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saerins · 6 months

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𝐒𝐀𝐄 // 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓

+ sae x f!reader | wc 5k | content: angst to fluff, breakups, exbf!sae, exes to lovers

notes: this is the alternate ending to conversations ! (requested by one of my anons) i’m so sorry this took so long !!! and i’m 100% sure you did not expect me to write anything this long but i’m sorry my hand slipped >_< again … i’m super rusty but i hope you guys still like this ^_^

summary: sae’s willing to throw everything else away to prove that out of everything in his life, you’re the one sure thing he needs. problem is, will you accept him after what he’s done?

he’s sorry.

he repeats it in his head, over and over again, his fingers almost numb from repeatedly pressing the call button on your number—over and over and over again.

sorry, sorry, sorry.

it’s no use, he knows. it’s why he’s here—why he’s taking a flight, bare-handed, back to japan, back to home, back to you.

“please switch off your phone, sir,” the flight attendant says politely, dutily, as the plane starts to move.

begrudgingly, he resigns, but the moment he starts hearing your voicemail message play, he sighs, speaking into the receiver.

“look, i know i fucked up and it was stupid of me to keep it from you. i’m sorry, okay? and i know you don’t want to speak to me right now but i can’t just sit around and do nothing. i love you, so i’m coming back home, and we’ll talk, and then… i promise you, nothing like this will happen again.”

yes, because he’ll make sure of that. he’ll make sure he doesn’t make decisions like a stupid teenage boy and he’ll make sure to trust you at every turn instead of trying to hide anything from you because you’re right. never in the course of your relationship did you ever doubt sae.

which is a feat. because given his profession and status, any number of girls would’ve been distrusting had they been in your position. not that sae knows, what can he say he knows about girls? nothing, apparently. after today, that much is sure.

as he turns his phone on aeroplane mode, he throws his head back and looks out of the plane window. less than a day till he’ll be there to see you in person. he’s not sure if you’re going to even want to see him, but he’ll try. you deserve that much, at least.

in his head, the same words repeat over and over again.

i’m sorry.

i love you.

you’re all i ever want.

by the time sae’s plane touches down, it’s night time in japan, close to midnight. you should be resting, probably tired out from crying; he can imagine, because stupid as he may be, he can at least say he knows you this much.

your words can be hard, cold, cruel, but you never are. you’re all soft inside, and you’d rather face your emotions alone than let anyone know how you feel. at least, when those emotions concern sae. you’ll keep them to yourself and keep crying, day after day, until you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore.

passport in one hand, his phone in another, he whisks off toward the taxi stand, mind in a mess because his phone’s now ringing with messages from everyone that isn’t you, probably concerning his absence from the last match of the tournament.

fuck the final match.

you probably thought he’ll play anyway. that he’ll play the match, and only afterwards would he attempt things further with you.

funnily enough, that’s what sae used to think too. before any of this happened. never in his life did he think he’d sooner rather sabotage his own career than lose you. it’s laughable, really, how much he’s so afraid of losing you that it clouds his judgement.

he should’ve been honest with you from the start instead of letting you find out on your own. it was that easy.

“could you step on it, please?” sae sighs, irritated at everything keeping him from you; the distance, the traffic, the stupidity.

the taxi driver narrows his gaze at sae through the rear view mirror, clearly annoyed. “i’d rather not get a ticket,” he replies monotonously, and sae sees that he’s driving at the speed limit. “wouldn’t want to get into an accident, would you?”

well, if he did, that would put a real hamper in his plans, so sae just shuts up and switches off his phone. none of them are you anyway. there’s no point.

as he stares out the window at the now-quiet city, he finds that, for the first time, he’s afraid of losing everything.

mira [7.28pm]: make sure you get enough rest! bought some soup for you in case you haven’t eaten :)

you look at the time now—12.14am. fuck, did you really sleep the entire day away?

the sliver of moonlight that shines through your blinds is all you see next to the pitter patter of the heavy rain against your window. it’s pathetic, really, for you to take a day off just because of that argument (if you can really call it that) the night before. you couldn’t bring yourself to even watch his game like you’d promised him you always would, once upon a time.

something tells you that he should expect that, though. even without watching his game, you know they’d win. sae has always been magical like that, being the playmaker he is. you imagine he’s probably with his team now, celebrating the win. or are they asleep right now? you never could get used to the time difference. it’s too much of a headache.

aside from mira, you see a voicemail message in your inbox. from sae. it makes your heart skip a beat. are you even ready to hear him and whatever he has to say? it’s why you’d been avoiding him since yesterday—you’re afraid you’re just going to crumble and forgive and get taken advantage of. it threatens to spin the same old story you’ve always known.

you click on it anyway.

will it though? how much can you trust his words after he already failed once? it makes you think twice, no matter how badly you want to forgive him because you do believe him. it’s most likely nothing, and what he said is most likely true, but it makes you upset that he thought of hiding such a thing from you.

just as you toss your phone aside, you hear a series of urgent knocks on your door, the thunder ruthless outside. slowly, you get up, dragging your feet against the hardwood floors and flinching a little as you hear how loud the banging is. you’re half afraid and half agitated, halfway between hiding yourself under the covers and threatening to kill whoever it is outside.

but then you swing the door open and you’re met with that pair of teal eyes you’ve always loved, his bangs matted against his face as he pants, the rainwater drenching him from head to toe.

“y/n,” he calls out, as though it’s been ages since he last heard from you. it’s only been a day, but it’s enough to make sae feel as though it’s been forever.

you’re a little shocked, your brain trying to process every single question that comes to mind.

is that really him? why isn’t he in spain? if he played the game, the timeline doesn’t add up—how did he get here so fast? is this actually a dream? holy crap it feels so real, though? why isn’t he saying anything?

“s-sae?”

you’re not even sure if you said that out loud—you’re a little too shocked to make sense of anything right now. but the moment the corner of his lips tug upward, revealing that lopsided smile you love, you know it’s real.

he’s here.

“i… came to talk,” is all he can say. he’s tired from running up the stairs. apparently tonight, everything was against him. there was an accident right at the street before the corner of your apartment, so he’d had to end the trip early and start running for it. by the time he got here, the elevators for your block were all undergoing maintenance and unusable. but fuck if twenty flights of stairs are enough to make him turn away.

you’re blinking a lot, as if you find it unbelievable that he’s here in the first place, but you nod anyway and step aside to let him in, wet clothes and all.

“how was work today?”

it’s definitely not what he came here from spain to talk about but you entertain it anyway.

“didn’t go,” you tell him, a little coldly, but you think he deserves that much, at least. “how was the game?”

“don’t know, didn’t go.”

you two are similar that way.

“why not?”

“i had other important things to do.”

“you do? pray tell.”

it’s the first time sae’s hearing you like this and he’s sure now that he never wants to make you like this ever again—going against your nature.

it’s lame, and overused, and you deserve an essay for why he shouldn’t and wouldn’t ever do this again to you but it’s sae and he’s never sure what’s good in these situations so all he can manage to say is, “i’m so sorry.”

you cross your arms as the both of you stand in your dimly-lit living room, the storm raging on outside. it’s not like you don’t know that. that aside, you’re pretty sure he’s the most sorry he’s ever been. and if you were still the same naive girl you used to be ten years ago you probably would’ve forgiven him by now.

but you’re not.

“okay, is that all?”

it’s not what you really want to say. you kind of just want this to be a dream; that picture of him and that random girl with their lips locked, that fight that you had that made you cry to sleep. you wish it was some sort of stupid nightmare that didn’t make him ruin your trust but it did.

sae, on the other hand, seems restless. he’s taken aback, not quite sure how to get through to you because he’s never made a mistake like this before. “just- could you… forgive me?”

the ache you head in his voice breaks you, and you’re sure he can see the tears threatening to spill, but you stand with your choice. “can i? i don’t really know, to be honest,” you respond, voice soft and low, not quite daring to meet his eyes in case you falter.

the contrast between how you were and how you are kicks him in the gut and he has no one to blame but himself. he doesn’t want to, but he can sense where this is going. he’s not stupid, he just… doesn’t want to believe it.

“please… don’t do this?” sae swallows the lump in his throat, the foreign way his heartbeat quickens out of fear stumping him. there’s probably more he should say, but maybe that just wouldn’t be enough anymore. his words can’t find him and he can’t find it in himself to reach out to you. not when he realises you out of all people hate the most for having to do this.

if you just blindly follow your heart, you’d leap in his arms right now, fuck how soaked he is. because you still love him. you know that, and you think maybe he knows it too, but judging by the perplexed look on his face, he probably doesn’t realise it. that’s why your brain does the deciding for you. it had already made its choice the moment you saw that picture, the moment you saw the headlines on that gossip rag.

“i… think we should break up, sae.”

before today, if you’d told yourself that one day, you’d say these words, you wouldn’t believe it. but here you are, breaking up with the love of your life.

sae is just standing in front of you, staring at you, the happy picture of the two of you during your second year anniversary hanging on your wall haunting him this very second. the command he gave his assistant to help him get that ring for you sending him into the pits of despair. he’s so stunned he doesn’t know what to say or do.

“you’re… serious?”

there’s no expression in his eyes. they’re just dull, and dark, and nothing like how you’re used to.

this time, you’re the one trying to force the words out of your mouth, calmly, because you’re afraid that the tears will just spill out. “you’re… you’re the one who told me to be kinder to myself, right?”

sae chuckles softly, helplessly, as he realises you take every word he says to heart.

EIGHT YEARS AGO

it was beyond him why you let yourself be subjected to this. nobody was a saint, but surely you deserved better than to be treated like trash?

sae understood a little of where you were coming from. it was hard to let go of a three-year relationship, but having you visit him crying in the middle of the night wasn’t exactly what he would condone.

“you can do better than him, you know that right?”

the words slipped out of his mouth before he knew it. he’d once sworn that he wouldn’t meddle in your relationship, that he’d let you figure it out on your own, but your heartaches were getting too often those days that sae just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

it probably wasn’t the best thing to say to you, considering how you were bawling your eyes out and staining his entire jersey with your tears, but sae was never one to filter his words.

“everyone says that.”

which tells sae you didn’t believe that.

“which means there’s some truth there,” he sighed, leaning back against the couch as you continued to bury your head in his chest. sae saw rin from the corner of the room, peaking out of the hallway and gave him a quick wave to signal him to leave them alone.

“i… don’t know what to do.”

you rarely ever did. having been your friend for the past four years before this taught sae two things: one, you gave your all for your relationship, and two, you were one of the kindest people he’s ever known. (and by extension, it simply meant you knew what had to be done, but you refused to do it.)

sae took a deep breath, eyes gazing up at the ceiling before he resumes, “i don’t know why you let people treat you like that.”

you stayed quiet, sniffling, though it’s getting softer now, so sae continues.

“you know, you’re one of the nicest people i know,” sae told you, fingers absentmindedly stroking your hair—the way he always wanted to but never let himself admit. “which is why it kinda sucks that you’re so stupid to let yourself be hurt by that asshole over and over again.”

the both of you chuckled at that. sae was glad to know you understood he meant only well.

“stop… letting people hurt you and then letting them get away like that, okay?” he said it softly, but you definitely caught it. “be kinder to yourself, fucks sake.”

he felt your fingers curl, gripping at his shirt as you stopped yourself from crying. you looked up at him that night, smiling as your tears dried, and sae remembered telling himself that he’d never want to be the reason you had to feel upset.

“when you say it like that, how can i say no?” you joked, laughing, wiping the last of your tears away. “besides, even if i was still being stupid, i’d always have you with me, right?”

sae remembers.

he remembers not answering you, but he remembers thinking yes, always. and he has a feeling you knew back then too, that sae would always be there for you regardless.

only if it’s you.

maybe even back then, you already knew how he felt for you. and you would always listen to him. you’d always believe in him. now he feels even more stupid for everything that transpired. with his words thrown back at him, he finds himself speechless.

“you’re right,” he replies, voice hoarse, his gaze dropping to the floor. sae was being stupid, and he’s crazy if he thinks he’ll be let off that easy.

you’re sniffling a little, and he does you the courtesy of not looking at you even though you’re already turning away. “i’ll mail you your stuff.”

“it’s fine, i’ll get rin to help me take ‘em.”

it’s a diplomatic breakup. polite, nothing out of line, just two adults deciding that maybe now just isn’t the time.

after a long pause, sae gets the guts to speak. “you know you’re the only one for me, right?” because he feels like maybe you’d been doubting it recently and he doesn’t want you to feel worthless. maybe it has the adverse effect and maybe it’s selfish but he needs you to hear that.

you don’t acknowledge it, and you barely acknowledge him, even as he turns to walk out the door. this time, you’re the one not giving the answer, but sae feels like he knows how you feel anyway. you need time away from him. a proper break from him. so sae leaves wordlessly, clinging on to hope that maybe one day, he’ll be deserving of you again.

the moment sae closes the door, you fall to the floor, wailing into your cushion pillow, having one of the worst nights of your life.

THE NEXT WEEK

annoying jr [10.48am]: oi stupid, i’m here.

—followed by an incessant ringing of your doorbell.

when you groan and swing the front door open, you’re greeted by a smirking rin. at least he hasn’t changed one bit since you’d known him when he was a kid. well, at least not to you.

“did you have to ring it so obnoxiously?” you whine, plopping down on your couch, burying your head in the leather seats.

rin shuts the door behind him, scoffing. “you’re the one who always used to wake up late,” he quips, rolling his eyes (you don’t have to see it, you just know how he’s going to react).

“and someone was always the third party on dates,” you snap back, sticking your tongue out at him.

he deadpans, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “hey, wasn’t my fault my stupid brother kept using me as an excuse to go out.”

right, because back then his parents were a lot more strict than they are now, back before they didn’t know you.

realising that the mood had grown a little somber, rin clears his throat, changing the subject. “how’s work so far?”

you chuckle under your breath, finding it funny how both the brothers’ go-to question is to ask about your work. though, they’ve never been that good in conversations so you can’t blame them.

“it’s fine, promotion period’s coming up so i’m preparing for that,” you respond lacklustrely, getting up off the couch, dragging your feet to your bedroom before resurfacing just ten seconds later, carrying a box full of sae’s things.

it’s full of his clothes, care products and the like, but mostly clothes, because you’d realised you liked to steal his jerseys, wear them like they’re your own, but mostly because they smell like him, remind you of him when he’s not physically around and makes you feel better.

doesn’t make you feel good when you have to pack them up, though. you cried all the way again. pathetically. but rin doesn’t have to know, so you keep up your unbothered facade.

rin takes the box from you, thankfully not mentioning his brother. “hope you get that promotion then,” he says politely, though you sense he might have something else to say that he doesn’t know if he should.

you sigh, because sometimes rin looks like a neglected younger brother and you don’t have the heart to ignore him like sae does sometimes. “go ahead, say what’s on your mind.”

it takes just a moment of hesitation before rin heeds your words. “did you see sae’s interview last night?”

part of you doesn’t want to think about anything related to sae, but most of you still misses him, so it’s a canon event that you still look out for any and every news of him. it’s sad and pathetic and that’s why you make extra care not to mention any of that to anyone.

“nope, was it about their recent win?”

you try to go on as per normal, like sae isn’t just the love of your life that you still wanted.

“mhm.” rin, at least, doesn’t tease you about it. whether he means to or not, you’re grateful for that. “they asked him, though. about that game.” (but of course, you knew that already.)

ah, that game. the game that he abandoned to come find you. the game that led up to your breakup. the game that sae probably had to pay dearly for for knowingly ditching.

“oh, i see. what about it?”

a resigned sigh leaves rin’s lips as he looks at you with the full sincerity of a younger brother concerned with his older brother’s fuckup. “he… really loves you, you know? he’s just… stupid.”

you snort at his last remark, both of you breaking out into a small laughter. it’s bittersweet, thinking about how this might be the last time you see rin, but you’ll probably get over it. you’ll get over this, and sae, and move on someday—now if only you could get yourself to want that.

“i know,” you mutter quietly, deciding that it’s best not to speak too much about it. it’s dumb, considering everything that happened, but his words made you feel relieved, even if just for a second.

just before he leaves, you give him one last hug. “thanks, rin.”

THREE MONTHS LATER

“please don’t give me another heart attack like last time.”

sae huffs, annoyed, although he knows he probably deserves that. his poor assistant went through hell trying to appease everyone on the team due to sae’s last stunt. luckily, there are exceptions made for the best soccer player on the team, so no punishment was dire enough that he had to get kicked.

“i’m just going out for some air.” sae leaves before his assistant can get any words out, entirely too tired today to listen to anything anyone else has to say.

besides, today is a special day.

the moment he’s out of earshot, he calls one of the only contacts on his phone. for some reason, his heart is thumping wildly and his fingers are fiddling with the hem of his windbreaker. the weather is nearing negatives but somehow, he doesn’t feel it.

