he clearly didn't think much of. (Unlike the man that stared at him as he did so.)

He huffed amused. ”Don't worry about it Mx. [Name], at least with your company I won't have to worry about someone brooding anymore.”

Diluc shot Kaeya a glare from the corner of his eye.

‘Don't say anything you'll regret.’

Kaeya only smirked.

‘I rarely regret a thing I've said.’

You cleared your throat at the poorly disguised tension in the room. Snapping Diluc out of his in-between conversation with Kaeya.

“Good evening.” You greeted the both of them.

You walked over to one of the wooden stools. It was solid, carefully made so that even with the hours of use it acquired over its long carrier of chairness you couldn't find a single trace of weathering or possible splinters.

“So what brings you here? I didn't take you for a drinker.” Kaeya hums, taking a small sip of his wine.

You shake your head, “I'm not here to have a drink, dealing with a hangover tomorrow would be horrible.” You shivered.

“Do you not handle your alcohol well?”

“Kaeya.” Diluc scolds.

“What? I'm making conversation.”

“Don't make me kick you out.”

Kaeya sighed, curling his bottom lip into a pout in an exaggerated fashion.

“I haven't even finished my drink yet, surely you'd let me enjoy this first.”

You smiled at the interaction.

And just for a second Diluc's eyes met yours. You were looking at him so.. openly? He couldn't decipher that stare of yours. He could feel the slight amusement in your stare.

You were such a force of confusion in his life, but with you he didn't need much reason. His ears tilted red with each second longer your eyes met together.

You took pity on him, breaking eye contact first. “I'm not a lightweight, I just tend to go overboard.”

Kaeya chuckles at the clarification. “Aha I see.”

You placed the box onto the counter, the sound amplified by the silence that shrouded the room.

Diluc leaned over the counter of the bar, he used his elbow as a prop for his head. He blinked at the foreign object. A slight intrigue made him want to open it.

But… three's a crowd.

Clearly that sentiment slid out of his brain, bouncing around the room before it pointedly made its way to Kaeya.

He paused before sighing. “As much as I would love to indulge in these tendencies I do have some work to get back to.” Kaeya placed the mora he owed onto the table, before taking out a flash attached at his hip and pouring the rest of the wine down it.

“Ah, already?” You murmured.

“Unfortunately so.” He nods, “Very well then, see you both soon.”

You both bid him goodbye, and he sent a wink(you think??) in Diluc's direction.

As soon as you both hear the click of the door the atmosphere concentrates around the two people in the room. Both of you relax, a breath of shared comfort between the two of you.

You nudge the box closer to Diluc, his red hair falling against his face slightly as he tilts his head in your direction.

Archons you really need to know how he keeps it so well maintained..?

“This is?” He picks the box up in his hands, it feels miniscule in his palm.

“For you.” You said simply.

He blinked, “What's the occasion?”

You shook your head, “It reminded me of you.”

He hesitated. A gift from you wasn't a rarity, yet it still felt odd each time he recieved one just… because?

He opened the box, it was two things. A hairpin. It was a solid metal, the imagery of a flower with its petals dyed red. Golden accents adorned the sides. It shimmered in regality with the dimmed lighting of the tavern glinting against the metal.

The next piece was made in similar fashion. The silhouette mimicked the frame of the hairpin but in a much more minimalistic fashion. It was a gorgeous deep red, a notable tie clasp.

“These.. are beautiful, [Name].” He said.

You agreed, “So, you're calling yourself beautiful?”

“...”

Before he could sigh from exasperation he saw the teasing glint in your eyes. “If that's what you see me as, I can't help but not trust your judgement.” He leaned further into you, a small smirk playing against his lips.

You felt your face warm up, for a guy that was so content with shrouding himself in intrigue and mystery, his eyes betrayed that reputation.

They were so clear, if you looked directly into them you might've seen the mini Diluc’s running around scrambling to formulate his thought process.

The ombre of red and orange harmonized into a blazing ichor that threatened to swallow you whole.

He looked back at you, and you swore his eyes burned through your soul. His features were so tightly knit in comparison to his wide red eyes.

“You're not being fair right now.. stop looking at me like that.” You huffed.

“Don't you spend your time searching for the beauties of this world? Don't tell me you've given up on that goal already.”

This guy… he could be cunning when he wanted to.

You didn't allow yourself to falter, seeing this as a battle risking life or death. There was no way you weren't going to win this battle of flustering the other. (Diluc didn't even know what the hell you were thinking.)

You used your sword, otherwise known as your hand to stab his heart.(read: grab his tie.) You pulled it ever so slightly closer to you. Ignoring how

You huff, leaning over the counter to grab him by his tie. He jolted at the sudden action, his torso angled over the bar, his hands moved closer to his waist, holding onto the edge of the wooden panel to steady himself.

Your fingers make their way closer to his neck, never straying from the fabric of his tie. He swallowed thickly as he watched you concentrate on fixing it.

As much as he doubts there was nothing wrong with the way he tied it, he.. appreciates the way you look up at him, just for a split second.

“Of course I haven't.” You said.

Diluc saw your lips move before he could hear you. He snapped out of his daze, the proximity between the two of you reduced to the length of a ring finger.

“I haven’t taken a picture of you.”

Diluc pulled away, noticing how you already clipped the pin onto his tie.

You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent the chuckles of amusement from slipping out. He had turned away from you, it was a desperate attempt to hide his reddened skin.

More than ever is he glad you two are the only ones in the tavern.

You see him rub his face, the traces of red starting to dissipate from his neck and ears. You can't help but smile. You can't tell you're smiling because of his reaction, or the fact he's allowing you to see him like this.

“[Name]..” He turns back to you, his lips pursed together.

“Diluc” You responded, taking in his full appearance.

The gentle slopes of his face, the harsh curves of his jaw and nose. They all worked together in a polyphony to create the the person you admire so dearly.

“Ah, that reminds me. Unfortunately I have a business trip to attend in a fortnight.” You broke the silence of the room.

He lowered his head to meet your gaze.

“Should I bring anything back for you? A gift.. a recipe.. I'm sure I could learn to cook something for you.” You offered. Diluc's face paled.

The thought of you cooking something for him used to be a pleasant fantasy. But seeing it in practice turned any thought of you stepping into the kitchen into a nightmare.

You might as well have had a pyro vision the way the stove went up in flames.

“I… appreciate the sentiment.” He grimaced. “If anything, I wish you to return to me safely.”

You smiled back at him, bemusement tracing the corners of your mouth.

“Of course. I'll make sure to have a good time as well!”

He hummed. “Don't slack off.”

“I won't I swear–!” You exclaim, jabbing your finger in his face.

You both continue to talk, in a way only the two of you know of each other. Barriers and walls broken to build a bridge between the two of you.

These words are a well kept secret between the two of you, at least for now.

You leave the tavern when more people begin to filter in as the sun sets.

Time truly didn't stop for anyone. It wasn't long before Diluc had to bid you goodbyes. Time failed to capture the moments he spent with you leading up to that.

A month had already passed since you left, his favorite place to be during that time was at the dawn winery. Letters you wrote came to him every other day.

You were safe, and it sounded like you were enjoying the time you spent in fontaine. He no longer had to relive the first week of sleepless nights worrying about your well being.

He was in the dawn winery again, a newer letter in his hands. Diluc traced the wax seal, one he specially commissioned for you.

He began to peel it off, a twinge of eagerness coated his fingers in a newfound fervor.

Just before he could read your letter, he heard a familiar high pitched voice.

“Master Diluc would totally help us!”

Was that..?

“The traveler maybe, but you and I are on the same level!”

He looked up to see the traveler and their floating companion, along with venti matching their pace.

From the corner of the doorway he could just barely make out Adelinde's sheepish expression.

“Traveller, it's good to see you here.” Diluc greeted, resisting the urge to sigh at the interruption.

He subtly slipped the envelope on the dining table behind him.

“Hey! How come Paimon doesn't get a hello?” She huffed, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

“Hello Paimon. Venti.”

“Told you.” Venti shook his head, ignoring Paimon's pointed glare.

Traveler quickly spoke up before Paimon could get provoked, “We have something to give you.” They handed an envelope to Diluc.

He quirked a brow as he looked it over, undoubtedly from you.

Diluc hasn't been keeping tabs on The Traveler's journey, but something must have led them into Fontaine..

He let himself open it— the wax lifted under the nail of his finger.

Eagerness. Anticipation. You're right by his side– he swears. You play with his senses to a degree he cannot fathom. As he stares at the photocard of a few scones, he imagines he's sat across from you.

He could practically hear your indecisive ramblings about what to get. ‘The beignets sound tasty– oh but what about the blueberry scones? I'm not feeling for blueberries though..”

“Can't believe the traveler's been demoted from honorary knight to delivery service!”

For a second you coat him in a warmth– so entirely reminiscent of you. Diluc grieves the nights devoid of you.

“It's a noble job Paimon, I'm pretty sure you've made Diluc's week!”

Even before he saw your name signed at the back, he knew it was from you. He covered his mouth. He could recognize you in fields towered higher than his gaze. It's yours. You. You. You. You.

“Eeh? Whaddya–?”

Diluc looks up (unfortunately,) to see the black, amber, and green eyes looking back at him.

“Diluc must really like Mx. [Name]’s letter.”

The traveler breaks the silence.

“Now I'm curious, what could they have written to awoke such a reaction out of him, any theories?” Venti playfully questioned.

“Maybe it's a love letter!” The pixie answered with too much giddiness.

“It's definitely blackmail.” The blond smirked. (Furrowed brows? Check! Gotta be something incriminating.)

“It's neither.” Diluc deadpanned. “Don't make such uninformed guesses.”

“Uninformed? But Mx. [Name] said they'd sent a buncha letters! But they haven't gotten a response.” Paimon insisted, the unspoken words of ‘Diluc would totally ignore someone's constant love letters if he had the choice.’ underlined her speech.

“The trip from Mondtsadt to Fontaine is a long one, I only started to receive their letters two weeks ago.” Diluc shook his head, (a poor attempt to quell the fairy's theorizing.)

“We could always pass on a message?” The traveler offered.

“I wouldn't mind!” Venti chirped.. for some reason?

Paimon grumbled, “you're not included in this Tone-Deaf Bard!”

“ Eh? I was planning on visiting Fontaine soon anyways.” Venti replied, pouting only to further provoke the floating child.

Diluc quickly cleared his throat, (just in time to prevent the childish duo from bickering with each other.)

“If the traveller is offering, I do have something I want to give to [Name].”

Venti squinted, but didn't say anything.

“Of course,” The traveler agreed.

Diluc quickly drafted a note, not taking long to compile his thoughts into words meant for you.

The group continued to talk amongst themselves, bidding Diluc their goodbyes after he handed them the note enclosed in an envelope.

He saw them off to the door, leaving them with one final parting message, to not open it.

He saw them walk off into the distance. Diluc sighed as they left– relief admittedly washed over him.

But it was short lived.

The recognizable high pitched wails of the ivory haired tag-a-long was enough to confirm he'd have a lot to talk to you about as soon as you returned.

It must've been a millenia till you returned

The breeze of Mondstadt made each step you took feel lighter. You could smell the scent wafting from good hunter's the moment you passed the gate.

You barely noticed the few pointed looks in your direction. One coming from a hard to remember face. (who was wondering who she was supposed to be jealous of.)

You ignored it, only wanting to do one thing. You practically floated into the tavern where you asked a certain someone to meet you when you came back.

You walked into the tavern, the brazen hours of daylight left behind you.

“Nice to meet you again, Diluc.”

His eyes snapped to your person, widening at the sight despite your predicted arrival. He got out of the area behind the bar to take you into a warm embrace.

No matter your stature, getting hugged by Diluc feels like a blanket covering you, protecting you from the outside world. He takes over your senses, the warmth of being home.

“I suppose you miss me?” You muttered after he pulled away. He was close enough to hear even the slightest change in your breathing.

“More than I could ever admit.” He breathed out, more than glad to have you back.

“Did anything exciting happen while I was gone?”

He sucked in his teeth with a slight furrow of his brows. “I wish it was more mundane actually.”

“Huh. Tell me more?”

You both made your way to one of the multiples of empty tables. You both spoke in hushed whispers despite there not being a single person to overheat.

“I'm sorry, dear.” Diluc apologized, his head resting in his hand, his fingers covering a bit of his eye. Red bangs would have fallen on top of his calloused digits if not for the familiar hairclip pinning them back.

“Don't be sorry, it wasn't your fault at all.” You let your fingers rest on the side of his face, tilting his head to look into your eyes.

He had told you about the incident, how Paimon's curiosity led to the whole of Mondstadt knowing the most eligible bachelor wasn't a bachelor at all.

It didn't help that the first line was ‘To my dearly beloved,’ unmistakably written by him.

