#question is can I make myself write a fic abt this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urtheloml · 8 months

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wonder how we got this far (i don't really need to wonder at all)

pairing: bakugou x reader w/c: 9k synopsis: you're excited about the prom, bakugou is not— disagreement ensues a/n: i'm back... first post of 2023 n the year is almost over... embarrassing 🧍🏼‍♂️this is the third n final installation to my little white lie mini-series!! read part 1 here n part 2 here!! this can be read as a standalone too :3 uhm... i started this fic in like... april (??) n completely forgot abt it until last week so i have no idea what the original plot was going 2 be but i think it turned out okay (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) also i know this fic is SOOOO overdramatic but i have watched every single movie that had a major prom scene (hsm3, the duff, mean girls, etc) n growing up, i looked forward it to SO bad that i literally used it as motivation to do well in exams. but then COVID happened so no prom experience for me so this is me basically projecting onto my writing!! okay mwah hope u like it xx o((>ω< ))o!!

Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. The opening scene of the Bee Movie plays like a mantra in your head as you're searching for something in your closet. Your ears pick up the occasional grunt or cheer from your boyfriend, who's currently laying in your bed with his DS in hand, and your eyes roll affectionately.

You can't find what you're looking for so you abandon the mess you've made in your drawer and turn to Bakugou instead. "'Katsu, have you seen my can of body glitter? It's in a little purple spray bottle."

Bakugo barely glances your way, "No, why would I have seen that. Why d'ya need it anyway?"

Your body slumps against his comfortably as you cosy up next to him on your bed and even if it's been a while, your heart still skips when he immediately tangles his legs with yours. "I need it to make myself glittery for the prom, duh. You can use it too if you want before we leave."

"Huh?"

"The prom. The dance thing we're going to, in like three days?"

Bakugou's eyebrows scrunch up confusedly as he puts his DS down and immediately a bad premonition settles in your gut. "What are you talking about? I never said I was going to that shit."

Ah. There it is. You're glad he put his game down 'cause if he wasn't looking at you while you're about to have this conversation then his console might have landed outside your window right about now. You're looking at him incredulously when you say, "What do you mean you're not going? You're my boyfriend so you have to go. It's like an unspoken rule... you can't not go to prom. Who's gonna take me then? You want me to go alone, like some loser?"

The barrage of questions makes him smile amusedly at you, but for once the sight of it induces anything but affection in you. There's no way he's taking you seriously right now. Bakugou scoffs and turns back to his game, "Huff all you want, princess, but I'm not going to the prom."

Before he can start a new game, your body lands on top of him unceremoniously so you have his undivided attention. "'Tsuki! This is our one and only prom as high schoolers. Doesn't that mean anything to you? I want to go and dance with my girls and I want to dance with you. Please?"

His jaw ticks, and he looks away from you because he knows if he stares too long then he'll cave. He refuses to go and you're not about to sway him. He has his own reasons for not wanting to go and he'll stand by them if it's the last thing he'll do.

"I told you I ain't fuckin' going, alright? You can go with your friends and you can have fun and dance with them but I'm not going. Stop pushing me on this."

His voice comes out hard and unwavering, leaving no room for argument. Also, you can't believe he just called you pushy. Bakugou, who forced a confession out of you just because he wanted you to say it first. He underestimates your persistence though, because next thing he knows, you're leaning down like you're about to kiss him and his eyes are already half-lidded but instead you bite down harshly on his nose.

Bakugou yelps but that doesn't deter you. "Can you at least tell me why you don't want to go? Because you don't want to go to a lot of things with me but you always end up going anyway. Like the nail salon, or Bath and Body Works. Why's it different this time?"

His eyes narrow and he shifts beneath you, probably trying to escape your shit fuck ton of questions but you're caging him in. He stays quiet for a whole three minutes when he finally says, "I just don't want to go, fuck, can't you just let it go and compromise for fucking once?"

What. "What?"

“I’m just saying,” Bakugou sneers, propping his elbow up below his head, “you shouldn’t be forcing me to go. You said it yourself, ya know, it feels like I’m always doing what you want.”

You falter. "That's bullshit, Katsuki. You're being really mean right now."

It seems that you used the wrong choice of words because his face turns gloomy, and you can tell he’s biting the inside of cheek as hard as he can. He places his forearm over his eyes so he can physically block out your reaction when he practically spits, “Why don’t you go date golden boy Kirishima if you think I’m so mean, huh?”

Woah. That was a low fucking blow and he knows it. He regrets bringing up his best friend’s name the moment the words leave his mouth because the way you inhale sharply and get off of him fearing for his life. The hairs on his arms rise when you start speaking to him scoldingly, and he won't even deny that he deserves it.

“I cannot believe you’re still using that against me, ‘Suki, that was more than a year ago! And don’t give me shit about not knowing how to compromise because I always eat the food you make. Even when you make it spicy on purpose even though you know I can’t handle it. And you know what? I don’t particularly like going to the gym with you on the weekends, but I still always go! And maybe sometimes I wish we could have more than just study dates but I stay and read with you anyway. And I always, always, forgive you when you do stupid shit like forgetting our anniversary or- or when you make me cry."

Almost as if your body takes cue from your words, you can feel a familiar stinging sensation creep up behind your eyelids. It starts a chain reaction because somehow Bakugou barrels on. Even though his face blanches when he sees the water on your lash line, he can’t seem to stop his mouth from moving.

"Well, fuck, sorry I'm such a shitshow to handle, princess. You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. But if you’re so tired of me already, then why don't you just break up with me, huh?"

No longer was there a trace of affection or playfulness in the way he calls you ‘princess’. The word drips with condescension and malice and your heart cracks a bit at the way he speaks about himself. Bakugou's sitting on the bed now, looking up at you as you stand before him.

Yet, your gaze holds nothing but warmth and frustrated tears when you look at him. Because, much to your dismay, you also always know when there’s something up with Bakugou . He leans away for a moment when your hands come up to touch his head, but decides to let himself fall into your touch in the end.

Bakugou buries his face against your stomach, gripping onto the back of your shirt with crumpled fists. Gently, your hand cards through his messy hair, “Baby, I never said that. I never said you were hard to deal with. You’re a very easy person to deal with, and an even easier person to love. And I have never, ever, thought about leaving you. Okay? I’m sorry for making you think that."

He nods into you, the movement tickles your abdomen and he does it again and again until you start giggling and pushing his head away. Bakugou rests his chin against your navel, looking up at you with slightly glassy eyes. He knows he doesn’t deserve the kindness you’re laying onto him, doesn't deserve you in general, but he still reaches up to swipe a thumb under your eye.

“No, I was out of line. I shouldn't have said all that. I’m sorry, I was bein’ rude as shit.”

The truth is, Bakugou isn't really that easy to deal with. You can handle him just fine because you've had years of practice. To an untrained eye, maybe it'll look bad for him when he scoffs a fuck off everytime you ask to hold his hand. But you know he never means it because he always takes your hand anyway, intertwining his fingers with yours. And then he'll squeeze your hand three times; i love you, i love you, i love you.

So no, he isn't easy to deal with. His body language and words don't always correspond to what he's trying to convey but it's still plainly obvious that he quite stupidly adores you anyway. He'll yell at you for forgetting your wallet, he'll call you an idiot the whole day and then he'll pay for your lunch and walk you home the same day. If you get cold for forgetting a cardigan, he'll tease and taunt you for a whole five minutes maximum before giving you his own that he just somehow keeps forgetting to take out of his bag, as he says. He'll make a face like he just ate a lemon when he tries and fails to not make fun of you if you don’t score so well on a test, and then he’ll tutor you for hours on end until you can get it right.

It gets quite predictable.

He pulls you down then, letting your bodyweight sink onto his lap and presses a kiss against your lips in apology and you hate that it works. Hate that he can erase every mistake with a press of his lips to yours, because he never kisses you without meaning it. And you know he means to say sorry with the way his tongue slips into your mouth.

Unfortunately, the argument does not end.

He pulls away, breathing heavier than before. The bubble of calmness and comfort around you bursts explosively however when he mutters, “‘M still not going to the prom, though.”

It's not like you didn't see this coming. You knew that he didn't really care about prom, no matter how badly you wanted him to. You just thought that maybe he'd take you anyway. The thought of going without him makes your chest clench because you could have the time of your life with your girls but it won't feel the same without him next to you.

Maybe he's right. Maybe you do make him do things he doesn't really want to. But then again, you do the same for him. You're left confused and defeated when it's time for him to leave and he's still adamant on not going. On one hand, you don't want to force him to go. But on another, you really do wish he'd change his mind.

You're silent as you show him out, and he notices but he stays quiet too and in his head, he beats himself for being a coward. He hates himself for not being able to talk to you properly. He knows very well that if he just told you what's up with him then you'd understand, and you could still probably convince to go to the dance. But he doesn't speak up.

Right before he leaves, he leans down to kiss you goodnight but you turn away at the last moment so his lips meet your cheek instead. Slowly, you press a palm against his heart, pushing him away and pretending you can’t hear how it stutters at your denial.

"Hey, before you go, I'm sorry if I'm being pushy again but you-,” your voice trails off, and you sigh defeatedly, “you can't keep making me cry and just expect to kiss it better all the time, okay? And I know you don't mean to do it, but it still hurts, Bakugou. I'm tired of getting hurt all the time and I'm not forcing you to go, but I hope you know that it really fucking sucks that my own boyfriend won't go to the dance with me, and it sucks even more that he won't even tell me why."

Bakugou? What happened to Katsu or ‘Suki, he mourns internally. He keeps a blank face but it feels like the blood within his veins just got replaced with pure fucking ice as he lets your words sink in. He refuses to let his facade break but it feels like someone is grabbing him by the throat and he can’t seem to breathe right.

"If you keep making me feel like this, one day I'm not just gonna let you kiss it all better. 'Cause sooner or later, you're gonna run out of chances."

Bakugou stays unanswering, and you look at him pleadingly for him to just talk to you but he doesn't. It's not until you go to close your door that he finally speaks, voice soft but accusing, "You just said you've never thought of leaving me, and now just 'cause I'm not taking you to some stupid dance, you're taking it all back?"

If Bakugou had superpowers, pissing you off would definitely be one of them. You resist the urge to stomp your foot childishly, because you know that won't help to get your point across. Your teeth bite down on nothing as harshly as possible because you don't want to start arguing again, it won't solve anything. He knows that too, and even though your hands stay right by your side, he feels like he was just punched in the jaw when you meet his eyes and he finds that somehow, he managed to make you cry twice in one night.

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe this isn't just some stupid dance to me? I get it, okay, that it's not your scene or whatever, and it doesn't matter to you but it really matters to me," you tell him as placatingly as possible, and his eyes are as clouded as his judgement, "I've waited a long time for this, and I never thought I'd even be lucky enough to have someone who means so much to me to go with. And if you can't even see how important it is to me that I want you with me at this stupid dance, then you're the worst. The worst."

With that, you finally shut the door in his face. His muffled protests behind the slab of wood go ignored in favour of stomping back to your room. Bakugou's insufferable! He's stupid and stubborn and temperamental. He's a hothead that jumps headfirst into anything he does with everything he's got.

He's the worst. (he's the furthest thing from it)

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

Neither you nor Bakugou give in to the temptation of calling one another. When you see him in class, you don't look at him and you go straight home. The both of you being too stubborn to admit defeat by reaching out first. It hurts to admit though, that for once you wish he'd just call you. A mere three days of radio silence on both your ends doesn't do wonders for your relationship, it chips away at both of you until the hurt simmmers to a seemingly numb feeling in your hearts.

As you think of ways to spite him, your mind comes up with the idea of going with someone else. But you don't entertain that thought for longer than a second, because that would be cheating and you'd never stoop that low. He probably wouldn't even know if you did anyway.

The night before the prom, you sit on your bed forlornly, twirling the little charm bracelet that slings around your wrist. It's a cute thing that Bakugou gifted you a few months ago. It was a simple purple band with two star charms on its ends and a little saturn charm in the middle. He has a matching one in blue.

"It's beautiful, 'suki. Why saturn?" You had asked.

"Uh... I don't- I read somewhere that it kinda symbolises growth and commitments. And you know, that fits us." Katsuki answered, withholding the fact that he spent three hours reading multiple astrology sites about it even though he quite frankly thinks it's bullshit but didn't want to get the meaning wrong anyway.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause I wanna fucking commit to you and I'm gonna be everything you’ll ever need.”

The bracelet jingles lightly as you fidget with it. Your phone lays on your bed with no signs of him calling and a deep crushing sigh escapes you as you prepare yourself for another night of tossing and turning. The memory of what the bracelet meant lulls you to sleep and you're left wondering if he's still wearing it too, which makes you wonder even more if he's missing you as much as you're missing him or if he's missing you at all. It's hardly noticeable but you think your cheeks feel damp as your eyes fall close.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

In his own room, Bakugou lets the dumbbell he's curling fall to the floor. He barely hears the resounding thud it makes or his mom yelling at him for dropping the weight like that. He flops onto his bed, arms spread and neck spotted with sweat. His mind swims with thoughts of you and he wishes it wasn't so hard for him to just fucking open up to you. His insides twist just thinking about the way he left things with you, it makes him feel stupid and he hates it.

It's not like he doesn't want to take you to the prom. If anything, he'd love to do that. He wants to show you off so bad. Have you all pretty, draped over his arm and looking gorgeous in whatever dress you wanted to wear. God does he want to, he wants everyone to see you with him and he'd bask in his smugness that no one else gets to have you like this but him. He'd relish in the absolute envy on anyone else's face as that saw you with him. Because everyone knows, including himself, that you're too good for him. And now he's gone and fucked it all up.

For all the confidence he exudes, Bakugou Katsuki is actually not someone who's void of insecurities. If anything, his confidence is just a front to his crackling interior. But not always, because sometimes he is quite the hot shit. Anyway.