“hello?”

sae nearly gets a heart attack of his own when a deep, low voice is what he hears, until he realises that he recognises it.

“rin, what’re you doing there?”

he can make out the sadistic chuckle from halfway across the world. “what, disappointed?” (if sae could punch him right now he would.) “relax, we’re just at her birthday dinner and she’s busy,” he explains, though sae doesn’t nearly care about any of that other than the fact that he wants to talk to you.

“where’s y/n?”

“she’s the birthday girl, people are lining up just to take pictures with her,” rin raises his voice over the background, and sae’s never been more frustrated. “she’s taking pics with some handsome guy right now, and he’s got his hands around her waist,” rin whistles right after, and sae can just sense his smugness through the phone.

whether what his brother said was true or not, sae is in no position to be jealous anyway. (even though he is and he’s sporting an unamused frown that’s enough to scare the living daylights out of anyone watching him.)

“wish her happy birthday for me then.”

rin snorts. “sure. disappointed you didn’t get to hear her—” sae hangs up before he can be subjected to anymore of his brother’s nonsense. all he really wanted was to just hear your voice, but he won’t be greedy.

staying friends was already a miracle. that’s only possible because you have a heart of gold, and he knows that if he ever pushes it too much, he might just risk losing you forever and he knows he can’t have that. so for now, this’ll do.

he’ll wait, no matter how long he has to.

later that night, when the moon is high up in spain, sae receives a notification from you. there, attached in your thread is an audio message.

“itoshi sae… thank you.”

the little laugh you leave at the end is enough to make him smile at his phone. he counts his blessings for you, and starts counting down to the days he has left in spain. if he wants you, he needs to go all in.

ONE YEAR LATER

“you ready yet? i’m at your lobby.”

sae can just barely make out your panicked state from the other line. you’re late, and you know he’s fine with waiting, but because you’re a perfectionist, you really really don’t want him to have to.

“yeah, just gimme like, five minutes!” which sae knows translates to i actually need twenty but i’ll rush. there’s a certain satisfaction it gives him—knowing that he knows you in these ways that nobody else can.

“take your time, i have to pump some gas anyway, running low,” he tells you, an excuse which you accept right away because it’s convenient.

sae doesn’t even need any gas. it’s full, so he parks his car by the entrance and waits inside, turning up the air conditioning because he knows you’ll be sweating a little by the time you inevitably still choose to rush down.

it’s exactly one year since the last time he wished you happy birthday (through rin). and this year, he’s happy enough he gets to actually take you out. the past year’s been filled of sae restarting the relationship from ground zero—back to being friends and gradually coming back again to where you are now, dating. sure, it’s taxing having to do it all over again, but he’d do this however many times you want him to.

SIX MONTHS AGO

“hmmm, i dunno how to feel, i kinda like this.”

sae had been calling you up often, and he feels good inside knowing that you might miss him as much as he misses you.

“kinda like what?” he asked, wishing that he could see your expression right now.

“kinda like you chasing me all over again,” you giggled, shameless with your words. “what if i just never agree to be your girlfriend again? what if i just make you chase after me forever?”

he knew for a fact that you weren’t that sadistic, but even so, his answer would still be the same. “then i’ll stick in this phase with you. forever.” although that would render the ring that he bought for you useless.

“oh really?”

sae hummed in faux contemplation. “nah, maybe not. maybe i’ll just ditch you and run off with ryusei or something.”

he got a laugh out of you for that.

“ryusei? not even some other girl, but ryusei?”

sae chuckled—he still remembered his mistake. and he’d never put you in a position to feel that way again. even if you two were just joking around.

“y/n, there’s no one else except you.” he was rarely ever serious like this, especially considering how you bantered as friends, but sometimes, he knew he had to. nowadays, more than anything, he just wanted to know that you had no doubts about how he felt for you.

you didn’t give any response to that, but considering how you started to ease up around him even more after that, sae felt like maybe there was a solid hope there of reviving this after all.

the knock on his window brings him back into the present, your pretty face doing wonders in lighting up his mood.

as you get into the passenger seat, sae steals a glance at you from head to toe—you’re so beautiful and so worth the wait and you’ll always be.

“so, where are you taking me today, mr itoshi sae?”

he leans back against his seat, tilting his head as he looks at you, feigning contemplation. “depends, ms l/n y/n, do you trust me?”

you press your lips into a line, the corners threatening to tug upwards. you’re so adorable that sae’s actually going to go insane but he dons a straight face like he always has because letting you know the power you have over him is more than you need to know.

“i think it’d be a little weird if i couldn’t trust my boyfriend.”

suddenly it’s like time stands still and sae’s hands are stuck on the steering wheel and he’s left staring into space wondering if he heard you right. boyfriend? he turns around to look at you, teal eyes searching your own for answers but all he sees is a smirk on your face—you definitely know the power you have over him.

“wow, want me that bad, huh?” you joke, giggling as you tell him to hit the gas. “i… wasn’t kidding though.”

and as he pulls out of the parking lot, he thinks about the little velvet box that sits in his jacket pocket, thinks about the fact that he’s one of the luckiest people in the world thanks to you. heat rises to his cheeks, and he has to look away from you.

“you know one day you’re still gonna be mrs itoshi, right?”

this time, you laugh—but not like you think it’s a joke, more like the kind where you think was there even any other option? and even then, you offer him assurance.

“there’s nothing i want more.”

#CAN YOU GUYS TELL I MISS SAE SOOO MUCHHH #also … 0% proofread so if you see any mistakes ha ha …#itoshi sae x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #sae x reader #sae x you #sae x y/n #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #bllk x y/n #itoshi sae fluff #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #sae fluff #૪ aeri’s fics !

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cosmicanakin · 2 months

Note

Hi, can you do an imagine about pranking vinnie, and telling him to try not to annoy you today, please

pranks.

pairing. vinnie hacker x female reader.

outline. you prank your boyfriend by telling him not to annoy you and it backfires, which wasn't what you expected.

contains. angst, (are we even surprised?), pranks, emotional distress, crying.

authors note. thank you for requesting anon babe ! i'm sorry if it wasn't exactly how you wanted it but i hope you enjoy <3

you wake up feeling mischievous, plotting a prank to play on your unsuspecting boyfriend vinnie. thinking up the perfect plan to really mess with him, you can't help the smirk forming as he slowly stirs awake.

leaning over, you whisper in his ear "good morning baby." however, your usually sweet tone holds an underlying edge of irritation that has vinnie blinking in confusion. before he can say anything, you continue in a clipped manner.

"i'm already annoyed so don't bother me at all for the rest of the day, okay? i mean it." his eyebrows furrow, clearly taken aback by your sharp words. searching your face for any sign that it's a joke, hurt washes over him as you give no indication you don't seriously want space.

"okay..." he says hesitantly, hurt flickering in his eyes as he climbs out of bed. part of you feels guilty seeing how your prank is already affecting him, but you're determined to commit fully to the bit. hopefully he'll catch on soon that you're messing with him.

throughout the morning, vinnie keeps his distance as asked, seeming uneasy and unsure what to do to not annoy you further. any attempts at jokes or affection are met with exaggerated irritation, cementing in his mind that you genuinely need space from him.

it grows harder to maintain your façade as his usual cheerfulness fades into guarded silence. by midday, remorse is gnawing a hole in your gut seeing how dejected vinnie appears. when he recoils from your touch with worried eyes, you can no longer take it.

"vinnie, i need to tell you something," you start, grabbing his arm as he tries to walk away. he pauses but doesn't turn, shoulders hunched in defeatedly. "this was all just a stupid prank baby, i don't actually want space from you."

whirling around, hurt and anger flash across his features. "a prank? i thought you were seriously pissed off at me! you had me questioning everything all day," he shouts, hurt turning to rage the longer he processes how badly you messed with him.

"i'm sorry, it was just a joke. i didn't mean to actually upset you,” you scramble to apologize but he brushes past, heading for the door. "where are you going?" panic surges through you, worrying you may have broken the fragile trust between you.

"i just need to be alone for a while, i can't even look at you right now," he spits venomously before slamming the front door behind him. collapsing to the floor, you pull your knees up to your chest as quiet sobs escape your lips.

hours pass with no word from vinnie, your texts and calls going unanswered in a painful silence. night falls heavily, adding to your despair wondering if you pushed him too far this time. just as you're about to give up hope, the door creaks open slowly.

lifting your head, you see vinnie standing uncertainly in the doorway, eyes puffy and red-rimmed from his own tears. without a word, he crosses over and falls into your waiting embrace, holding on for dear life. neither of you speak for a long while, simply taking comfort in being close again.

finally, vinnie pulls back enough to look at you with watery eyes. "i'm still so fucking mad at you but i love you too much to walk away. just promise me no more stupid pranks, okay?” he pleads brokenly.

"i promise, i'm so sorry sweetheart. can you ever forgive me?” you ask, cupping his face gently. he nods, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips in acceptance of your apology. holding each other tightly, you both silently vow to communicate better to avoid such hurt in the future.

your love proves stronger than any misstep could fracture, bonding that transcends fleeting fallouts. here in sanctuary of each other’s arms rediscovered, all remnants of shadows melt under floods of forgiveness' warmth. two souls learn as one, growing through missteps refined to blossoms entwining roots anchored in understanding deeper than any sea. this you vow eternally, to cherish the blossoms arising where hearts intertwine.

#﹙ kari writes 𝜗𝜚 ﹚#vinnie #vinnie hacker #vinniehacker #vhackerr #vinnie hacker angst #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker x female reader #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie imagines #vinnie x female reader #vinnie x reader #vinnie smut #vinnie angst #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie blurb

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privitivium · 3 months

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yandere big guy tries to comfort you,,, after, kidnapping you pretty sloppily. subtop m reader, dubcon,,,

being taken from your room in the middle of the night and thrown over a muscular shoulder is not the ideal way of waking up, no. you werent all that worried, if you were being honest. your friend, janey, your best bro.. you trust him and his idiotic antics. he seemed a little ditzy, and he was probably just drunk, yeah?.. you were just a little peeved at this minor inconvenience, rather than concerned.. he's done things like this before, carrying you out of bed just to sit you in the living room and have a bro-cuddle session while watching whatever the hell he wanted to show you.,.

"aw babe, come on.." he grunts softly, heaving in deeply before huffing.. growing annoyed. he reaches over to touch you and you flinch away. he was trying so hard to get you settled, but he knows it's only been a day! - "i know how much you like big chests.. it was all over your porn search history!" he cheered, chuckling softly as he wraps his thick, muscular arms around your head and thoroughly making you bury your nose into his fat pecs.. hnngh-! i-in an attempts to comfort you, after the whole um.. shoving you in the back of his car after tying you up and leaving you moderately injured since you did struggle - in front of your apartment complex. now.. where? a nice looking house, uhm.. comfortable.. there were pictures of you and him along the walls and a whole wall of polaroids and .. clothes? your clothes that you were upset over because they were missing??

"I'm.. dirty.. and i stink really .. bad!" you grunt exasperatedly, as though that were reason enough to let you go - trying to find more reasons; no matter how lame they might appear.. seemingly not understanding how far he was willing to go for you. did you already forget? the pictures of a bloody mess of a harrasser in your phone sent to you by an unknown number. "why do you still like me? what is there to like????" you squirm, jaw clenching as you resist the urge to take a fat fucking chunk of flesh from his boobs.. "what isn't there to like? you're so paranoid.. but that's alright, babe." He chuckles, removing one of his thick arms to pet your head rather gently.. "and.. you don't even smell bad.." to prove his argument, he dips his head in the crevice of your neck, humming contentedly as he nuzzles his nose into your neck - squirming to get away because holy shit that feels weird. at least he took you on this getaway just before your days off.. ugh.

"I-i just.. what are you even doing?? where even are we?" your voice cracks as though you were about to start crying, which wasn't far off the mark - you were trying to stay strong, but the heat behind your eyes prevailed annoyingly enough.. and being smothered.. well, it did soothe you.. "you're only gonna make me more nervous the longer you don't answer.." you choke out - trying to sound aggressive, still ever so moody as you nuzzle into his chest without complaint..

janey coos, gently rubbing his palm over your head with pouting lips, "awh.. fret not.." He tries to sound smaller, petting the back of your head like an affectionate owner with their cat.. "i know something that'll make you feel better.. you don't need to tell me why you're so moody - i can tell!" janey chuckles good-naturedly.. "i've been watching you all this time, babe. and i meanㅡit makes sense! you're pent up! you haven't touched yourself for a really long time - a week and a half! you usually do it every other day, but this was a stretch.." he pats you on the shoulder, grinning cheekily. you dont have it in you to look at him....... bro, how could you?

"c'mon.. this'll feel much better than jerking off to me all by your lonesome, huh?" he teases, god he felt so free - free to finally be as lewd and forward as he wants with you... all held up together, no way out.. isnt that just so romantic? he thought of everything-! he pulls you away, big hands on your shoulders - startled, as you stare at up wide-eyed. a little upset that he pulled you away from your safe haven..

"why are you talking like that?" your eyes narrow, squinting as your face grows warm. so embarrassing.. a-and, why is he pushing you back? you trip over your feet, landing on your ass - thankfully, on a cushion.. "you're being fucking weird, bro." You complain, gritting your teeth as you grip his wrists - trying to tug his hands from off your body. he relents, looming over you as you sit on the edge of the bed. uhh.. his groin in your face.

"dude, don't act like you dont like this!" he chuckles, hands on his hips as he tilts his head down at you, he looks so.. at ease. fuck this guy! in aㅡin a bad way, though.. "like, you're finally my babe! i can touch you as freely as i want without you having to be asleep!" he mentions, grinning wildly as he crawls ob top of you - being forced back and propping yourself up with your elbows - fuck he was a little heavy.. all that muscle mass.. and huge tits weighing him down... "i know i'm having a good time.." janey coos, reaching up and pinching your face gently - thights straddling yours and his meaty hand worming along the inner of your thigh - cupping your bulge very much boldly-! you yelp in surprise, thighs tensing - and i mean, hey, can you blame yourself?? you cannot be held accountable for not being able to control your body's instinctive reactions to his fleeting touches.. blood rushing to your concealed cock and merely fueling janey's amusement..

he didn't mind taking the lead, he supposes.. you seemed a little too sensitive.. though, most of his fantasies include you being the dominant one in this situation, so he certainly wouldn't mind a surprise such as that..

"ah, nuh.. wait..." you try to mediate, fumbling over your words of denial - nervous and beginning to tremble the longer his palm glides along your clothed groin, rubbing the fabric of your boxers into your dick and causing a moderate pleasureable friction,, you shift, feeling sweaty, and squirm underneath his much larger body ㅡlifting your hands to try and push him away by his shoulders while trying to worm your knees inbetween his body and yours.. god he was so much stronger. useless - as he fondles your junk to try and liven up your dick,, janey shivers, whimpering as he squirms atop your lap, heaving as he pushes himself off you - he mewls your name, rushing to kick off his pants - a wet spot on the crotch of his pants.

"i'll help you.. i'll - i'll help you ease into this, babe.. don't even worry.." janey breathes out - and you jump up - making a move away from him, not necessarily escapingㅡbefore he reaches out and harshly tugs you into his thick arms, shirt unbuttoned completely and only in his cum stained boxers..

“fuck.. no.. janey!” you squirm in his grip - you weren't in the mood, were you? fuck, your dick straining painfully against your boxers and zipper of your jeans - body weakening as you feel him palm your erection so gently, trailing his thumb along the print of your cock... “it's okay, babe.. really, i promise..” he assures, smiling comfortingly - his free arm wrapped around your midsection and holding you firmly on his lap, pressing against his own erection… he's sure to last longer, cumming so easily in his pants from merely touching on you..

you.. didn't have any complaints.. Did you? i mean.. fuck, he was getting you all heated, dick aching in pain from not being touched - but to fuck him, your crush, the guy who kidnapped you and who would send you weird cryptic shit? uah, fuck.. “.. no.. bro..” you try, once again, as he shucks off your pants roughly - kicking your legs before he was stripping down completely and straddling your lap again - hovering his ass over your tip.. he shivers, dick pressing into your body and smearing his juices messily over your skin,, you marvel, pressing the side of your face into his belly. he was so big,, tall. so tall and bulky,, your hands roaming his tanned muscular thighs before moving to his backside - completely in wonder as you try to distract yourself with the plushy, squishy feeling of his ass in your palms..,, pulling, spreading him apart as he lowers himself, really, it was a subconscious action..!