It wasn't long before the ‘secret’ spread along Mondstadt's greatest gossipers, Diluc was out of stock.

“I understand you didn't want this kind of publicity, but I'm okay with it.” You insisted.

He looked at you, his eyes weary with exhaust. Whether it was because he was worried over your reaction or the scandal seeping his energy, you didn't know.

“[Name], you don't need to pretend it's fine, we agreed this would be a secret.” Diluc grumbled.

You remember that vow, the publicity of dating one of Mondstadt's most notable figures would have been incredibly pressuring.

You didn't know if you were ready for that.

“It was something I expected if I'm being honest. I'm well prepared, love.” After all, if you were to progress your relationship to the next level, it would be an even bigger shock if Diluc was secretly married.

Maybe this was for the best..?

You put your hand onto the table, your palm facing up as he moved his hand to meet yours, keeping his grip on your palm secure.

“No matter what happens, we'll do it together, okay?” You vowed.

Diluc looked at you warmly. Even without a pyro vision, you don't think he'd ever be cold to you.

A beat of silence passed, and he rubbed the back of your palm with his thumb. His glove rubbed against the peak of your knuckles.

“You look tired,” He whispered listlessly.

You bantered, “I could say the same for you.”

You both stood up, Diluc kept his hand locked in yours. “Let's go home.”

And you couldn't want anything more.

I HAVE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR TOO LONG IM SO GLAD ITS OUT OF MY DRAFTS

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aventurineswife · 3 days ago

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hcs of aventurine, sunday or ratio with insomniac! reader? like genuinely cannot fall asleep!!

hsr brain rotting due to me functioning on null hours of sleep i'm about to shed this mortal shell and reach godhood

“Sleep is for the weak, but so is the heart”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Headcanons, Insomniac!Reader, Insomnia, Comfort, Unconventional Remedies, Emotional Support, Gentle Care, Gentle Humor, Gentle Physical Comfort, Inner Vulnerability.

Warnings: May contain sensitive themes related to insomnia and emotional vulnerability.

Aventurine treats your insomnia as another high-stakes gamble. He’ll sit at your bedside, smirking, and offer wild solutions like, “Why not bet on the exact hour you’ll finally fall asleep? Loser makes breakfast!” It’s half-serious, half a distraction, and completely Aventurine.

On sleepless nights, he indulges you in card games or teaches you his convoluted strategies for dice and roulette. While you’re shuffling cards, he subtly analyzes your movements, using the distraction to ease your frustration over not sleeping.

Aventurine experiments with unconventional methods to help you relax. He once narrated his most dramatic business gambles in a low, soothing tone, claiming his "tales of triumph" would lull you to sleep. Despite yourself, his smooth voice and vivid storytelling sometimes work.

Though he masks it with humor, Aventurine deeply worries about your health. On especially bad nights, you’ll catch him glancing at you with an uncharacteristic softness before covering it up with a grin. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re tougher than sleepless nights. Take it from me—I thrive on them.”

When sleep is impossible, Aventurine leans into his reflective side. He’ll muse about the unpredictability of life, framing it as an elaborate gamble. His insights may not make you sleepy, but they leave you feeling strangely comforted.

Aventurine once gifted you a custom sleep mask embroidered with tiny dice and cards, saying, “Even if you can’t sleep, you might as well look the part.” It’s so ridiculous that it makes you laugh every time you wear it

On nights when you’re truly frustrated, Aventurine softens his flamboyant facade. He’ll sit quietly with you, his hand resting lightly over yours, offering silent reassurance. He might murmur something uncharacteristically genuine like, “You’re not alone in this, you know.”

Sunday approaches your insomnia with gentle understanding. He doesn’t pressure you to sleep, instead encouraging you to accept the quiet moments as an opportunity for reflection or connection. “The stars are just as beautiful at night when shared in silence,” he’ll say with a serene smile.

As a former protector of the Dreamscape, Sunday knows the power of music. On restless nights, he hums soft, ethereal tunes, his voice resonating like a calming lullaby. His wings might flutter slightly as if conducting the rhythm.

Sunday often sits by your side, his golden halo casting a soft glow in the darkness. He offers his scarf or coat for comfort, draping it over your shoulders with a whispered, “Rest, even if sleep eludes you.”

Sunday sees insomnia as an opportunity to explore your worries or thoughts. He’s an excellent listener, and his quiet encouragement helps you unburden yourself. His insights often leave you feeling lighter, even if sleep remains distant.

Sunday occasionally creates small rituals to help you find peace. He’ll light candles and guide you through breathing exercises, using his halo’s glow to create a tranquil atmosphere. “Even a restless soul deserves moments of light,” he reminds you.

Despite his calm demeanor, Sunday struggles with seeing you in discomfort. His eyes reflect subtle worry, but he keeps his concerns to himself, not wanting to add to your burden. Instead, he doubles down on his quiet support, always staying until you feel at ease.

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seitmai · 3 days ago

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Oh man so many thoughts (very late but I'm trying🥲)

"You feeling okay? How's Nugget Part Deux?" "We're exhausted. Rose is the only one with energy right now."

Nugget Part Deux, that's so cute🥹🥰

A sardonic laugh almost burst from his lips. "Baby Girl, I worry about you and Rosie and the new baby constantly. Okay? Nonstop. But we can't go back now. You're already almost in the second trimester. Hey," he said, swallowing hard as you finally turned and looked at him. He held Rose just a little tighter as he whispered, "We're married. We're happy, right? You're not actually thinking about ending your pregnancy, are you?" "No," you replied quickly, shaking your head. Bradley desperately wanted to know if there was some way he could make this easier for you, because he didn't want you to resent what was happening. But you just started crying as you shrugged again. "I just feel like our timing is terrible. And I know I have to start telling people, because I'm already showing a little bit, but I'm just so frustrated, Bradley."

I truly get the frustration...

He never dreamed the two of you would go from trying for months to get pregnant with Rose to being frustrated about a second pregnancy, but here you were. "I realize you've got to do most of the work right now, but when I tell you that I want another baby and that I'm excited about this, I mean it." "I know!" you whispered quickly. "I know." You swiped at your tears before wrapping your arms around him and Rose.

A family group hug is what she needed in that moment 🫶🏻

"Is something else bothering you?" he murmured when your cheek came to rest on his bicep. He couldn't imagine what else could be the matter, but he needed to make sure.

This is your chance!!

Your parents broke out into twin grins. "I'm assuming this was a surprise to the two of you?" your dad asked. When you nodded silently, he added, "A happy surprise at least! Congratulations. You're about to have your hands very full."

Not them being called out on the surprise lmao

"It's a good thing we're moving!" your mom practically shrieked. "Two under two! Two babies! What if you have twins?" "We're not," Bradley replied. Then he froze. "It's not twins. Right, Sweetheart?" Now he was a little scared as you turned to look at him and laugh. His shoulders sagged in relief. "I mean, the more the merrier, but that would be a lot."

Ahaha the panic

"Lieutenant Commander Mustache is working with some high fucking quality goods, huh?" Cam marveled, shaking his head slowly in reverence. "Congratulations."

This cracked me up haha

Your thumb ran along the top of your leggings as you started to cry. You needed to pull yourself together. Did you cry this much with Rose? Did everything make you feel like you looked disgusting? Eventually you dozed for about an hour before the sound of the front door closing jolted you awake. Rose started screaming, probably hungry after being out for so long. You rolled out of bed, avoiding your reflection in the mirror at all costs, and went to meet them in the kitchen.

🥺🥺🥺

The idea of going out and pretending that you were drinking alcohol was too much to handle. Even if you could find someone to watch Rose, it didn't sound like a fun time. He glanced up and said, "I don't want to go without you."

Right answer on Bradley's part

You rolled your eyes as Rose switched to your other side. It was easy to feel better about things when it was just the three of you at home. You looked at your husband as he ate an apple in four bites and convinced yourself he would never do anything to hurt you. Then he drank half a beer and belched while he adjusted his junk, and you thought perhaps nobody else would want to deal with him anyway. "What do you mean where?" he scoffed, tugging again. "To take a shower with me while Rose naps. Where else?" "Right there," you whispered, and he closed his eyes. Your heart beat in your ears, an undeniably excited rhythm. "I can't wait to feel it, too," he murmured, his cheek coming to rest against his hand. "You couldn't feel Rose this early."

🥰🥰🥰

"Sounds good." He kissed you before unbuckling and leaning into the backseat to kiss his daughter. He was still shocked and in a mild daze over the baby moving during the shower. He wanted to feel those kicks against his palm, and now he'd be all over you in the upcoming weeks, looking for his chance.

He is obsessed 🥰

"I have to run," Bradley announced, dropping his cue into Jake's hand. "You're so fucking whipped," Jake drawled. "Get out of here and knock your wife up again.... oh, wait."

🤭🤭🤭

"Oh, sorry," he grunted, nearly plowing over someone in his rush to get to the parking lot. Then Nat burst through the door, movements slowing when she met his eyes. "You left your phone on the pool table." She tossed it to him, coordination pretty good for how much she'd had to drink. She started backing up toward the door as she said, "You better go home with your pregnant wife!" Bradley smiled at his friend, but he could feel Indigo's eyes on him as he stepped off the deck toward the parking lot. And there you were, standing in the first aisle with your back against the red Bronco. Your lips were set in a firm line, and Bradley was about to make it his personal mission to kiss away that expression.

Fucking Indigo

"Baby Girl," he moaned next to your ear. "Let's go home. Maybe we can get in bed and snuggle while I try to feel the baby move? Or you could let me finish what we started in the shower? I'm already so wound up."

Jake is not wrong, he is so whipped

Aim for the Sky Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Everything starts to get very real once you're able to feel the baby move. It's time to share the news of your second pregnancy with family and friends, but it's hard to feel elated when Bradley starts showing attention to one of his pilots after work hours.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, oral sex, pregnancy topics, mentions abortion, lactation kink, jealousy, drinking

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

If you weren't pregnant and exhausted, Bradley would have been concerned by how quiet you were. You seemed to need a nap as soon as you got home from work, and then you wanted to go to bed right after Rose went down in her crib each evening. When he got home quite late on Friday after working on some transfer paperwork for several hours, he was surprised to find that you seemed a little more upbeat than usual.

"Hey, Roo."

You were wearing a pair of his gym shorts while you made dinner. The house smelled delicious, and his stomach started growling as soon as he walked inside. He picked Rose up from her playmat, taking her into the kitchen as he smothered her in kisses before transferring them to you.

"You feeling okay? How's Nugget Part Deux?"

"We're exhausted. Rose is the only one with energy right now."

He supposed that was better than you telling him you couldn't stop throwing up. So far, baby number two seemed to be giving you less grief when it came to eating. "We can nap all weekend," he promised. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good," you told him with a shrug. "How was your day?"

He glanced out the back door at the enormous jungle gym, eyeing it up as an option for him and Rose to play after dinner. "Just busy. Everyone keeps me on my toes all day long. These pilots are really talented."

You seemed to wrinkle your nose at his words, staring at the food cooking on the stove as you muttered, "I'll bet they are."

Rose seemed keen on the idea of the backyard, so he kissed her soft cheek. "Yeah, I can barely keep up with them in the air, but don't tell them that. I've got my head on a swivel the whole time. Indigo and Rex nearly took me out today, and I had to go into a dive. And starting on Monday, I'm going to give myself some extra office hours to stay on top of my paperwork."

Instead of responding about his day, you started to dish out the food onto two plates with your back turned to him. "After we eat, I need to call my parents before it's too late. They're putting their house on the market next week, and I think I'm just going to tell them I'm pregnant and get it over with. I've put it off long enough."

Bradley's brow creased. "They'll be excited though. Right? I mean, maybe not as excited as me, but still excited."

You shrugged again, and he thought he might lose his mind if you kept doing it. "Aren't you at least a little worried there could be some sort of complications from having them so close together?"

"No," you replied quickly, shaking your head. Bradley desperately wanted to know if there was some way he could make this easier for you, because he didn't want you to resent what was happening. But you just started crying as you shrugged again. "I just feel like our timing is terrible. And I know I have to start telling people, because I'm already showing a little bit, but I'm just so frustrated, Bradley."

"I know!" you whispered quickly. "I know." You swiped at your tears before wrapping your arms around him and Rose.

"Is something else bothering you?" he murmured when your cheek came to rest on his bicep. He couldn't imagine what else could be the matter, but he needed to make sure.

You were silent for a few beats before whispering, "I'm fine. Let's facetime my parents."

For how excited your mom was to move to California, she didn't seem to notice that your eyes looked like you'd been crying. She kept talking about selling their furniture and packing everything up. She mentioned how much she wanted to see Rose in person as she fussed over her on the video call. Just as she was starting to discuss their new house in Coronado that would make them his neighbors, Bradley heard you blurt out, "I'm pregnant."