Contrary to your belief, he doesn't want to go to the prom for your sake. He's heard the things people have said about you- or rather, he's heard what has been said about you in regards to your relationship with him. Just thinking about it makes him feel nauseous all over again. He wasn't supposed to hear it, he thinks.

He'd been walking past the girl's toilet whilst looking for you. It wasn't on him that girls talk so fuckin' loudly. Like c'mon, in his defence, if you're going to talk shit about someone, at least do it quietly so that the person aforementioned won't hear his own name like a siren beckoning him to eavesdrop. So really, it's not his fault for pressing his back against the wall to hear the rest. He can't put a name to the two voices (why would he be able to) but from what they're saying, they know him apparently.

..."... I bet he's forcing her. To date him, I mean."

"I don't know... they seem pretty lovey-dovey and all gross to me. If you ask me, she should leave now and find someone better."

"That's called conditioning. Or like, stockholm syndrome. I mean, let's be serious, who wants to willingly date Bakugou of all people. He's like if the word aggression was personified. He's mental, I swear."

They laugh, gaudy.

"I bet he's gonna show up to the dance with the poor girl, 'cause he's way too fucking clingy. Have you noticed that he's practically by her side almost 24/7. Hope they don't turn up together, like give that girl a break."

So. He wasn't supposed to hear that. He wasn't supposed to fucking hear that, and for a good fucking reason. At that moment, it felt like his heart was stuck in his throat while simultaneously, his stomach dropped to his ass. He doesn't cry. He's not that bothered by it. But it makes his head spin that people actually think of him like that.

By then, he wasn't thinking straight, because if he was, then he'd know not to make assumptions about how everyone felt about him based on two girls' conversation. Alas, he's not thinking straight, so, fuck it.

He doesn't know if you remember but he barely said anything when he walked you home.

It hurt him, but everything they said about him wasn't anything he hadn't heard before. It was the way they talked about you that got to him. How you were unhappy or being forced, they said. It's the way he's tried his hardest to pour his heart and soul into you and him and it's still seemingly not enough for people around him to think that you're both undeniably gone for each other.

It makes him upset, because he thinks he's been doing a pretty good job at showing you just how much you mean to him, but apparently fuckin' not. He's obviously not doing something right. Which makes him feel frustrated because he can't figure it out. He tells you he loves you plenty. Okay, maybe not plenty but he does say it. He says it and he knows you know that he’s trying to show it in his own words. He always keeps a jacket for you, he’s never let you fail a test since you got together and he always always makes you extra food that he makes for himself. Maybe he’s done something wrong along the way.

It's not like he unintentionally made the food spicy for you. Sometimes it just slips his mind that your portion can't be the same level of spicy as his is. And he knows how sad you get when you fail an exam, which is why he forgoes normal dates to sit and study with you. Of course he'd much rather do something like hiking or fucking, he doesn't know, laser tag with you, but he'd always put your education first. He knows how much it means to you after all.

An ugly feeling nags at him. It makes him want to pull away from you, show some distance so people would stop talking for a bit. But another part of him wants to run to your house right now and tell you I'm sorry. please don't leave. I can do better. Neither of those feelings actually make him do anything, though, because he's stubborn and refuses to cave.

Ugh. He thinks, before promptly passing out on his bed.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

The evening of the prom arrives. You're standing in front of your mirror, all dressed up and pretty. Your dress accentuates your curves amazingly and you've adorned your cheeks with small star-shaped rhinestones and sprayed a generous amount of body glitter all over yourself. The shimmer makes itself known in every crevice of your room but it doesn't bother you right now.

An imaginary Bakugou makes himself comfortable on your bed. He's eyeing you up and down and groaning appreciatively at the sight he's been blessed with. Fuckin' gorgeous, he says, just like you know he would if he were actually here. You're wearing his colours after all.

Your hands smooth down your dress incessantly for the nth time that night, as if getting rid of the imperceptible wrinkles on your dress would get rid of the thoughts in your head as well. It doesn't, but it makes you feel calmer. Maybe some would call it dramatic, or stupid, but you don't even really feel like going without him.

You don't want to miss out on your prom, and you still want to dance with your friends and eat cheap shitty food though. So maybe your hair droops a little, akin to your mood, but you leave your house shining and smiling anyway.

And when you get there, things start looking up. Whoever's in charge of the music has been doing an amazing job of not playing Closer by the Chainsmokers on repeat yet so that's win in your book. In fact, they're not playing any songs that would give the average retail worker war flashbacks, which means they're doing a phenomenal job.

The hall is mostly full by the time you and your friends find a table near the back. There's a line at the punch table and you can already tell that it's probably spiked with something judging by the students practically dry-humping one another on the dancefloor, much to one of the school's chaperone's dismay.

The first hour passes by without a hitch. The buffet table is lined with cheap pizzas, stale fries and other questionable foods like jello cups that you're not sure is even made with real jelly. But your friends eat it anyway and you do too because food poisoning's all part of the party package.

At the back of the hall, there's a photo booth with props and signs for everyone to take. Your friends and yourself take ungodly amounts of pictures at the booth, laughing loudly without a care in the fucking world. You don't let yourself think about how Bakugou would scoff at the choice of props, you refuse to let yourself think about how he'd pose after choosing something equally stupid and you absolutely do not let yourself think about how much brighter you'd be smiling if he were here with you. You don't.

The sound system blares songs from bands you're somewhat familiar with, the bass of the songs echo and reverberate throughout the dancehall. It amplifies the adrenaline running through your veins as you jump around with the rest of the people in the hall. It feels silly and unnatural but you're giggling and swaying and it isn't so bad when you've got your girls right next to you doing the same thing.

It's easy to forget about all the aches when you let yourself get lost in the crowd. You're pushed into the middle of the dancefloor that's definitely filled with people who don't go to your school.

A song that you vaguely recognise by The Weeknd plays over the speakers and it's so fast paced that your heart thumps to the bass of the song. The tremors echo through the hall, shaking the floor and it becomes so easy to forget why you were upset in the first place.

The song ends and cheers from half-drunk high schoolers fills the temporary silence that follows. The DJ announces that he's about to slow things down a little for a kick of romance. He stretches out the word romance so it sounds more like roooowmaynceee and when the music fades into something mellower, it becomes even easier to remember.

It becomes increasingly harder to ignore the pitiful glances your friends send your way as they're whisked away by their own dates. Humiliation and longing pools in your belly as you watch your friends get their waists held and their bodies swayed and it fucking sucks. Even though you wave dismissively at them, it does look quite pathetic when you slowly move to stand against the wall by yourself.

Your eyes sweep over the couples dancing, and you pray that no one asks you to dance while you're being a wallflower. You don't think you'd want to dance with anyone but him anyway. Distantly, your mind wanders to Bakugou, and you're left thinking about what he must be doing at this hour. Maybe he's studying, or watching a movie, or cooking something inedible like always. Maybe he's already asleep. Maybe he's missing you and he's on his way over here right now.

Nobody is crueler to you than yourself, you think, as you let your mind wander dangerously into that false pretence of hope that he might change his mind about showing up.

There's a phantom feeling that glides over your skin as you watch your friends dance, and you wrap your hands around your elbows to soothe it. The sweat from your earlier dancing cools off as the air in the hall gets cooler and you're not sure if it's the crisp, cold air, or the fact that you're painfully aware of Katsuki's absence that makes your throat sting each time you inhale.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

In the end, Katsuki's mother is the one who quite literally knocks some sense into him. Mitsuki Bakugou is not a force to be reckoned with, ever, and as tough and cool Katsuki makes himself seem, he'll always be a little bit intimidated by his mom. It's why he tries to seem as nonchalant as possible as he sits on his couch while staring unblinkingly at the TV.

Mitsuki pops her head into the living room. Fuck, he didn't think she'd be home so soon.

"Katsuki? What the hell are you still doing here?"

"You going crazy, hag? It's a Friday night, am I not allowed to take a fuckin' break or what?" He swallows.

"Language, asshat. And I just stopped by Inko's, brat, I know what day it is today," she sighs annoyedly before plopping down next to him, "She tried to show me Every. Single. Photo of Izuku in his tux. I had to tell her I left the stove on to get out of there. So quit the bullshit. Why are you still here?"

Katsuki has a pillow in his lap and he squeezes it until his knuckles turn pale so his voice won't waver.

"She didn't want me to take her," he lies, hoping his mom will take the bait.

Mitsuki shoves her son's head to the side good-naturedly, "I thought I told you to quit the bullshit, brat. That girl adores the hell out of you for some fucking reason, so don't try to lie to me."

It's that one goddamn line that has him snapping at her. It's her words and the stupid girls in the stupid fucking toilet and it's an amalgamation of everything that has him wanting to tear his fucking hair out that makes him lose it.

"Yeah, okay, fuck you too mom. You're right, I don't fucking know why someone like her wants to be with someone as fucked up and angry and- and mean and aggressive as I am too, alright? Everyone at school already fucking wonders why she even wants me so I didn't take her to this stupid fucking prom 'cus maybe they'll get off my back about fucking forcing her to be with me. I'm not in the goddamn mood to be hearing about this shit so fuck off. I wish I knew what the fuck she sees in me that's so good but I don't so just stop this fucked up interrogation, God."

He's not even looking at the TV anymore. He spits out his outburst while staring straight at his hands fisted in the poor pillow. It'll never uncrease now. His jaw is clenched so tightly he's scared his teeth might just shatter in his mouth. He doesn't want to look at his mom right now, too afraid to see her pitiful gaze directed at him. Doesn't want to hear her say you're right Katsuki, I don't know what she sees in you either.

Katsuki braces himself for an impact, knowing he's probably about to get smacked for talking to her like that. He doesn't expect the hand that gently lands atop his head, and he doesn't expect the hand that's curling behind his ears to turn his head towards her. Mitsuki looks at her son, making sure he really looks at her this time.

"Katsuki." She says, as gentle as the first time she held him in her arms. It doesn't matter how many years have passed, he looks just as small to her right now, and just like the day he was born, she will wrap him up and make sure he knows how loved he is.

"Katsuki, listen. I'm sorry for saying that," Mitsuki exhales, "It was a joke, but it was insensitive and I'm sorry. Every other time I said something like that about you wasn't true either. You're a good son and a good student and a good person. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, or says about you because the people who truly care about you know that you're a good fucking person, Katsuki."

Katsuki can barely hold eye contact with her. As embarrassing as it is, his vision blurs over and he will never acknowledge the way his voice breaks. "Mom," he shudders, "I'm always trying so fucking hard. I want to be good, please."

A noise that sounds like a choked back sob escapes him unwillingly. Mitsuki pulls his face into her shoulder and smiles when he barely resists. He fits just like he did before he thought hugging her wasn't cool anymore.

"You are good. You are so good, Katsuki." she whispers, "You always help to cook, and you keep the house clean and your grades up. You don't speak politely but you are honest and you are just like me. You use your hands, actions, to communicate rather than words. But you know, Katsuki, sometimes the people we love need to hear it from us too, okay? We'll both work on that."

A miniscule nod. "I'll start right now, Katsuki. You may be a brat sometimes, but you are my son. My sun. You are good, and kind and for everything you do not love about yourself, I love it tenfold."

He absolutely does not break at that. Katsuki bites back a whine, and exhales shakily again, soaking in her words like a sponge because he knows these moments for them come few and far in between. He doesn't mind. He thinks it's special that way, cherishing it whenever it does happen even more.

Mitsuki cards her hands through his hair, "You're a winner, Katsuki, that's why you have your name. Don't let whatever happened get to you like this. If you don't go to that stupid prom, you'll be making the biggest mistake of your life. Because I love you very much, and it might even be possible that that girl of yours loves you just as much, or maybe even a smidge more. Get your ass changed, and talk to her, alright? I know it's scary, letting someone in, but you care about her and you need to do this."

Katsuki pulls away from her, wiping his face roughly with his arms. He sniffles harshly, trying to erase all traces of the vulnerability he just showed. He bites his lip hard enough to almost draw blood. He wants to say he loves her back but the words fail him. Not yet, he thinks.

"I don't know what colour her dress is." He says instead.

"Wear your red suit. Don't ask questions, go get ready. You're already late, I'll call a cab for you."

Katsuki nods, getting up to walk to his room. He's halfway up the stairs when he pauses for a second. "Thanks mom. Love you."

Mitsuki waves her hand dismissively in his direction.

Katsuki stands in front of his mirror, inspecting everything he sees as if that'll change the way he feels about himself. His mom talking to him helped a lot, but he's still finding it hard to breathe and it's not just because his collar is choking him a bit. He fiddles with his bracelet. He tries to ground himself as he thinks about whether he should put on a different suit.

He really wishes he listened to what you were saying when you were talking about your dress. What if he shows up and his suit clashes with your dress? That would just make your night worse.

It's ridiculous. He knows he's just procrastinating. Because thinking about suit colours is easier than thinking about the crippling insecurity that still sits heavily on his shoulders, shackling him with the sheer weight of it all. He'd rather think about the colour of your dress than the fact that he feels like he can't give you what you deserve in a boyfriend.

His reflection frowns back at him.

The words you said play in his head like a broken record. You are the worst, you told him. He thinks of all the things he never really says to you because for some reason his emotionally constipated self just can't bring himself to say them. (Because he says I love you, but he means he hopes you never trip on your shoelaces if they're untied, that your hair never tangles in the wind, that if your drink spills not a drop of it would touch you, that your hands are always warm, that you'd never forget to bring your headphones before you leave the house and that you're always safe whenever he's not with you. Because he says I love you, but he means he hopes that if the sky were to drizzle, the raindrops themselves would feel privileged just to be able to fall upon your skin. Because he says I love you but he means he hopes you know he wants to say it right to your face, and into your mouth and kiss the words and every version of it's meaning into the space where your shoulder meets your neck every morning when he wakes up and every night before he lets himself succumb to slumber. He says I love you, but he means more than what those words convey. He says I love you, but he means stay warm, stay safe. He says I love you but he means my heart belongs more to you than me. He says I love you but he means he'll never want anything else for as long as he lives if it meant you'd always stay with him. He says I love you but he means come home to me and keep coming home to me, please.)