“fuck!” he whimpers, the tip of your thick cock finally making it passed his lubed up ring of muscle - continuously muttering fuck, as he proceeds to slowly rock himself down,, wanting his insides to remember the shape of your cock,, he sits there for a moment - shuddering, and trying to relax - trying to focus on the feeling of your hands fondling his boobs,,

“fuck.. that's.. my good boy..” he cooed.. janey knew how much you liked that.. his good boy.. everytime he watched you in the privacy of your room, touching yourself and writhing in your bed - cumming almost immediately after the pornstars that sounded similar to him praise the camera.. god you were so fucking cute. he tenses his walls around your girth, cock twitching and mewling and positively drooling - you really were such a good boy, fucking into him so well.. he could get used to seeing you like this,, splayed out underneath him while he rides on your cock - painting his insides white as he cums along your chest - heaving breaths,, “isnt that romantic? we came at the same time, babe..”

#ocs =͟͟͞͞★#x male reader #dombot character :p #subtop m reader #top male reader

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nisuna · 2 months

Text

By popular demand I present you part 2 of the Toji x single mom!reader AU. Hope you enjoy!

(read part 1 here!!)

TW: A lot of bickering as always haha, bj, throat fucking, deep throating, masturbation, cum swallowing, you're both so stubborn holy moly, 1.3k words, Toji x single mom!reader

<3masterlist<3

---------------Strictly 18+MDNI---------------

He stayed longer than just for breakfast and actually became a frequent visitor. He even met your kids on one of his weekly stays. You didn't expect him to be good with kids at all, but they immediately took a liking to him. As soon as your parents heard you had a new man in your life and saw how happy you were they were eager to take the kids in more often so you two had time alone. It was an ordinary day, he was sleeping in as usual, but you were already busy making yourself ready. He promised to take you out on a date today, however even after your many attempts to finally get him out of bed, he still refused. A woman can only take that much, so you finally snapped.

"You're acting like you got pegged last night."

That woke him right up, he even sat up. "Excuse my tiredness after having to do everything myself, pillow princess.", he snarled

He's so annoying. You had to groan as you held your head. "Oh, is that so? Poor you, but just so you know, I do a lot of work, too." you approached him, pointing your finger at him

"Really? Haven't seen much of that lately. You have to try harder or I won't believe you." he was so smug about it as he stood up and took your hand in his.

"Just you wait, I'm gonna prove you wrong."

"Oh, how so?", he mused while pulling your body flush against his, kissing your hand.

"Stop it, we're late, we don't have time for this right now. Move your ass and don't be so stubborn.", you tried to push him away.

"What are you gonna do about it?"

Oh, now he's done it. You finally lost your temper and pulled him to stand against the wall. You palmed him through his pants as you pressed yourself against him.

"I'm gonna suck you dry, boy." , you said, already getting on your knees in front of him and pulling his underwear down.

"Hah, I'd love to see you try, do you even- oh fuck"

"Does he ever shut up?", you rolled your eyes while almost swallowing him whole. You muffled your impending gag with a hard suck.

You pulled yourself off his cock, tongue still sliding over the underside of it. "Just shut up and savor it."

Before he could speak you sucked his tip back into your mouth. You bobbed your head while his cock was hitting the back of your tight throat. You could feel the tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

To make it a bit easier on yourself, you pulled away spitting on your hand and pumping him while your tongue kept playing with his tip. He was being awfully quiet, which made you quite proud. Such a huge man at your mercy, you were definitely digging it. His eyes were glued on you throughout. Even though he had to throw his head back at your skillful tongue, he kept looking back down as if he couldn't believe his eyes. You shot him a smirk as you pulled up his shirt and kissed up his hard abs, your hand keeping a steady rhythm. He was messy already and you felt yourself grow wet, desperately rubbing your thighs together for some kind of relief. You were getting impatient, so you couldn't stop yourself from slipping your fingers between your legs. A moan fell from your lips at the contact. He didn't notice at first, but after feeling you moan around his cock so eagerly he finally looked down. Surely you wouldn't get so much pleasure from only sucking his cock, right?

"Holy shit are you touching yourself? Fuck that's hot.", he groaned grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling you off of his cock.

Your eyes were still a bit teary and you let out a few coughs, taking a deep breath while you kept playing with yourself, showing him everything. Connecting your lips back to his cock you whispered. "Gotta make this enjoyable for myself too you know" You flattened your tongue and licked a thick stripe from his base and back to his tip. You were working yourself open with the same rhythm you were sucking on his cock.

"Fuck, how are you so good at this?"

"The best, actually.", you grinned, sticking your tongue out and playing with your clit.

"Alright, alright, too much talking." he groaned. "Get back to sucking, you look prettier that way.", he smirked before shoving his cock back down throat with two hands on your head.

He let out a deep moan after he bottomed out, continuing his teasing. "And keep rubbing yourself, I want you to cum with my cock down your throat."

Before you could even roll your eyes, he began moving and you felt like you were about to suffocate as you dug your nails into his beefy thighs. You tried your best to relax your throat as much as possible and went back to playing with your dripping cunt. You tried dipping your fingers in from time to time but your fingers just didn't do it for you anymore after having experienced his thick and long ones, let alone his cock. So you opted for circling your sensitive clit with your nimble fingers instead. His smell and the sensation of his heavy cock on your tongue was making you weak. He on the other hand also enjoyed the sensation of you moaning around his cock and how your throat would constrict from time to time. Oh he won't last long, but he has to hold out until you cum first.

"Good fucking girl, you look so pretty like that. Make yourself cum and I'll fill up your mouth. Fuck there we go."

You felt yourself twitch with every touch and couldn't stop your eyes from rolling in the back of your head as you came with a muffled moan and a mouthful of cock.

He was sooo smug about it and kept making snarky remarks and you let him while you were fingering yourself through your orgasm. But it didn't take you long to get back on track as you stopped his hips with your hand. You were supposed to be the one to make him cum. And that's exactly what you did, pumping his shaft with one hand while bobbing your head and paying special attention to his tip with your tongue. You locked eyes with him and that's what broke him. He grabbed your head, shoving himself down your throat as far as he could and finally gave you a taste of his cum.

It tasted like shit, but you had a point to prove so you woman-ned up and swallowed every last drop. After you were done you pulled yourself off with a pop, proudly sticking your tongue out.

"You were saying?" Now it was your turn to be smug.

"Fuck, you're good, I'll give you that."

"Very good" you hummed and got back up, rubbing out the dents on your knees from the hard floor. "So if you don't have anything else to say let's finally- hey!!", you were very rudely interrupted by him picking you up and carrying you back into your bed. "What do you think you're doing mister??", you interrogated while pulling on his ear.

"You think I can just move on and act like nothing happened after the best head of my life?"

It's so cheesy, he really acts like a horny teenager a lot. But still, you were speechless, so you just blinked at him in silence, letting him continue.

"Gotta finish what you started, sweetheart. l want you to prove me wrong some more why you're not just a pillow princess in bed." So annoying, but extremely exciting as well. "Fuck it", you gave in and crashed your lips against his while he held you up in his strong arms.

You two definitely won't make it out of the house today. Better luck next time!!

------

Part 3 anyone?? haha

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galexystern · 4 months

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easy - 18+

pairing; actor!steve harrington/fem!reader

warnings; smut (MDNI), angst, tooth-rotting & v cheesy fluff, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), squirting, unprotected p in v, creampie, jealousy, kinda hurt/comfort, one use of y/n near the end

word count; ~4.3k

desc; while on a press tour for his latest movie, steve says something that sends you into a spiral. something that forces him prove his undying love for you when he gets home.

a/n; based off that interview of tom blyth and rachel zegler on the tbosas press tour. you know the one

read on ao3 / masterlist

You come upon it without trying. Dating an actor can be hard, watching them experience whole lifetimes and romances in a tight two-hour movie or eight-episode show, and your boyfriend Steve Harrington feels things deeper than others, you know. Thus why you never search the press Steve does for any project—you don’t need to hear it.

Of course, if something pops up on your feed, you’ll watch it. It’s impossible to swipe away from his lovely face; you’ve missed him so much as he’s worked on his latest movie, and any whiff of him is captivating. Which is how you see one specific interview he did with his co-star, Nancy Wheeler, the female love interest.

“Who wouldn’t love her? It’s so easy to fall in love with Nancy.”

As soon as you hear it, the words embed themselves. They echo within you all the time. You try to forget them, distract yourself, but it’s useless. You’d hoped they’d go away when Steve comes home, but they’re still there, bouncing around your brain like the world’s most annoying song. When he’s hugging you so tight you can barely breathe. When he’s smiling uncontrollably at being home. When he’s talking nonstop about his adventures on set.

“It’s so easy to fall in love with Nancy.”

You shake your head to get rid of the phrase, and take Steve into the dining room, where the table is ready with all his favorite foods. You’d prepared them in another attempt to quiet your mind, not that it had worked, but it makes him smile so it was worth it anyway. You sit him down and then slide into your seat across from him, watching as he dishes out onto his plate and digs in. You don’t touch it. You’re not hungry.

“And then, believe it or not, I slip on the goddamn banana peel. Can you believe that?” He laughs at his own bad luck. “They used that take for the final cut. Can’t wait for you to see it.” He’s been talking about taking you to the premiere since the date was set. The idea of being in front of reporters and cameras and the movie’s other stars is kind of nauseating.

That’s when you hear yourself blurting out, “Are you in love with Nancy?”

As soon as the words have left your lips you want to suck them back in. Your boyfriend’s eyes have widened astronomically and his hand is frozen, fork stuck halfway between the plate and his open mouth. Convenient, you think helplessly.

“Never mind,” you rush out before he can say anything, “forget it. I’m sorry.”

Steve blinks a couple times, seeming to come back into his body, and then carefully lays his fork down, bite of food unconsumed. He laughs awkwardly, and you cringe. Your fault for ruining the mood. “Can’t really forget that, can I?” He half-jokes before wiping his face with a napkin and then putting it on the table. His chair scoots back as he stands, and for a moment you’re terrified he’s going to walk out, insulted beyond belief that you would ask something so wild, but he just rounds the table to your side and sits in the seat next to you. He angles his body towards you, and maneuvers your chair to face him. You sit there like dead weight.

“Now, my love,” he starts gently, “what was your question?”

You don’t really want to repeat it, but you’ve never been able to deny him anything. “I asked if you were in love with Nancy,” you answer, almost inaudible.

He nods thoughtfully. “And why would you think that?”

He’s not being accusatory, but you still clam up, afraid of what could come next. You shrug instead.

“Angel, I’m not going to be mad at you. I promise.”

You meet his gaze, seeing love and sincerity shining brightly, and finally explain quietly, “I saw that interview you two had. Where you said that it was easy to fall in love with her.”

Steve exhales heavily. “I was afraid that might be it.” Your expression sharpens and he rushes to add, “I’m not in love with her. I was just worried this exact thing could happen after I said it.”

“Why’d you say it then?” You ask petulantly.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I was thinking more in terms of my character instead of myself, truthfully. And I meant more in terms of her character too. Ryan would—and did—find it easy to fall in love with Sarah,” using their character names.

“But you said Nancy’s name.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m so sorry. You don’t usually look at my press so I wasn’t sure if you’d seen it, and I didn’t wanna bring it up and worry you. I know it sounds like an excuse, sweetheart, but I meant what I said. I’m not in love with Nancy.”

“Okay,” you reply, not fully convinced.

Steve can tell. “Baby, look at me, please?” You lift your head to meet his pleading stare. “I’m not in love with Nancy,” he says firmly, drilling it into you. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, and I’m going to stay in love with you for a long time. Forever, if you’ll let me.”

Again, words fly out before you can stop them. “Please don’t tell me that’s a proposal.”

He’s caught by an unexpected laugh. “No, honey. When I propose to you, you’ll know it.” A thrill runs through you with the use of “when” and your lip quirks up. But it’s quick to pop back down, and Steve notices. He pats his thighs. “Come here, angel.”

It takes a few seconds, but you eventually drag yourself from your chair and into his lap, letting your legs dangle and wrapping your arms around his neck. He secures his own around your waist, not letting you fall or slide backwards. You’re close enough that he can nuzzle his nose against yours, and you huff a giggle at the movement. His lips curl into a smile on your cheek.

He moves so that your foreheads are resting together and he can gaze deep into your eyes. You can’t look away. “I love you, baby. Only you. And you can always come to me if you’re upset or unsure or whatever. Okay?” You nod hesitantly. “Do you need me to prove it? That you’re the one for me?” You go breathless when his hands dip down to your ass and press you more firmly against him, feeling his hardness and making your underwear go wet in response. You nod more quickly this time and he smirks.

“C’mere then,” he whispers and you waste no time meeting his lips with yours. He kisses you, slow and languorous, taking his sweet time swiping his tongue across the seam of your mouth and exploring inside when you eagerly open for him. It’s like a dance, how it weaves with yours. This isn’t a time for domination.

You slide your hands into his hair and tug at the strands, swallowing his resulting moan. He seems to know innately when you need air and pulls away, only to come back and run his mouth along your jaw sweetly.

“Such pretty noises,” he murmurs, referring to the little whimpers you let out when he nips lightly at your skin. “Music to my ears, baby.”

If that’s the case, then you can only think he has to be delighted at your whiny moan when he sucks a mark into the pulse point on your neck. Sure enough, he thrusts into you at the sound, hitting your clit perfectly and soaking you further. You want to keep the friction going so you continue the grinding, Steve’s hands fully clutching your hips now to help you along.

Unexpectedly, he stands, bringing you with him. You squeal and wrap your legs around his waist desperately, not really believing he would drop you but feeling a tad scared anyways. He chuckles as he walks the both of you out of the dining room and up the stairs, nudging the bedroom door open with your hips. It’s dark, but the moon is shining in through the open window, creating a soft glow that compliments your boyfriend’s skin and shadows that outline his firm jaw. He sets you down slowly, letting your feet drag down until they softly land on the floor, and once you’re standing securely, he slides his hands up your body until they’re cupping your cheeks.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers, and you heat at the praise. He must be able to feel it, burning underneath your skin, but he doesn’t point it out.

He dips in and kisses you again, hands going to the hem of your shirt and pulling it up, up, up, over your head, interrupting the kiss for just a moment and then he’s back on you. His fingers explore the newly revealed skin, caressing it reverently, like you’re made of the most precious substance and might break if he presses too hard. Shivers fizzle wherever his touch goes—across your stomach, over your hips, up your back. He finds your bra strap and unhooks it, moving back a touch so he can pull it off along with his own shirt. He comes back immediately, and you gasp into his mouth as your breasts make contact with his chest hair, the wiry feeling of it rubbing against your nipples deliciously.

You break from his intoxicating mouth to whine his name. “Sh,” he soothes, “let me worship you. My angel from heaven.”

Your heart practically melts at the words and all thoughts of pouting disappear. You let Steve push you backwards and sit you on the edge of the bed. He stands above you, two fingers under your chin to angle your head up towards his. It’s almost impossible to look directly at him, the level of love and adoration in his expression blinding in its intensity.

“Love of my life. Can I taste you?” You nod dazedly at his question, unable to do anything else, unwilling to do anything else. “Lay back for me.”

Following orders, you do so, and he slips off your pants. His fingers stroke down your legs as they go, tugging off your socks as well. He kneels and you prop up on your elbows just in time to watch him bury his face between your legs, smelling you through your underwear. They’re already soaked, but he doesn’t seem to mind: he laps at the wet spot and moans. “Missed this so much, baby. Your taste, your smell. Couldn’t stop thinking about doing this the whole time I was gone.”

His fingers hook into the waistband and drag it down, infuriatingly slow, and you’re thinking of whining again when he licks a line up your slit. The intended whine comes out as a moan instead, spurring Steve on to press into you even deeper. You lose yourself in his ministrations, as he swirls his tongue across your folds and up to your clit. When he sucks it into his mouth, you collapse backwards, unable to hold yourself up any longer during this beautiful torture.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says, hand drawing in and rubbing a finger against your entrance. “Let yourself feel it. Feel how much I missed you. How much I love you.”

Your eyes roll back when that finger breaches you, pushing inside and crooking upwards to catch that spot he always knows how to find. “Oh,” you breathe, “finally.”

His lips quirk up and you can tell he must be smirking. “Finally, huh?” You shake your head; he’d misunderstood. “What then, honey?”

“Couldn’t do it right myself,” you pant. “You do it—” your breath hitches as he brushes that spot again, “better.”

“Is that right?” As much as it irritates you, his smug tone is deserved.

“Yes…oh!” You exclaim. He’s inserted another finger, and now both are thrusting inside you, picking up their pace. Little noises fall from you as his tongue flicks your clit in time with his fingers, going deeper with each hit.

“Is my pretty baby going to cum for me?” Steve asks. It’s rhetorical—he can feel you clenching around him, can tell you’re right there on the edge. He knows your body like the back of his hand; he took his time memorizing everything that makes you tick and that knowledge is always tucked away for safekeeping in his head. He’s not in danger of forgetting any of it. So he knows you’re on the precipice. A few more seconds should do it. “Come on,” he urges. “Cum for me, my love. I’ve got you.”