Your parents both looked stunned on the other end of the call. "You're pregnant," your mom said, eyes drifting back to Rose in Bradley's arms. "Already?"

Now both parents were staring at Bradley as he said, "Yeah... due in April."

"April Fool's Day," you said softly.

"It's a good thing we're moving!" your mom practically shrieked. "Two under two! Two babies! What if you have twins?"

"We're not," Bradley replied. Then he froze. "It's not twins. Right, Sweetheart?" Now he was a little scared as you turned to look at him and laugh.

"There was just one heartbeat, Roo. Just one."

His shoulders sagged in relief. "I mean, the more the merrier, but that would be a lot."

He let Rose nap against his chest while he rubbed circles against your lower back, and soon enough, your parents were ending the call with the promise that they would be in Coronado for Christmas. "We'll either be living there by then or we'll fly out for the holiday if our house here hasn't sold yet."

Everything sounded good to Bradley, and five minutes after the call ended, you fell asleep on him, too.

----------------------------

When you fell asleep on Cam's shoulder at brunch on Sunday, you figured it was time to tell him and Maria what was going on.

"I'm pregnant. Again."

Maria jumped out of her seat to cram into the opposite of the booth, sandwiching you between her and Cam. "Damn, girl! You've wasted no time!"

"Lieutenant Commander Mustache is working with some high fucking quality goods, huh?" Cam marveled, shaking his head slowly in reverence. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," you whispered, voice harsh and near tears. You had no control over your emotions. This was just like when you were pregnant with Rose, but with less vomiting and more fatigue. Everything made you upset enough that you wanted to cry or angry enough that you wanted to kick down a door. Including your husband.

You answered Cam and Maria's questions as you thought about that woman you'd seen around base with Bradley a few times. They were never alone, always part of a larger group, but you didn't like how she looked at him. And you didn't want to mention it to him, because you knew how ridiculous it was going to sound.

"Hey, I'm really tired," you eventually told your friends. "Do this again in two weeks?" You wanted to go home and nap while Bradley still had Rose out for a walk along the beach. You just wanted to be alone.

"Of course," Maria promised. "I'll text Bob to come pick me up, but you two can go on ahead."

"I'll wait with you," Cam told her, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You made your way out and went home, leaning against the front door in relief when you found the house completely empty. Even Tramp and his yellow leash were gone. You ran to bed, curled up under the covers, and cradled your hand against your belly. It was impossible to tell if you had a baby bump, or if you were still chubby from last time.

Bradley was trying to bounce Rose to keep her quiet, but you yanked your shirt off and reached for her. "Sorry," he muttered as your daughter latched on to eat as soon as she was touching you. "I tried."

"It's okay."

You fed one baby while you considered that her younger sibling was growing inside you, and for once, you couldn't figure out if you wanted to laugh or cry.

While she ate, Bradley looked at his phone and groaned. "Nat wants us to go to the Hard Deck tonight."

The idea of going out and pretending that you were drinking alcohol was too much to handle. Even if you could find someone to watch Rose, it didn't sound like a fun time.

"You go," you told him.

He glanced up and said, "I don't want to go without you."

A smile graced your lips as you told him, "Just go for one drink with your best friend. I'll drop you off and pick you up. You can tell her I'm pregnant if you want to."

"Really?" he asked, perking up like Tramp did when presented with a treat.

"Yeah. I told Maria and Cam earlier. I actually fell asleep on his shoulder in the booth, and when I woke up, they were both gaping at me. I figured I needed to say something."

Bradley snorted. "What did they have to say about Bradshaw Baby number two?"

"Cam is under the impression that you are working with some high quality equipment."

He burst into laughter. "I mean..."

"I'll text Nat back. Then I'll pull the weeds around the playset while I decide what I'm doing about the bar."

You let Rose take a nap, but now that you'd also had one, you felt a little restless. Even after you did a few chores, including looking at items for a second baby nursery online, you wanted to get out of the house again. When Bradley came inside, stripping his sweaty shirt over his head, he said, "One drink. Don't leave me there too long, okay?"

"Is Jake going, too? Maybe I'll see if Cat and Jer are home and want visitors."

"That's a great idea," he replied, taking your hand when he walked past. When he gave you a little tug, you didn't move. "You coming?" he asked, clearly puzzled.

"Where?"

"What do you mean where?" he scoffed, tugging again. "To take a shower with me while Rose naps. Where else?"

It was hard to think about anything when your husband was on his knees in front of you, steamy water swirling around his tattooed bicep while his hands pinned you to the tile wall. But it was especially hard to focus on anything other than the feel of his mouth on your body. The scrape of his mustache. The pull of his lips. Soft and demanding and needy.

"Roo," you gasped, lungs full of the humid air, sucking in deep breaths as he looked up at you.

"God, Baby Girl," he rasped, thumb teasing your dainty rooster tattoo. "I'm so spoiled. Your tits look so pretty, and your belly will be big again soon."

You let your fingers drag through his wet curls, pushing them back from his forehead while he kissed the spot where you felt so tender as the baby grew.

"Roo!" you gasped, your hands both flying to your belly. "The baby! I can feel the baby moving!"

"Shit, really?"

His eyes were wide, alert with anticipation as you moved his palm to the spot where you could feel squirming. He eased himself closer on his knees, the shower hitting both of you with warm spray while he let you guide him. You felt it again, just another squirm as you pressed his palm harder to your belly.

"Right there," you whispered, and he closed his eyes. Your heart beat in your ears, an undeniably excited rhythm.

"I can't wait to feel it, too," he murmured, his cheek coming to rest against his hand. "You couldn't feel Rose this early."

"No," you agreed, watching your husband fall even more in love with the unborn baby. "Maybe another week or two and they'll be big enough for you to feel it." You played with his hair, letting him stay put until the water started to get cold.

-------------------------------

"I'll pick you up in a little while," you informed Bradley when you pulled into the parking lot at the Hard Deck. "Jake is already here, so I'll take Rose to hang out with Cat and Jer for a bit."

"Have fun," you called before pulling away in your Bronco, but going to the bar to hang out without you was not his idea of a great night. He decided he'd just wait and see how the evening progressed before making a decision about telling Nat about the pregnancy. He smiled as he wondered how long it would be until you had to start wearing the maternity tent to work again.

"There you are!" shouted Nat when he walked past the bar, waving to Penny. "We're about to play pairs. You're with Hangman. Rack 'em, Rooster."

Bradley sighed and took the pool cue as she thrust it into his hand. "Can't I get a beer first?"

She turned and shouted, "Hey, Coyote! Get Rooster one!"

Javy saluted him from the bar as Bradley nodded and settled in to start the game. He and Jake wouldn't even have to try too hard to beat Nat and Reuben, but as he got into the groove of things, he realized he was having a pretty good time.

"You want another?" Jake asked him, and soon one beer turned into three. Bradley ended up buying the fourth round for his friends when Mickey arrived. He had enough in his system to not give a shit when Jake started ribbing on him for his new position at work.

"The way your students all jump to attention when they see you has got to be the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life," he drawled, and Bradley nudged his foot, making him miss his shot.

"I'm still in shock that Cat agreed to marry you," Bradley replied before taking a sip of beer.

Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised Angel let you get her pregnant. Shocked the baby didn't come out with a mustache."

Nat was cackling while Bradley snorted. "She's pregnant again." The words slipped out, but they felt too fucking good on his tongue, just like your body had in the shower.

"What?!"

He was instantly surrounded by his friends while Nat wrapped him up in a hug. "Are you serious? Another one so soon?" she asked with a suspicious looking smirk.

"Yeah," he replied, letting her squeeze him until he thought she might displace a rib. "Apparently I'm working with some high quality equipment."

"Ew!" Nat shrieked, letting go of him while Jake shook his hand.

"Poor Angel," he drawled. "She'll have another little Bradshaw on the loose soon."

"Whiskey shots on me," Reuben said, slapping Bradley hard on the back.

"Thanks, man," he replied while conversation about the baby settled to a normal volume. He drank his shot of whiskey, and that's when he realized he was actually kind of drunk.

The game of pool wore on, but nobody seemed to be keeping track of who won. So he kept going until his phone vibrated in his jeans pocket.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I'm almost there. Rose fell asleep.

"I have to run," Bradley announced, dropping his cue into Jake's hand.

"You're so fucking whipped," Jake drawled. "Get out of here and knock your wife up again.... oh, wait."

Bradley gave him and everyone else double middle fingers behind his back as he walked toward the exit. He was tired and warm and buzzed, and he wanted to curl up next to you in bed and kiss the back of your neck. And maybe you'd let him look at your gorgeous tits. Maybe if he was really good, you'd let him taste you. The evening air hit his body, igniting so much need in him.

"Oh, sorry," he grunted, nearly plowing over someone in his rush to get to the parking lot.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," came a now familiar voice. Blue eyes flashed up at him along with a smile that kept growing.

Indigo was dressed in street clothes, but he tried not to take notice as he nodded. "I knew you'd find The Hard Deck without my help."

She laughed, bright and clear as he tried to step past her. "Don't tell me you're leaving for the night."

A little pout found her lips, and Bradley nodded. "Yeah. It's getting late for a Sunday."

"Come on," she whined, the back of her hand brushing his as he made his way around her. "Let me buy you one drink."

His mind was still gooey with thoughts of taking you to bed as he shook his head. "Thanks, but I really need to go. Enjoy your night."

Then Nat burst through the door, movements slowing when she met his eyes. "You left your phone on the pool table." She tossed it to him, coordination pretty good for how much she'd had to drink. She started backing up toward the door as she said, "You better go home with your pregnant wife!"

Bradley smiled at his friend, but he could feel Indigo's eyes on him as he stepped off the deck toward the parking lot. And there you were, standing in the first aisle with your back against the red Bronco. Your lips were set in a firm line, and Bradley was about to make it his personal mission to kiss away that expression.

------------------------------

That younger woman was here with him. You'd seen her around base plenty of times lately, but now she was here. At the Hard Deck. At your favorite bar in your neighborhood. She was with your husband at the bar. They were already standing there together when you drove up and parked.

"Who is that woman?" you snapped at Bradley who was clearly drunk. His hands were all over your waist and hips as soon as he reached you.

"Hey, Sweetheart." His voice was deep and sexy, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into him, but she was still staring you down.

"Who. Is. She?" you hissed, your eyes starting to burn with unshed tears as you stared back. Bradley was kissing your neck now as the woman finally turned and went inside the bar. You already knew who she was. You were sure of it. You'd heard him use her call sign countless times, but you wanted him to say it now. "Bradley!"

"Huh?" he grunted, meeting your eyes.

"Who is that woman you were just with?"

"Natasha?" he asked, and you wanted to scream.

"The other woman, Bradley."

"Oh. That's Indigo."

Your heart sank as soon as he confirmed it for you, but he didn't seem to notice or care that you suddenly felt like your skin was on fire. That woman who was still so fresh out of flight school was already a top pilot, and she was beautiful, and she wanted your husband.

You opened the passenger side door for him, slamming it shut as soon as he was inside. You glared at the entrance to the Hard Deck before heading around the Bronco to drive him home.

-----------------------------

Either way, it still looks bad, Bradley. We are riding along with all of BG's emotions, and it's a lot to handle. Thanks for reading. More coming soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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eclipseberrycake · 2 days ago

Text

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 10

AN: There was a request for how they all said I love you and I decided I wanted to do it :) I'm trying to decide how I want the timeline of like the serious/lore stuff to go, and if I want to do it now or wait. I'm almost at 150 followers so maybe I'll do it for that :D

This was a request but atp it's just as much for me as it is for y'all

Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five -> Part Six -> Part Six 1/2 -> Part Seven -> Part Eight -> Part Nine -> Part Nine 1/2

Warning: Cosmo's bit gets a little steamy idk what happened maybe im ovulating or sum./hj

☁ I love relationship building so much. You guys have no idea, especially with Food Coma boys. (Which is also apparently one of their ship names omg???)

☁ So, I think it's easiest to honestly go one by one with these boys. As I've established before, they each have their own things and moments with each other as well, just to note, so like please don't think this relationship is they're all in love with Reader and not each other. I had someone message me with concerns regarding that, and I just wanna clear the air! They all love each other and Reader very much and are one big happy unit :D So I hope this kind of help mends any questions because I tried adding more...yk MBC moments without reader involved! (That sounds bad but you'll see)

☁ That being said, they all get their own moments FIRST. And while Sprout got you all together, Astro is the catalyst for most of it. Cosmo has his own moments later, dw.

☁ He's a quiet guy, don't get that wrong, but he's such a lover. He's so used to hiding in the background and hoping people don't notice him because he was so insecure about himself, his personality, his looks and thoughts and opinions and-

☁ He was just...scared of the world, he supposes. But you three had a way of just...making it better. Not so scary.