Oh.

If he could kick himself for being so stupid, he would. But he can't so he'll let you do it for him instead. I am not a coward, he tells himself as his unsteady hands try to make his hair look less of a mess. It doesn't work so he leaves it be and dashes out the door with an undone tie around his neck and he hastily side-hugs his mom- dodging her attempts to groom him- before throwing himself into the cab.

He doesn't make it a habit to show up late, but hopefully this time you'll forgive him. This time showing up late is better than not at all.

He's never made it a habit to show up late but maybe this time showing up late is better than not showing up at all. He drums his fingers nervously on his thigh throughout the entire ride. He hopes to God you're having fun. He hopes you know he's on the way. He hopes, and hopes and prays that he hasn't lost his chance.

When he arrives, he doesn't even spare a glance for his own friends, too preoccupied with finding you. The hall isn't very big but the space is large enough that he has to walk around a few times just to spot you.

The minute he sees you leaning against the wall, he wishes desperately he could go back in time. He'd do fucking anything to erase that faraway look in your eyes. He can see the way you're yearning to be one of the couples on the dancefloor and he wants to unwrap your hands around yourself and replace it with his own.

Katsuki breathes in deep and makes his way towards you cus damn it, if you wanted a dance, he'll give you a fucking dance alright.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

The last slow song finally slowly tunes out, transitioning into a more upbeat one. The couples finally disentangle themselves from one another and you're just about to step back onto the dancefloor when a very familiar pair of arms snake around your waist.

You didn't even see him come in. It doesn't matter how he apparated here, because the only thing that matters right now is the fact that he showed up and the way his arms fit snugly around your hips. A breathless sound of disbelief escapes your lips as he pulls you into him when you turn around to face him.

If he's surprised by the lack of anger or disappointment on your face, he doesn't show it. All he knows is the feeling of your arms coming up to rest up on his shoulders. With the way you're beaming up at him, anyone would think that the only thing he did was show up almost two hours late. He knows better though, he knows he fucked up when all you wanted was for him to bring you to this stupid dance. And on God, would he try his hardest to make it up to you.

Katsuki leans into you, burying his nose into your hair that's all pinned up and pretty. He's getting glitter all over his face and suit and he doesn't care at all.

"I'm sorry," he exhales, letting the apology spill out of him, "'M so fuckin' sorry, princess."

It's so quiet, you almost think he never said it at all. In the background, you can just barely register the lyrics of Paramore's Still Into You that's currently playing. A litany of 'thank yous' is mentally conveyed to the DJ.

"And what are you sorry for?"

Katsuki clenches his jaw, his eyes darting away from yours like he's struggling not to look away. He groans before telling you, "There’s been rumours going on, people talking shit like they know us. Saying fuck all, running their fuckin’ mouths about how you could do better than me. And it’s stupid that I believed them for even a millisecond, I know. Then I realised that if I let you show up here alone then i’d just be proving those fuckers right. So, you win, princess. I took you to this stupid prom. I showed up, ‘m here right now."

Even though it's been said before, the lack of confidence Katsuki has in himself is absolutely baffling. It's like he can admit he has flaws and weaknesses and he'll know exactly what the problem is but he won't fucking talk to you for some reason you can't figure out.

Nvermind, you figured it out.

He's scared. Bakugou Katsuki is fearless. He's not afraid of anything, because he knows everything he's afraid of can be defeated one way or another. His fear of failure is conquered with his efforts in order to secure success. His fear of inferiority to anyone that's a threat towards him can be overtaken by brandishing his own achievements like a sword, or like armour. But when you come along, suddenly it becomes: Bakugou Katsuki was fearless.

The only thing he's scared of is losing you. That’s something that he alone can’t control, because you could very well decide to leave him if you ever felt like it. He realises that if he didn't show up tonight, the chances of that happening would be much much higher, and then if he lost you, he'd be a loser. Bakugou Katsuki is not a loser.

Your chest tightens at the thought that he actually believed that you’d leave him for someone better, as if someone like that even existed. One of your hands reaches up to curl around his neck, forcing him to look at you. You shake your head firmly when he tries leaning away.

You’re glad your voice remains steady when you say, "You should've talked to me. ‘Suki, I can’t believe you almost blew me off because of some shit some people we don’t even know thought about us. They don’t know anything about us, alright? They don’t fucking know how good I have it with you and you shouldn't keep all that to yourself next time, okay?”

His grip tightens, “You should’ve heard them though. Girls are fuckin’ ruthless. Talking about how easily you could just fuck off and get with someone better. Saying I... I'm forcing you to be with me. Fuck, it made me feel like shit ‘cause I knew there was some truth in what they said. I know I can stand to be nicer to you.”

Your hands find their way to his undone tie and you tug, “Katsuki, I don’t care about what they said. You hear me?”

Once he nods, you go on, "I couldn't do any better than you, because you're already the best. You said it yourself. If you think I deserve better, then be better, 'cause I don't want anyone but you. So stop trying to push me away. Whoever started all this can fucking eat our asses 'cause clearly they don't need their mouths if all they're gonna do is talk shit."

"Holy fuck, you really need to stop spending so much time with me." Katsuki snorts.

With a laugh, he twirls you around two times all while complaining that you're starting to sound exactly like him. But you’re not so sure he really minds so much judging by the way he grins wickedly at you. When his arms go back to their rightful place, you rest your forehead against his chest, "Also, let me? 'Suki, I did show up here alone. Which means that technically, you didn't really take me here, you know? 'Cause I had to come here all by myself."

Katsuki huffs and puffs, and leans back far enough to flick your forehead softly. He sways you slowly to the music, despite how fast the music is, "What matters is that I'm here. I’m fuckin' sorry for making you show up here all alone. Look, I’m even dancing with ya, ain’t that enough?”

Am I enough?

Katsuki says all that like he's exasperated with you but really he's posing it as a question. He's asking, and looking for a chance to redeem himself. Like always, you rest even more of your weight against him, knowing you can let yourself go boneless against him and he'll hold you all the same. He's all strong and soft and sturdy and you can hear his heartbeat thundering beneath his clothes and you make sure he can hear you when you say, "You've always been more than enough."

You can feel the way any lingering tension escapes him when you tell him that. He tells you softly, promises you that he'll start opening up more to you, and he kisses you on the cheek to really seal it in. The song echoes throughout the room, thrumming in your veins and making you feel weightless.

Some things just, some things just make sense and one of those is you and I.

His eyes don't waver as he really takes you in, savouring the image of how good you look. He sears the image of you into his brain and he hopes you know how serious he means when he rasps, "Fuck, ya look gorgeous by the way. Absolutely fucking stunnin' and I really fuckin' wish no one else but me could look at ya." His hands run down your sides slowly and squeeze at your hips, eliciting goosebumps all over your skin.

Heat quickly floods your cheeks and pools in your tummy, and his hands tighten his hold on you. You grin at him, "Well, ignoring your tie, I think you look very handsome as well. I'm surprised our colours didn't clash."

Katsuki barks a laugh at that. If only you knew.

It's quite the scene to see you and him swaying gently to such a hyped up tune. Everyone mostly crowds up around the front of the hall. But you and Katsuki hang back from the big mass of sweaty bodies, choosing to stand nearer to the opposite end of the room. If your friends look at you weird, you don't take notice. It's as if you're in your own little world; just you and him.

The second chorus sounds and Katsuki dips you as low as he can get before you yell at him. When you come back up, he's looking at you all starry eyed, staring directly at your lips. He can't stop himself, he cuts you off while you're singing along to kiss you right then. He swallows the little 'mmphrh!' that comes out of your throat greedily, sliding one of his hands up your back all the way to the cuff of your neck to press you even closer into him.

"Fuckin' missed you and your pretty fucking mouth, baby." he sighs breathlessly into you.

It's barely a chaste kiss, looking quite messy for a high school prom. Thankfully no staff member comes in between you and him, so he pulls away slowly before leaning back in. He kisses you once, twice and then some more and even a fifth and sixth time, like he's making up for all the days he didn't.

After he's satisfied with all the kisses he's peppered on your face, he leans away, smiling sillily. "She's right, you know?"

Your eyebrows furrow but your lips quirk up anyway, "What are you talking about?"

Katsuki spins you slowly, "The singer. She's right," and leads you back into him before singing monotonously, "After all this time, I'm still into you."

"You are such a loser, that was so cringe. Oh my god, what the fuck," you laugh, but your heart squeezes in affection.

Katsuki doesn't know if it's the haphazardly hung disco ball and the flashing lights that makes your eyes shine and sparkle or if it's just you, but he can't tear his eyes away from you. You're looking at him like he split the oceans for you, and he thanks every star in the sky that you're letting him hold you this close again.

If he knew how unreal you’d look when you’re dancing in his arms, he never would’ve ditched this thing. What a shame, he thinks, that he missed out on two whole hours that could have been spent with you looking like this. Maybe it’s the air in the hall but he feels practically giddy at the sight of you enjoying yourself, and it makes his heart fucking leap because it’s him that’s making you smile like that.

The sides of his mouth hurt from how much they've been stretched tonight, but he can't keep the smile off his face when you say, "You're right though. She is right."

He hums along to the tune, because denies it as he may, he absolutely loves this song just as much as you do.

Your eyes drink up the sight of Katsuki dressed up so… in character. His hair is as messy as ever, his tie hangs loose and undone around his neck and you’re sure his suit jacket has seen better days but he looks fucking ethereal to you. He’s all lethal grins and loud laughter and his cologne smells as spicy and warm as it always does and you realise again just how in love you are with him.

Katsuki’s eyes are gleaming, and maybe it’s just a trick in the light but you’re reminded of just how lucky you are to have him like this. Because maybe he is brash and harsh when he talks to you, but he’s never treated you like you’re anything but the most important thing in his life. To him, you’re his favourite person in the whole world, and he doesn’t need to say it out loud because he knows you know it too.

So maybe Katsuki isn't easy to read, or deal with. That doesn't mean he's not easy to love. Because loving him was like breathing— instinctual and inevitable. You loved him the way the moon loved the ocean, and the way the sun loved the stars. Loving him was the easiest thing you've ever done in your life, and you knew that wasn’t ever going to change.

And baby even on our worst nights, I'm into you. Let 'em wonder how we got this far, 'cause I don't really need to wonder at all. Yeah, after all this time, I'm still into you

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

(extra)

Later, when the two of you have sufficiently made out against the wall enough for the chaperones to flick water at Katsuki so he'll finally pull away, you'll find his hand and pull him along to the rest of your friends.

Kirishima will see you two and laugh, telling Katsuki he's glad he pulled his head out of his ass. Katsuki will hiss, "Kay why ess..." and drag you to the photo booth. You won't tell him, but you're secretly glad that you were right. He does scoff at the assortment of props but he picks up a stupid styrofoam emoji of a bomb.

He pushes you into the booth and sets the timer for the picture. Right as it's about to go off, he looks at you very seriously as he says, "You put the boom-boom into my heart," before absolutely smashing the emoji against your cheek.

"KATSU I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU-"

The photos come out blurry and you're wide-mouthed and laughing in all of them. He's looking at you like you're the only thing that exists. There’s barely any inches between you and him like you’re the sun and he’s every planet that orbits your celestial body.

Katsuki walks you home afterwards, laughing and stealing your body heat as he delivers you to your doorstep. When you kiss him goodnight, he thinks he must have known you in every life before this one for him to have the capacity to love you as much as he does. He keeps his copy of the photo in his wallet, signing the back with 'still into you xx'.

Not that he needs the reminder.

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soapskneebrace · 4 months

Note

same anon who sent the ask abt price: MW3's writing was embarrassing tbh. i agree 100% that narratively, its the most logical and sensible for price to be the one who takes the fall. what you wrote i flat out completely agree with, and its deeply disappointing that we are stuck with an extremely poorly written and rushed story. the game was a hot steamy pile. everyone was slightly out of character, they all growled their lines like mad dogs, and the missions were ass. i cant believe no one talks about the mission where you get anti arab hate crimed. what was that??? what was the reason??? (the only thing i liked about that game were the 9 minutes of nikolai. i just find him entertaining.) i was replaying mw2019 while super high and got to the mission where you threaten the butchers wife and son and just thought to myself; that lady and that kid are gonna have nightmares about price for the rest of their lives. that room is going to come back to them again and again and again. they literally did nothing wrong except the crime of being the butchers family. what price and gaz did is never going to leave them, and gaz was right to question price on that. of course, the game doesn't care at all. they're disposable NPCS for a shock value scene. i dunno, the fact that the game doesn't really give a fuck, and seemingly even condones what happened, just kinda hit different and i had to put the game down for the evening. i guess that hit at that moment bc i had also read a fic a bit earlier where the reader was price's civvy gf and gets kidnapped by his enemies. it bent my brain a bit bc, the thing in the fic is literally a canon event perpetuated by price, portrayed as a good thing by the source material, that now price is the victim of. it was a very weird feeling for my weed addled brain to try and process. think i blue screened actually. i wanna put price in a jar and shake him vigorously. pin him to a board like a entomology insect. i want to bite him. i do love him i swear. but maybe make him actually face a single real consequence for his war crimes? (disappointing that it will never happen on screen bc these games are all gas no breaks outright propaganda. not to mention real war crimes are happening constantly in front of everyone's eyes and going completely unpunished) sorry this is really long, i have no one to talk to abt these games and i dont understand my feelings toward that British man

Yeah. The thing about Price is that he's not a good person in the slightest. We write fiction about the kind of man he can be--the best version of himself, a version we can all stomach--but the real Price is distinct from that, and the best people in this fandom recognize that.