As he suckles your clit, you explode, climax rushing through you like a drug and you float upon it. Your boyfriend works you through it, continuing to curl his fingers inside you to keep you going even higher. All until you’re whimpering from overstimulation—then you think he’s going to remove them. Instead, they increase in speed. You yelp as his mouth dives in again, tongue moving quickly.

“Steve!” You half-shout, eyes squeezing shut as the brilliant torment goes on.

“I know you’ve got another for me, princess,” he says in between licks. “Been wanting to make you squirt again. Got off to the memory of the last time you did every night I was away from you.”

“I can’t,” you cry. You grab his wrist but don’t move it, feeling the orgasm he wants hurtling towards you.

“You can, baby, I know it,” he coaxes. “Gimme another. Just one more and then you get my cock, okay?”

You throw your head back as liquid gushes from you, all over Steve’s face. “Oh, fuck!”

“That’s my girl.” He moves his hand away and sticks his tongue in, gathering up all your climax and swallowing it down, moaning at the taste he’d missed so much. When you’re squeaky clean, he stands above you, and you watch with hazy vision as he sucks his fingers into his mouth and groans in pleasure. “Always taste so good, princess.” You’re so fucked out already that you can’t even feel embarrassed. He wouldn’t want you to anyways.

You weakly lift your hands towards him and make grabby motions. He smiles and does as asked, leaning to hover over you and give you sweet kisses. You wrap your arms around his waist and tug him down, and he collapses on top of you in a huff. You hum contentedly and snuggle into him, making him chuckle fondly and lay on you like a weighted blanket.

“Missed you,” you mumble into his neck, “so much.”

“I missed you too. I’m sorry I said that stupid thing and got you all worried.”

“‘S okay. I know what you meant once you explained. You’ve always been almost a method actor.”

“Maybe, but full method acting is freaky and I’m good without.”

You giggle. “Me too.”

He shifts and you feel his cock on your leg, still hard and without relief. You subtly lift your thigh to rub it and he moans, dropping his head to your shoulder and biting lightly. “Aren’t I supposed to get that now?” You tease. “I gave you what you wanted.”

“And now you want in return?” His tone barely contains the smirk he’s definitely sporting. He lifts himself up to look at you and groans a little at your pleading pout.

“I’ll even wet it for you,” you add while batting your eyelashes. Truthfully, your mouth has been watering ever since he’d first mentioned it.

He kisses you deeply. “An enticing offer that I will take you up on next time, baby. I think I might die if I’m not inside you immediately.” You giggle again as he stands and shucks off his pants and boxers, the sound hitching when his large, red, throbbing cock slaps against his abdomen. He smirks at you unknowingly licking your lips when you spot the precum beading at the head. “Like what you see, angel?”

You nod, eyes still locked on his cock. “Gimme, please,” you whine.

“Anything for you, my love.” He climbs over you again and lines up. Your hips cant forward to urge him on, but his hands clamp down and pin them to the bed. “Gonna savor this,” he murmurs, rubbing his cock through your folds. Electricity bolts through you when it grazes your clit, teasing. His eyes are magnetized to where you’re about to be joined, awed at how beautiful you are for him.

Eventually, his cock notches into your entrance and you gasp lightly. That turns into a drawn-out moan as he takes his time sliding inside, one he matches as soon as he bottoms out. He’s so deep you think you can feel him in your stomach.

Then he’s gone, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, slow but hard, and your back arches. “So responsive,” he coos, and does it again and again, until he’s moving at a steady pace and driving you crazy. Taking advantage of the leisurely tempo, he ducks his head down and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, making you grip the bed sheets with tight fists. He swirls his tongue around, biting gently every now and then to make you jolt against him.

Going so slow grows maddening. “Faster, please, baby. Need more of you.”

“Your wish is my command,” he vows. Soon, he’s moving so hard and fast that the sound of skin slapping fills the room, oddly erotic. You look at him with half-lidded eyes, unable to do anything but take it, be Steve’s little plaything. It feels so good you can barely stand it.

You’re admiring how your boyfriend looks in the soft moonlight, making his eyes shine in an otherworldly way, when he says reverently, “You’re so beautiful like this, sweetheart. Lookin’ like an angel sent just for me. Because you’re all mine, right?”

“Yes, Stevie, all yours,” you moan.

He growls at that, putting his hands on your thighs and pressing them to your chest, allowing him to go even deeper. You keen at the new angle, sound cutting off as he kisses you desperately, and you throw your arms around his neck. He pulls back, much too quickly in your opinion, but you forgive him because he does so to say, “And I’m all yours, baby. You’re the only one for me. Only you make me feel this good. You’re all I think about, all I wanna think about. There’ll never be anyone else, princess. I love you and only you.”

His words push you closer and closer to your release, even more intense than the first two. He knows, urging you on by snaking a hand between your bodies and rubbing quick circles on your clit. “That’s it, soak my cock. Wanna feel you again, honey.”

“Love you, love you, love you,” you say over and over as your orgasm comes upon you. You scream Steve’s name when you finally cum, climax like a cascade, nails dragging down his back like they just might draw blood.

“Yes, angel, I love you too, missed you so much, oh my god, you’re so tight, love you, love you.” He’s babbling, finally cumming too, spilling hot and heavy. When he pulls out, your combined liquid pools out of you, and he groans one last time at the sight. He scoops some up with a finger to taste, eyes closing in delight. He opens them to look at you mischievously. “Wanna try?”

It should sound gross but it’s not. You nod and he repeats his motion. You suck his finger, pleasantly surprised by the enjoyable flavor. But it’s the essence of you and Steve–why wouldn’t it be good?

You must’ve fallen asleep after that, because the next thing you know Steve is wiping you with a warm washcloth, being as gentle as possible. You hum as he pulls the covers over you, but whine when you hear him step away. “It’s okay, angel,” he says softly, “I’ll just be a minute.” You listen to the dresser drawer opening and closing, and then Steve padding out of the room. You doze until you hear him come back and close the door. At long last, he slides into bed and gathers you in his arms. You curl around him like moss on an old building, and he buries his face in your hair.

“Thank you,” you whisper, half-asleep.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby,” Steve replies. “It’s my job to show you how much you mean to me. I love you so much, you know that? It’s the easiest thing to do, loving you.”

“Mm, I love you too.”

“I’m yours for good, angel. And you’re the only one for me. Promise.”

;

“It’s gonna be bright out there, angel, but just keep holding onto me, okay? I’ll get you there in one piece. All you have to do is show off that pretty smile. Sound good?” You nod at your boyfriend, smiling shyly. Steve grins. “There she is. Now, kiss for good luck?” You give him a kiss and then he’s out of the limo. Less than a minute later, he’s ducking back in the open door and holding out a hand for you. You take a deep breath, grab it, and slide out into the flashing lights.

A wall of sound hits you, and you try not to cringe against Steve. So many voices layer over each other, you don’t know what anyone is saying. But you just remember what Steve said and think of him on the night he came home and a smile forms on your face at the memory.

Steve helps you walk carefully down the red carpet, stopping you here and there to pose for the cameras. He wraps an arm around your waist to keep you stable and so you can focus on looking natural. “Doing so good, baby,” he murmurs in your ear at one point, kissing your temple. You close your eyes when he does, hoping one of the photographers got a shot of it. You think you’d like to frame that.

Eventually you reach the end of the carpet, and Steve’s agent ushers you two into the building. It’s a whirlwind in here too, but more manageable, loud but controlled. Your boyfriend turns to you. “You okay?”

You sigh happily at the love and concern in his eyes. “I’m good,” you promise, and he smiles.

Someone shouts his name, and you both turn. None other than Nancy Wheeler is rushing towards you, a tall and lanky man being dragged behind. Steve automatically steps closer and holds your waist again, nodding back at his costar but only thinking about how you might feel. Your heart warms at his attention, and you meet Nancy with a genuine smile.

She stops and grabs your hands. “Oh my gosh, you must be Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you, Steve mentioned you every chance he got. I’m so excited to meet you!”

“I’m excited to meet you too,” you reply.

“This is Jonathan, my boyfriend.” She motions to the boy beside her, who smiles awkwardly and holds out a hand. You shake it, as does Steve.

“Heard a lot about you too, man,” he says to Jonathan, making you feel even better.

“Are you excited for the movie?” Nancy asks, just to you. She’s barely even looked at Steve.

You nod. “Steve says it’s one of his favorites that he’s made.”

“Mine too! It’s such a sweet story. It’ll have you bawling by the end. I hope you brought tissues.”

You peer up at Steve, who had not told you that you were in for a crying fest. He laughs. “Don’t worry, angel. I got some.” He pats his jacket pocket.

Nancy’s eyes are glittering when you look back at her. “We gotta find our seats, but let’s talk at the after party. I have to put a face to all the stories Steve’s told!”

You agree and watch as she and Jonathan walk away into the crowd. You turn to Steve and he draws you close. “Are you sure you don’t wanna just go home and skip this whole thing?” He whines quietly.

You smirk. He’s been asking a variation of the same question ever since you stepped out of the bathroom in this dress—which accentuates your chest and ass “magnificently,” as Steve put it. He’d even tried starting something in the limo, but all that had accomplished was leaving him high and dry after you’d made him keep his hands to himself.

“You wanted me to see the movie,” you counter now.

“Yeah, but we could stream it later. It’s not like I’ll win an Oscar for it or anything.”

You roll your eyes. “You might! It’s prime awards season, babe. And you’ve been getting a lot of acclaim for this role. And you know the academies love a tear-jerker.” He blushes at your argument. “Plus,” you whip out the doe eyes, “I wanna see you on the big screen.”

He sighs in fake annoyance, a fond smile giving it away. “I did say your wish is my command, didn’t I?”

“Yup.” You smile triumphantly.

Steve grins back before kissing you soundly. “I love you, angel.”

“Love you too, Stevie.”

He gives you one last peck, and then grabs your hand and leads you into the theater.

#happy new year!!!#steve harrington x reader #mine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington x you

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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

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Hi! Firstly, wanted to say that your HC are so good! I really enjoyed ones about Gnome and Half-Ork Tav, they're so bittersweet and adorable, my heart melted while reading :') Thank you for your work! (⁠〃ﾟ⁠3ﾟ⁠〃⁠)💖

And secondly, can I please request HC for Astarion and Monk!Tav? I see this as a very interesting concept, especially considering that some monasteries practice celibacy. And knowing Astarion's initial plan, thoughts about their interactions become amusing.

Also I just adore monk class and it's a little bit sad to see it being one of less popular. ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ

Damn, the more I read about Monks, the more I loved them!

Astarion x Monk!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

You didn't become a Monk by choice.

It was your attempt to run away from past mistakes, your only choice for salvation.

A criminal, a murderer no more!

You got a new name, a new role, a new home.

Your past was burnt along with your old clothes and you were reborn as someone new.

Tav the Monk, who follows the Way of the Open Hand.

You drowned your sorrows in strict discipline and training.

You can wear a thin tunic in the coldest winter and walk on burning coals.

The energy of ki flows through you, and your spirit is one with magic.

Your fists are the ultimate weapon, but you use them only to protect the weak and the poor.

You would love to spend your whole life in the monastery, but the Head Monk sent you away.

"It's not difficult to follow your principles in the monastery. You need to prove to yourself the world with its temptations won't drag you back to the darkness you originally came"

So, you left. A lonely traveler something between a Wizard and a Fighter, a dangerous enemy to meet.

And the world doesn't wait long to test your loyalty.

The moment you wake up in the pod, you crash it with your fist.

You do the same to all the pods, trying to save as many people as you can.

The tadpole in your brain tries to control but your mind is sharp and clear.

The parasite will never get you.

You are the most annoying in the camp. You force your companios to exercise and constanly control what they eat.

"Healthy mind in a healthy body!"

And you aren't the one to mess around.

You broke Astarion's hand when he tried to slice his throat and two ribs when he attempted to suck your blood.

"My hands are the ultimate weapon, don't mess with me, friend" you warn him.

But still, you give Astarion your blood. He needs it. You have it. So, you share.

But you warn him not to seduce you. Celibacy is one of the oaths you've given.

Which didn't save you from having a date night in the woods. Be it the tadpole, Astarion's charms, or your own dark desires. You don't know.

But you take a toll on yourself for breaking the rules.

In the meantime, Astarion gets closer to you - finally experiencing affection and love.

He confesses. And you forgive. You aren't angry at him.

But you almost break two more ribs of his when squeze him in your arms.

You've been to dark places. Your past was the same mess. But it doesn't matter now. He can make a choice, too.

You help Astarion kill his master.

"If your oath forbids you from having intimacy, I am okay with that."

But you shrug it away. "Celibacy" wasn't something bestowed upon you. You chose it because it was part of your own darkness.

Your body was given to so many people you lost count.

But, maybe, it isn't bad if you do it to someone you love.

You travel together post-game, searching for answers and testing your principles.

Of course, you've never insisted Astarion should become like you.

But he learned meditation techniques from you to deal with nightmares.

And some self-control tricks not to experience hunger all the time.

Upon return to the monastery, you asked the Head Monk for advice.

"Astarion will test your principles and beliefs till the end of your mortal life. Consider him your very own challenge," the old man laughs, hearing the whole story.

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl@starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstresss @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars

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yeahspider · 1 year

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reassurance🕸️

VE’s note - y’all wanted angsty smut so here we go . nsfw . not proofread . i think the ending is a bit rushed my b . feel free to stop by my inbox with requests . also if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

sometimes you hated that other people had eyes . minho was yours and yours only . so why couldn’t others get that memo . no matter how many marks you left on his neck it was never enough to keep eyes off him . you felt a pout grace your lips . you were never particular bratty but at this party with so many people around . you couldn’t help but want to take minho and hide him away in your bra where he belonged . close to your heart . your grip on his shirt tightened and it caused him to look at you and grin . you knew he enjoyed seeing the pout on your lips because it meant he could kiss it off . his lips pressed a chaste kiss against yours but it wasn’t enough for you . you took his lip between your teeth as he tried to pull away . a light hearted laugh coming from his mouth .

“what’s got you so worked up kitten ?” minho asked once you finally have his lips back to him . you hesitated in telling him the truth , afraid he might tease you for it . his grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer to his body so someone could walk pass you . “cmon i can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.” he said while gripping your chin , pulling your gaze to meet his own . you knew you couldn’t stay mute for long because it would annoy him , but something in you wanted to push him tonight . wanted him to prove that he was yours . so you just kept his glare . you could see the confusion swirling around in his big eyes . next thing you know you’re being dragged into a bathroom and placed on top of a counter with minho standing between your legs .

“what’s going on in that head of yours baby? tell me what you need from me.” you wanted to respond to him , you really did but something was holding you back . “you don’t like other people looking at me do you kitten ? you know i’m yours only . i only have eyes for you.” minho said while running his hands up and down your sides. his attempt to reassure you was appreciated but not enough . and it hurt your heart to admit it .

“let me show you okay . spread your legs wider for me princess.” you followed his instruction the gentle tone he used promoting you to listen . you watched as his hands disappeared under your dress and his fingers brushed against your core . jolts of electricity filtered through your veins as you clenched around nothing . he set a slow torturous pace of rubbing his thumb against your core until a whine left your lips . this wasn’t enough you needed more and minho knew . so without warning he moved your panties to the side pushed two fingers in to your heated cunt . no pain just a pleasant burning sensation as you got used to having his fingers in you . slowly but surely he started pumping in and out trying to give you a chance to get adjusted . you started fucking your hips onto him , until his other hand came up and pressed your hips down . “nuh uh kitten tonight i’m serving you , only my effort will make you come just sit back and relax .” he said in a slightly reprimanding tone . which had you throwing your head back in a moan . his fingers sped up as he pumped in and out of your cunt . you were in heaven as that knot in your stomach started to coil . your climax was soon approaching and you both knew it . so minho placed slow soft kisses on your clit , a stark contrast to his fingers plowing in and out of you. “cmon kitten cum for me.” minho mumbled out on your clit . and with his encouragement you reached your high with a scream . and he didn’t stop, he kept kissing through your orgasm until you were squirming away from him. you pulled his head up to your lips for a kiss , only pulling away when he decided you needed to breathe . once your separate minho helps you back down off the counter . feeling reassured you simply pulled him by his belt loop out the bathroom and back to the party .

“it’s time to go home so i can show you who you belong to.”

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #yeahspider #stray kids headcanons #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids series #lee minho #lee minho smut #lee know #lee know smut #lee know imagines #lee know x reader

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julek · 2 years

Text

Jaskier turns in his bedroll again.

“—fucking winter and its wintery fucking— cold as balls, ice frozen—”

“Jask?”