☁ He shows his love in a variety of ways. Small acts of service and physical touch are big ones, quality time too. He absolutely adores just...being with you guys in any capacity. He doesn't like to make big spectacles about his love for you all, but he does love making sure you all know it. So if that takes something a little more obvious then what he's used to doing, he's willing to do it.

☁ He says it to Cosmo first, suckas. It's not something he plans, no, it just slips out. They're in the middle of the first (of what would become many) horror movie nights they'd share, just the two of them. Sprout was busy with plans he previously made with Vee and you encourage the two of them to spend some time alone just the two of them, taking Coal and Pebble to the training room for some exercise.

☁ Cosmo's energy is not as vibrant as yours and Sprouts, it's much softer and gentler, a welcoming embrace despite the tense atmosphere of the room. They had set up on the bed, with snacks and drinks at the ready, leaning against a mountain of pillows cuddled up against each other. The movie was mid at best, with cheap attempts at scares, but they joked it would make you and Sprout jump just the same.

☁ There was a lull in the movie where Cosmo was telling him about Razzle and Dazzle's recent attempt at comedy when it just...slipped? Maybe it was the reflection of Cosmo's eyes, the reflection from the duo of colors or just the way he used his hands to emphasize his distaste with the finn-esque puns they attempted, but it bubbled up and spilt out before he could stop it.

☁ "I love you." It was as simple as that, just those three words, but they made Cosmo stop all the same. He stilled, blinked and immediately snapped all of his attention to Astro, who was just about to fly into a flurry of apologies and pleas to just forget about it, but he was stopped by the feeling of Cosmo's lips pressing against his, his curled tail wagging wildly behind him.

☁ When he pulled away, his eyes shined with tears even as Astro wiped away the ones he could. "Oh, nightlight, I love you too."

☁ Sprout was next for Astro. The two mains already previously had a relationship, so they fell back into step pretty easily, the only difference really being more physical touch between them. They're used to spending time together, so when you and Cosmo are away on a common's exclusive run, it's no skin off their teeth.

☁ Before looking through old files and things, I imagine Sprout uses Astro as a taste tester as, unlike you and Cosmo, he'll be honest with him about adjustments that need to be made. Sprout has him relatively trained enough to tell if there's too much salt, too much butter, if it's overmixed or not folded well enough.

☁ So they use the opportunity to try more...temperamental recipes. Macrons are at the top of Sprout's list, constantly trying, and subsequently failing, to perfect the twitchy cookie. This was the fourth session of trying.

☁ Astro has no issues regarding this as he gets the failed cookies regardless and he gets to spend one on one time with Sprout, so a win is a win in his book.

☁ Plus, seeing the berry's leaves up in a ponytail stirs something fluttery in Astro's gut that he doesn't quite want to address just yet, much less when he adds a bandana to keep the smaller bits at bay.

☁ It all seemed to be going well, up until Sprout pulled the cookies out, only to look absolutely crushed at the concaved shells and lack of feet. The tray is practically thrown onto the counter as Sprout passes, Astro clicking his tongue sympathetically as he welcomes the defeated berry into his chest, wrapping his cloak around him. Astro is only half convinced he won't cry, but will be there even if he does.

☁ "I hate these stupid cookies." Sprout mumbles, and Astro hums. "And the French." Astro hums again, refraining from voicing the thought that there's no way the entirety of France is to blame here.

☁ "It's okay. Flat cookies or not, I still love you." He mumbled back, brushing back the strands in the ponytail, watching the greenery bounce back- rather amused by it until Sprout is suddenly pulling away, hands racing to squeeze the celestials cheeks. "What?!"

☁ "I-" Sprout shakes his head, not letting Astro continue. "No, I heard it. I'm mostly bummed because how did you beat me?!"

☁ "Beat you?"

☁ "I was supposed to say it to you first!" The berry, dare he say, whines, throwing his head back before it's whipping forward, slowing before it collides with the Celestial's own heads, gently laying against his forehead. "I love you, Astro Novalite. Never forget it, yeah?"

☁ "Or what?" Astro teases, barely getting another word before Sprout is on him, hands still holding his cheeks as his lips swallow Astro's own laughter.

☁ Now, welcome back to the story, Reader :). We missed you! As an apology for kicking you out momentarily to watch the boys be boys in love, lets start you off with ASTRO >:D

☁ I have a favorite, if you couldn't tell. (It's all of them and I struggle to split the parts between each of their POVS)

☁ So for you, Astro doesn't approach it the same way. No, he owes you so much for so many reasons and needs something much further. You were the one who got the majority of the research to bring him back, having to distract his twisted form over and over and over again. You were the one to use the antidote, cornering him and carrying him back to the elevator. You were the one to ease him back into the swing of things, playing guard dogs when the other commons became a bit too much for him so soon after his return. You were there, with Cosmo of course, during the entirety of his recovery, sneaking him treats and threading tales of the runs you've done to keep him entertained.

☁ It's not as graceful as you think.

☁ Sprout and Cosmo are in the kitchen and you're laying down for a midday nap, inviting Astro to come with since you know he, more than anyone, loves a good nap. He eagerly accepts, walking with you back to your room with a little skip in his step.

☁ Except for the first time...ever, he can't sleep. You're already dozing beside him, chest rising and falling with your back moving in time with under the hand he's keeping between your shoulders. He's practically thrumming with energy as if he used his own ability on himself.

☁ He thinks for a moment what you normally do when he's asleep and you're feeling wide awake. He immediately comes to his solution, grinning.

☁ "Hey," He pokes your cheek and your brows furrow. "Hey, I need you to un-sleep for a second."

☁ "What are you going on about-" You groan, words slurring slightly as one of your eyes just barely peek open. "If I give you a kiss will you...not."

☁ "Nope." He pops his 'P', making you groan. "I need you to know how much I adore you and care for you and how if you never wake up from your dreams its because I'm living the dream by being one of the ones you chose."

☁ "If you don't wake up from your dreams, it's because I suffocated you with your pillow!" You hiss, scrunching your eyes shut much tighter as you curl into your blanket, which is really just his stolen cloak. "Now go to beeeed."

☁ "I love you." He purrs, watching in real time as your eyes pop open and stare at him. You have to hide your grin before your raising to lean on your hands. "I love you too!" You say with all the ferocity of an angry kitten.

☁ You give him a kiss, a nuzzle of your foreheads and a quick glare before laying back down on his chest, waiting a second before closing your eyes, as if daring him to speak again.

☁ "And another thing-"

☁ "OKAY-" You're sitting up again, this time planting your hands on his shoulders as he laughs up at you. "Lay down."

☁ "I'm laying down." He teases, finding too much entertainment in your reaction at having the tables turned on you. He's been awoken many a times to you leaning over him, poking him if only to tell him about how it's raining outside or some weird miniscule thing you suddenly remembered.

☁ "I love you." You start, jabbing his chest. "But I don't play like this." You sneer. Then you lay down and press a kiss to his lips once more. "You're very cute." You growl, laying back down. This time he lets you with a small chuckle, quick to follow you into dreamland.

☁ If you think that doesn't become a habit between you two, I hate to tell you. It does. Sprout and Cosmo are so over it.

☁ Sprout is next for you dear reader.

☁ It's probably sometime after Vee's retrieval, when you're supposed to be resting, but are not, sneaking into the kitchen you were banned from.

☁ Your sock padded feet are nearly silent against the tile in the kitchen, blanket swishing against the floor as you reach for the utensil drawer, grabbing a spoon before reaching into one of the cabinets, blindly reaching for your treat of choice. Your fingers wrap around it, pulling it free as you beam at it.

☁ Getting a pudding cup past Sprout these days was a challenge all on it's own, but this had been a well planned heist. Even while injured, you were relatively fast, contorting your body to escape the hold Cosmo had on you. You carefully stepped out of bed down near the foot of it, staying a few seconds just to ensure the three behind you stayed asleep. They did, with minimal scuffling to fill in the gap. You let out a sigh of relief, grabbing the blanket you planted at the end of the bed the night before before making your way to the kitchen.

☁ All for a pudding cup.

☁ Looking at said treat, you wilt a bit at what your life has come to in terms of pudding.

☁ Still, you peel it open and eagerly dig your spoon into it, bringing it to your mouth only to freeze at the eyes peering at you. You pause, stilling your actions as they blink. You blink. Then you shake your head, eyes pleading silently.

☁ "Pebs, buddy. C'mon, think of all we've been through." You plead, watching the rock stare you down. His tail wags and you think for a moment you've won.

☁ "Arf!"

☁ It echoes in the hall and you nearly sob at it. It would only wake one person, but that one person is the one you planned so hard to get around all for it to be foiled by the dog.

☁ "I hate you." You sneer at the oddly proud looking pup. " I'm giving you a bath later." The threat falls on deaf ears as Pebble runs in a circle, tail continuing to wag.

☁ He barks again, but you don't care. The damage has been done. Frankly, you really should blame Gigi. She started the whole pudding cup fiasco.

☁ Pebble runs off behind you and you take a moment for a deep breath before turning. As predicted, Sprout is there, gently scratching Pebble's chin, slipping him a treat before standing. Pebble takes it and runs off somewhere, leaving you in the clutches of the Warden. He looks at you, but rather than the normal face he has when he scolds, he's smiling. It almost looks like he's trying not to laugh.

☁ "What are you laughing at?" You snip, and he nearly breaks, shaking his head. "Your face. You look like someone kicked your puppy."

☁ You pout further and he laughs before walking over, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before continuing further into the kitchen, grabbing an apron as he goes. You watch him skeptically, eyes darting to your pudding then back to him. When he turns to check on you, haven't heard you move at all, he raises a brow. "What's up, bud?"

☁ "You're just gonna...let me have it?" You raise a brow, not trusting the situation. He scoffs good naturedly at this. "I'm honestly more surprised you aren't sick of it for life. If you want a pudding cup this morning, I won't stop you. One is where I draw the line though."

☁ You hum slowly, taking a spoonful of your treat once more and sticking it in your mouth. it makes your tail wag as you walk to the barstools around the counter, perching yourself on one as you watch Sprout work, getting everything ready for the morning.

☁ "Do you ever get tired of doing this?" You ask, tilting your head. Sprout hums at the question, turning on the coffee pot and pulling out a mug for himself. "No. I like doing it. The mornings are nice. Calm. Moreso when I have certain people joining me." He grins. "The usual for you?"

☁ You nod and he gets you your beverage of choice, pouring himself his own cup of coffee. "Waffles or pancakes?"

☁ "Waffles." You answer him, watching as he works. It's a smooth, flawless things, and one of the many things you love about him. The thought hits you like a brick, stunning you in your chair. He slides you your beverage of choice, raising an imaginary brow. "...Are you sure you're okay?"

☁ "I love you." You breath out, and his cheeks flush a darker red. "I love you, Sprout. Like a lot a lot." You blurt out and he stalls for a second, hands twitching for a second as he seems to reboot.

☁ Your knees lay on the stool as you push up to get closer to him over the counter. "Did I break you?"

☁ His hands shoot up, grabbing your cheeks and pressing a hard kiss to your lips. It dazes you just a bit as you swoon, your knees nearly giving out from under you. He catches your weight and laughs at you, gently setting you back down before rounding the counter, quickly repeating the kiss. When he pulls away he's beaming, squishing your cheeks. "I love you too, bud. Now, let's get you fed."

☁ Now, Cosmo, the sweet cinnamon roll cake roll baby bitch ass.

☁ You two, like Sprout and Astro, have a bit of a history together, so you guys spend time together all the time. Whether it's doing something like play wrestling in the bedroom, doing a workout together or lazing about playing video games, if either of you can't be found, there's a good chance you're with each other somewhere, goofing off while the other two are busy.

☁ I've established beforehand that he lets you just hang off him at all times (In the pudding part i think thats pt 3), but my personal HC is that Cosmo is jacked. He's got muscles and uses them without even trying.

☁ Like if he's cleaning and you're in the way, you're thrown over his shoulder in a fireman carry as he continues on. Astro needs help reaching a top shelf, Cosmo is there giving him a boost. Even if he's not careful, he'll life Sprout up in the middle of a hug. Like he's just so unaware of how strong he is.

☁ So you're probably with him while he's doing a quick workout, counting as he does pushups, swatting at his tail every time he raises. He flickers it back at you as he lowers, making it a game between you two.

☁ His shoulders move with every restart of the cycle, making your eyes track them and every flex of his muscles, hearing every one of his grunts.

☁ (Bro i need to be caged what is with me and Cosmo omg)

☁ You swat at his tail again and he stills at the upright position, arms shaking just a bit. "You having fun back there?"