Soap and Ghost have some plausible deniability simply because we haven't seen them doing anything other than action movie stuff. Gaz is on the road to becoming Price--Price is doing his damndest to turn Gaz into himself--but he isn't there yet. (@391780 did a GREAT analysis of the driving scene in mw19 and how Price subtly manipulates Gaz, but I can't find it.)

EDIT: Early kindly provided.

We, as the audience, are not actually supposed to worry that much about the Butcher's family, because Price is one of the Good Guys who would never let something Bad actually happen. Infinity Ward does not take the Butcher's family seriously, and does not want us to take the family seriously, because they are just a convenient vehicle with which to move the plot along. Their presence is, in the end, shock value. We are meant to stare, wide-eyed, wondering is Price really going to go that far? while in the back of our minds knowing of course he's not, because he's our hero. He's just doing whatever it takes. The family is not meant to be anything other than fodder for Price's characterization.

Same with Samara. We are not supposed to care all that much about her, personally--we're supposed to marvel over Makarov's canny brutality, his bRiLLiANcE in recognizing the obvious fact that an Arab woman would make a perfect scapegoat for a plane bombing. Samara does not matter to MW3. Only the shocking way she dies. None of these Arab characters matter to Call of Duty--only the entertainment value of their pain.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but I am reminded of when Price threw a man restrained into a bomb jacket off a balcony, with not a shred of remorse afterword. I'm forced to ask the question--who would Price scapegoat, then, if he felt justified enough?

And yeah, he's never going to suffer the consequences of his actions, because Infinity Ward doesn't think he's actually done anything wrong. We throw the word propaganda around a lot without actually defining it, but Price is emblematic of how the propaganda of Call of Duty works. Price does something reprehensible, and is shown to be justified in doing it--implying that real men like him are justified, too, because don't you understand how little choice Price had? Don't you get that there's no good choice to be made? This is how he has to act, and this is how all soldiers have to act, because war is a dirty business, and someone needs to be willing to do it for the benefit of the ignorant public.

The question of why any of this should be happening at all is never asked.

#answered

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katethewriter · 2 years

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congrats on 1k!!! how abt wandanat x reader where r is a singer and on tour. wandanat surprise r on tour? btw love your writinggg!!

She is Love

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Words: 3.5k~

Warnings: none, light angst in the beginning, total fluff at the end, cheesy writing

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. So, thank you so much to the anon who requested this. I love you. Also, if you're curious, this is titled after the song She is Love by Parachute. You should totally go check it out! Listen on repeat while reading the fic. It's definitely one of my favorite songs (this is my fave cover, also how I imagine R sounds singing it). Without any further ado, here we go! I hope you enjoy!

“Where are you, detka?” Wanda asks leaning forward in the passenger seat. She brings the phone closer to her face to examine the background behind you.

Natasha looks over from the driver seat, “let me see.”

The Sokovian pulls the phone away from the other woman’s view, “eyes on the road, Romanoff.”

The assassin rolls her eyes, but does as she’s told, grumbling something along the lines of ‘She’s my girlfriend too.’

From the other side of the facetime call, you laugh at your girlfriends’ antics. Part of you, a large part, aches to be with them right now, especially on a day like today. But you don’t want them to see you upset, so you push the feeling away and smile, “wait- where are you?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Wanda raises an eyebrow, “I asked first.”

Now, you are the one rolling your eyes. “Fine,” you say and flip your camera around, “I’m in a coffee shop.”

Panning around the small shop, you give them a view of your drink on the table before turning the camera back to face you.

“It’s cute and just down the block from my hotel.” You take a quick look around the room, “its bringing back some memories. You know?” You smile to your girlfriend.

Wanda smiles sweetly, “I know, detka.”

“Where is Gary?” Natasha asks from off screen.

“Calm down,” you turn the camera around again to show your bodyguard standing on the other side of the coffee shop window, “he’s right there. I am capable of taking care of myself, you know.”

“We do know,” Wanda turns the phone so you can see them both, “we also know that thousands of people have flocked to that city to see you perform. Our enemies could be hiding amongst them.”

You release a long sigh. They did this the last time you went on tour too, though you weren’t nearly as popular and well-known that time. They still demanded that you have a bodyguard with you whenever you left the hotel. Though you felt it was unnecessary, you obliged to give them peace of mind when they couldn’t be there to protect you.

The tour has been exhilarating, but it is hitting you a bit harder than the first one. For your first tour, you were just an opening act; this go around, you are the headliner. Everyone that comes to these concerts is there to see you, and you are dedicated to giving them the best show possible, even if it exhausts you, even if it makes you miss time with your girlfriends.

It’s been so long since you have seen them last, and sometimes all the facetimes, phone calls, and texts in the world can’t make up for not being in their arms.

Today is one of those days.

Make no mistake. You are so grateful to be where you are in your career and for your girlfriends who have supported you every step of the way. Just sometimes you wish you had a break.

Wanda must have picked up on this, “are you ok?” Her expression hints at worry, but her voice manages to stay light.

“You never answered my question,” you quickly changed the subject, “where are you guys?”

Natasha looks over from the driver’s side with a cheeky smile. “In a car,” she answers and turns her attention back to the road.

You chuckles, “yeah I got that, but where are you driving?”

Wanda shakes her head, “detka, you know we can’t tell you that.”

Ducking your head, you nod, “right.”

Dating two avengers proved to be a bit harder than you had first anticipated. Take a situation like today for example.

The original plan was for them to be here today. They were going to see the show, and tomorrow night’s show and then you would get to spend your off day with them after that. However, they had been given a last-minute mission, so plans changed.

Maybe that’s why you missed them so much. You had gotten too excited for them to be here.

“We’re sorry, lyubov,” the widow apologizes. She can hear the disappointment in your voice, and it’s breaking her heart. “As soon as this mission is over, we will be on the next flight to you. I promise.”

You smile and nod, not wanting to worry them anymore.

The Sokovian attempts to distract you from the hard emotions, “so what else do you have left to do today?”

Glancing at your watch quickly, you tell them of your schedule for the day, “well, I have a sound check in a little over an hour, maybe a quick dance rehearsal. Then a small lunch, meet and greet, then we get ready for the show.”

Natasha pulls over and parks the car, so she can really pay attention to the call before you have to end it.

“Sounds like you’re gonna be busy… as always,” Wanda jokes. She manages to pull a genuine smile from you and it makes her heart soar.

“As always,” you playfully agree.

Your other girlfriend takes the phone, “be safe and have fun!”

“Okay-“

“and for the love of god, drink water,” she quickly adds. You try and fail to hide the blush forming in your cheeks.

Damn, they know you so well.

“I will,” you promise, “can I call you after the show?”

Your girlfriends share a look, and you know they are having a silent conversation in they’re heads. When they’re done, Wanda answers, “maybe, it will depend on where we are in the mission. We will text you to let you know, ok?”

It’s not what you wanted, but it’s better than no contact at all. So, you’ll take it. “Ok, I guess I probably need to be heading back,” you grab your coffee and stand, making your way to the exit.

“Have a great show! Break a leg!” Natasha encourages you with a smile.

Wanda mirrors her, “we love you so much, and we are so incredibly proud of you.”

“I love you both too,” you smile warmly to them. You blow them a kiss and end the call. You make your way to Gary, so you both can walk to the venue.

You miss your girls greatly, but right now, you need to focus on the performance.

The call ends, and Wanda slumps into her seat.

The Sokovian looks to her girlfriend, “I hate lying to her.”

“Me too, but don’t worry. It’ll be worth it,” the Russian kisses her softly. She puts the car in drive and they continue they’re journey.

🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶

A loud ringing sound fills your ears.

You just finished one of your most popular songs, and the audience is cheering. You hold the pose for another moment before you turn to the stage hand who carries your water bottle and acoustic guitar.

“Thank you,” you take the water and drink greedily while the band plays transition music. Switching the water bottle for the guitar, you get ready to continue the show.

Up next in the set is the empty slot.

Every performance, about 2/3 through the show, you have a slot which you get to use as you wish. Often times, you will pull a fan on stage, which is always a blast. Sometimes, you just want to sing a song not from the set list.

Tonight, you decided to sing a special song.

Walking down to the end of the catwalk, you strum the guitar while the band fades out slowly. Waiting for you at the end of the platform is a stool and two microphones on stands. One for you to sing into and the other to pick up the guitar.

Sitting down, you take a moment to look around. You strum lightly, surrounded by audience members. Some standing right beside the stage, looking up at you excitedly.

“Is it alright with you guys if I slow things down a bit?” you ask into the mic.

Happy cheers sound all around you making you smile widely to them all.

“Thanks,” you continue to strum, “I kinda want to tell you guys a story. It’s about a girl who liked to make music; I bet you can guess who that girl was.”

They cheer again, and you chuckle.

“Yep, its about me, back before I released a song, before I dropped an album, before that album hit the top of the charts. Back when performing in a stadium like this,” you pause to look around, eyes scanning all the way from the audience members on the floor to the ones up in the nosebleeds, “was just a pipe dream.”

“I used to play in these little hole in the wall venues around New York, café’s, a few bars, a park or two.” Pausing to take a breath, you glance down to your hands as they manipulate the strings to produce sound. You look back up and continue, “one day, I was playing in a little coffee shop, and the two most beautiful women I’ve ever seen walked in.”

At the reference to your girlfriends, the crowd goes crazy, erupting into applause and screams.

Your connection to them is well known all around the world. The relationship between two avengers and a very popular music artist has hit headlines multiple times over the past few years. Almost all being positive.

The three of you are seen as champions for the queer community and the first major representation of a throuple and poly relationships in general. Your fans being some of your biggest supporters with their social media fan pages all over the internet.

You laugh at their excitement, “ok, so you know which two women I’m talking about? Well, they sat in that coffee shop all day listening to me play, and I guess you know, the rest is history.” Smiling softly, you make sure to keep your voice from shaking. Maybe telling the story of how you met the loves of your life while you are missing them so much wasn’t the greatest idea, but here you are.

“The funny thing about this story,” you smile widely, “is that it took place exactly four years ago today.”

They all begin to scream again, and you have to wait for them to quiet down.

“So you can imagine today is a pretty special day to me,” you chuckle, “so to honor this special day, I would like to play a very special song. It was actually one of the ones I played in that coffee shop that day, so…. here we go.”

Plucking at the guitar strings, you let the sound of the crowd fade away, as you focus on the song and the two you wish were here to hear it….. and then you sing….

“I've been beaten down. I've been kicked around, but she takes it all for me...

... and I lost my faith in my darkest days, but she makes me want to believe.

They call her love, love, love, love, love.

She is love, and she is all I need. Yeah, yeah.”

In this moment, you could hear a pin drop.

The audience is silent. Out of thousands of people, no one makes a sound. Every soul in the stadium is mesmerized as you play.

It’s incredible, like you have stopped time, creating a bubble around yourself and your guitar while the rest of them remain frozen.

From their seats, Wanda and Natasha watch just as entranced as the others. Tears fill their eyes as they are transported back 4 years ago. They’ve admitted that the moment you played this song in the coffee shop that day, that was the moment they knew they were going to fall in love with you.

You’ve played them this song on this day every year since, and you didn’t break the tradition today.

Wanda squeezes Natasha’s hand, gaining her attention. They share a glance, and in each other’s eyes, they see the love they share for you reflecting back at them. Turning back at the stage, they fall under your spell again.

They somehow fall even more in love with you as you continue to sing.

“Well, I had my ways. They were all in vain, but she waited patiently.

It was all the same. All my pride and shame, but she put me on my feet.

They call her love, love, love, love, love.

She is love, and she is all I need. She is love, and she is all I need.

She's all I need.”

The last note echoes through the stadium as the song ends. A moment of silence follows as no one wants to break the moment.

Through the silence, you think you hear a voice in your head.

“We love you more than you will ever know, Y/n.”

Instantly, you stand.

“Wanda?” you ask loudly in your mind.

While the crowns applauses, your eyes search the audience even though you doubt you would be able to spot her even if she was here.

‘But she’s not here,’ you have to remind yourself.

“Everything ok?” your stage manager asks through the intercom in your ear. You must have been standing there a while.

Turning back to the main part of the stage, you answer her, “yeah, I’m good.”

You pass off your guitar for a microphone and move on to the next song.

🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶

“Ready to head back to the hotel?” Gary asks, when you meet him at the stage door.

You crack an exhausted smile, “you have no idea.”

He opens the door, and you step out onto the sidewalk.

As you cross the threshold, you are met with cold night air and the crowd of fans that have gathered at the stage door. You have to hold back your sigh.

Even though all you wanna do is crawl into bed, you love one on one interaction with your fans. With a wide smile, you pull a sharpie out of your bag and greet the group.

“Y/n, can you sign this?” a woman asks, holding out a vinyl record of your album.

“Sure!” you oblige happily.

A small girl and her grown-up approach, and you can tell the child is a bit nervous. Dropping to her level, you ask, “what can I do you for, beautiful girl?”

She smiles widely and asks for a picture.

This pattern continues as you move from person to person, taking pictures, signing photos, tshirts, books.

Gary stands a few feet away from you, watching ready to intervene in a moments notice if needed. He quickly glances around the street, checking the environment for possible threats. Looking to the side, two very familiar individuals catch his eye.

One brings a finger to her lips in a ‘shhhh’ symbol. The bodyguard smiles smugly and nods, returning his focus to his charge.