“—good for nothing— oh.” His tossing stops. The ground is so fucking cold. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

One golden eye peers at him. He would say Geralt looked annoyed, but he can’t see most of his face, tucked as it is under his cloak, so he chooses to interpret it as friendly concern. “Your muttering did.”

Jaskier smiles sheepishly at him, even though Geralt probably can��t see him either, with his scarf tied around his neck and covering most of his face. “Sorry. Just...”

“Can’t sleep?”

Jaskier shakes his head. It’s their fifth year on the Path together, the first one Geralt’s invited him along to spend the winter at Kaer Morhen with him — and Jaskier’s excited, really, but sleeping on the forest floor with a thin bedroll and definitely not enough blankets kind of dampens his spirits a little.

They’ve laid their bedrolls side by side, the fire keeping their feet warm, but still Jaskier can’t fend off the chill that’s seeped into his bones. He would blame it on his frilly, beautifully impractical clothing, with its soft but thin fabrics, with its stunning trim but no insulation, but if he did, he’d basically be agreeing with Geralt, and he can’t have that. Not even in the privacy of his own mind.

(He still hasn’t ruled out the possibility that Witchers are mind-readers). (Geralt is awfully quiet whenever Jaskier brings it up, and, well, one can never be too careful).

So he’s been tossing and turning and singing lullabies to himself in a feeble attempt of finally succumbing to a warm, deep sleep. Not that it’s worked, anyway.

The single golden eye looks considering, now.

“Wha—?” Jaskier manages before Geralt stands up, the bare skin under his sleep shirt immediately reacting to the cold air of the forest and erupting in gooseflesh.

Then, a blanket is being tossed to his face.

(It smells like horse).

“There,” says Geralt, not unkindly, his voice a bit rough. “That’ll help.”

“Well,” Jaskier replies, trying to adjust the blanket without taking his hands out of his bedroll, which proves impossible. “Thanks.”

Before he can sit up straight and, like a sane person, rearrange the blanket on top of himself, Geralt’s doing it for him. His hair is a mess from where he’s been laying on it and he’s squinting, but his hands are warm as they reach for the ends of the blanket and he tucks them into Jaskier’s bedroll, making sure his body is covered.

“You’re tucking me in,” Jaskier whispers, something that suspiciously feels like love standing on his heart a little.

Geralt smiles. He smiles his soft smile, the one where his lips stretch over his face and they’re pink and pretty and there’s a shine in his eyes.

“I guess I am,” he replies, checking no corners have been missed. “We’ll reach the mountain soon. No more cold nights after that.”

Jaskier smiles. He doesn’t know what it might look like on his face, lips chapped and slightly cracked. He hopes it shows his gratitude for him.

Geralt sits back on his haunches. The smile is still there. Fonder, somehow.

“What, no kiss goodnight?” Jaskier murmurs, because he’s an idiot, because he can’t help himself.

“Mm,” Geralt says, and for a second, Jaskier thinks he’s getting up to leave, but then Geralt leans forward and there’s a gentle, sweet kiss being pressed to his forehead. His smile is bigger when he turns away. “There. Goodnight.”

Jaskier can feel the warmth on his skin, the skin Geralt pressed a kiss to. He can feel it seeping into his bones.

When he turns around, blanket firmly secured, Geralt is watching him from his own bedroll.

“Goodnight,” he mouths at him, and Geralt closes his eyes.

His cloak is covering half his face again, but Jaskier can see the smile he’s hiding anyway.

#mywriting #HELLO im alive #was yearning for some soft winter softness in that weird timeline fics were set in between s1 and s2 we all so dearly love #also im cold.#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier ficlet #geraskier fluff

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tyrantisterror · 7 months

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Criticizing the police in a superhero story is kind of straightforward, examples exist, but what about the military in a kaiju story? Like, it's one thing to have the monster be immune to weapons but how do you avoid the usual cliches?

I would say most kaiju movies are pretty critical of the military - and so are a lot of Western giant monsters movies, to a lesser extent. The military is almost always impotent at best in a kaiju movie, rarely accomplishing anything more than stalling for time, and often end up making the situation worse. All the military's actions in the original Godzilla, for example, do nothing but make the monster more pissed off, until his final and most horrible rampage is directly provoked by the military's incredibly thorough and diverse attempt to kill him with every weapon they can think of. That is not a flattering portrayal of the military.

In fact, this trope is so common in the kaiju genre that it wasn't until decades after its inception that people tried to go against it - one of the directors of the 90's Godzilla movies talked about how G-Force in those movies was made because he always felt annoyed as a child that the military never accomplished much, and wanted to have them put up a better fight. Yet even then, MechaGodzilla, Moguera, and the various super xs never win - they come close, but Godzilla proves indomitable in the end.

Victories in kaiju movies overwhelmingly hinge on noncombatants and diplomacy - the happy ending comes from a scientist creating an ingenious invention, or fairies convincing their moth goddess to save our ass, or simply allowing Godzilla to swim off into the sunset when he's done defending his territory from the invasive monster of the week.

Some modern American kaiju pastiches find interesting ways to make the military useful while trying to stick to the themes baked into the genre's bones - Godzilla 2014 has a protagonist who, while in the military, specifically works as a bomb disposal expert, i.e. someone who keeps violence from escalating rather than perpetuate. Said character is drawn as a direct reflection of Godzilla himself in the same movie - heroes defined by their desire to stop a violent situation from exploding rather to destroy for the sake of destroying.

Pacific Rim explicitly focuses on a military organization of pilots in giant robots trying to fend off alien invaders using kaiju as weapons - but in the movie's greatest break from reality, said force is woefully underfunded, stripped to just a handful of robots and pilots. While the Jaegers of Pacific Rim have the trappings of some real world miltiary stuff, I think ultimately they don't resemble the military that much in execution, being more akin to, like, a remnant of an army turned into a guerilla resistance force, and really they make more sense when you take them as a metaphor for the few people actively fighting against climate change in our world (which the movie makes pretty clear is basically the theme, more or less - the aliens are specifically seeking our world out because we've fucked up the environment enough to make it favorable to them). And, ultimately, the Jaegers only manage to get their job done thanks to the help of two very brave scientists.

But, in all honestly, I feel no need to do away with the "cliche" of the impotent military in kaiju flicks. Fuck the military. Show them as incompetent, war-mongering, overfunded and undereffective assholes. Fuck 'em. They get their cocks sucked by every other genre with a budget, they can take a few beatings in the kaiju flicks.

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cozy-and-gentle · 3 months

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A Miguel / Peter B. Parker Sickfic

This is actually a re-upload from my blog that got deleted. Someone prompted me to do it, and I really wish I remember who did so I could tag you again. If you find this post, please let me know. I'd love to reconnect. The fanfic is down below. (I made a longer version. I don't know if I'll ever post it because I'm shy that way.)

A shameless little sickfic between Peter B. Parker and Miguel O'Hara because I'm a sucker for fevers and the sunshine/grumpy trope. And if you're a sucker for these things as well, enjoy!

It started a few days ago.

Hopping dimensions wasn’t an easy job. But someone had to keep the multiverse as together as it could be. It wasn’t about living the way you wanted. It was about keeping a delicate balance. That’s what Miguel told himself, anyway. And thus far, that theory proved correct.

Capture the anomalies. Send them wherever they were supposed to be. Correct the flow of canon. Reach stasis. Like clockwork.

For that week, he ended up in Canada for the Spider Woman of that dimension.

He’d faced all kinds of weather wherever he ended up.

But Canada was a new level of cold that he wasn’t used to.

It was bone-chilling. And this anomaly was a Chameleon variant - a master of disguise no matter which variation.

This meant that Miguel was stuck at Earth-705 for damn near a week trying to hunt him down.

His suit was adaptable to the elements, but at times he had to go incognito to figure out his whereabouts. Meaning he felt every single bit of those negative temperatures. Even in his suit, he could feel the cold air entering his lungs.

Earth-705’s Spider-Woman - aka Spider Canada - was cheerful the entire time. She was one of the sunnier spider people. And in retrospect, he felt a little bad for being grumpier than usual toward her. But he was so damn cold the entire time that all he wanted to do was complete the mission and go back to Spider Society. The faster he did that, the better off they all would be.

All would be safe and he could finally get somewhere warm.

Being in a cold environment like that meant that everything was dry. Miguel noticed it by the second day.

Nueva York got cold, but it had humidity. Or at least enough humidity since the city sat near the ocean.

Miguel felt the absence of humidity in his throat. It was a persistent dryness that water temporarily helped.

But he didn’t truly get used to it. He wondered how anyone could live there.

When he came back to HQ, the dryness persisted.

It took a couple of days for his throat to dry out. Maybe it would take a couple of days to adjust.

That’s what he told himself anyway. It’s not like he was traveling much in his dimension to test that theory. But it was the best he had.

The dry feeling in his throat was annoying. The cough that followed was just as annoying. Short, little coughs in an attempt to clear something that wasn’t there.

All things considered, a little cough was the best thing he could have walked away with considering he’d walked away with far worse in other situations.

Pavitir noticed after working alongside him one day, “You’re not smoking are you?” He teased in good humor.

Miguel scoffed, “No. It’s bad for you.”

The Spider-Man of Mumbattan nodded, and left, but soon came back with a cup, “Here. Good chai can help with anything.”

He wasn’t typically a tea person, but it smelled good. Spiced and warm. The kid meant well, and he thanked him as he took a sip.

It was delicious.

The day after, his cough turned into a productive one. Maybe there was something in his throat that he needed to clear. But hell if that wasn’t annoying.

“You smoking, Miguel?” Jess ribbed him.

“You’re the second person to ask, and no.”

“Second? Maybe you should take a break.”

“I’m fine. Throat’s just irritated.”

“Did you try a cup of tea?”

Miguel sighed.

The cough stayed and he muffled it into the crook of his elbow. Annoying. Especially since it impacted his sleep. He tossed and turned the night before, unable to get comfortable. By the next day, he was tired. And stiff.

He hated it. But all he had was surveillance. All things considered, it was quiet again which let Miguel breathe a temporary sigh of relief. Still, he was vigilant. Someone had to be.

And maybe it was the exhaustion but the screens seemed to blur ever so slightly. Like there was a soft haze around them.

Miguel closed his eyes tight, pressing his hand over his eyes in an attempt to get them to focus.

Get it together, O’Hara.

His eyes would focus on the orange glow before they blurred again. He couldn’t remember the last time when he was this tired. Maybe grad school?

He stared at the different sectors of Spider Society. Spider People coming and going. Laughing. Talking. There was nothing so damning that pulled his attention.

So he closed his eyes with a heavy sigh to rest them.

Peter B. Parker had a ritual going on with Miguel O’Hara. He was one of the few that was able to besides Jess. He’d come in to check on him with breakfast in hand. Today was a couple of egg sandwiches on a croissant and two cups of tea. Jess mentioned he seemed to have an irritated throat, so he switched it up.

Peter pushed his office door open with his hip to find Miguel sitting in front of the screens. He usually would in the early hours. Not all the time. But sometimes.

“Hey Miguel,” he said cheerfully.

The other man didn’t move and this made Peter stop. Miguel didn’t respond for two reasons. Either he was engulfed in something, or angry. So he decided for a lighter approach as he walked up, “Hope you like egg sandwiches. Wasn’t sure if you’d like bacon or sausage so whichever one you want, I’ll take the other.”

He slowly put the bag beside him along with the cup, only to find that Miguel had his eyes closed.

His brow slowly raised and a small smile came to his face. Miguel was sleeping. This was rare.

Peter put a hand on his shoulder, “Miguel, hey. Buddy, I brought breakfast.”

Miguel opened his eyes with a sharp intake of air which made him start coughing. He quickly covered it with his elbow.

“Ah, that’s what the tea’s for,” Peter mused as he slid it over in his direction, “Here. It has honey already. This should help.”

Miguel stared at the cup, then Peter with… it wasn’t quite a glare. It was somewhere between annoyance and a pout as he wrapped his hands around the cup with a sigh that sounded pleased.

Peter raised a brow, “How was Earth-705?”

Miguel took a sip of tea, then squinted his eyes as a sneer curled on his lips, “Freezing.”

His voice sounded like it was struggling to claw its way out of his throat.

Peter winced at the sound of it, “That’s rough,” he said as he sat beside the other man, pulling out the sandwiches, “This one’s bacon, this one’s sausage,” he slid them over, “You didn’t get sick, did you?”

Miguel shook his head quickly, “Spider Man doesn’t get sick.”

Peter let out a short, sardonic laugh, “Spider Man doesn’t get sick often,” he corrected, “I got sick way more before I got my powers. It doesn’t happen a lot anymore but when it does, strap in.”

Miguel took the bacon sandwich and unwrapped it, staring at it before taking a bite.

“Trust me,” Peter said, “I got the flu about 5 years ago, I think?” He unwrapped the sausage sandwich and took a bite, talking around it, “Glad it was me and not MJ. People were out of commission for a couple of months sometimes,” he swallowed it and took a sip of his tea, “Thanks to the healing factor, I was out for two weeks. Still a while, but not months. Everyone seems to forget that the flu can kill people, you know?”

Miguel nodded as he chewed slowly, “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, but if you need some time off you know one of us will fill in.”

Miguel grumbled and dismissively waved his hand.

There was a moment of silence before he murmured, “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Always, Miggy,” Peter said as he gave his shoulder a friendly pat.

It was a tame day, but by the end of it, he felt like he was struggling. He was so tired. His head was starting to throb, and he was cold. It was a small chill at first. He had Lyla turn up the temperature a degree. It helped for an hour until it didn’t. And he knew it wasn’t freezing in the room. It just felt that way.

He tightened his muscles to hold those shivers at bay if anyone entered. But by the end of the day, he was too exhausted to do even that.

But no one dared enter his office.

The only person was Peter, who peeked his head in the door, “Hey, just wanted to see if you wanted to grab dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Peter slowly made his way in, “Not hungry? C’mon, it’s been hours since lunch. Something’s gotta sound good.”

Miguel shook his head, “I’ll get something later.” He really wished Peter would leave. But he was insistent as he closed the gap between them. He leaned on his desk as he began listing off, “Ah, c’mon. At least take something with you. You don’t want anything? Mexican? Japanese? Indian? Chinese?” He glanced over at Miguel then looked surprised, “Are you shivering?”

“I’m cold,” he grumbled.

“It’s not cold in here. Kinda warmer than usual, actually.”

Miguel was ready to shoo him away when an anomaly alert lit up his screens.

Both men looked over when Lyla popped up and said, “Crossover anomaly on Earth 2851. Shocker from Earth 926.”

Normally, Miguel was a workaholic, but he was hoping that it was the end of the day. He pushed himself up, rubbing at his sore neck muscles, “Alright,” his voice crackled, as his mask appeared on his face.

Peter quickly began to shrug off his robe and sweatpants, “Are you sure you’re up for this, Miguel? I can grab someone else–”

“I’ll be fine,” He said quickly as he typed in his destination on his watch. A portal soon opened in front of them.

“Okay…” Peter hesitated as he pulled on his mask, “Lead the way, boss.”

Out of all the villains and anomalies he faced with Miguel, this one wasn’t the most difficult. But it was a trying mission all the same. They may have been able to apprehend the Shocker anomaly sooner if it wasn’t for the rain.

Not only did it mess with their visibility, but it amplified the Shocker’s abilities. What could have taken them fifteen minutes tops stretched into an hour and a half.

The Spider Woman of that dimension helped immensely and they were able to send the shocker back to his dimension.

Neither of them had injuries, but Miguel had been shocked a few times which led to his suit glitching. And both men were soaking wet.

As soon as they landed in HQ, Peter pulled off his mask with a gasp, “I swear this thing was about to waterboard me.”

Miguel didn’t say anything as he trudged back toward his office.

Peter was quick to follow him. He needed to get his robe and sweatpants which would come in handy since his suit was soaked. And if Miguel wasn’t hungry before, he had to be hungry now. A perfect time for dinner.

“Good job by the way. I know your suit got jacked up, but you didn’t get hurt, did you?”

Miguel continued to trudge forward.

“Okay, we’ll give you a once-over behind closed doors. But if you’re still standing, that’s a good sign! Now, what do you want for dinner?” Peter attempted to wring out part of his suit, letting the excess water drip to the ground, “Ugh, I’m kind of cold. What do you think about soup?”

As soon as they crossed the threshold of the office, the doors closed behind them and Miguel made his way toward his computer.

Peter quickly worked to pull off his suit, grabbing his robe and sweatpants, wrapping himself in them, “Whew, that’s better. You have a change of clothes here, right?”

Miguel didn’t answer as he stared at the screens.

Peter raised a brow as he came to the other man’s side, “Hey… are you okay? You’re starting to worry me.”

Miguel’s mask dissolved and he glanced over, “I’m fine,” in a barely-there voice.