☁ "I'm having a blast. Number 65 by the way. You having fun down there?" You tease, gently pulling the tail from it's normally curled position only to release and watch it curl right back.

☁ "Oh, just the greatest time." He grunts again, lowering once more. One of your hands moving to run down his back, pressing against each of the muscles. "Do you let the other two do this?"

☁ "Who says I let you do this?" He throws back, still for a second before raising again. You press against the muscles, feeling the firm press of them against your palm.

☁ "I do. Because you lovveeee me~." You purr, hand moving to poke at some of the sprinkles in his icing. You had chosen a few of them today.

☁ He grunts again, tail swiping a few times before he chuckles, bringing his knees under him so he can sit up. You yelp as you fall, shaking your head before shooting a glare at him.

☁ He's already smirking down at you, taking a swig from his nearby water bottle. "Maybe I do. What of it?"

☁ "You don't drop people you love first off." You scoff, immediately swallowing you next complaint as the cake roll traps you between himself and the floor.

☁ "However will I make it up to you after letting you ride my back for the past however long." He snickers before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. "I love you."

☁ Your arms wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss enough you can hear his tail pick up it's wagging pace. When you separate, you grin at him. His eyes darken at the look before he's scooping you up and standing. "I'm not letting you start something in the public gym of all places."

☁ You loudly boo. "You never let me have any fun!" You cry out dramatically before huffing, smiling at the whole of it all fondly. "But, I love you too. Kill joy or not."

☁ "Bite me." Cosmo snuffs, yelping when you do exactly as he asks.

#dandys world x reader #dandy's world x reader #astro novalite #astro x reader #astro dandys world #dandy's world astro novalite x reader #dandys world sprout #cosmo doesn't have a last name #cosmo x reader #dandy's world sprout seedly #sprout seedly x reader #sprout seedly #sprout x reader #dandy's world cosmo x reader #dandy's world cosmo #moonberrycake x reader #moonberrycake

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rain-soaked-sun · 2 days ago

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To hold him close

Cw: Sunday x reader fluff, religious imagery,thoughts of self doubt, hurt/comfort . Their bedroom has a private dressing you off the side, connecting to their bathroom WK 650 Gn , please let me know if I mention gender!

⊹︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⊹

Sunday often wonders how someone as pure as you can stand or even love a sinner such as him

It will continue to boggle him for the rest of his days. He will never understand your patience for him. He can't see you all the time because of his work, his odd habits make it hard for even the most understanding people to take. He can be snappy at you for no reason ,and yet, you love him all the same

He sees himself as an undeserving devotee in your presence, constantly gifted by his god, you. Vying for your continued love and praise as undeserving it is, doing all he can to make you never leave , to reassure you that your love isn't misplaced. Perhaps it stems from his upbringing that he had to work hard to earn your approval and love. Though,you would give it out to him for free

It's not like you would ever leave, you don't understand his feeling that he doesn't deserve love like anyone else. You treasure him more than the stars in the sky,and sometimes he understands that , one day he will never question your loyalty again but for now you will remind him as much as you have to

“My dove? Are you in your dressing room?” Sunday called from your bedroom. You chirped a response before he entered .

“Ah,there you are “, he leaned over you slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders, idly rubbing circles into them. He stared at the reflection of you two in the vanity bathroom briefly before pressing his head into the crook of neck and pressed featherlight kisses down to your shoulder

You recognized his patterns by now, you recognized the stiff rigid twitches of his wings. you could see the fatigue lying behind his smile, the circles under his eyes . You worried for him as any lover would and made up your mind to take care of him. Even for the night it would do him good to relax

“Sunday?” You said softly, a soothing hand running through his hair,”Hm? What is it?” His face still buried in your neck.

“When was the last time you got to truly relax, you seem so tired. I worry for you, you know this. Don't you?”You felt a faint smile against your skin,”Don't fret over me, I'm fine I promise you. It's just a little extra work-” he looked up from your neck and could see your face, he hated that expression, it seems he could never lie to you. He huffed lightly,his shoulders sagging ,”It will be done soon , please don't look so upset , it hurts my heart. What can I do?”

“It's not what you can do for me Sunday. You give too much to everyone else and have nothing left for yourself , you work yourself till you're dead tired , like now.” You looked directly at him now, he felt seen under your gaze, how could you read him so well he always wondered. “Let me take care of you, please?”

“That's not necessary-” You silenced him with a kiss. He melted into your lips and he knew you had won , he would fall into your embrace for tonight and go work again tomorrow , he assured himself You pulled back with a satisfied smile ,”Come , first you will change into something comfortable, and then we will relax in bed for the rest of the night, perhaps have a maid bring us some food?” You said fondly , getting up from the vanity chair and led him out of the small dressing room into the main suite

“Whatever you say my dear I will do . You ask for the maid and tell her I would like some filled puffs and whatever you want, and I will change . Is that alright? " He said with a lazy smile, affection lining every word .

“That would be perfect”

#sunday x reader #sunday hsr #sunday #sunday fluff #hsr sunday #hsr x reader #hsr drabbles #honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanart #honkai starail dribbles #honkai sr #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader

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dameronology · 20 hours ago

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laundry (frank castle)

summary: frank castle is good a lot of things. being domestic is not one of them.

warnings: language and this has not been proofread in the slightest lmao. enjoy!!

It wasn't often that you caught Hell's Kitchen in a beautiful moment but that first hour of light on a cold Tuesday morning caught your entire apartment perfectly. Streams of blonde light peaked through your crooked blinds, filling your bedroom with a warm glow; you could see little specs of dust in the air rising with the angle of the sun - shit, you really needed to vacuum in here - that eventually faded off into nothing. It was your day off, and you didn't want to get up early but Frank Castle's insufferable snoring had interrupted your slumber and unless you'd suddenly gained a liking for Jurassic Park style white noise in the last five seconds, the chances of getting back to sleep stood at zero.

You threw the duvet aside and pitter-pattered out the room, quietly shutting the bedroom door behind you. There was no reason for Frank to be up any time soon, either. With his night job and you being on a work trip, he'd had about seven hours sleep in the last three days.

The state of your apartment reflected that: there was a pile of unwashed combat clothes in the corner, paired with a few pairs of unpolished boots and every single mug to either of your names marinating in the sink in a washing up bowl of coffee and last night's dishes. You let out a sigh - fucking hell, Frank. Still, you weren't going to get on at him for it. You'd only lived together for a month or so by that point and up until now, he'd been perfectly tidy to the point where you hadn't even lifted a finger. The mess was clearly just a reflection of his drained mental state.

With that in mind, you set off to work. Laundry into the washing machine, plates into the dish washer that you weren't even entirely sure Frank knew existed, boots polished and put to the side. It was like clock-work really, just half an hour of cleaning, cleaning and a little bit more cleaning.

"Morning, sunshine," Frank's gravelly voice rung through the small apartment, just in time to walk into a cloud of Febreeze. "Jesus fuck, are you trying to suffocate me?"

"Sorry, Frankie," you pressed a kiss to his jaw, "was just doing some cleaning."

"I can see," Frank looked around, brown eyes flickering between you and the sparkly kitchen counters, "I'll do my bit later."

"It's cool," you shrugged, turning to flick on the kettle.

"Huh?"

"I already did it," you replied, "your clothes are in the drier now and I think I polished your boots."

"You did my laundry?"

You put down the coffee filter you were holding, turning to face Frank with a furrowed brow. "Yeah. Don't tell me you're weirdly specific about your laundry being done? Only because last week I saw you use tape to fix a hole in your-"

" - no, it's just, uh..." Frank paused, dragging a calloused palm through his cropped hair, "I'm not used to people doing shit for me. Sorry. I mean...not sorry, baby. Thank you."

You smiled. "No problem."

A few weeks passed, and the apartment stayed tidy.

Another Tuesday came and went, and as usual, Frank was dead to the world. He was finally sleeping normally now that you were home and his routine had been restored. Frank always slept in nowadays - now that he had you beside him, he was catching up on a decade's worth of sleep.

Now, Frank Castle was normally a very heavy sleeper. Save for when he was out on tour in the military, he slept like a fucking plank. Nothing could wake him up - not fire alarms, not your neighbours and their inconsiderate routines, not even when a police car came ripping by your apartment window at 4AM.

"FRANCIS FRANKLIN FUCKING CASTLE, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY FUCKING CLOTHES?!"

Yeah, that'll do it.

Before Frank even had a chance to open his eyes and comprehend what was going on, the door to your shared bedroom burst open. He could see that you were angry - seething, even. The second thing he quickly spotted was your favourite jumper. Only now, it looked like it was from the newborn section at Target.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh."

"Now you're speechless? You run your mouth your whole life but the minute you ruin my favourite jumper - my favourite VINTAGE Paramore jumper THAT THEY NO LONGER SELL - you're silent?!" you exclaimed, throwing the jumper onto the bed. "Finally, a solution!"

Frank gulped. "Uhhhhhhh."

You let out an angry huff.

"You did my laundry last week," he began. Frank had a habit of starting sentences and hoping that the rest would come to him half way through, "it made me happy so I, uh, I thought maybe I'd do the same for you. But, I guess you read instructions on clothes and I don't."

Your angry face suddenly softened. "Oh, fuck. Now I feel bad."

"I did wonder what the little symbol on the label meant," Frank muttered.

You picked up the edge of the duvet and slid into bed beside Frank, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He was obviously still a little embarrassed, albeit more relaxed now that he knew you weren't about to bury him alive. Many people had tried, but he was sure you were the only one who could do it.

"Sorry, baby," he quietly said, "I had good intentions. For once."

You smiled. "Don't worry about it."

Frank furrowed his brow at you. "How the goddamn hell did you calm down so quickly?"

"I dunno, I have a hard time being mad at you."

"Huh," Frank murmured. "No-one's said that to me before."

You elbowed him lightly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I said I had a hard time staying mad. That doesn't mean you don't drive me up the-"

Before you could finish, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you under the covers. Frank pressed a warm kiss to your lips, forehead resting against yours.

"I'm sorry about your jumper," he said. "I love you."

"I love you too," you replied, "and it's okay - you can just Paypal me the money for a new one and I'll forgive you."

#frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle imagines #frank castle fics #frank castle fluff #frank castle x you #frank castle headcanons #frank castle #punisher x reader #punisher imagine #punisher imagines #daredevil #daredevil born again

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butlervibesonly · 3 hours ago

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𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 || Austin Butler

• Summary: Y/n and Austin are expected their first baby… Hormones, changes of the body and other are not very comfortable to go through. But Austin is here to remind her that her body is miracle carrying another miracle.

• Pairing: Austin Butler x pregnant reader

• Warnings: pregnancy, self doubts about stretch marks, emotional hormones, …

You are now almost 6 months pregnant with your and Austin’s first baby. The late afternoon sun filters through the blinds, casting soft golden lines across the mirror in the bedroom that you two share as you stand in front of it. You are just changing into some more comfortable clothes.

You stand there now, just in your underwear and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, your growing belly, round and full with the life you and Austin created. As you take a firm look at your belly, you notice something that hasn’t been there before.

Fain lines stretched across your skin, tracing gentle paths over your tummy. Your fingers hover over them. You of course knew pregnancy brings changes, but seeing them on your own body simply feels different. It makes everything more real… More permanent.

You barely hear the bedroom door open, while you caress your round belly. “Hey, love,” Austin’s voice was warm as he steps inside. He stops when he sees you standing there, both hands resting on your belly, eyes filled with uncertainty. “Is everything okay?”

You hesitate, then gesture towards your stomach. “Well… I have stretch marks, Aus…” Austin takes a look at your belly, seeing the lines that were made due to your skin stretching. He steps closer, looking at the reflection in the mirror. “Darling, those stretch marks? They're a sign of your beauty and strength, carrying our baby.”

“I know… I just… I didn’t expect these to show up this soon.” you try to laugh, but it came out thinner than you meant it to. “I look different.”

Austin frowns, not at you, but at the sadness you carry in your voice. He moves even closer, wrapping his arms gently around you from behind. Your reflections meet in the mirror, his hands now cradling the curve of your belly.

“You look absolutely beautiful…” Austin murmurs, his chin resting on your shoulder as he keeps watching the reflection of your body against him. “You don’t have to say that, Aus.” you sigh, knowing he wants to encourage you.

“No, I have to! I need to,” he states softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “These little marks, darling? They’re proof. Proof that you’re growing something incredible. That you’re strong. That your body is making room for our baby.” Austin meets your gaze in the mirror. “How could that be anything but beautiful?”

You blink to the warmth of his words. You turn in his arms, resting your forehead against his chest as he holds you close, the baby bump making it little bit hard for you to hug firmly. “Marks of love,” he adds rubbing slow circles over your belly. “That’s all I see.”