Next, you see an individual about your age. They wear a gender-nonbinary button on their jacket and hold a flag in their hand. “Hi, I’m a huge fan of you and your girlfriends,” they greet sheepishly, “actually….. you three kinda inspired me to finally come out to my family. Would you sign my poly flag, please?”

Your heart swells and smile ear to ear, “I would be honored!” Moments like this made everything worth it. You sign the flag and take a picture with before you had to move on to the next fan.

Before you can speak to the next one, Gary steps up beside you, “I’m sorry guys, but Miss Y/n needs to get going.” He gently starts directing you to the side, away from the group.

As you turn to stop him, your eyes pass over two people at the opposite end of the block. You do a double take to make sure you are really seeing correctly.

There with in walking distance is the two people you have wanted to see most all night. Without another thought, you break into a sprint to get to them immediately. Once close enough, you launch yourself into their arms, and they wrap around you tightly.

There is no stopping the happy tears that fall down your cheeks. It’s just been so long, and you are finally together.

Pulling back, you can see they both have tears in their eyes too. You lean forward capturing Wanda’s lips between your own.

You hear cheering mixed with the sound of photos being taken. You can’t bring yourself to care about the paparazzi photos that will circle the internet tomorrow.

All you care about is the two women in your arms.

Kissing Wanda feels like home. You deepen the kiss, trying to heal all of the ache and longing in it.

Beside you, Natasha clears her throat. “I missed you too, detka,” she teases sarcastically.

Wanda and you both laugh, ending the kiss with a final peck.

“Sorry,” you turn to the red head and wrap your arms around her neck. Bringing her into a kiss just as passionate as the one you gave Wanda, you squeal when she you picks up and spins around.

By the time she set you back on your feet, you feel dizzy from her kiss. You pull away to catch your breath, and Wanda resumes her place in the embrace.

Realization hits, and you turn to the witch wide eyed. “That was you I heard in my head after She is Love!”

The Sokovian crinkles her nose and smiles, “guilty.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” you look between the two questioningly.

“We wanted it to be a surprise,” Natasha shrugs.

“Sorry to interrupt,” your body-guard approaches, “the car is just around the corner here. You may wish to continue this reunion at the hotel.” He gestures to the crowd still gathered watching the three of you intently.

“Lead the way,” Natasha agrees, taking your hand and following the man.

He opens the back door for you all to get in, Wanda first and then you.

“Thanks Gary,” you smile before climbing in with Natasha right behind you. You sigh happily with your girlfriends on each side of. The three of you do nothing but snuggle the whole ride to the hotel.

“I’m still confused,” you state.

You lie on the hotel bed with your head in Wanda’s lap and Natasha lying beside you.

The three of you are freshly showered. The room service you ordered has been eaten. There is a movie playing on the tv, but no one is watching it. You are too focused on each other.

You look up at Wanda with a furrowed brow, “you’re supposed to be on a mission. How are you here?”

“Yeah, Fury tried to send us on a mission,” Natasha laughs, “after the briefing this morning, it was clear we were not needed. The rest of the team agreed they could handle it on their own.”

Wanda runs her fingers through your hair, “Tony lent us his fastest car, and we came as quick as we could.”

“We weren’t going to miss being with you,” the assassin places a delicate kiss to your head, “especially not today.”

Your two girlfriends make eye contact, and Wanda nods.

The assassin presses another kiss to your head and gets up from the bed to fetch something.

You whine at the loss of contact, but Wanda smiles and soothes you softly. Waiting for her to get back seems to take forever, and when she returns, she holds something behind her back.

“What do you have?” you ask amused and curious. You try to peak behind her back, but she moves so you are unsuccessful.

The Russian lays back in her spot, keeping her hand behind her back. “We had a plan to surprise you onstage, but because of the briefing, we didn’t make it in time to arrange it with your stage manager.”

“We were going to ask you during the concert,” Wanda smiles, “but this will do just as well.”

“Ask me wha-“

The words stop in your throat as Natasha finally reveals the small box from behind her back. As she opens it to display the ring inside, your eyes grow glassy.

“Will you marry us?” Natasha asks. She is looking at you like you hung the stars.

A tear slips down your cheek when you nod, “yes. Yes, of course! Yes!”

The widow grins as she slips the ring on your finger. She leans down to kiss you soundly. You then quickly sit up to kiss Wanda as well.

Pulling back from the kiss, you look down to your hand in awe. Looking between both Wanda and Natasha, you whisper, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” they say in unison.

For a moment, you get lost in their eyes, the two most beautiful set of eyes. Then you pull them both in for another short, but passionate kiss.

The three of you sink beneath the covers. Wanda and Natasha burrow into you as close as possible while you bask in their love.

The three of you lay and talk and catch each other looking at the ring on your finger. Occasionally, they bring you hand to their lips tenderly.

Eventually, you succumb to the exhaustion of the day, falling into a deep sleep safe in the arms of your fiancés.

#wandanat x reader #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #wanda x natasha #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximov x reader #natasha romanov x reader #wanda maximov x natasha romanov #wanda x natasha x reader #MCU #fem!reader #singer!reader #wlw #poly relationship #she is love #parachute

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atlabeth · 2 years

Text

a lady's guide to surviving the ton - benedict bridgerton

summary: you've prepared an endless list of rules and notes for the season to ensure a successful debut. benedict may be in need of some tips for a courtship of his own.

a/n: thank you for all the love on my first bridgerton fic!! like the amount of support has been insane and ily so much <3<3 bridgerton has just been really good for inspo lately so yk i had to write abt good ol benny boy. its just a short lil fluffy piece abt fun idiot courting methods lol but i hope you enjoy

wc: 1.4k

warning(s): none i think. just pure fluff

“Are you ever going to dance at one of these balls, or is writing your only intention?”

You glanced up from your journal and smiled, perhaps the only man in the ton capable of causing the reaction. “You may have years of experience from accompanying your siblings, but I have just debuted with my only experience being my older sister’s season. I am merely documenting everything I can so I shall be able to perform at my best during the season.”

Benedict chuckled. “Documenting everything? Making it through the season is quite simple — a couple charming smiles, a few courtesy dances, and you will have the men falling at your feet. Or, if you prefer, you can go the route of my brother — Anthony despises the season, and yet he still manages to have every lady at his beck and call. I truly do not understand how he does it.”

“Perhaps it is because of his attitude that he is so desirable to them,” you pointed out. “There is nothing a man loves more than a seemingly unattainable woman, but I’ve found the ladies of the ton to be quite similar in regards to untouchable men. It is the reason why, apart from riches and status, dukes and marquesses are so appealing to the masses.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You have certainly done your research on the ton, my lady. Maybe your wallflower strategy is indeed working out for you.”

“I try,” you said, bolstered by his praise. “Though, of course, the reason for his desirability could be much more simple.”

“And that is?”

You shrugged and smiled at him. “Anthony is devastatingly attractive. I find that works wonders on a lady.”

“Your deduction forces me to question the legitimacy of your work,” Benedict said with a slight frown. “Though I think we have an opportunity to prove it now.”

“Oh?”

Benedict offered a smile of his own along with his hand. “I consider myself quite attractive. Should it work wonders on you, your research shall be fully accepted.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you as you gave him a sideways smile. “That is awfully confident of you, Mister Bridgerton.”

“That is simply because I believe I am worthy of it, Miss Beauvale,” he responded in kind. “I would be grateful if you would indulge me in a dance.”

“Well,” you said with mock haughtiness as you accepted his hand, placing your journal on a table to the side, “how could I ever refuse?”

You each took your positions on the floor as you joined in seamlessly with the other dancers, one of Benedict’s hands on the small of your back and the other intertwined with your own hand as you set the other on his shoulder.

Only once you felt the movements register in your muscles, the waltz that had been ingrained in your mind after hours upon hours of dance lessons, did you begin to talk, trusting in your ability to continue without stumbling.

“The more that I think about it, the more I realize I have in fact never seen you on the dance floor with a woman other than your sisters,” you said. “Not in the balls we have had thus far nor the entirety of my sister’s season. However have you managed it?”

“It is the often overlooked privilege of the second son,” Benedict responded. “My siblings are quite skilled at taking over the spotlight, and thus I am rewarded the courtesy of remaining in the shadows and indulging in my own wants. It also helps that most ladies go after a title, and Anthony has far more to offer there than I.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “You are quite fortunate, Mister Bridgerton. No matter how hard I try to blend in with the walls, a suitor always manages to find me. It becomes exhausting after a time.”

“Then I suppose it is quite fortunate now that you have a suitor you can bear on your arm,” Benedict said playfully.

“Is that what you are?” you asked with a raised eyebrow. “A suitor?”

“I thought it was quite obvious with my asking you to dance,” he said, tilting his head to the side slightly. “Though I must admit, I am not very knowledgeable on all a suitor must do. If you have spent so much time watching, you ought to have some advice you can share.”

You looked at him with thinly veiled amusement. “Am I providing the resources for my own courtship?”

Benedict shrugged with mock ambivalence. “That is a secret, my lady, but it would mean a great deal if you could share some of your notes with me.”

You hummed as you pretended to think long and hard. “Many of my tips are for the ladies of the ton, but I suppose that I have some advice that can apply to gentlemen.”

He grinned. “Fantastic. Do tell.”

“Well,” you started, “it is most important to be kind, above all else. A lady will not entertain anyone who only deigns to insult her. Compliment not just her appearance, but her skills and mind as well — it can be upsetting to be praised only for the things one cannot control.”

“So if I were to, say, compliment a lady on how well the blues of her dress highlight her eyes, I should also commend her on how brilliantly articulated she is,” Benedict said with a coy smile, his eyes leaving your own for a moment to linger on the cerulean fabric of your outfit.

“Yes,” you responded with a nod, a smile of your own tugging at your lips, “though it is also polite to let her know when you are complimenting her. Perhaps when you are dancing with the aforementioned lady in blue.”

“I believe she understands what I am trying to say,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Please, continue.”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly but obliged nonetheless. “If a gentleman is interested in a lady, it is imperative that he asks her for a dance — a lady is unable to ask for a dance herself, but she is, on the other hand, barred from refusing an offer. It is the easiest way to show interest.”

Benedict hummed as he led you through a spin. “I’ve already asked a lovely lady to dance, so I believe you can move to your next step.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, the bottom of your skirt twirling with your movements before you took up your regular position again. “Apart from asking for dances, a gentleman must also be an active caller at his lady’s estate if he wishes to woo her. I’ve found offers of gifts and his company to be the most effective, especially if those gifts involve flowers.”

“Flowers,” he muttered to himself before he met your eyes again. “Completely off topic, but it is necessary all the same — what is your favorite type of flower?”

You grinned, now fully unable to hide your joy at his unconventional courting. “Purple hydrangeas.”

“Very lovely,” he nodded. “This all does seem to be coming together quite nicely. I feel as if you know the way to a lady’s heart better than I do.”

You chuckled. “That is simply not true. I am skilled at listening and watching from the sidelines — you are perfectly capable of gaining a lady’s affections.”

“You say it with such confidence,” Benedict said, the twinkle in his eye returning. “Could it be that I have already gained the affections of a certain lady?”

“Perhaps,” you said, barely managing to bite back your smile. “But perhaps you have held the affections of the lady in question well before this season.”

“Certainly a twist of events,” he said with mock austerity. “Though I suppose the confession means I was correct all along. A pretty face truly is all it takes for a lady to fall.”

You felt your cheeks flush yet again and Benedict smiled, though his expression faltered for a moment. “That is— if you are the lady in question.”

“Of course I am, Benedict,” you giggled. “I thought it was quite obvious with my blatant flirting.”

His sheepish smile told you all you needed to know as the dance came to an end, the two of you separating as you bowed to each other. “I take it this means I am officially courting you, Miss Beauvale?”

“I would love nothing more, Mister Bridgerton,” you responded proudly.

Benedict beamed at you as he offered his arm to you, and you began to walk off to the side of the dance floor together after you took it. “Perfect — with your advice and my charm, I am sure we can muddle through this courtship together.”

"Certainly," you nodded with a smile of your own. “As long as we are together.”

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict x reader #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fluff #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fluff #sadie writes

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remedyturtles · 16 days

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20 Questions For Fic Writers

thank u for the tag @kiaxet 🥺

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

60 including anonymous works

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

816,928

3. What fandoms do you write for?

at the moment it’s all turtles all the time. i’ve written for so very many previously

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

winner is little kid with a big death wish, followed by techno fic from my dsmp days, then firefight, and then the fireworks and shore series from my life smp days

5. Do you respond to comments?

as many as i can!!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i like angsty beginning and middle but i almost always try to have a happy ending. minus my ONE mcyt fic that ends in canonical character death

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

they’re all pretty happy endings lol it would be hard to rank

8. Do you get hate on fics?

the vast majority of commenters are extremely lovely people

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

for other fandoms. not sure what ‘kind’ lol — the kind with smut haha?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i LOVE crossovers but i haven’t ever published one myself. scary to try and get two canons right at once!!!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

yes unfortunately lol

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes VERY FORTUNATELY!!! i am still so honoured by it 😭😭

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

not anything published! but i’ve noodled with writer friends in a doc or two

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

cannot believe you’d expect a person who’s been on tumblr since 2011 to pick ONE

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

urghhhhh i’ve started a couple things that are rotting in my docs but pretty much if it’s rotting then i don’t wanna finish anyway it so it doesn’t matter.

16. What are your writing strengths?

i can write a lot. whether or not it’s good is another matter lol but hey there will be a lot of it

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i can’t read what i’ve written so it makes editing hard

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

what an oddly specific question? i’d say i guess if the character doesn’t know the language then use a line like ‘she said something in x’ and if the character does know then use the words from the language

19. First fandom you wrote for?

general hospital. yes the soap opera. it explains a lot abt my story telling i think LMAO

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

the storm will take its pieces … probably the only fic i’ve ever been consistently proud of

i tag you. if you wanna do it.