Peter’s eyes widened at his appearance. He looked exhausted and his brown skin had an ashen cast to it. Before Peter could point any of this out, Miguel’s eyes rolled back and his body pitched forward.

–

Miguel’s eyes slowly fluttered open, Peter’s face coming into focus. The other man was pressing a cool cloth to his cheek.

Peter let out a huge breath, “There you are…”

Miguel’s brow creased in confusion. The last thing he remembered was going back to his computer after the mission. Then, somehow he ended up in his own bed.

He was dry, tucked in, and warm.

He was finally warm.

He tried to push himself up, but Peter held a firm hand to his chest, “Easy, Miguel, you need to rest.”

Miguel went to ask what the hell happened, but his throat was so raw that he ended up coughing instead.

Peter sighed as he rubbed at his chest with a soft circular motion until he stopped. Miguel tried to say something again, but could only wince and clear his throat.

Peter pressed the cloth to his other cheek. And as if he could read his mind, he quietly said, “You collapsed, right after our mission, burning with fever. I had to get Spider Doctor and he said you have pneumonia,” He folded the cloth and lay it against his forehead, “You should have sat out! You didn’t have to wait until you got this bad!”

Miguel sighed and glanced aside.

Peter sighed as well, “I know you’re laser-focused on saving everyone, but you can’t help anyone like this,” he pressed his hand to his cheek, “You’re still burning up.”

Miguel turned his eyes towards Peter with narrowed brows.

“Don’t give me that look,” Peter said, “Do you know how scary it was to see you faint like that?! I’m the one who should be glaring at you!”

Miguel stubbornly looked away and Peter crossed his arms.

They sat in silence for a long time.

Not that Miguel had much of a choice on that one.

Then he could feel the chills creeping up on him again, and he shivered as they sapped away that blessed heat that he didn’t have nearly enough time to enjoy.

Peter looked at him with a worried expression, “You’re cold again?”

Peter was surprised to see a look on Miguel’s face that could only be described as a miserable pout.

“Here. Scoot over,” he murmured as he shrugged off his robe.

Miguel looked at him suspiciously. Peter moved him over as he scooted into bed behind him, holding him close, and resting his chin on his shoulder, “I can’t give you any more blankets, but I hope this helps. And when you’re ready for it, I got you some soup. And more tea.”

Miguel wanted to point out he had more tea that week than he’d ever had in his life. But it didn’t matter. Not when Peter was so warm against him. He turned and snuggled against the other man’s chest with a soft sigh, marveling at the feeling of his fingers carding through his hair.

Maybe he would have admitted his weakness sooner if he knew this was waiting for him.

Maybe.

But he would never tell Peter that. Instead, Miguel would soak up that moment while he had it, letting Peter’s scent, and warmth, and touch envelope him.

Before more missions and more chaos. Before Peter had to go back to his own family.

For the moment, the other man was his.

And he swore it was a little less cold with him there.

#sickfic #peter b parker #miguel o'hara #spiderdads #atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #my writing #fanfiction

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justhere4thevibez · 10 months

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I have a drabble request (and if it’s not your cup of tea that’s totally fine) could you write something where Max and Erica both roast Eddie about his obvious crush on Chrissy? I love how you write the Max/Eddie dynamic and I’d love to see Erica too!

Erica is a very intimidating character to me 😅 she has such a distinctive voice, I'm always afraid I won't be able to capture it. Same with Argyle, which is why they both rarely if ever appear in my fics. But here's my attempt ,just for you, nonny! (gosh, these are getting wayyy longer than drabbles. oh well)

---

Usually, the drama room was a sanctuary for Eddie. A safe haven from the swirling storm of high schoolers just outside its doors. A quiet corner where he could ditch his classes and remain blissfully alone.

Usually.

Today, his peaceful refuge was rudely disturbed by not one, but two nuisances.

“Lying isn’t going to get us to back off,” Max said with a roll of her eyes. “You know that, right?”

“I’m not—” he cleared his throat to get rid of his voice crack. “I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are,” Erica said, folding her arms. “Straight through your teeth. You like Chrissy Cunningham, and you’re too chicken to do anything about it.”

“Fuck off,” he said, rubbing his forehead. These idiots were giving him a headache. “If you want to play matchmaker, go bother somebody else.”

“We’re not playing matchmaker,” Max said, idly rolling her skateboard across the floor. “We just think you should stop being so pathetic and ask her out.”

“I am not asking out the fucking Queen of Hawkins High,” Eddie hissed, giving them a glare that would’ve shaken most of his sheep.

Unfortunately, it had absolutely zero effect on these two.

“But she broke up with her boyfriend,” Max said emphatically.

“And she doesn’t have a date for prom,” Erica added smugly. “We heard it in the bathroom.”

“We?” Eddie shot her a frustrated look. “You don’t even go here, little Sinclair. How the hell did you hear anything from the high school girls’ bathroom?”

“I’m on a field trip,” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.

“And we also know,” Max cut in smoothly. “That she looks at you almost as much as you look at her. So there.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Eddie said, forcefully squashing down that small feeling of hope rising in his chest.

“You’re not denying you like her anymore.” Max smirked. “That sure as hell proves something.”

“Out!” Eddie pointed forcefully toward the door. “Both of you. Now.”

Erica leveled him with a glare. “Not until you promise to talk to Chrissy.”

“No.” He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I can’t.”

Ask out Chrissy Cunningham? The most perfect, wonderful girl in the world? The girl who couldn’t possibly know he even existed? Not a fucking chance.

“Are you really going to finally graduate Hawkins High without even trying to go to prom?” Max asked. “Come on. Stick it to the man, or whatever you say that gets you out of bed in the morning.”

“Fuck you.”

“Right back at you.” Max glared at him until he backed down. “You just have to talk to her, jeez. Is that so hard?”

“It’s just—not that simple,” he said, his hands hanging limp at his sides. “She’s everything. And I’m nothing.”

“You’re only nothing if you don’t try, loser,” Erica said, putting her hands on her hips. “Now get. Off. Your. Ass.”

Why did they have to make so much goddamn sense (and be so fucking annoying while they did so)? What was the point of being the school rebel if he wasn’t willing to take a risk? Just this once.

“You know what? Fine.” Eddie marched toward the drama room door. “I’ll ask her. And you two, get the fuck off my back.”

They gave him their solemn oaths of honor, which he didn’t believe for a moment. Then he marched off into battle.

Send a prayer for the lowly freak, Eddie thought to himself as he passed a prop cross. He’s going to need it.

Max and Erica grinned at each other once the door swung shut behind him.

“Ten bucks says he runs away before he gets a full sentence out,” Erica said as she headed for the door.

Max hopped on her skateboard with a grin. “Twenty says I can trip him before he makes it five feet.”

“You’re on.”

---

P.S. any other requests will be answered tomorrow (ish)!

#hellcheer #hellcheer drabble #eddie munson #max mayfield #erica sinclair #vibez answers

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rise-my-angel · 3 months

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The thing with R/L shippers and their annoying push back when anyone brings up the super dark undertones of that relationship is that they have convinced themselves the show depiction of R/L is more or less what will happen in the books/is GRRM's intent. Which is hilarious because the people who ship R/L are almost always Dany/targ stans who think Dany breaking bad, being the final villain, and Jon/the Starks being antagonistic to her and taking her down was complete Benioff and Weiss fanfic. Which...lmao...I have a bridge to sell them.

In general, I've noticed this with the remaining book fandom, there is very much an undertone in their 'theories' and 'speculations' of 'everything I liked in the last four seasons of GOT totally came from GRRM and will totally happen in the books, and everything I didn't like was total fanfic, not Martin's intention at all, and will not happen.' Which, once again lmaooo and good luck with that!

Side note, the show depiction of R/L was hilarious. The writers had to magic away Rhaegar's marriage in one of the dumbest plot points on that show, and then attempted to magic away Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon's existence/deaths. They also had to magic away Rickard and Brandon's existence/deaths. Gave zero explanation as to why and how and what happened between R/L. The writers really made R and L into two sociopaths who they wanted viewers to romanticize, but only the opposite ended up happening. The absolute dragging they received from the fandom was INSANE lmao.

Anyway, I think the lack of any development of R and L by the writers to the point where Jon didn't even state how he felt about their relationship might indicate that the book version Benioff and Weiss were told was problematic and they just didn't want to open up that can of worms. But instead their writing choices made R and L even more hated and worse than I think GRRM intended. Just the most hilarious writing choices.

The fact that where the first substantial introduction to the nuances of this plot was scrapped entirely tells me that Benioff and Weiss had no idea what kind of character they wanted Rhaegar to be. We don't truly see anything of the Tower of Joy until late in season 6 in some half baked Bran Greensight vision. But if they did it properly, that Tower of Joy scene should have been all the way in season 1.

Open episode 6 of season 1 with the Tower of Joy flashback as it is depicted in the books. Then slowly transition into Ned waking up in bed after his fight in the street with Jaime Lannister. That is how early in the books the seeds of that mystery were planted, but they never even begun to tackle it until the end of season 6.

Which is bizarre, beacuse they actually shot themselves in the foot already. Show Robert is so much more nuanced of a character in his book counterpart. The way he talks about Rhaegar and the way he lements a genuine heartache over Lyanna is so much more dynamic then what we got from book Robert.

What I could critizise from the books, should have been fixed in the show. They proved they could. They turned what is a pretty black and white unlikeable character in Robert to someone who is as problematic as he is tragic. He is so much more human and that should have been the perfect set up happening at the same time Ned is beginning to experience his traumatic dreams and flashbacks about Lyannas death.

That despite Roberts heartbreak, there is something so much darker then Ned is letting on that is now spiralling him into having consistent trauma reactions over it.

If this were a love story, why would Ned twenty years later be so utterly haunted by it in a way he had long since pushed down?

Also the annulment is...I don't have words for how impossible it is.

I'd literally have to make a whole separate post to explain why that annulment subplot literally could never have happened.

And like, Jon had no reaction because they did not care about using it properly. The revelation of who Jons mother is has always been about Jons personal journey with identity, and making sense the parts of his father he never understood and the sacrifices he made to protect him. It's supposed to be about Jon realizing he was never the bastard who accidentally ruined his fathers honour. It's about Jon realizing he had a mother who loved him and watched over him in their home his entire life, and that Ned Stark chose Jon to be his son all on his own.

It's about Jon learning his mother died loving him feircly begging to keep him safe, and that Jon wasn't Neds son by accident. He was Neds son by choice out of love.

But they only used it to fuel half baked drama about the Iron Throne because at that point all Jon was there to do, was act as an accesory on Danys arm. He was no longer his own character by then so of course he has no reaction. He wasn't told because it was meant to impact him. Jons secret was revealed soley to add drama to Dany's narrative.

R+L=J was never meant to be about Jon's Targaryean side. It was meant to be about Jon learning he had a mother who died protecting him, and that Ned chose to ruin his own reputation because he decided to raise and love Jon as his own.

It was supposed to be about Jon learning who his mother is, why she isn't here, and how that heals all of the hurt left behind that Jon didn't understand about Ned.

It was never supposed to be about Rhaegar or the Targaryeans.

But I mean the second I saw they aged Lyanna up to the the oldest in the show I checked out. I knew they did that beczuse they couldn't portray a 14-15 year old girl marrying a 25+ year old man without the obvious implciations of at the very least, grooming a minor.

They knew this wasn't a romance, but that is too hard of a story to tell, a forbidden romance is so much easier. It was done only out of convience. They had to do something about that mystery, and so they took the easiest route and only ever mentioned it when it pertianed to adding drama to Dany's personal narrative.

#game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #anti rhaegar targaryen #anti rhaegar stans #anti rhaegar x lyanna #anti daenerys targaryen #anti targaryen #jon snow #eddard stark #lyanna stark #long post

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a-lonely-dunedain · 5 months

Text

finally! the long put off awaited continuation of the Reverse Amnesia Loop I left on an unfortunate cliffhanger despite promising @hallothere I would continue it! (oops) Wherein Tossdir doing something reckless actually ends up helping yay

sorry my brain stopped letting me Write Words for a bit. again. anyway I feel like I'm rusty but idk. this kept getting So Long.

He knows.

You have no idea how, but he knows.

The man you ran into on the street a few moments ago, the one built like a siege tower, looked at you a bit strangely before you took off. You didn’t think much of it, but then he called after you, and when you started running, so did he.

You can only think of one reason he would be pursuing you, and that is that he somehow knows you stole that relic from the Houses of Lore earlier today.

You didn’t think anyone would have noticed it was gone so soon, you didn’t think anyone would have been able to track you down so quickly. You figured you would be able to stay out of sight until tonight, and then no one would have any way of knowing it was you. But you couldn’t stay locked in the cisterns all day, you needed food, but you realize you made a mistake in coming out here.

You duck and weave between vendor stalls and stacks of crates in an effort to lose him. For a moment you think it works, but the next moment you see him still on your tail.

Really, you shouldn’t even be running. You don’t have the relic with you, you’ve already hidden it far away so there’s no longer any risk to anyone here. If he catches you he might turn you over to the guards, but they’ll just forget, and you’ll be able to slip away tonight like you did the last time something like this happened.

You nearly knock over someone's produce display in your haste, and you sputter out an apology to the owner without slowing your pace.

The sensible thing to do would simply be to turn yourself over and spend the rest of the day locked up –hell, you might even get a meal out of it– but you are operating on instinct now, which has ever held mastery over what little sense is contained in that thick skull of yours. Currently, it has decided that you’re going to behave like a scared rabbit. Maybe you would be a little braver if you had your friends with you, if Ethedis Faeron or Bregadir were here, but you do not have friends or a family anymore. They do not know you.

When fleeing into the crowded areas proves fruitless, you duck into an alleyway and attempt to lose him in the narrow backstreets. This would be easier if you knew the ways of the city better, but unfortunately, you do not.

Still, you manage to lose sight of him for a little bit. You stop with your hands on your knees, gasping for breath. Did you lose him? You might have lost him- wait no, there he is.

You hiss obscenities under your breath that Meneldir would have scolded you for, and take off again.

You may be faster than him, but he is far more persistent. Always a few steps behind you, always. You know you won’t be able to outlast him. You stumble, fall, and land on your leg crooked. You find yourself unable to stand right away, then not two moments later the tall man is kneeling in front of you.

You flinch when his hand grips your shoulder, but he doesn't seem to have it in mind to hurt you just yet, just holding you in place in case you plan to start running again.

“Alright, now that I have your attention,” his voice is calm and steady, he’s not even breathing hard. Looks like he did not break a sweat in the chase. You find yourself more terrified of him. “care to tell me what that was all about?” he asks calmly, seeming more annoyed and confused than anything else.

You just blink in bewilderment. Does he… does he not know about the stolen relic? Then why would he have bothered following you? Also why is his hand so cold?

“I could- ask the same thing of you-” you manage to gasp out. “Why on earth were you chasing me?”

“I needed to speak to you, and I would not have chased you if you did not run. I did not mean to frighten you, but it was important. Now, I think you owe me an answer or two.”

After taking a moment to steady your breathing you mutter under your breath “Doesn't matter. You will not remember anyway.”

“What did you say?” he asks almost before the words have left your mouth. Did it sound like you were making some kind of veiled threat? It might have, it was probably a mistake saying that out loud.

“It’s- there is something wrong with me.” you stammer, “Every night, people forget I exist. It’s some sort of-”

“-a curse?” recognition and dread in his voice.

You nod. He releases your shoulder, and his expression becomes much softer. Sad, too.

“Not you too…” he says with a weary sigh. “I felt that chill when I ran into you on the street, I thought you might have some connection to it. Sorry to see I was right.”

“You were cursed too...?” That would explain why you didn’t recognize him, despite how much like a Ranger he looks and sounds. Your heart sinks into your stomach at the realization that another of your kin has fallen into this fate. Had he gone to Mordor with you? Or was he cursed when you foolishly brought the relic back to the city? Either way this is probably your fault. You feel sick.

He nods solemnly. “Then I am doubly sorry for frightening you. I imagine this has been a trying few weeks for you already.” you nod again, though seems like a bit of an understatement. “Although, that still does not explain why you ran from me. I know I can be rather intimidating at times, but surely it was not just that.”

You take a deep breath. You have a lot of explaining to do, and you’re not sure how he’s going to react

“I guess there’s no sense in hiding it from you. I stole a relic from the houses of lore earlier today, and I thought you had somehow found out and were after me for that reason.”

Corunir just looks at you for a moment, searching your expression in the hopes that what you said was merely a poor jest. To his dismay, he finds you are being dead-serious "Please tell me you're not talking about the relic I think you're talking about... The one I retrieved from Mordor."

"No, I'm talking about the one I retrieved from Mordor."

The two of you make eye contact for an uncomfortably long moment.

"...The one we retrieved from Mordor."