You smile now, his words melting your heart in the best way possible. “There's that beautiful smile. I love seeing you smile, love. But I also want you to know that I'm serious about this, okay?” he presses his hands on the sides of your round belly, looking into your eyes.

“You're doing something incredible and you deserve to feel like the goddess that you are. So please, let me make it up to you,” he continues to rub your belly, his words reassuring you more and more. You nod in acceptance, your hands covering his as you gaze down at the belly.

“Good. Now, I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me you're beautiful.” Austin lifts your chin with his finger, making you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours. You do so and take a deep breath. “I am… beautiful…”

“That's more like it! Now say it like you mean it.”

You smile at his stubbornness but you also feel the wave of support that you need. “I am beautiful…”

“Yes, you are. Say it again now, love. Let it sink in.” he stares at your eyes, searching for the confidence. “I am beautiful.” you say again, this time meaning it. Austin smiles, his hands moving to your stomach, his touch gentle and loving.

“That's right, love. You are beautiful! You're carrying our baby, and every stretch mark, every curve is a sign of your strength and love. You are absolutely astonishing, beautiful and amazing, and I will never stop telling you that.” he kneels in front of you, his hands never leaving your belly.

He actually brings your belly closer to him, his lips gently pressing against your soft skin. You smile widely at the feeling, as he now peppers your belly with nothing but kisses only. When he stands up, he takes your hands in his.

“Thank you, love…” you say softly, more encouraged and less self conscious. Austin smiles, one of his hands brushing your hair, while the other lands on your tummy once again. “You are very welcome, my dear. I will always make sure you and the baby are alright.”

You have been with Austin for many years now, and this man never fails to make you blush with the unconditional love you both carry for each other. “I love you, you know that, right? And I'll do everything in my power to make you feel loved, beautiful, and confident, now and always.”

“I love you too, my love.” you lean in and Austin meets you halfway, pressing his lips against yours. You two kiss passionately, filled with love, care and affection. Austin gently traces his fingers over your belly, his touch the softest it ever been.

"You know, few years from now, when our little one is running around, laughing, calling you 'Mom' with that big, bright smile, I hope you remember this moment, Y/n. I hope you remember that every change, every mark, every part of this journey was worth it. Because this? This is love the purest form. Your body is doing something I could never do…. Something incredible. I love you because of your incredible braveness and strength you have in you. So when you look in the mirror again, I hope you see what I see – a wonderful and beautiful woman that is carrying our whole world inside of her."

You wrap his arms round him, knowing this is what you craved to hear. He pulls you closer, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your hair. You always felt loved by Austin, but now you feel loved even more. And also beautiful and strong.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin butler x you #austin butler fandom #austin butler x y/n #austinbutler #austin butler fic #austin butler imagines #dad austin butler #Spotify

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ikkyfics · 1 day ago

Note

Heya!! I loved your peter maximoff music fic and if you are back on your peter obsession, can I request something with him and reader going on a date and facing backlash from rude people who don't like seeing a mutant in public?? Make it as angsty or happy as you like! Thank you!!

Silver Blur

Peter Maximoff x f!reader

Summary: “I’m a failure, you know that? I have nothing. Still live in my mom’s basement. I steal stupid shit because, I don’t know, my brain doesn’t know how to work any other way. I’m weird. And, to top it all off, I’m not even really human.” He looked down at his hands, long and nimble fingers, as if they carried something dirty, something that couldn’t be fixed. “And you… you’re everything.”

Warnings: fluffy, hurt/comfort, est. relationship, no use of y/n, prejudice towards mutants, a nasty guy, a bit of 'aggression' (totally deserved), insecure!peter, human!reader

A/N: hey love! i'm glad you liked that fic and i hope you can like this one <333 we have a little bit of angst, but i couldn't make it a tragic ending. and yes, my god, i watched x-men again just to see him and he is without a doubt the highlight of the movie

Masterlist

The diner had a nostalgic feel to it, even though you were too young to be nostalgic for anything there. The neon lights reflected off the chrome counter, the jukebox played an upbeat melody in the background, and the smell of greasy fries and burgers lingered in the air. It was the kind of place that suited him—half retro, half chaotic, a space that seemed to exist outside of time.

Peter sat across from you, silver hair catching the colorful glow, a crooked smile playing on his lips. His silver jacket, an essential piece, gleamed under the fluorescent lights. He was leaning on his forearms, watching you with an expression that made it clear that, if it were up to him, he’d spend his whole life just looking at you.

“You know I’m not supposed to be here,” he murmured, but with no real intention of leaving.

You raised an eyebrow, bringing the straw of your milkshake to your lips. “Peter, you always say that.”

He grinned, and his dimples appeared instantly. “And I’m always right.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through your chest at the sight of him, all soft and melted for you. He wasn’t anything you ever expected to find in life, but somehow, he was everything you wanted.

And then came the first glance.

The one you felt on your skin before you even realized what was happening.

A woman at the table next to you pulled her son closer, as if Peter were some kind of creature ready to attack him. A couple in the booth across whispered something to each other, eyes fixed on him with a mix of disdain and distrust. The waiter, who had seemed friendly until now, hesitated for a second before setting the plates down unceremoniously, as if touching them was enough to get contaminated.

Peter said nothing.

You knew he noticed. He always did.

But instead of reacting, he just drummed his fingers against the tabletop, looking away. His jaw was tight, shoulders a little more tense.

Hate.

People had so much hate.

“Do you want to get out of here?” you asked, your blood boiling.

He finally looked at you. And God, those dark eyes were a damn downfall. There was still a trace of a smile on his face, but it was different now—one you recognized.

The smile that said “it’s fine” when it really wasn’t.

“No.” He picked up a fry, twirling it between his fingers before popping it into his mouth. “If I left every place where I wasn’t welcome, there wouldn’t be much left, huh?”

Your chest tightened. He said it like it was a joke. Like it didn’t hurt. Like he was used to it.

And maybe he was.

But you weren’t.

You let go of your straw, crossing your arms over the table. “If anyone says anything, I—”

Peter let out a quiet laugh, leaning back against the seat. “You’re gonna defend me?”

“Obviously.”

He tilted his head to the side, silver hair falling over his forehead. His eyes glimmered, and a real smile returned.

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

This time, you were the one to look away, feeling your cheeks burn.

But the discomfort around you was still there, pulsing like a second skin.

Peter played it off well.

So well you almost believed he really didn’t care. That the stares didn’t get to him, that the whispers didn’t burn under his skin. But you knew Peter Maximoff. And Peter Maximoff was many things—fast, chaotic, ridiculously charming—but he wasn’t unbreakable.

You saw it in his eyes.

You saw it in the way his smile started to fade, in the way his fingers traced distracted patterns on the table, never stopping. You saw it in the way he got quieter, like he was disappearing into himself.

And you saw the exact moment he started to think he shouldn’t be here.

Not just in this diner.

With you.

He dropped his gaze to the table, idly playing with the cold fries on his plate. “Hey…” he murmured, without that usual easy, teasing tone. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like if you were with someone else?”

Your heart stumbled.

“What?”

He forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not saying you should, it’s just that… I think about it. A lot.”

You felt a lump in your throat.

“Peter.”

He looked away.

“I mean it. Look at you.” He gestured in the air, like he was presenting you to an invisible audience. “Beautiful, smart, cool as hell—it’s ridiculous. You could be with anyone. Any normal guy.”

“Normal,” you repeated, feeling something simmer beneath your skin.

He let out a quiet laugh, but it was empty.

“I’m a failure, you know that? I have nothing. Still live in my mom’s basement. I steal stupid shit because, I don’t know, my brain doesn’t know how to work any other way. I’m weird. And, to top it all off, I’m not even really human.” He looked down at his hands, long and nimble fingers, as if they carried something dirty, something that couldn’t be fixed. “And you… you’re everything.”

You clenched your fists on the table.

No.

No, you weren’t going to accept that.

“Peter, look at me.”

He hesitated, but obeyed.

“You’re not doing this.” Your voice was firm. “You’re not pushing me away with this bullshit speech.”

He opened his mouth, but you were faster.

“You are not a mistake, Peter. You are not a burden. You are not—” your voice faltered for a second, but you held his gaze, reaching out to take his hand, feeling his long, nimble fingers hesitate before intertwining with yours. “—a monster.”

His eyes widened, like you had just hit him square in the chest. Like he had never even considered the possibility of someone saying that out loud. He didn’t blink, didn’t breathe, just stared at you, dark eyes filled with something between shock and desperation, like he was trying to understand how the hell you could see all the good in him when he saw nothing at all.

You leaned over the table, completely ignoring the murmur around you, the strangers’ presence trying to creep into the night that belonged to the two of you. Your fingers traced the pulse at his wrist, following the line of a vein that was beating too fast, as fast as his erratic heartbeat. His face was close now, so close you could count his silver lashes, see the reflection of the diner’s neon sign dancing across his dark eyes, hear the way his breath hitched when you squeezed his hand tighter.

“You’re mine,” you murmured, each word sinking into his skin like a promise. “And I’m yours.”

His throat bobbed.

“Did you hear me, Peter?”

He blinked, dazed, like he was processing it slowly, like the idea of belonging to someone—of someone wanting to belong to him—was too distant, too impossible to be real.

So you did something that left no room for doubt.

You leaned in and kissed him.

His lips were cold from the milkshake, but his mouth gave in immediately, warm and intense and tasting like something he never, never believed he deserved. His body tensed for a second, like he was about to run, but then his hand squeezed yours tighter, and he leaned in for more, like he was trying to memorize every detail of the feeling before someone could take it away from him.

But then, the voice came.

Sharp, filled with disgust.

“You mutants never know your place.”

The world froze.

You pulled away slowly, feeling Peter’s skin stiffen under your touch, feeling his fingers turn cold around yours.

The voice came again, this time even more venomous.

“People like you aren’t welcome here.”

You turned around.

The man was big, broad shoulders, disheveled hair, his eyes carrying a very specific kind of rage. A rage that didn’t come from anything concrete, nothing he could truly explain. Just pure hatred for something he didn’t understand.

Peter didn’t say anything. He just stared, an eerily serene expression on his face.

His silence only seemed to make the man angrier.

He let out a low, sarcastic laugh, leaning over the table with a dirty smirk. “Look at you. You know you’re a freak, right, kid?”

Your blood boiled.

You didn’t care about the stares, didn’t care about the whispers or the way people seemed to subtly move away from your table, like Peter was a threat, like he was something to be feared. You knew he had dealt with this for years. You knew the words rolled off him like water, that he was too fast to care, that the best response was always a joke.

But not now.

Not when some disgusting man thought he could open his mouth and spew all that hatred like he had any right to.

You felt your chest rise and fall too fast, felt your fist clench at your side, ready to say something, do something—but then you felt it.

His hand. His long fingers slid over your wrist, a steady grip, a silent squeeze that said “no.” Peter held your hand.

And then the man turned to you. And smiled. A filthy, disgusting smile, all yellowed teeth and rotten intentions.

“Bet you’ve never been with a real man. I could show you a good time, girl.”

Peter’s hand slipped away from yours.

It was immediate.

You felt it before you even realized. The air shifted, thick with electricity, like the second before lightning splits the sky.

When you looked at Peter, he still seemed calm. But it was the dangerous kind of calm.

His mouth was still relaxed, his shoulders still loose, but his eyes—God, his eyes—held no amusement now. They were fixed on the man before him, burning like embers, scanning every inch of him like he was deciding the best way to take him apart.

And then Peter smiled. A lazy, lopsided grin, a glimmer of mockery dancing behind the threat.

“Wow.” Peter whistled. “Did you rehearse that in the mirror, or did it just come out like that?”

The man’s face darkened. Peter grinned.

“Because if it just came out like that, congrats. You’re a natural asshole.”

And then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Just one second. Just a silver blur.

The man didn’t even have time to react. One moment he was standing—and the next, he was on his knees.

The entire diner went still. Glasses rattled on the tables. The air was split by the sharp sound of impact.

No one saw Peter move.

The only thing left was him, standing in front of the man now kneeling on the floor, fingers delicately gripping the collar of his worn-out jacket, like he had placed him there as easily as setting down a cup.

Peter’s eyes glowed under the diner’s red neon lights, the shadow of a smirk twisting his mouth.

“Let me tell you a secret.” His voice came low, slow. “If you open that filthy mouth again, I’ll make you swallow every word.”

The man froze.

Peter’s smirk widened.

“And trust me,” he slid a finger over the guy’s shoulder as if brushing off dust, “I’m very fast.”

The man tried to move.

Another silver blur.

And suddenly, the guy was sitting on the counter, feet dangling in the air, not even knowing how the hell he got there.

The entire diner gasped.

Peter clicked his tongue, resting an elbow on the counter, relaxed, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

“Need a map, buddy? You look lost.”