#rem askbox #tag game

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yourlocaldisneyvillain · 8 months

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i would like to be in and foster an online environment in which discussions abt controversial topics can be handled civilly without ppl ganging up and sending an influx of anon hate. i think internet in general is a space where ppl love to be outraged and i want to challenge that. that's partially why i wrote this fic. i am tired of purity culture and of fandom/online hivemind. in a fandom where a lot of ppl clearly enjoy age gap ships, i say, what makes one better and more "morally correct" than another? what makes a sugar mommy au better than a college student x teacher fic? so many fics featuring dark themes are popular in this fandom (don't wanna name any names bc i don't wanna get anyone involved), but THIS is the one ppl are upset about?

i wanna ask a question -- is it possible to write a fic where ppl are NOT morally pure but still somehow manage to live and find happiness? why is it forbidden to explore those themes in fiction? when you look at ppl in real life and how weirdly their lives shape up, and how ppl are flawed and make mistakes and live unconventionally or sometimes immorally or unhealthily, doesn't that interest you? in a sense that you would like to read about it? explore what goes on in the minds of these ppl/characters?

ppl forget exploring a theme in fiction doesn't equate to condoning it in real life. each individual has to use their own best judgement when consuming a piece of fiction. i assume everyone reading my fic is an adult (as i write fics intended for adult audiences) and can form their own opinion.

i would like it if people could use their reading comprehension and critical thinking skills when reading my fiction, without me having to put up exact and specific 1826372929392 word disclaimers, so ppl's fragile feelings wouldn't get hurt. would it really be okay if i wrote in all caps before the story WEDNESDAY IS 22? you could have read the first paragraph and figured that out. i tagged it as teacher-student bc it's playing with the concept, even if they are not a student/teacher in the timeline of the story. i use implied underage sex as a tag bc in the 2nd chapter, and repeatedly throughout the story i reference larissa and morticia's relationship, that has occurred when they were underage. i mention that they engaged in sex. it is only mentioned, and not explicitly described. do you need me to write all of that out under the title in order not to send anon hate and clutch your pearls in disgust? or can you just read the story and decide if it's for you or not?

i implore you to read all of my works as a story, without attaching a moral judgement to characters' actions. if and when you do attach a moral judgement and form an opinion, pls remember those are fictional characters, and i am an author exploring certain themes bc i can and it interests me to do so. i want to write unconventional stories, controversial stories, romantic stories, funny stories, horror stories, i want to explore everything. everybody who reads is invited to look at them as a piece of fiction they can enjoy or not enjoy, and nothing more. i hope to take you on a journey that leaves you with something to remember, good or bad, but impactful.

from now on, i will probably write longer works and venture into darker themes (next thing i'm planning is murder mystery/thriller). there will still be fluffy pieces, but i just want to push myself out of my comfort zone. i would like to associate with fandom ppl who are open-minded and can read a piece of fiction without going ballistic. if you look at things black and white, you likely won't like my fiction -- and that's okay.

however, if for any reason you want to send me hate, you will absolutely be blocked. i am a person, and i do not deserve insults and rudeness in my inbox. it's easy to feel empowered and feel like you're fighting for A Cause (TM) and attach the Bad Guy etiquette to a single person. that can feel like you're solving something. esp when ppl accuse me of promoting actual p3dophilia -- that's a cause everyone can get behind. banish the evil p3do apologist!

i am a victim of child sexual abuse, that went on all throughout my formative years, and into my adult age, simply because i thought that's how it must be. that experience has scarred me beyond belief. i don't want to share the details. it's not smth i'm sharing for pity points, nor do i need anyone's sympathy. however, it is an experience that has shaped who i am, and perhaps for that reason, combined with other things, is why i'm drawn to certain themes in fiction. i don't owe anybody an explanation as to why i choose certain topics, but since there have been idiots in my inbox who have accused me of harming victims of minor sexual abuse, i feel compelled to say something. fuck you for using a group of suffering ppl to support your own flimsy arguments born out of puritanism and inability to cope with heavy themes in fiction.

you are absolutely welcome to CIVILLY discuss your opinions about the fic with me -- off anon, exclusively. but i know nobody will, bc this isn't about the actual contents of my fic, this is about the delicious morally righteous thrill of a witch hunt.

enjoy the fic. i will post next wednesday.

#personal #i will produce my own garbage and also consume it

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bucksangel · 2 years

Text

welcome! here, you'll find all of my fics! you're always welcome to send me ideas that I could write about as well as ask questions abt my fics!

sit back, relax, and happy reading ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　tip jar　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

.𖥔 ๋ .•⋆. 𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 .⋆•. ๋𖥔.

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜

Beneath The Milky Twilight - sugarbaby!au (complete) ✿ ☁︎ ❧ ✩

Summary: Being Mr. Barnes’ personal assistant has been tough, balancing a full time job while taking care of your younger brothers has you running yourself thin. Then, things take a sharp turn after a dinner with your boss when you disclose your financial situation

General Warnings: fluff, angst, smut (each part will have specific warnings), a lil bit of jealousy, sugarbaby arrangement

word count: 32.9k

𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜

Just One More

Summary: Despite things needing to get done, it's hard to force yourself out of bed right when you wake up. Especially with a certain super-soldier demanding kisses in return for letting you leave his embrace.

General Warnings: fluff, kissing

Word Count: 828

𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜

don’t worry, darling

summary: even though bucky is mostly healed, that doesn’t mean his nightmares go away. and a particular grueling mission brings back memories he’d rather forget

warnings: angsttttt, hella fluff at the end though, hurt/comfort, talk of bucky’s trauma and abuse, brief mentions of murder of a hydra agent (he deserves it), nightmares, reader is here to love and comfort bucky, also civil war and everything after didn’t happen and they all live at the tower and everything is fine bc i said so

word count: 3.3k

♡

Temptation ☁︎ ❧ 𖤐

summary: “I found some land in upstate New York, it’s a quiet, woodsy area, with no neighbors for at least three miles. And when I saw her I knew I needed to go through with it. So I bought the property and I’ve been building the cabin myself, I just need a few more weeks to finish it and then I can bring her there with me.” or - bucky’s trying to get his life back in order, but everything changes when he sees you. He’s going to make you his, whether you like it or not.

warnings: 18+ only, kidnapping, stalking, bucky is weird and obsessed and full on delulu but not violent, implied abuse/threatening abuse (from steve), stockholm syndrome, solo masturbation, panty sniffing, mental manipulation, bucky’s trauma is brought up, steve makes an appearance and is weird and Not Nice At All, brief mention of arson for like one sentence, don’t read if any of these warnings trigger you

word count: 12.5k

♡

The Blossom Tree Above ✿ ☁︎ ❧

Summary: Then, almost in slow motion, Bucky lifts his head, and he’s suddenly closer than he’s ever been. His face is mere inches from yours, he licks his lips and releases your hand from his face to place his on your thigh. Bucky’s face grows closer to yours, both of you breathing heavily as you prepare for what you’ve wanted ever since Bucky came to the tower. And just as you’re gaining the courage to kiss him first, a loud - Bang! Bang! Bang!

Warnings: sm-ut, 18+ only, tad bit of self-deprecation on Bucky's part, mild angst, mention of de-ath, or-al (f and m receiving), no actual penetration tho, so much fluff, sam and sarah are good bros, Bucky deserves happiness and he gets it finally, mild jealousy, pet names (plum, baby, sunshine (sam says this platonically))

Word Count: 8.3k

♡

Only An Illusion ❧

Summary: from the moment bucky laid eyes on you he knew you were the one for him. your sparkling eyes and shy smile coupled with your visible innocence awakens something primal in him, he needs to claim, take, ruin. the only thing standing in the way of that happening is the fact that you’re very much not single. and the lucky man to be with you? bucky’s son - a little shit with no idea how to treat a lady, much less care for a pure thing like yourself. but that’s okay because bucky is going to do anything it takes to make you his. Anything.

General Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mild manipulation, minor angst, fluff (if you could even call it that), bucky is a bit of a creep but it’s fine, fingering, oral (f receiving), allusions to penetrative sex, daddy kink, bucky babying reader, reader is hella naive, hints of little!reader

Word Count: 5.7k

♡

All You Want, the Stars and the Sun ᰔᩚ ☁︎ ✿ ✩

summary: “Lie to me.” The request is simple, softly spoken into your hair while his lips press themselves to the top of your head. There’s a long pause as you gather yourself enough to push through the inevitable, heart turning heavier with each silent second that passes. “Please.” And, fuck. The quiver in his voice does nothing to hide the clear pain in his soul, and a small teardrop slides down his cheek as you whisper softly. “I love you, Bucky.”

general warnings: 18+, angst, angst, and a little more angst, fluffy bits here and there, cheating (reader cheating on omc), unrequited love (not really), some crying and self-loathing, kinda toxic!reader???, allusions to smut, bucky needs a hug, modern!au, fluffy ending bc angsty endings hurt my heart

Word Count: 5.3k

♡

Do Not Fall in Love ✿ ✩

Summary: after becoming roommates with a virtual stranger - that stranger being the notorious bucky barnes - navigating living with him and an onset of feelings you refuse to acknowledge is working pretty well. that is, until, he gets injured far worse than you ever imagined.

warnings: fluff, a lil bit of angst, strangers to roommates to lovers

word count: 7.8k

♡

Awake My Soul ✿❧

Summary: “I’ll never be able to tell or show you how much I am in love with you. There are not enough words in any language I know to describe how grateful I am for you for helping me, and for showing me love and care when I refused to show it to myself. But I need you to know that I’ll spend forever trying to make you feel as happy and loved as you make me.”

Warnings: almost a tiny bit of angst but it's more like bucky being a lil self-deprecating, mostly happiness and love, smut so 18+, crying during sex (it's one of my kinks, sue me), that's all I think?

word count: 5.1k

♡

Give Me a Minute ✿ ☁︎

Summary: Meeting your boyfriends friends is always hard, especially when you're a young woman dating a 100 year old super soldier.

Warnings: everyone is alive and lives in the tower because i said so!au fluff, tension and angst interspersed, insecure bucky, insecure reader, the team (mainly tony, sam, and steve) talking negatively about reader behind her back/to bucky, bucky defending reader, fluffy ending, bucky likes new girl (the show), natasha is a good bro

word count: 3.9k

♡

Fall Leaves ✿ ᰔᩚ

Summary: After years of pining after Bucky, you're finally going on your first date with him. But will the scars from your past prevent you from moving forward?

warnings: none but absolute fluff and love, the reader being insecure, bucky having bde, lil bit of kissing and suggestive ending

word count: 2k

♡

The Spark ✿ ☁︎

Summary: James Barnes, the bane of your existence, the man you swore to stay away from. Though his naturally good looks and charming smile may fool many of the women around you, you refuse to fall into his trap. It gets harder to do with every interaction you have with him, and when Bucky gets taken by Hydra, you're forced to face your feelings or risk losing him forever.

Warnings: lil bit o' angst, fluff, 1940's!au, the reader is a nurse during the war, mentions of captivity, mentions of dead people/war talk, happy ending

Word Count: 6.5k

♡

Until We Meet Again ✿ ☁︎ ✩ ᰔᩚ

Summary: The Blip changed everything and everyone. With Bucky now gone, and a toddler to raise, you find yourself leaning on Steve for support, as he does with you. What happens when, five years later, Bucky returns to find his best friend and best girl raising a kid? His kid.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, passing mentions of death, grieving, a whole lot of angst to start off with, but then a whole lot of fluff, and then a sprinkle of more angst and then some more fluff, angst with a happy ending, mentions of smutty times

Word Count: 7k

♡

Good For You ✿ ✩ ᰔᩚ

Summary: Bucky Barnes, feared assassin and badass on the field, meets you, Natasha’s friend and tattoo artist. Suddenly he’s become shy, unable to merely function from the moment he sees you. But as long as you keep talking to him like that, he’d make a fool of himself over and over just to have your undivided attention.

Warnings: fluffffff out the ass, nervous/shy!bucky, bucky is bisexual because I say so, lil bit of subby!bucky, allusions to smutty times at the end, maybe a bit rushed?? idk please lmk, reader is cocky because Bucky is clearly in love and it’s precious, maybe a part 2 with an actual date and smutty times??

Word Count: 4k

♡

Delicate ❧

Summary: Bucky Barnes, known as the ‘king of New York’, is ruthless and powerful, running everything with an iron fist. He has no weaknesses, other than you. You’re his world, his soulmate, his angel, and he’d do anything and everything to keep you safe. What John Walker, an up-and-coming mobster with irrational tendencies, doesn’t understand, is that you’ll do the same for Bucky.

Warnings: sexy times so 18+ i stg, smut smut smut, kinda femdom!reader and sub!bucky, use of pet names (good boy, angel), dry-humping, unprotected p in v sex (I STG don’t have sex with someone without being in a committed relationship and have been tested), reader is a total badass, minor/off screen character deaths, misogyny towards reader, john walker makes an appearance but not for long, mild plot but mostly porn

Word Count: 2.6k

.𖥔 ๋ .•⋆. 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 .⋆•. ๋𖥔.

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜

Milk and Honey - poly alpha!stucky x omega!reader au ✿ ❧

Summary: Though Steve and Bucky are both alpha's, their bond and love for each other transcends designation. However, that doesn't mean they haven't thought of courting an omega, bringing in another person to their relationship. After several failed attempts with other omegas, they seem to meet the perfect one in the form of a shy artist.

or - alphas bucky and steve decide to bring in an omega into their relationship.