He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration "I sincerely hope you had a good reason for taking it. How many more people might be exposed to it-"

"What about the scholars? Were they not at risk too?” you quickly point out “That is the reason I took it, so I could hide it someplace safer."

He shakes his head with an exasperated sigh “It was safer in the Houses. No one was allowed near it, it was only myself, Ethedis, and presumably you who were ever let in there. No one else-”

“-No one that we know of.” you snap a look at him, sharp enough to cut stone. “If any of the other scholars, or anyone else on the Sage’s Tier had been cursed, would we have any way of knowing?”

"No, I suppose we..." he trails off, then a look of horror slowly creeps onto his face “I… I fear you may be onto something. How did I not realize before… I remember bringing the relic to the Houses for safekeeping, but I cannot remember who specifically I handed it off to when I arrived. How could I have been so foolish…” Now that he mentions it, you realize you share the same gap in your memory. At least one other person besides the two of you has been cursed then.

“Perhaps the curse itself is what prevented you from seeing it?” you offer “It seems quite good at concealing memories, after all.”

He looks away and mutters something under his breath “Yeah. It was probably the curse.” His voice is flat, he doesn't sound like he really believes that.

But in all fairness, you think it is perfectly likely that the curse may be covering its tracks, clouding his judgment to prevent him from putting the pieces together or something like that. Of course you cannot provide any proof to that theory besides ‘it just kinda makes sense’, but he strikes you as an intelligent man, and you have a hard time believing he wouldn’t have figured this out sooner unless something was actively hindering him. If he and Ethedis had been spending more time around the relic than you, it makes a lot of sense.

Wait, Ethedis?

“Hold on, did you say Ethedis had been near it?”

“You know her?”

“Of course I do! She’s my best friend- well, was, at least. Don’t tell me you actually let her near that thing…”

“Only twice, and only because she insisted. I had hoped that between the two of us we could break the enchantment quickly, and I would not need to risk her being around it for long. But this has proved far more complicated…” and now you’ve gone and complicated things further.

“I guess I’m in no position to judge you for that then, considering my own reckless actions…”

“Well, do you have it with you?”

“Alright I’m not that reckless, give me a little credit at least. It’s hidden away in the cisterns. They were the only place I could think of to put it. Few venture down there and sections of it extend deep into the mountains. I thought there at least it might be far enough away from anyone else.”

“I see why you did it, but that’s going to be a big problem for us… I would likely need the relic on hand if I am to have any hope of breaking the curse, and if I will not remember having this conversation, then I will likely never find it again. Please tell me you had some sort of plan.”

“I… hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’m no loremaster, I know nothing about curses, my only concern had been trying to hide it away-”

“Then there is no time to lose.” he stands, offering you a hand to help you to your feet “Take me to where you’ve hidden the relic, I will simply have to find a way to break the curse before tonight.”

“That hardly seems a ‘simple’ task…” you test your leg a bit as he helps you stand. It still aches a little bit, but not badly. You should be able to walk this off. “Did you have some new breakthrough?”

“Not exactly. But there was one thing I had not attempted yet, perhaps for good reason. I was reluctant to try before, as I feared it might pose a risk to the nearby scholars if my theory was correct… but seeing as the relic is isolated in the cisterns, I will not need to worry about that.”

“Oh good, Something dangerous then!” you smile grimly “what is it you plan on doing?”

“I will explain on the way, we should be going now.”

Reasonably, you might want to learn what this man you only think you know is planning before venturing down into the cisterns with him, but since when were you ever considered reasonable?

So nevertheless, you start leading him to the nearest entrance to the cisterns. You notice some strange looks from a few people on the street who witnessed your chase earlier, but neither of you pay them much heed. You’ve gotten out of the habit of caring about your reputation, subconsciously assuming nothing will be remembered.

The two of you properly introduce yourselves as you walk. You learn that his name is Corunir, and he was once a part of Golodir’s Company. Apparently he was the one who first called for aid from the south, and helped you and Ethedis discover the secrets of the stone hearts of the Watchers. You thought it had been one of the Trév Gállorg you first spoke to in Aughaire, but you don’t actually remember who it was now that you think about it. That at least adds up with his story then.

“You know of the stone hearts?” he asks, almost surprised.

“Yes, I was there with Ethedis when we first discovered their secrets and crossed the Rammas.”

“Hm. it is as I thought, then. The three of us must have fought together in the War, as I remember the same thing only without you.”

“That’s what I thought too. But what do the Watching Stones have to do with any of this?”

“I’ll admit it’s a stretch, but I’ve suspected that the relic might actually be of a similar nature to the stone hearts. Not the same thing of course, or I would have recognized it immediately, but an item designed to hold a different kind of fell spirit perhaps.”

You do agree it’s a stretch. The relic seemed nothing like a stone heart. For one thing, it’s not even a stone. It is a small, seemingly empty, iron box you couldn’t open. An air of fell magic surrounded it, but it did not have the same sort of… feeling. It wasn’t the same as the stone hearts. The heart made you feel sick when you touched it, a nauseous dread in the pit of your stomach that threatened to rile up into blind panic. The box from Mordor though, was just cold. Not a natural kind of cold, but that’s still all it was. Deceptively harmless.

But, Corunir seems to know more about this sort of thing than you do, perhaps he could pick up on something you could not.

“So, if you’re right about this, I might actually be able to fistfight the source of the curse? Finally, something suited to my skill set!”

He laughs grimly “Perhaps, but we should still be cautious. I have never heard of a spirit with powers such as these, if we must do battle with it we should be prepared for anything. There’s no telling how powerful it truly is, if it is indeed a spirit we’re dealing with.”

“You don’t need to kill my confidence like that.”

“Overconfidence is far more likely to kill you.” he observes plainly

You almost scoff, not quite though “You sound like my brother.”

He raises an eyebrow “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

You shrug “it’s both, I think.”

You come to the door leading down to the cisterns and open it. Home sweet home, or at least it has been for the last few weeks.

“Aren’t these usually locked?” Corunir asks, following close behind you.

You glance back at him “They are, but I broke the lock and no one ever fixed it.”

His brow furrows, and you’re not sure why he seems so concerned “So they even forget about the things we touch now…?” he mutters, seemingly not directed at you.

“It’s probably not that.” you rush to assure, though he might be onto something “with everything else down here that was damaged in the siege, I’m sure something small like this was just very low on the list of priorities.” you shake your head as you continue down the dark, damp steps. You know the way down well enough that you do not bother waiting for your eyes to adjust to the dark before venturing deeper in. “At any rate, even if it is the curse’s doing, we will not give it the chance to progress any further.” you sound as confident as ever, but it does not seem to be rubbing off on your ‘new’ friend. He says nothing.

He remains mostly silent as you make your way further beneath the city. Going down here from the bustling streets of the city is always a jarring change, the stone suffocates any sound from up top, and all at once you are accompanied only by the echoing of your footsteps, the occasional drip of cold water, and stale musty air.

“Do you have a weapon?" he eventually asks, only just now seeming to notice that you're unarmed "We’re expecting a fight after all, I should hope you have some means to defend yourself.”

“I will not need anything besides my arms. I’m a brawler, far more comfortable with hand-to-hand fighting.” Well, that might have been true a few months ago, but at Bregadir's urging after Tur-Morva you have preferred to use your sword more frequently, especially when you face foes of an inhuman variety. But you do not have that option now. You notice Corunir giving you a doubtful look in the halflight.

“...what? You doubt that I can banish a spirit by hitting it really hard?” you realize how ridiculous your plan sounds when said aloud, but you choose to ignore it. And besides, in your defense, you have punched spirits before. Fists are far more effective in situations like this than many would initially believe.

“Do you at least own a sword?" His voice is clearly filled with worry, and you're not sure whether you should feel insulted or comforted by it. "I think I would feel better if you had the option of wielding one should the need arise.”

“I do but…” You try to hide the pained expression that crosses your face at the mention of it, but fail. “I… do not have it at the moment.” you reluctantly admit “Earlier I tried to go to Mithrendan for help, but I did a poor job of explaining myself. He recognized my sword as once belonging to my mother, but as he had no memory of me it seemed to him that I must have stolen it or worse… he actually got me arrested for it, and I imagine my sword is still in his possession, though he now has no memory of how it came to be there.” You make a short humorless laugh, as you fear you may cry if you do not express some other emotion “for some reason I thought yelling at him might break through whatever fog concealed his memory, but all I succeeded in doing was causing quite the scene while I was being dragged away. I guess I’m almost lucky no one remembers that…”

He gives you a sad, sympathetic look, "I'm sorry to hear that. I've had similar incidents occur, but I have been fortunate enough to keep all my belongings..."

You shrug nonchalantly “Well, at least I know it’s being kept somewhere safe!” you want to change the subject quickly, you don’t want his pity right now. "Anyway, there was something else I was meaning to ask you," you move on abruptly "If we're right in assuming we both journeyed to Mordor together, why did you choose to join the Conquest?"

"It's strange, I actually cannot remember the reason I went to Mordor, only that it seemed important at the time. Do you remember why you went though?" your heart sinks, you know why he has forgotten.

"I do. it was ill-thought and reckless, but I at least remember making that decision... if you do not, then..." you suddenly find yourself unable to look Corunir in the eyes "then I must have been the reason you went. So I got you into this mess. I'm so sorry- this was all my fault-"

"No, it was not." he assures, voice stern but gentle "If I followed you to Mordor, I did so of my own volition. And I doubt it was by your decision alone that we brought the relic back to the city. Do not assign so much blame to yourself, especially as neither of us remember the full story of how we got here."

"Right... you're probably right." Faeron was right too, sometimes you really do sound too much like Meneldir. That does little to ease the shame you feel, but at least Corunir doesn't blame you as he probably should be.

"More than anything, I'm just glad to know you remember your reasons for making the journey," Corunir continues "I was beginning to worry there may have been more like us."

"I suppose that counts as a silver lining..." you mumble. You recognize this turn up ahead "Ah, it looks like we're nearly to my camp, the relic is hidden there."

“Your camp...?” he looks confused “You've been sleeping down here?”

“Well, obviously, it’s not like I could rent a room at a tavern, I would be forgotten by morning. Where on earth have you been sleeping?”

He pauses for a moment “I… have been waiting until after the curse takes effect to rent a room.” ah, a much more obvious solution that never crossed your mind. He spoke gently, trying not to make you seem like a fool, yet you feel a fool all the same.

“...oh. That’s a good idea, I should have thought of that. A shame I’m not going to remember it.” you sigh “I wonder if we have had this conversation before…” knowing you? Probably.

“You will not have to remember. After we fix this mess, things can finally go back to normal.” he sounds less sure of himself than you would like, but it’s the thought that counts.

Not too long after, you arrive at the place that could only charitably be called a 'camp'. It's in one of the large chambers, positioned on a wide walkway near a reservoir. Just your bedroll, a small amount of scattered provisions, and a spot you had attempted to make a campfire to keep warm. You've since given up on maintaining that, though. It was far too much of a hassle to find and transport fuel down here, and fire does little, if anything at all, to stave off the curse's chill.

"You will have to excuse the mess, I was not expecting visitors." you say dryly, taking out the small bundle of rags you had the relic hidden in and unwrapping it. Intricate carvings adorn the surface of the small box, expertly crafted but of vile subject, they depict scenes of violent deaths and creatures you would rather not describe, runes you only half understand but wish you didn’t understand at all.

You hand it to Corunir, almost glad to have it off your hands despite how long you had spent trying to get it in the first place. A look of discomfort flashes on his face as he touches it, and he takes a sharp breath to steady his nerves.

"Alright, I suppose there's only one way to test my theory then. Are you ready?" you nod, you're ready as you're ever going to be, which isn't really saying much if you're being honest, but what else are you going to do?

Corunir sets the box down in an empty part of the floor and kneels in front of it, sword held at the ready with one arm and shield on the other. He closes his eyes and mutters some words in an old elvish dialect, the meaning of them you know not, but you have heard them before. They are the same words of power that were spoken by Ethedis all those months ago in Angmar, to draw fourth the spirit of a Watching Stone for you to challenge.

For a moment there is nothing. No sound or movement or any other sign of change. You begin to worry that it isn't-

Suddenly all warmth leaves the chamber. An icy blue light fills the area from an unknown source, illuminating the box with a ghostly glow. It feels as if the very air has frozen around you and you cannot remember the sensation of heat. Corunir shoots to his feet, holding out his shield in front of him. "That was it! Prepare yourself!" he shouts.

You assume your fighting stance just as the lid of the box flies open, a spectral figure bursting forth with an animalistic fury in its bright eyes. It is not dissimilar from other ghosts or spirits you have encountered, although it stands (floats?) a whole head and shoulders taller than most. It says nothing, but a feeling of unmistakable hatred emanates from it. You feel that it goes beyond the general spite for the living most spirits possess, it is clearly also angry that someone removed it from the populace areas of the city, surely foiling whatever plans it had for the unsuspecting people.

It outstretches its hand, drawing the dampness in the surrounding air to its fingertips and freezing it into a jagged blade of ice, and then it turns its hateful eyes to you. It knows you trapped it down here, and you know it has every intention of delivering you to a cruel death.

No going back, it has been unleashed and you must end it here and now. You don't really know if banishing the spirit will break the curse, and you know know if the breaking of the curse will necessarily restore everyone's memories. Maybe you will remain forgotten, maybe you will die down here, but if you can at least ensure that no one else falls prey to this thing, it will all be worth it.

You will not wait for it to make the first move. You lunge at it with all the speed you can muster and connect your fist with its chest. As you make contact with it you feel as if you have plunged your hand into icy water, a sharp jolt of pain and then numbness running through your arm. But, remarkably, you still did some damage to it. As the spirit reels back from the impact you feel heartened, now seeing that it is corporeal enough for you to harm. It’s short lived however as the spirit looks back at you with fell sorcery in its gaze. You find yourself unable to move, your feet frozen to the ground and panic settling in your heart. It could not have lasted for more than a fraction of a second, but that was enough to lower your defenses. In a flash it swings its frozen blade at your throat, and you have no time to react. Your eyes instinctively squeeze shut bracing for impact.

You then hear a metallic clang and the sound of shattering ice. You open an eye and see Corunir’s shield-arm outstretched in front of you, turning what would surely have been a fatal blow. Glimmering shards of ice from the shattered blade scatter harmlessly through the air around you. He steps in front of you and bellows a challenge to it, finally drawing its ire away from you.

You quickly shake your arm trying to return feeling to your frozen hand as you watch the spirit form another blade from the air. It’s hard to describe how grateful you feel to have Corunir and his shield standing between you and it. It has been a long time since you have had to make such a desperate fight with only your hands to defend yourself, you feared your skills were getting rusty.

It is no small feat for Corunir to keep its attention focused on him, considering how enraged it is as you specifically. You heard him say something in elvish, you could not make out exactly what he said, and his axe flashed with heat, now seeming to be wreathed in embers. As he continues to harry it with strikes from behind his shield, the fell spirit has no choice but to face him rather than you. It leaves itself open for you to attack, once, twice, and a third time. Your first blow found its mark flawlessly, the second seemed to as well. The third, well, you think it did, but you can't really feel your hands anymore. Despite the numbness you press on with your attacks.

As it trades blows with the two of you, you start to see its form flicker and fade in some places, as if it is struggling to hold itself together. In a last desperate strike you bring down both of your fists on its head, its hateful screeching abruptly fading to nothingness as its form dissipates into a fine translucent dust.

Then, all at once, a dam in your mind breaks. Nearly a year's worth of memories, memories of Corunir and your harrowing adventures together, all flooding back to you in a torrent of joy and fear and grief and hope. The shock overwhelms you completely and you collapse on the cold stone.

#yea this ends abruptly but it was getting sooooo long #don't worry Tossdir is fine #breaking a weird memory curse like that in the heat of battle just kinda made his brain short out for a sec #he'll be back up in like a minute (might be long enough to scare Corunir a bit tho lol)#there will be a part 3 but thankfully I think writing that one *should* be faster #Tossdir and Corunir WILL get a hug I promise #Taz's foray into writing #lotro #lotro fic #Corunir #lotro oc #Tossdir

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beanyboobee · 2 years

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Prepare for Au spam, I usually don't post my Aus here and save them for Twitter, but thought it might be fun (and easier) to save them here.

Time Slip au:

An Au in which RedSon ends up falling from his universe into another one, completely differant to his own.

Where Wukong never went the journey to the west and insted manage to over throw the Jade emporer in his fit of rage after the while- immortal brazzer situation.

His rage was never calmed and he ends up kind of being a tyrant for awhile, making people loyal to him out of fear.

Mk still ended up becoming his successor but he is nothing like the Mk Redson knows.

Red Son is initially confused. Because when he wakes in this whole other realm. He is in a garden. But before he can speak or look around. He is blind folded and dragged off by a group of guards. Taunting him for, trying to leave again? And how hid attempts seem to be getting worse?