The man blinked. His hands pressed against the counter, as if trying to find balance, as if trying to understand.

Peter just smiled, and before the guy could open his mouth, he tilted his face, lowering his voice to something more intimate, almost confidential.

“Let me guess.” He rested his chin on his hand, eyes lit with a cold amusement. “You’re not feeling so brave anymore, are you?”

He snapped his fingers. Another silver blur, and the man was back on the floor.

His breath came fast, erratic.

This time, he didn’t try to speak.

Peter smiled, as if finally satisfied.

You threw a few bills onto the table, not counting, not looking, just leaving them there, as if money had any significance in the middle of that mess, as if it could pay for the man’s discomfort, for the disgusting words he had pretended didn’t affect him.

And then you turned.

He was already waiting for you. His face still slightly tilted, eyebrows raised in a mix of impatience and expectation, as if silently asking if you could finally leave.

You nodded.

And in the blink of an eye, the world disappeared.

Your stomach flipped, and your heart jumped to your throat. It was like being pulled by an invisible force, a train too fast to follow, to process—cold air cut against your skin, sounds blurred into the distance, and then, suddenly, everything stopped.

Your feet touched solid ground. The world stopped spinning.

But your body didn’t know that yet.

You blinked a few times, trying to adjust your vision.

The sky was dark, speckled with stars, the moon casting its silver glow over everything around you. The grass beneath your feet swayed gently with the wind. You were alone, no artificial lights, no whispering voices, no disgusted stares burning against his skin.

Just the two of you.

Just him.

Just Peter, now looking at you with raw concern in his eyes, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly parted, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start.

“Hey.” His fingers touched your face with impossible gentleness, pushing strands of hair away from your skin, thumbs brushing slowly over your cheekbones, as if searching for something. “You okay?”

Your breath was still uneven, the adrenaline from what had happened at the diner, from the impossible journey to this place, still rushing through your veins like a reminder of how fast he was.

But he was here. Dark eyes, watchful. Fingers still on your face. His concern hung in the air, dense, almost tangible.

You closed your eyes for a second, inhaling slowly. “Just… a little dizzy.”

Relief flickered across his face. He let his hands slide down your arms, from your shoulders to your elbows, a warm, steady touch, like he was grounding you here, with him. Then he stopped—his gaze shifted.

You felt it before realizing what it was. The wind blew, sharp against your exposed skin, and before you could react, you felt something warm and soft drape over your shoulders.

His jacket.

The silver fabric still held his body heat, still smelled like him.

Peter adjusted it around you, his fingers lingering on your collarbones for a second longer than necessary before pulling away.

The silence between you was different now. Heavy. Charged. You looked at him, and he looked away.

His eyes didn’t meet yours. His jaw was clenched, shoulders tense, fingers idly playing with the zipper of his hoodie—a nervous habit you knew all too well.

Peter was never one to keep things to himself. He filled every silence with fast words and unfiltered jokes.

But now, he was quiet.

And that said more than anything he could have said.

You took a step forward, feeling the jacket move with you, his scent wrapping around you.

He noticed the movement but didn’t move.

Your fingers touched the side of his face, guiding him to look at you.

And he did.

His eyes were dark, deep, filled with something he was trying to hide, but that overflowed anyway.

You knew that look.

It was the look he had when he saw the prejudice he had faced since childhood spill onto you. It was the look of someone blaming himself for something that wasn’t his fault.

You sighed, your fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw, moving up into his silver hair, threading through the soft strands. He closed his eyes for a second.

Rested his forehead against yours.

Sighed.

“I hate this.”

His voice was low, restrained.

You didn’t ask what.

You already knew the answer.

He hated that you had to hear that kind of thing.

Hated that your name had been spat from the mouth of a disgusting asshole.

Hated that you had been dragged into it.

He hated that the world didn’t accept who he was.

And he hated even more that it hurt you.

You held his face more firmly, forcing him to look at you again.

"I love you."

His eyes shone.

You traced your fingers along the sharp line of his jaw, the space between his cheek and that ever-present dimple, the corner of his mouth—mapping him with care, as if reaffirming something he should never doubt.

"I don’t care what they think. I don’t care what they say."

You leaned in closer, and he stayed still, like he was absorbing every word, like he needed to hear them.

"You’re mine, remember?"

Peter swallowed hard.

A muscle jumped in his throat.

His chest rose and fell in a slower rhythm, his breathing heavy.

And then, he moved. His fingers found your face with urgency, his mouth pressing against yours without hesitation.

The kiss was slow, deep. Filled with everything he didn’t know how to say. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you in, holding you like he needed to feel that you were there, real, whole.

When he pulled back, just enough to breathe, his eyes were softer.

The weight on his shoulders seemed a little lighter.

He nudged his nose against yours, a small smile dancing at the corner of his lips.

"I’m yours, huh?"

You smiled back.

And when you answered, your voice was absolute certainty.

"Yes."

Peter smiled.

That smile. The one that was just yours. The one that made his dimples appear, that made his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners, that left him looking hopelessly in love. The one you would never get tired of seeing.

He kissed your forehead, slow, his lips lingering a little longer than necessary before pulling away.

And then he laced his fingers through yours, holding your hand firmly, like he knew that even without words, that touch said everything he wanted to say.

And somehow, you knew exactly what it was.

Peter didn’t like the world.

But he liked you.

He liked you a lot.

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andy-15-07 · 2 days ago

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hi! I would love to see a Paul Mescal fic where the reader and him go shopping and she is trying on a bunch of clothes!

The Fitting Room

PAIRING:Paul Mescal x reader

WORD COUNT: 669 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Paul Mescal Masterlist

The soft hum of the fluorescent lights in the changing room washed over you as you zipped up the vibrant sundress. It was a whirlwind of a pattern, a clash of colours that you usually wouldn't gravitate towards, but something about the way it swished around your legs as you twirled had caught your eye.

A muffled chuckle from outside the curtain made you smile. "You look like a human disco ball," Paul's voice teased, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Hey!" you protested playfully, peeking out from the curtain. "It's called 'bold fashion choices'."

Paul raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin playing on his lips. "Alright, alright. But seriously, you look amazing."

You stepped out fully, twirling once more to show off the dress. It was a little short, a little tight, but it made you feel… alive. Confident. Like you could take on the world.

"I love it," you declared, beaming at your reflection.

"Good, because I think I do too," Paul said, his eyes lingering on your figure. "Though, maybe we should tone down the disco ball effect a bit."

You laughed, reaching for a pair of jeans and a simple white t-shirt from the overflowing pile on the bench. "Fine, fine. But I'm keeping this one."

The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of trying on clothes, laughing, and teasing. Paul would disappear into the men's section every now and then, emerging with ridiculous hats or brightly coloured socks, much to your amusement. You, on the other hand, seemed to have developed a sudden obsession with anything remotely sparkly or floral.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the bustling shopping district, you emerged from the fitting room, this time in a pair of wide-leg jeans and a flowy, off-the-shoulder top. It was simple, elegant, and somehow, perfectly you.

"Perfect," Paul breathed, his eyes widening. "You look… incredible."

A blush crept up your neck as you met his gaze. "You think so?"

"I know so," he insisted, stepping closer. "You always look incredible, but… this. This is special."

His hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, a familiar flutter in your chest.

"Ready to go?" he asked softly, his gaze unwavering.

You nodded, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. As you walked hand-in-hand through the crowded streets, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment. It was the little things, the shared laughter, the stolen glances, the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world.

Back at his apartment, you collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted but exhilarated from the day's adventures. Paul joined you, draping an arm around your shoulders.

"Best shopping trip ever," you declared, snuggling closer to him.

"Agreed," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Though, I think I might need a fashion intervention after seeing some of those choices."

You giggled, turning to face him. "Hey, you're the one who encouraged me to go bold."

"Guilty as charged," he admitted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But seriously, you looked amazing in everything."

"Even the disco ball dress?" you teased, a playful smirk gracing your lips.

"Especially the disco ball dress," he countered, his eyes twinkling. "You know, I've always wanted a girlfriend who could outshine a disco ball."

You laughed, burying your face in his chest. "Oh, Paul."

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I love you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

As you lay there, nestled in his embrace, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. It was in these quiet moments, surrounded by the warmth of his love, that you felt truly alive. And you knew, with a certainty that settled deep within your soul, that this was just the beginning of their adventure.

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scaryfangirl2001 · 2 days ago

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The morning sun casts a warm glow on the playground as the bell rings, signaling the start of recess. Annabon approaches the jungle gym, her favorite spot for observing her classmates' chaotic yet fascinating social dynamics. She climbs with calculated grace, her long brown hair swaying with each movement, easily reaching the highest platform.

From this vantage point, she can see them all: the rowdy twins, Althea and Attica, chasing each other; Whitney, the wild child, attempting to climb a tree; and Miles, lost in his own world, his earbuds blasting music only he can hear.

Then, a flash of movement catches her eye. It's Nora Elizabeth, the speedster troublemaker, her dark hair flying behind her as she dashes across the playground. Her eyes, a piercing blue, are fixed on Annabon with an intensity that sends a shiver down the young girl's spine. Nora Elizabeth's reputation as a troublemaker precedes her, and today, Annabon is about to experience it firsthand.

"Hey, House!" Nora Elizabeth shouts, her voice carrying across the playground. "Think you're so smart, huh? Always acting all grown-up!"

Annabon, startled, turns to face her. "I... I don't..." she stammers, her usual composure faltering.

Without warning, Nora Elizabeth sprints towards the jungle gym, her steps leaving a trail of blurred motion. In a swift and powerful motion, she slaps Annabon's cheek, the impact echoing across the playground. The force is enough to send Annabon tumbling from her perch, her small body falling through the air as if in slow motion.

As she falls, Annabon's thoughts are a whirlwind. She sees her dads' concerned faces, her ballet performances, and the puzzles she loves to solve. But the ground rushes up to meet her, cutting short her reflections. She lands with a painful thud, the impact knocking the wind out of her lungs.

"Ouch!" Annabon cries, her voice a mix of surprise and pain. She rubs her stinging cheek, feeling the warmth of tears welling up in her eyes. "Why'd you do that, Nora Elizabeth?" she asks, her voice trembling.

Nora Elizabeth stands over her, hands on her hips, her chest heaving from the exertion. "Because I can," she replies, her breath coming in frosty clouds, a testament to her love for the cold. "And because you think you're so special, little miss perfect. Well, you're not."

Annabon's eyes narrow, and for a moment, her empathy takes a back seat to a surge of anger. She pushes herself up, her small hands balling into fists. "You're a mean girl, Nora Elizabeth! Just because you're fast doesn't mean you can hurt people!"

The other children gather around, forming a circle, their faces a mix of curiosity and concern. Antonio, Annabon's best friend, steps forward, his policeman father's protective nature shining through.

"Hey, Nora Elizabeth, that wasn't cool! Apologize right now!"

Nora Elizabeth smirks, unapologetic. "Or what? You'll tell your dad on me? Go ahead, I'm not scared."

Attica, one of the rowdy twins, pipes up on the bully's side. "Yeah, crybaby Annabon! You're always so bossy, telling us what to do. This is what you get!"

Annabon's eyes dart around, taking in the faces of her classmates. She sees Donna, the tough tomboy, clenching her fists, ready to defend her. Simon, the lawyer's son, looks on with a calculating gaze, as if analyzing the situation. Even Trees watches with fascination and sympathy. Annabon's anger dissipates, replaced by a surge of empathy and leadership.

She stands tall, brushing the dirt from her clothes. "You don't have to like me, Nora Elizabeth, but hitting isn't going to solve all your problems. I won't tell anyone what you did this time, but you should think about how your actions affect people."

Nora Elizabeth's smirk falters, and for a fleeting moment, Annabon sees a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. Then, with a defiant huff, Nora Elizabeth turns and dashes away, leaving a trail of laughter and icy air in her wake.

Annabon, her cheek still stinging, looks around at her classmates, her gaze landing on Antonio's supportive smile. She offers a small, brave smile in return, her resilience shining through the tears.

#16 What would your character do if someone slapped them?

I know you all have amazing creative juices in you and some amazing characters. This prompt is just for you to have fun and to help you explore your Character in a different setting. I would LOVE to hear what your Characters would do.

#creative writing #aspiring writer #original character #writer #female protagonist #writer stuff #writing process #annabon house #nora elizabeth allen #slap #my ocs my beloved

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ghostlysoaps · 6 months ago

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Stargazing

The safe house is surprisingly well-stocked and Soap finds himself grinning at the box of tea hiding behind tins, MRE’s and canned provisions. Of the bagged variety, though, beggars can’t be choosers. He whips up a mug and walks around the couch Gaz is currently sprawled out on as if he owns the damn thing, ignoring the raised eyebrows and dawning smirk directed at him, as he follows the trail of muddy footprints to the door with a one-fingered salute tossed casually over his shoulder.