General Warnings: fluff out the asssss, reader is a little awkward, there are bits where it's just steve and bucky, 18+, will add more warnings as I upload

Word Count: ongoing

𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜

You Taste Like Suburbia - poly mafia!stucky x reader

Summary: Your lousy boyfriend John Walker owes quite a bit of money to some pretty shady people. And since he doesn’t have the means to pay, he’s brought you along to a negotiation to meet them - and hopefully entice them into accepting a different form of payment.

word count: 6.4k

warnings: 18+, smut, dub-con kind of, a tiny bit of stalking/dark behavior (it’s only hinted at), voyeurism i guess?, vaginal fingering, oral (f & m receiving), threesome, poly relationship, petnames (princess, kitten, beautiful), daddy kink, sir kink, unprotected p in v, a little bit of misogyny (not from stucky), not john walker friendly, mentioned verbal abuse, mention of murder (you have to squint and turn your head 90 degrees)

.𖥔 ๋ .•⋆. 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 .⋆•. ๋𖥔.

𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜

Come Morning Light ✿ ☁︎

Summary: Bucky is still healing, and Steve, ever the good husband, will be there to support him every step of the way.

Warnings: a bit of angst, but happy/hopeful ending, a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic, bucky is sad but steve is here to make it better, mentions of depression, anxiety, and ptsd, fluffy bits towards the end

Word Count: 2.1k

#my writing #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #my masterlist #stucky imagine #stucky x reader imagine #stucky x reader

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lostarchivesoforpheus · 10 months

Note

Hey! I read some of your work and I loved it! When I saw your event, I knew I just had to try it! Especially with one of my favorite cookies!

I'd like...prompt 10 with affogato cookie please? I know he likes sweets so I thought it would fit him really well!

Sweet Tooth

affogato cookie x gn reader

prompt: baking sweets & pastries

warnings: physical touch, mentions of food, reader is a menace (affectionately), possibly ooc(?? idk i finished this at 1 am)

"Darling, I love you with all my heart, but just where do you plan on taking me at 1 in the morning?"

A confused and groggy Affogato Cookie followed closely behind a for some reason very awake and bubbly you, not understanding why you decided to drag him out of bed in the middle of the night. Though, he figured you probably wouldn't be answering his question, as all you said in response was, "It's important!" before continuing to pull him down the hall.

A few minutes later, the two of you found yourselves in the kitchen. Affogato gave you a confused look. "Why-" "We're baking midnight snacks and you can't say no!" You quickly cut him off before you rushed to grab the necessary supplies to make some sweet treats.

"Okay, but why-" "I know you like sweets, and I'm hungry, so it's a win-win! Now help me bake these!" Once again cutting him off, you didn't give him any time to respond before dragging him to the mixing bowl and telling him what to do.

After about an hour, the two of you were finally able to take the snacks out of the oven and properly enjoy eating them. "Here, you can have the first one!" You offered, swiftly placing one of the treats in Affogato Cookie's hands. He looked at you for a moment before taking a bite.

The moment he tasted it, his expression lit up. "Oh wow," he spoke between bites, "It's almost hard to believe we made something so sweet! This is absolutely delicious, dear." You gave him a cheeky grin, "Of course it tastes good! We put our hearts into it, after all!"

He couldn't help but smile at your cheesy statement.

To him, your words tasted sweeter than any snacks he's ever had.

a/n: affogato cookie my beloved,,, ew i hate how i ended this but i ran out of ideas,,, anYWAY IM SORRY I RANDOMLY VANISHED,,, IVE BEEN TRYING TO WRITE FIC & DRAW ARTFIGHT SO I GOT BURNT OUT FAST,, ALSO MY GRANDMA WENT TO THE HOSPITAL TWICE SO YOU CAN GUESS HOW I FELT ABT THAT,,,, on the plus side tho ive been getting into a new game recently and i plan on opening requests for it/putting it on my masterlist after the event is over!! yay,,, for now tho i will be trying to get back to writing and posting event stuff as fast as i can without overexerting myself :,,)) btw sorry for any decrease in quality that might be found in this fic and the next few works, im still recovering from burnout so yeah,,, bye for now

thanks for stopping by!

wanna submit a request? see my requesting rules here!

taglist:

wanna be tagged? lemme know!

#fishbubble writes #fanfic #fanfic author #fanfiction #fanfiction author #x reader #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk x reader #affogato cookie #affogato cookie x reader #affogato x reader #crk affogato #affogato crk #affogato cookie run #cookie run affogato #₊˚⊹꒷ events in the aquarium: starlit sanctuary

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vivalarevolution · 1 year

Text

𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓐 𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓸𝓯 𝓜𝓮

Lo’ak x Human Reader

Request: „Hey gurl, absolutely love love ur work ,like ur literally flawless. If u r still taking requests could u plz make a Lo’ak x fem reader 18+ fic (cause there aren’t any which u’ve made) where he has like a wet dream abt her at night and sneaks away at night to masturbate but she catches him in the act and decides to give him a bit of oral this is too crazy‟

A/N: Request written by anon. Thank you for your sweet words as well as your request, I was dying to write something for Lo'ak so I'm grateful for your suggestion.

I hope that all of you will like this and will have fun while reading.

Don't be surprised if the reader can kiss etc without any problems. I think during the break they had to come up with an alternative to the masks that were worn in the first movie.

Also remember that english is not a language that I use on a daily basis, mistakes may occur.

The work contains smut , minors do not interact.

*Characters are aged up.

His mind was foggy. So many questions demanded answers.

How had he not noticed it before?

How did it even start?

How is it possible that this happened?

But he couldn't answer any of them, not while she sat between his legs, her small hands gliding over his shaft, her lips brushing the head of his member, staring at him with eyes clouded with lust.

Lo'ak simply couldn't.

He didn't move an inch, just staring at her. Her movements were strangely addictive, filling him with excitement as well as uncertainty of what would come after each touch.

His mind was still fighting, fearing it was just a dream. But this time it wasn't, no. What was happening was real and tangible.

-Y/n - he panted, looking down at her - Please don't...don't tease me - he said, suddenly his confidence vanished into thin air.

-I'm sorry, I just can't help myself - she confessed, rubbing her cheek against his manhood, kissing him here and there - You're so delicious... it's so hard to resist - she added more quietly, sucking on his head with her lips, moaning softly as she could feel his taste on her tongue.

Lo'ak tilted his head back, opening his mouth and closing his eyes.

An electrifying feeling flowed through every part of his body. From the top of his head to his fingertips. And he never wanted it to end.

The girl watched his behavior from under half-closed eyelids, trying not to fall into the ocean of pleasure herself, not when she bent the object of her desire to her will, not when she could use it however she wanted.

She treated the boy's member almost like a lollipop. Licking his shaft up and down, lips kissing his head from which pre-cum was pouring, hands gently massaging the rest of his manhood, fingertips hooking on his balls, making his thighs tremble even more, and moans from his mouth were cut off by gasping for air.

-Are you close, Lo'ak? - Y/n asked, looking at him with curious eyes, as if the question wasn't about such a sinful thing.

-Yes ... yes - he replied, trying to control his voice as much as he could, unsuccessfully - Fuck...Y/n - he panted, his hand wandering towards her face.

Girl buried her cheek in his large hand, taking him almost halfway, still maintaining eye contact with him, driving him crazy.

Her mouth was so warm and wet inside that Lo'ak thought he would explode. The knot in his abdomen was getting tighter by the minute, and his head was getting more and more foggy.

His fingers glided lazily over the young woman's head, involuntarily tangling them in her hair, gently tugging at her curls, controlling her movements, lowering her lower and lower, unable to stop himself. He could see tears welling up in her eyes and how she, helplessly, could only let the saliva drip from her mouth onto her chin and neck, yet she welcomed him so willingly, so desperately, as if she needed it, not him.

-So close...oh so close - he murmured, lifting his hips up slightly.

Y/n pulled his shaft out of her mouth and took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them, looking almost seductive.

-Where would you like to cum Lo'ak? - she asked so innocently, even though her hand was still moving along his member.

His pupils dilated even more at the question, and an uncontrollable growl escaped from his throat.

-Your mouth - he confessed after a moment, watching how she would react - Please - he added, and she only smiled sweetly.

-Whatever you want - she replied, gently kissing the dripping head of his manhood - I'll do whatever you want.

At that moment, Lo'ak did everything to refrain from checking if it wasn't a cruel dream again, but when her little hand grabbed his, connecting them together, he knew that everything was real.

She was so eager to please him, so motivated to make him orgasm. Her swollen lips moved intensely around the head of his member, the tip of her tongue hooking over it again and again, eliciting a low moan from him.

The release he was trying so hard to hold back hit him like a wave, causing dark spots to appear before his eyes.

Squeezing her hand, he growled softly as he watched as Y/n swallowed everything he had in him. But after a long moment, she broke away from his member again, not to ask, but to breathe, which made her chin adorned with a white substance that was still pouring out of his shaft.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes watery and foggy with lust, her hands were wet from the amount of liquid that had flowed onto them, and the face itself was adorned with his semen. And for Lo'ak, it might have been the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his life.

-Are you okay Y/n? I didn't hurt you, did I? - he asked, trying to catch his breath.

The girl did not answer, only smiling gently. Her hands began to roam the boy's torso, her nails scratching him slightly, causing goosebumps to appear on his body. Soon her little body lay in his arms as her lips glided over his neck, marking it with little marks in the form of bites and kisses.

-I should be the one asking - she whispered close to his ear, kissing his lobe - Did I did good? Was it like in your dreams Lo'ak? - she asked, looking into his golden eyes.

He looked at her for a moment and then joined their lips into a sweet, sensual kiss. His tongue invited itself inside her mouth, starting an erotic dance, to which she joined with joy, entangling her slender fingers between his braids.

The boy lifted her body so that her breasts were directly in front of him, attacking them almost instantly with one of his large hands, making the now young woman a moaning mess.

-In my dreams - he began, glancing at her again - You always lie limp beneath me, panting and crying with pleasure as my cum flows out of your femininity - he confessed, kissing her collarbone as he moved upward - Now I want that to be a reality too - he added, covering her with his body.

Y/N could only watch powerlessly. His words had surprisingly too much influence on her. But she did not object, she couldn't tell no to him, never. Not to him. So when she expanded her thighs, showing her trembling and wet center, she knew exactly what she unleashed.

#avatar #avatar x reader #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #avatar the way of water x reader #lo'ak #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x fem!reader #lo'ak smut #avatar fanfiction #friends to lovers #teen romance

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lucy90712 · 9 months

Note

Can u do an angst fic where pedri and (famous) reader meet in an event or smt and they get along great and he cant stop thinking abt her but one day gavi or one of his teammates brings her to a team gathering and introduces her as their gf.

"Bro what is up with you tonight?" Pablo asked taking me out of my little daydream

"Just thinking" I replied

"You have been just thinking for weeks what's going on?" He questioned

"Just this girl I met at a shoot the other week I can't get her out of my mind" I admitted

"Ooh Pedri's in love tell me more" he said

"She was just so beautiful and we really got along but she left before I could ask for her number and I found her instagram but I haven't been brave enough to actually dm her" I said

"If you really can't stop thinking about her then maybe you should just do it you either get what you want or you get closure so you can move on" Pablo advised

"Since when were you good at giving dating advice" I joked

"Don't know but I'm going to leave you to think now, Alejandro brought his girlfriend and I want to meet her apparently she's really hot" he said

That's the Pablo I'm used to. Maybe he's right though maybe I should just go for it I haven't stopped thinking about her so I need to do something and whether it ends up with us going on a date or not at least I tried. They always say there's no time like the present so I grabbed my phone out my pocket and opened Instagram and found her profile. First I looked through her stories and saw her getting ready for something and she looked so gorgeous even before she'd got ready. After looking through her story I knew I had to do it so I clicked the message button and was faced with a blank screen and a keyboard waiting for me to write something.

Hey it's Pedri we met in a shoot a few weeks ago and I thought you were really beautiful and was wondering if you'd like to go on a date

No.

Hey I think you're really beautiful would you want to go out for coffee some time

Definitely not.

Ok this is harder than I thought. Nothing sounds quite right I either seem weird for just stalking her account or I seem strange for waiting weeks to talk to her. Maybe I just shouldn't do it I had my chance and now it's gone, if things were meant to be then at some point we will see each other again and I am do things the right way but until then I think I blew my chance. It won't be easy to forget about her as I've never fallen for someone this hard before but I will have to find a way or gather the courage to actually dm her as for right now I can't bring myself to do it. For a few minutes I sat feeling sorry for myself before I decided to get up an enjoy myself as we are supposed to be celebrating the end of the season not moping around like I have been the last few weeks.

I remembered what Pablo said and although I shouldn't be I am definitely curious about Ale's girlfriend. Some of the guys have already met her and they are always teasing Ale about how's she's out of his league so I feel like I have to know for myself. Plus it would be rude if everyone else introduced themselves and I didn't so I have to go and say hi right. It was quite clear where they were as there was pretty much everyone was stood in one place so I headed in that direction. That's when I saw her and I nearly fainted. I recognised her straight away I could never forget that smile but this time it hurt to see her smiling as it was someone else making her smile not me. For a second I thought that she might have just been invited here for some other reason like maybe she was friends with one of the guys.

That hope was soon crushed as I saw Ale with his arm around her waist and then it was completely shattered when I saw him press a kiss to her cheek. Seeing them together really pieced everything together and made some things make more sense. Suddenly I remember someone saying that Ale's girlfriend was a model and when I went to y/n's Instagram he was already following her which at the time I didn't think about but now it makes so much sense. I can't believe I ever thought I would have a chance with her let alone be delusional enough to think that she liked me. I was sure that she was flirting with me during our shoot together but now I think she was probably just being nice and trying to be professional.

Seeing them together really hurt as for the first time I really liked a girl and was willing to enter a proper relationship but of course someone had to get to her first I mean who wouldn't want someone as gorgeous as her. As much as it pained me I still forced myself to go over and say hi as this won't be the only time I see her around so I'm going to have to get used to her being with someone else so why not start now. I made my way over and stood next to Pablo hoping to maybe slip under the radar a bit but she caught my eye right away and smiled before coming closer to talk to me.