Red is thrown to the ground. He doesn't know where he is. But it getting progressively more annoyed and angry about it. Till finally the blindfold is taken off. And he is sitting on the ground of a throne room. Looking up to... wukong and mk? He is still deeply confused.

As it turned out. The other version of him. Originally learned to tame the samadi fire. But had it forcefully sealed away, when it proved to be a threat to wukong. Guan Yin crafting these punishment rings to deep Redson at bay. Without his power and the constant torment and isolation. This world's redson became more quiet. Less likely to fight back. But was always attempting silent escapes from this prison.

When red realises he is in a differant world he tries to explain this but wukong won't hear of it. Thinks its a ridiculous idea. Somehow Red son ends up getting pissed. And when he lashes out. He lights up. Literally. Seeing him ablaze this puts the Palace in a frenzy to hold him down. But this makes wukong curious.

Realising that the red beat wasn't lying that there really is another world out here. He wants to learn more about it. But red won't tell him in fear of this.. lunatic coming to try and take over his home.

Some more info about this au:

-Macaque never died by wukongs hands in this world, and so stayed by his side as his second in command. Macaque is the only being that can truly calm down Wukong when he is angry. So the fact this kid Redson won't tell him about him and macaque it the other world is suspicious.

-MK of this world is alott more cocky than our usual mk, not as modest.

He also as a very deep *boarding obsession) intetest in the Redson of his world, he calls him, His caged bird, something that's so pretty that its a good thing he is kept away. But seeing this new firey Redson makes him all the more interested because his red started to get boring when he stopped reacting to things.

-the Demon bull clan fell to Wukong so tentuons between the two groups are very high

-Red doesn't know how he got to this world and just wants to get home

-the two redsons never meet, OG red thought he saw the other red in passing once, but apart from that they never meet.

-alterative universe show down ? Yes please.

-Mei originally friends with mk is very loyal to their friendship but finds her heart changing as she wants to help Red get back home. She understands what it's like to do anything for your family.

-Tang and Pigsy, are still Mks guardians, they haven't changed much

-Sandy is a guard in this au, gets his job done and less soft about it

Basically getting to write what Wukong could of became if he didn't get that character development

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kohakhearts · 4 months

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ok i was sleep deprived tweeting about this but i got at least 6 hours of sleep last night so im ready to approach this with a degree of normalness. anyway remember when i said i was going to start shipping bloombolt ironically. well lets just say ive been thinking about things they have in common LMFAO but you’re likely unsurprised this is actually my way of saying Here’s How ShigeGou Can Still Win-

ANYWAY THE POINT BEING. goh? terrible friend. god he sucks. actually, chloe doesn’t even consider him a friend, at least not to his face (probably because he thinks friends are a hinderance to his goals and he’s got a lot of problems that make him think he doesn’t need friends he just needs to be the Bestest Coolest Guy Ever Who Knows Everything About Pokemon). in their debut episode they are 6 years old and she introduces him as someone who “hangs around my dad’s lab a lot” (possibly could be “comes to play at my dad’s lab a lot,” which isn’t REALLY much better - still holds the implication that he comes to play with her dad’s pokemon or his cool pokemon-related technology rather than her). she says to professor oak she invited him to pokemon camp simply because he’s always at her dad’s lab and she knew he’d like it.

ok now hear me out here. aside from the fact that she doesn’t EVER call herself goh’s friend, there is zero indication that chloe dislikes goh. actually, she tries pretty hard for him! she clearly likes him, or at least feels bad for him because she can tell he’s lonely (i theorize this is because he’s just like her. that her father’s status as what professor oak himself in this same scene calls A GENIUS has resulted in her feeling somewhat isolated. it’s probably in that “adults always want to talk about how great my dad is and the other kids pick up on it and think i’m Weird And Annoying because all our teachers and their parents seem to think i’m Special” way). it seems that her refusal to acknowledge that they Are friends stems more from the fact that she is aware - perhaps from experience - that attempting to establish that they Are friends will only make him push back, and maybe push her away. she is playing a game with rules that he decided on because his Complex is so ingrained in him even at 6 years old that he tells her to her face I Don’t Need Friends >:(

if this is sounding at all familiar, perhaps you’ve heard my pallet childhood friends spiel. if not, not to worry, for i wrote all about it here. the tl;dr here however is that whether or not ash and gary being childhood friends who go like see movies together or whatever is a late-series addition, there’s actually no good reason to think they DON’T have some kind of established relationship prior to the season one pilot. actually, it seems more as though gary has made the decision for the both of them that it’s time to stop being kids and start being serious - on the day they get their first pokemon, he declares ash his rival and begins calling him satoshi-kun in order to establish that we are not friends, you don’t take this seriously and so i won’t take you seriously until you show me you’re worth being my rival.

you could argue ash isn’t as understanding as chloe, so rather than you know, bringing him his homework and whatnot, he just gets pissed off. HOWEVER, they actually both do the same thing: reach out, constantly, and get rejected over and over. in jn002 goh stands chloe up and then when he finally responds to her messages all he says is essentially “i’m doing something more important than that, sorry” and her reaction is “he always does this.” likewise, ash takes gary’s rival declaration seriously! every time he sees the guy, he wants to battle, to prove himself to him (that he’s worthy, that he’s better than gary thinks, etc etc). for a good 200 or so episodes, every time gary shows up, all he does is walk away from ash. barring that, making fun of him for being no good at battling, yet never actually engaging him in a battle to prove it. the first time gary actually tries to battle him is after they’ve both received eight (uh. or ten) gym badges. the first time they actually battle is way after that. and then he wins and continues to just walk away again, until pretty close to the end of the johto arc (though there’s a little more respect there).

anyway the parallel is pretty obvious. at least to me. there's something deeply wrong with them both <3 which is why then in the project mew arc, who is the one telling goh that he has to be good at teamwork? that he has to learn to cooperate with people in order to achieve his goals? obviously ash is the one who taught goh about The Meaning Of FriendshipTM, but gary occupies a unique position of actually understanding why this is a skill he needs to work on, because it's something he had to learn the hard way too.

on the other hand! ash and chloe have their own fun solidarity: world's shittiest, most emotionally repressed childhood best friend who is allergic to the word friend to begin with

#taylor.txt #*meta #i guess. LMAO #im still not there like im not shipping it. but at the very least i am more here than ever for them Bonding in general

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ttuesday · 2 years

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could you do the fellers reaction to the reader just sobbing after they really raised their voice at them?? like maybe they were in a bit of a fight and the reader gets scared and cries?? sorry this is a stupid request i’m a baby 😭😭

I relate to this request sm anon <3

Arthur

Sometimes Arthur can get grumpy and raise his voice at anyone he crosses paths with, mad at the world and easily annoyed at any small inconvenience. He never imagined that raising his voice at you for a mere few moments would have such an impact and although he can’t prove it to you, if he knew you’d react like this, he would have never raised his voice in the slightest to you.

He has no idea what to do, stunned by your tears. He tries to speak, to offer you some words of comfort but the words get caught in his throat. At this moment, all Arthur can do is hug you, hiding your tears from the others as you cry into his shirt and take comfort in his arms wrapped tightly around you. Finally getting some words out, Arthur assures you he would never hurt you and that he’s sorry for his tone.

He doesn’t need to understand why someone raising their voice to you has garnered this reaction, instead Arthur wants to learn how to prevent this. Whenever he gets annoyed at camp or feels the need to argue with someone, the first thinks of is how you’d react to the shouting match which would surely follow and opts to keep things calm. You mean so much to him and the thoughts of causing you any turmoil makes his stomach turn.

Charles

Charles rarely raises his voice, not seeing a need in it. Even when he’s arguing with micah the others, he doesn’t raise his voice, keeping his tone firm and authoritative but not shouting. But unfortunately in this instance, Charles raises his voice to you, not out of anger but because he sees a snake in the grass, right where you were about to step.

For a moment, Charles panics and yells at you in an attempt to warn you about the snake. It isn’t his intent to scare you but he soon realises that by raising his voice, he’s indirectly hurt you more than the passive snake would have.

As you sob, Charles rushes to your side, hesitant to touch you but tenderly placing his hand on your shoulder to lead you to a quieter area of camp. He doesn’t try to stop you crying, knowing it’s best for you to let it all out. Even when you stop crying, Charles doesn’t question why you cried and instead asks if you’d prefer to have a quiet night and stay by the outskirts of camp with him for the remainder of the evening.

Dutch

Dutch can definitely be moody sometimes but he tends to mumble snarky comments rather than shout. He rarely raises his voice and in times that he does, it’s mainly because he’s drunk and celebrating or he’s in the midst of a shootout and yelling for some cover.

But after trying to think of a good plan for the past week, when you ask him how he’s going, Dutch snaps at you. He knows you’re not to blame for his incompetence at planning a good heist but he unfortunately yells at you that he’s trying his best. He does it out of frustration and once it’s out of his system, he feels guilty.

Sighing to himself as he sees you cry, Dutch sympathetically wipes the tears from your cheek and apologizes, making sure to keep his voice soft. He definitely plans to make it up to you properly with some gifts but for now, Dutch focuses on holding you and wiping away your tears, repeating every few minutes that he’s sorry for being a fool.

Micah

After a long day of bickering with half the gang, when you accidentally offend Micah, he automatically snaps at you. He instantly starts to shout, throwing an insult your way before he starts to march off. The only reason Micah stops after a few steps is because he hears you quietly sob.

Micah rarely feels regret but to hear you cry, he feels a pang of guilt in his heart. Cautiously, Micah returns to where he was sitting before his outburst, not sure what to say or how to say it. Of course he feels bad and wishes he knew how to comfort you but he has no idea how. But he doesn’t leave your side, knowing he’ll feel even worse if he leaves you while you’re like this.

Even though Micah had no idea how to deal with you crying in front of him, he takes note that you’re not keen on people yelling at you and promptly comes to your aid whenever Miss Grimshaw or one of the others decides to shout at you, quickly defending you and barking insults at them until they leave you be.

John

John has a bad habit of bottling up his emotions, tending to stay quiet whenever he gets frustrated until eventually he snaps over something small. He’s always quick to scold himself for snapping over something stupid, feeling foolish and internally cringing at himself before he explains how he’s been bottling up his frustrations and apologizes.

But as soon as John sees you cry, he knows he’s fucked up and that an apology won’t be good enough. He doesn’t care about whatever inconvenience made him frustrated, the only thing that matters to him right now is making sure you’re ok and comforting you however he can.

He tells you over and over again that you’ve done nothing wrong and that he’s sorry for raising his voice. The last thing John wants is you to think you’re somehow in the wrong and so he tenderly assures you that his bad mood is nothing to do with you and that he’s once again very sorry for snapping at you. Except him to be softer than usual after this, wanting you to feel loved and safe.

Javier

Javier doesn’t try to justify why he’s raised his voice at you. Sure, he was stressed because of the constant tension in camp nowadays but he doesn’t see that as an excuse, knowing he was wrong to snap at you the second the words left his mouth.

It’s like he can feel his heart break when he sees you cry, knowing he’s the reason. Javier is hesitant to touch you, not wanting to crowd you with his arms when you’re in this vulnerable state. The last thing Javier wants to do now is accidentally overstepping any boundaries and make you feel worse.

Instead he tries to help with his words, apologising and trying to give you some insight into why he’s so tense, hoping you’ll get some comfort in knowing he didn’t actually mean to raise his voice at you. Javier will stay by your side for as long as you want, saying words of assurance to you as he apologises for his behaviour.

Bill

Bill has a tendency to get worked up over things and eventually explode, huffing and slightly sulking as his voice tends to get louder and louder. He didn’t realise how loud he was being until he looked over at you, his heart dropping when you let out your first sob.

He will stay right there beside you, hand rubbing your back and leaving you cry into his shirt for however long you want. He doesn’t try to shush your crying, feeling wrong in doing so and instead opts to leave you cry it all out, saying the occasional “there, there” as he pats your back

He may not know the right words to say or how to properly comfort someone, but he tries his best. Bill hates to see you cry so it is his goal to make you feel better. He may decide start rambling on about something completely random as you cry but he isn’t doing it to ignore the obvious, instead he hopes to distract you with his goofy stories and make you smile again.

Sean

You already know how loud Sean can be sometimes. If he gets too excited or if he’s annoyed or wants to annoy someone or if he’s bored and wants attention, Sean raises his voice. It’s something Sean doesn’t even notice nowadays, it just comes naturally to him.

He gets a fright when he sees you crying, immediately on high alert and trying his best to calm you. He puts his hands on each of your arms, his eyes aligned with yours as he assures you you’re safe and that you’re ok here. It’s only until after the initial shock of seeing you sob does Sean start to realize it was his loud shouting that triggered it. He didn’t think being loud could have such an affect on someone but it’s not something he’d like to see happen again.

You mean so much to him and to know he’s the reason you cried, whether he meant it or not, makes him feel terrible. Sean takes extra care in keeping his voice level and calm whenever you’re around and always apologizes if he impulsively gets too loud. He knows he doesn’t need to apologize for things like this but Sean doesn’t mind, you mean more to him than however loud his voice is.

Hosea

It was a very long day for Hosea spent arguing with Dutch about a new plan, trying to reassure everyone that things will work out while also attempting to break up any fights that happen in camp.

He genuinely didn’t mean to raise his voice at you. Hell, Hosea didn’t even know it was you. He was getting himself some coffee in the hopes that’ll help him get through the day when he heard a voice behind him tell him the medical supply is running low. Hosea didn’t mean to snap at you that he’s sorting it out, regretting his tone of voice the second he hears himself speak. To turn around and see tears beginning to run down your face makes his feel 10 times worse.

Hosea doesn’t make excuses for himself, instead apologizing for his tone and asking if he can give you a hug. For the rest of the day he tells the others to sort out their own problems and instead stays with you, getting you whatever you need and ready to talk about what happened or something else if you need a distraction.

Trelawny

It was never Trelawny’s intention to frighten you, it was the opposite in fact. He decided to show you his latest magic trick, hoping to dazzle you with it. But Trelawny gets overexcited, raising his voice louder and louder as he continues with his trick. It gets to a point where he’s practically shouting at you to pick a card, lively exclaiming when he guesses your card correctly.

It gets too much for you and soon enough, you feel tears beginning to pool in your eyes. Trelawny, preferring to view life from a positive perspective, presumes his astounding magic has brought you to tears of joy but once you sob, he knows he’s fucked up.

Josiah’s first instinct is to panic, blurting out as many questions as he can think of in an attempt to figure out what exactly caused this. When you allude to the shouting being the reason, Trelawny quickly goes into caring mode, stroking your hair and cooing to you gently that it’ll pass soon. He’s much gentler with you after this, subconsciously trying you like a delicate flower.

Kieran

Kieran rarely raises his voice. He doesn’t see a need to do it and the only time he does see it as acceptable is if there’s a shootout and no one can hear properly over the gunfire. It’s a typical day at camp and you decide to help out with the horses, bringing some hay over to the Count. Unbeknownst to you, this particular day the Count is in a foul mood, making snapping movements and basically threatening to kick anyone who comes close. Out of sheer panic of seeing you approach the horse, Kieran shouts over at you to get back.

It takes a few seconds for Kieran to notice your tears, focused on keeping the Count at ease and on making sure you’re not too close to the animal but the instant he sees you crying, all of his attention is on you.

He has no idea what’s going on, uncertain if it was the horse that scared you or him shouting. Either way, Kieran’s more concerned with trying to help you rather than what caused this. He knows you’ll tell him what caused this later on, right now his plan is to dry your tears and tell you it’ll all be alright.

Lenny

It’s moving day for the gang and yet again everyone is packing up the tents and quickly leaving the area before the law can come sniffing around. You and Lenny stick together for most of the move and when y'all get to the new camp, ye both help move things out of the wagons.

Lenny didn't mean to yell at you but when he saw you struggling to lift a rather large crate out of a wagon, he instictively shouts over at you to wait and that he'll lift it out instead. His eyes go wide as you begin to cry. He had no idea you'd react like this and in the moment, Lenny doesn't know what it was that set you off. But Lenny doesn't think about that right now and instead quickly rushes over to you, wrapping his arms around you and embracing you warmly.

You're the only thing that matters to him right now and so he carefully guides you away from the wagons and to somewhere private. He doesn't mind how long you need to cry or how long he needs to comfort you for, Lenny wants to be there for you and to understand what happened so he can avoid it in the future.

#ok so I may have taken like a week and a half break lol #but I had over 100 things qeued to make sure my blog wasn’t completely barren #but wooooooooo it’s June!#rdr2 #headcanons #writings #arthur morgan #charles smith #dutch van der linde #micah bell #john marston #javier escuella #bill williamson #sean macguire #hosea mathews #josiah trelawny #kieran duffy #lenny summers

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