It’s a warm evening, the breeze a caress against his bare arms, where insects and birds chirp in tandem. Trees tower above him. Roots coiled every which way, tugging at his toes in an attempt to trip him. His boots sink into the soft earth with every step as he navigates the impenetrable darkness with only the barest wisps of moonlight filtering in through the leafed crowns. Not a bad place to be in all honesty. As if they’re holed up together for a hunting trip and not fresh out of razing a guerilla encampment to the ground.

Eventually, the awning of trees gives way to an open field and at its edge stands a lone figure.

He blends into his surroundings, giving credit to that of his callsign, leaning against a thick, bark-ladened trunk with his arms crossed over his chest and his face tilted towards the sky. At ease. Serene.

Well… if Soap hadn’t known where most of his knives are hidden and how his hand is dangerously close to wrapping around the hilt of one.

“Dinnae ye dare, Lieutenant, or you’ll end up short of a Sergeant an’ a cuppa both.”

Ghost shifts surreptitiously, away from the wickedness of steel, in a motion noticeable only to a trained eye.

“Be a waste of tea I s’pose,” he replies, glancing at Soap from the corner of his eye.

Johnny presses his lips together against a smile. He knows the bastard is smirking at him beneath black cloth and it would have pissed him off if he didn’t like the way it made his eyes glow with mirth alongside it.

A sliver of skin is all he can see, yet Simon has him hooked through the ribs – snared as helpless prey – and hanging onto every moment he deigns to show more. Waiting and watching and wanting. It’s unprofessional, could tank his career, the ease with which he’d break every rule set before him for a glimpse of the man beneath the mask, and more than that… it’s pathetic. Begging for scraps and wagging his tail whenever Ghost offers him a hint of attention, desperate and yearning for stolen minutes of time.

Banter over the comms aside, these are the moments he cherishes most, when Ghost’s guard is down, when it’s as if they’re the last two men on earth, and Johnny can delude himself into thinking there’s a gentle edge to those brown eyes, a fragment of love returned.

He looks away, up to the same sky Ghost had been searching, counting the constellations he remembers seeing as a child eager to learn from his seanmhair. Black as ink with an unfathomable amount of stars brushed upon it. Johnny’s fingers twitch with the urge to sketch it, though he knows neither the graphite pencils nor ballpoint pen he has with him could hope to capture its beauty. The scattered silver clusters like diamonds, the halfmoon, the wisps of bluish-purple and the chugging satellites – no more than specks on an infinite canvas.

Engrossed in his own wonder, the prickle he typically feels when observed is nowhere to be found when dark eyes settle upon him.

“You plan on drinking that?”

Johnny startles, can’t with any accuracy tell how long he’d spent cataloging the night’s sky as if they were the freckles Simon sports after days spent in the sun, when the eyeblack gets scrubbed off and their resident ghost sheds one skin for another, plainer variety that hints at approachable.

“Oh, nae, made it fer ye.”

“Mm. You goin’ sweet on me Johnny?” Simon asks, taking the lukewarm beverage off him with as much care as he shows his service weapon, lifting the lip of his balaclava to rest slightly below the bridge of his nose.

Yes, he thinks, observing the way Simon’s nose scrunches slightly when he brings the lip of the mug up to sniff at, finding the contents lacking and then expressing his distaste in a manner John is far-enough-gone to describe as adorable.

“Maybe,” is what he eventually lands on. Less jovial than he’d planned. Too muted to sound like a joke. A product of the environment and a long festering wound begging to be cleaned in order to heal. “You plan on writing me up for it?”

Simon shifts his weight, their arms brushing briefly, seconds ticking by while he chews on his words and cheek alike.

“No. Be a right hypocrite if I did.”

Voice low and matching the gravity of Johnny’s impromptu, not-quite confession.

“You–”

A hand on his jaw breaks the word in two and stifles whatever he’d planned to say next, and though his face is tilted up it is also dragged away from Simon’s. He can tell from his peripheral that he’s being watched, regarded closely as only a lover – with rumpled sheets tucked up over their waists – could, but there’s not enough leeway to decipher his exact sentiment or expression. Only that it’s there. Something fathomless brewing beneath the surface and projected outwards. A burgeoning Simon isn’t ready for him to see and Johnny, entrenched in it so deep it’s threatening to seep into his lungs, is too cowardly to voice.

“Not now… not yet. Let me drink in the reflection of stars in your eyes,” he says, gravel-smooth, as if the words are less tangible than the ardor behind them. “They’ve never been more beautiful.”

“Alright,” Johnny murmurs, gaze pausing their strain towards Simon to follow his guidance, cheeks flaming.

He defers to Simon the way he does Ghost – not without a slight hint of pushback before he falls in line. Johnny worms his fingers between his skin and Simon’s, takes the digits cradling him gently in his own, and refuses to let go when their entwined hands are led to rest at their sides. His thumb strokes gentle circles over the thick gloves, hoping it can be felt down to the bone, trying in every non-verbal way to project one simple notion; that he’s glad to have this.

#it is my personal opinion that simon riley is a sap and a romantic #and when simon lets ghost's leash slip all bets are off #especially if he's alone with the object of his affection #this was inspired by tags i wrote for another post a while back #on an artwork by amikoroyaiart #→#stargazing as in you're watching the stars #and i'm looking at them reflected in your eyes #the night’s sky is vast but my universe is contained in a single vessel #←#because they kinda slap #i shall stop rambling in the tags now #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #call of duty #ghostly writes stuff

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thisshadowwrites · 1 month ago

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me: oh, i remember like one episode from season 5 that i had a huge problem with when i listened to it for the first time, the one with doctor daniel. but that's waaaays away, ill be fine!! what's this next one? hm, a spider statement about an addict trying to stay clean while everyone around them tells them that they should just give up and give in? pffff, easyyy, it was a breeze listening to that one back then!!

episode 172:

me, an ex-addict that's been clean since shortly after finishing tma the first time: ..................oh

#so anyway i think i might actually be Web-aligned after all #thought it was Stranger with a hint of Eye/Spiral but actually?#upon reflection i really do NOT react well to being controlled by forces outside of myself #plus my history with addiction?#........ hiya web sorry it took so long #guess I'm one of your spiderlings after all #not even to mention that i had a WHOLE period in childhood where i flipped from loving spiders to absolutely haaating them because #well #i looked one in the Eyes #jonny sims please stop writing my life this cliché #the magnus archives #tma #Web #(yes i did cry during this statement)#rip Francis #they/them-ing along to the music #tma s5 spoilers #tma s5

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moe-broey · 3 months ago

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One day. I will be able to find the words. To explain what the difference is between Lif and Mani. There is a Core Difference between them. Of what they Are. Today apparently is NOT that day though.

#mani tag #IT ALMOST WAS. IT ALMOST WAS. I FEEL SO CLOSE TO SOMETHING. but i'm just not CAPTURING IT #it's something about how lif is still a person. how lif is still 'alive' so to speak.#no matter how much he's lost along the way and no matter how he's irrevocably changed. he's still A Person.#mani is not a person. mani was never meant to be a person.#when you grieve lif you are grieving a person. someone who's been beaten and broken #someone who's unrecognizable and yet. no. no. that's still so painfully alfonse in there.#if you were to grieve mani. you are grieving a concept. you are grieving a meticulously curated reflection.#meanwhile MOE IS RIGHT FUCKING THERE!!!!!! IT'S ALIVE!!!!!!#now i don't believe in what i'm about to say. HOWEVER.#your sin stacked against mine. what we were tainted by and how we endured.#you just sucked ass. okay. worst anyone has ever done it.#but if all sin is the same in the eyes of god then why do YOU still get to be a person and i've had my person privileges revoked.#moe is the one who's personhood was revoked and mani is the one who was never meant to be a person in the first place.#but the moe that looked like mani. was the one who was assigned personhood. mani is the reflection of this.#mani is the representation dare i say MANIFESTATION. of all that moe did to earn and maintain that personhood.#ooohkay taken enough damange now. final words #alfonse does not grieve mani. alfonse does however have his own slew of Problems and mani is about to become one of them.#on purpose.#moe lore

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atgvnpoint · 1 day ago

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Maybe it wasn't the right time to talk about these things. But resting on Ludovic's chest always made him feel comfortable and secure. He caressed his husband's side with one hand as he told Ludovic things he never spoke about before. Benji didn't want to seem weak, nor did he want anyone to feel bad for him. Those were just memories, but he was certain that those were the reasons behind his sleeping problems. All he wanted was for Ludovic to know that nothing if this was his fault. If it wasn't for his husband, Benji would sleep even worse. Faintly, Benji shrugged while thinking about those men in his room. ❝I am certain that the guy who talked to me, the first one, was real. I'm not too sure about the others. I mean, the first one was there the night after I sleepwalked. So it makes sense.❞ But thinking about it now, it also made sense that his child's brain made up the rest. Slowly, Benji looked up to catch a glimpse of those hazel eyes he loved so much. A faint smile stretched on his lips which quickly became a pout. ❝That's not true. No one is stronger than you, Babe. You've been through much worse.❞ Benji lost his mother when he was too young to even remember, but Ludovic remembered it all and then dealt with an abusive father. In Benji's mind, this was way worse, because you grow up in a loving, intact family before it all falls apart.

But now that he was with Ludovic, Benji also came to realize that his choice of men before hadn't been the best. Almost a little nervous, he fumbled with his husband's fingers. ❝You don't have to be sorry, Babe. I didn't reflect on it for a long time either. But since I'm with you, I feel really sick in the stomach thinking about those older men. I don't find them attractive, nor do I miss their attention. So I came to the conclusion now that I needed them in my life because I had a daddy issue.❞ Once again, Benji looked up so he could see his husband's facial expression. ❝Don't blame yourself, Babe. How could you know when it took me a long time to figure all of this out myself? I just want you to know that they don't interest me anymore. I don't need a father figure anymore because you are my family now. Your sister is like my own sister and I've always wanted siblings❞ Benji turned just a bit and lifted his head. He stretched up just enough that he could steal a kiss from his husband's lips. ❝I love you. I love you more than anyone else on this earth. And no one attracts me more than you.❞

"Babe, you can touch me all you want in a bit. Let's not get physical in front of my bestie and ludo." he said leaning in to kiss Bryce's lips once, twice. "Let's leave them alone, there's a bed waiting just for us." he smiles, his voice soft and sensual. AJ's fingers gently pulled his boyfriend's shirt. Blue eyes fell down to his groin where he noticed the bulge poking against the fabric, making AJ smirk. "Someone needs attention." he cooed. They got up from the couch, his hand in Bryce's, leaving Benji and Ludovic alone while they made their way to his bedroom, once the door closed behind him, AJ immediately collided his lips with his boyfriend.

Ludovic wished the other pair a goodnight, he wanted to concentrate on Benny as much as possible. He was more than ready to spend the rest of the night looking over Benny's slumber. A kiss was stolen not that Ludo minded, he loved it when his man stole many kisses as possible. A smile spread across his lips at his chest being compared to a pillow. That he also noticed, the subtle soft touches there or when they slept in every morning, Benny's head would be right there on his chest. As they laid together his chest was again used as a pillow. Hearing to benny's story, fingers slowly playing with the curls while he listened. He knew it was hard to share his childhood and family history. Especially those awful memories nobody wants to share. " As a child i know things like that can be scary. I'm sorry you went through that, i read about not walking sleepwalkers during their episodes. I mean were those guys real, or a figment of your imagination." Richard's way of dealing with his son was atrocious and every time that old fucker pops into his mind, Ludo doesn't regret anything. Not even when the old man tried to bribe him at the start. Pathetic. Brows pulled furrowed, looking down at Benny. "But you know you're not weak, not even in the slightest. Richard might've done and said whatever it is to break you down, your strong babe. Stronger than me actually." Ludovic said, fingers still curling around his fingers, and as he heard more of Benny's story growing up with a mad man as a father it pissed him off so much as he laid there with Benny. Ludovic understood the reasoning behind all those old men he messed around with. And deep down Ludo felt like a fool for thinking that Benny was fucking these men. When the story came to an end, Ludo had to apologize. "babe, i'm sorry. i didn't think it was that deep, you and these men. Sorry i thought the worst things at the beginning."

He felt like such an idiot. "It's not too much, not at all. I just .... never thought that your father had something to do with you dating these men, looking for a paternal figure in them in the worst way possible. I knew i had to trust my gut when i met your father for the first time. Maybe everyone else found him intimidating but as for me, i was more than irritated with the guy. There was this hate i couldn't figure out, then you tell me this. Now it all makes sense."

#inscnityclub #[×] benjamin

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