"Hey what are the chances of us meeting again so soon" she laughed

"I know I didn't think we'd ever meet again" I said

"Hey amor I see you've met Pedri" Ale said

"Yeah we actually met a few weeks ago on a shoot so it's nice to see a familiar face among all these strangers" she said

"Thats so funny but people always say it's a small world" Ale says

"It really is" I said trying not to give away how upset I really am

"Come on princesa I want you to meet lewa" Ale said taking y/n out of my sight

Once they left it really hit me that I'm going to be seeing a lot more of y/n which a few hours ago I would've loved but now I can't stand the idea of. I don't think I can take seeing another guy loving on her even if he's my friend in fact I think that makes it worse. I want nothing more than for that to be me with my arms around her waist, kissing her and introducing her to my friends as my girlfriend but alas it's not meant to be that way. It's a hard pill to swallow but I'm going to have to accept the fact that she's not going to be mine. She's looks so happy with Ale and I'm sure that he treats her the way she deserves and I can't be the one to ruin that for them.

All of this is a lot to take in so to give myself time to think I took myself away to sit on my own again. My peace lasted less than a minute though as out of the corner of my eye I saw someone sit across from me as I had my head in my hands. It only took a few seconds for me to realise that it was Pablo and as we talked earlier I thought maybe he'd be able to distract me so I looked up.

"Hey man" I said

"Is Ale's girl the one you were talking about earlier?" He asked

"What?" I questioned not knowing how he would know that

"Well I overheard some of your conversation and she said she met you already at a shoot a few weeks ago and you mentioned that's how you met this girl you really liked and now you're here seemingly upset so I put the pieces together and by your reaction I'm guessing I'm right" he explained

"Yes y/n's the girl" I admitted

"Oh that's gotta hurt" Pablo remarked

"Yeah tell me about it" I said

"I know it hurts now but just think that it wasn't meant to be between the two of you so at some point you will meet a girl who's absolutely perfect for you and years down the line this whole situation will feel so insignificant when the four of you are hanging out together" he said

"How come you are full of good advice tonight" I quipped

"I've always been good with advice you just never ask me or never listen" he joked

"Thanks man" I said

"It's alright plus if it makes you feel better those two are made for each other they are so weird and like all the same strange things" Pablo said

"That makes me feel a little better" I said

He patted my back and then left me alone as I watched everyone still talking and laughing including y/n but this time I didn't feel quite as bad as Pablo's right one day I'll find someone who I get on with as well as Ale and y/n. They deserve to be happy and so do I and the only way that can happen is if I get over y/n and find someone who actually loves me.

#pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri imagines #pedri gonzalez imagines #pedri imagine #pedri

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soleilnomoon · 1 year

Note

Hi again! Still absolutely adore your Kid fic from your last event 💜 Never got around to asking for a Sanji one, so here I am again😅 But seriously, congrats on over 550 followers!! Love seeing your blog grow, cause you’re really talented and deserve them all and legit can’t wait til you hit 1k+ 🥰

For the event order, may I please ask for a #1 with my boi Sanji, with anmitsu, konpeito, and keylime pie and with honey, please? 🥹 i hate this but need some sanji angst 😭

I also dunno if these three would work particularly well together for a prompt, so you can choose whatever! just really feeling angst and sanji rn and maybe comfort if you’d like 🥰

Thank you for all your works you’ve done so far 💜💜

hiiii omg haha i loved that fic fr (i'm obsessed w that man!!!) also ily for requesting sanji i don't write him nearly enough 🥰️ but thank you sm!! 😭 making me all soft and i am so so sorry this took forever, as u know i am so slow but!!! i had fun tormenting sanji w the angst ngl 💓💓💓💓 also those were great choices for the prompt, i wanted to write more but it would've been 8k words before i finished and who has time for that (i do, but listen... that's besides the point) ✨

2k words, fem reader (honestly gn too now that i think abt it), sfw (SHOCKING i know), 18+ mdni, a lil bit suggestive but nothing wild, angst angst angst city babey, fluff if you squint, also i gave u comfort bc u deserve it bb 💗(and sanji does too); feat. sanji being in denial forever and ever, mutual pining, fake unrequited love, reader is determined and sanji is a coward; also i made myself sad writing this but a good sad bc sanji deserves happiness and i'll fight oda if he doesn't get it i s2g... (if u see grammar mistakes/spelling errors... no u didn't 💗)

“loving each other began this way: threading / loneliness into loneliness / patiently, our hands trembling and precise.” — yehuda amichai

STEP 01:

what does it take to kill a soul? —

a question that’s posed unironically, without a hint of remorse or tact, the words precise and venomous, slicing through the thick veneer that he’s carefully crafted. he’s never been able to answer that question — not at six years old, not twelve or fifteen, and not at twenty-one. his siblings took pleasure in taunting him with seemingly philosophical questions, ones that clamped down onto his thoughts with heavy shackles.

even after he’s extracted himself from that life, he can’t scrub those memories from his mind — no matter how hard he tries. they sit, still raw and bloody, giving rise to unpleasant emotions that make his stomach churn from so many things left unsaid. he never set out to be a pirate, but piracy has given him the sort of freedom that he could only wish for as a child.

it’s with tender hands, with nimble yet graceful fingers, and with a fastidiousness that puts him in a category of his own, that he creates and creates and creates —

he’s told he’s an artist, which only pushes him to work harder, to be better. and when he asks himself why, he doesn’t have an answer. or, rather, the answer he does have only serves as a punishing reminder that he’ll never be good enough. no matter how many times his crew mates thank him — their emphatic, genuine praise a soft, warm breeze against his heart, gentle caresses that he commits to memory — despair still manages to infiltrate, a darkness choking out what little light he has left inside of him.

STEP 02:

how far are you willing to go to reach the truth? —

when you join the crew, he’s unnerved by your presence, which is wholly unlike him. usually, he’s able to put on his façade of the flirtatious cook, one that’s jovial and sociable, that lives to serve and please those around him. his first conversation with you ends in disaster; he spills the drink he tried to pour for you, despite your insistence that you are perfectly capable of pouring your own drink — and he knows it’s not out of malice, but it cuts into him all the same.

he tries again and again, bringing you little treats that you only agree to eating if he sits and eats with you; confusion eats away at his mind, and when he opens his mouth to decline, you pat the seat next to you and he acquiesces. he sits stiffly, at first, unsure of why he always feels on edge around you — an irritating need to impress you in a way he’s never wanted to for others grows stronger by the day.

you think it’s cute that he always seems flustered around you — that he stumbles over his words, refuses to hold eye contact with you for longer than thirty seconds — you also think it’s cute that the false bravado that he puts on for the world, diminishes immediately the second you come close to him. if he’s skittish, it’s because you always catch him staring at you; despite his quick reflexes, his reactions around you are slow but pure — childish, almost.

lately he’s clumsier and scatterbrained, nearly burning dinner when you decide to keep him company. you lean against the countertop, a teasing smile on your face — the same one that that caused him to bump his forehead against the cabinet door earlier — as you prattle on about a dream you had. he can barely keep up, his eyes drifting from the skillet to your face, gliding around the curve of your cheek, dipping lower in a slow descent along your neck.

he blinks repeatedly when he reaches your clavicle, stunned at his restraint; and it’s only when you call his name loudly that he realizes he’s left the heat on for too long.

“are you okay?” you ask when you see that he’s fussing over how best to save the dish, mouth moving as he quietly mutters to himself. he barely registers your voice, as an insidious one whispers harshly into his ears about his perpetual incompetence and lack of talent.

you can see that he’s retreated even further into his mind, a feat that also leaves you frustrated. you want to shake him but refrain and grab his hand instead. he snaps out of whatever stupor that held him captive just moments ago, lips parting as he sighs softly before glancing down at you.

“thank you.”

the words are quiet, but impactful, as he didn’t think he’d be able to get them out. you let go of his hand too soon, but he doesn’t say anything else, choosing to focus on cooking than embarrassing himself again in front of you.

you take his silence as a silent dismissal, but you don’t fight him on it — it’s bitter, that sort of rejection, and you swallow back your argument with great difficulty.

STEP 03:

what’s the difference between cowardice and self-preservation? —

frustration bubbles underneath his skin when he can’t find where he placed his lighter; he runs a hand through his hair and tugs on impulse, accidentally ripping a few strands from his scalp. they swirl and tumble onto the ground, pathetic in a way — just like me, but he never really says that out loud. he doesn’t hear your footsteps, although you did your best to remain as quiet as possible.

a cigarette sits in between his lips, and he has half a mind to toss it over the railing of the ship, but a warmth suddenly appears in front of him in the form of a flame. you found his lighter on the floor earlier and meant to give it to him, but every time you got closer, he found every excuse to leave. you don’t realize the impact you have on him — not really, anyway — because he’s genuinely surprised that you can’t hear the heavy beats of his heart that grow more intolerable the longer he hangs around you.

always afraid of being found out, he opts to keep his distance. it’s easier this way, he tells himself, better. but he doesn’t quite believe that; the evidence is plain as day when his tongue feels like its grown three sizes in the span of seconds, where his words get lost and forgotten. it’s all your fault, he reasons; you who insists on talking candidly with him, who insists on listening to him ramble about his dreams, who absolutely insists on stubbornly tearing down his walls, steadily chipping away without a care in the world. he looks at you as if you are the source of all his problems, but he also looks at you as if you’re the solution.

the intensity behind his stare makes your hands tremble slightly, it’s a miracle you’ve managed to keep yourself composed for this long. you light the end of his cigarette with ease, as if you’ve done this for him hundreds of times —and place the lighter into his pants pocket afterwards. if he wasn’t so used to you getting in his personal space all the time, he’d retreat immediately. the proximity is almost too much for him, but he doesn’t step back; you take that as a good sign and keep him company for a few minutes.

you don’t care for the smell of smoke, but on him it smells good. you almost tell him that, but instead bite down on your lip and keep your comment at bay, nerves getting the best of you as you nearly choke on the possibility that your feelings won’t be reciprocated.

another time, maybe. cheeks flushed, you turn your face to look elsewhere. although, you wonder if there ever will be another time. with him, you never know.

he’s still trying to figure you out and why he feels a different sort of calm around you; it’s alarming and new, drumming up an irrational fear within him. he doesn’t think he’s deserving of your attention or affection, and he’s convinced himself that you don’t harbor any romantic feelings for him. and why would you?

one by one, his thoughts pummel into him, acerbic and overwhelming. he exhales a sliver of smoke and puts the cigarette out. he gives you a quick, apologetic look before telling you goodnight, the smile on his face is melancholic and barely existent. you don’t dare say a word, keep your lips pressed together stubbornly; exasperated and dejected, you don’t know what’s worse — his inability to lower his guard around you for longer than ten minutes, or your inability to stop yourself from trying to carve pieces of yourself to give to him.

maybe if you helped him fill the gaping holes in his heart, he’d truly understand how you feel.

STEP 04:

if you had to do it all over again, would you do anything differently? —

sleep evades you after that night, and the night after that, and so forth; it gets so bad that you’re yawning in the middle of the day, falling asleep before you can have a cup of coffee or tea. this does not go unnoticed by the others, and after talking with nami, you feel less out of your element and finally can see the parts of sanji that he wants to keep hidden. her advice is simple: approach slowly and with intent; corner him and don’t let him escape.

you bide your time, full confident that you can find a moment to sit down with him and talk this all out. it doesn’t come easy, but franky mysteriously swaps sanji for the night’s watch — something that should strike you as odd, but it’s a small opening that you take without thinking as you hurriedly climb up to the crow’s nest with a renewed sort of energy.

even with his eyes closed, as he sits lazily on the bench with head tilted back against the wall, he knows it’s you.

“go back to bed,” he says firmly, refusing to look at you.

your stubbornness, unfortunately, wins out. “i’m staying.” at that he sits up, his attention completely on you as his eyes widen at your words. he wants to ask you why, but cowardice wins out — again. as his features soften, a flush crawls along his face, lightly painting his cheeks pink. he closes his eyes again, tries to steady his breathing as he counts backwards, only for his efforts to be obliterated with ease the moment you sit next to him.

as your thigh presses against his, you take his hand and on impulse you trace your fingertip along the lines on his palm. he watches you with a morbid fascination that scares him; but then you start to say things like, “you will live a very long life,” and “you are courageous, and you have a big heart.”

a small part of him wants to pull his hand away, so you won’t say anything else — but he remains put, so still that you almost think he’s stopped breathing. your voice is sweet and disarming, even when you carry on this charade of reading his palm. a belated realization hits him forcefully, making him blink several times; it dawns on him that you’ve always been so kind and gentle with him, even when you teased him. he’s spent all this time overthinking and hiding behind his past, that it never occurred to him that he could have simply let you in. you’ve never given him reason to believe that you’d betray or harm him intentionally.

he takes a deep breath, voice a little uneven, “i—”

you lean in close, adoration dripping onto your words as you interrupt him. “hey, have i told you?” the question glides along his skin, the words seeping into him as you continue, the lilt in your voice a honeyed, melodic spell. “you remind me of starlight and the mysteries of space.” your lips brush against his when you tell him that, and a warmth settles into the middle of his chest, makes it hard to focus. he doesn’t think when he curls his fingers around yours and doesn’t think when heleans down to kiss you — tender yet electrifying all the same.

the move disarms you in a way that doesn’t quite make sense to you, so you simply hum in approval and lean your head against his shoulder. a comfortable silence settles around you both, but you don’t mind that at all; it’s nice, not having to tip-toe around him anymore, and the demons that plagued him for so long don’t seem so intimidating with you by his side.

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