#maybe i will post Once i have them all on there
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Well, AO3’s whole deal is allowing people to post their art without forcing them to censor themselves. Like afaik as long as you aren’t posting CSEM of genuinely harmful content like that and trying to make money off of fanwork (which is a legal issue wrt copyright laws) then you can post whatever you want. All you have to do is tag your work appropriately and make sure to put your tws/cws in there including content related to major character deaths, strong violence and sexual assault. And then yeah every now and then there’ll be the usual puritan trying to start a crusade, but AO3 is the last place where you would get it.
Now I know it can still be intimidating, but if you want an ulterior layer of protection you can turn on the option to only let registered people leave comments, you can delete comments and you can also shut all comments off by default. So actually AO3 offers so much control wrt how people interact with you and your work.
And then again, you may also decide to write a story only for yourself, or only for a closed off group of people. You can just share a text file with a group of friends. That’s how fanfic communities started, actually. But if your reason for using AI is fear you might get attacked, you’re gonna get attacked anyway. If someone wants to be a dickhead like I was just a couple of comments ago, they will. If you want to share your ideas, that’s part of the deal - people will have opinions about it. And once more, if you don’t feel safe sharing a story you can just write it for yourself. For your own joy and entertainment. I mean I don’t know ass about game development, but I assume you also have to work with problems, assets that won’t work the way you want them to, things that you notice could be better, angles to your narration you didn’t even think of at first, right? And then maybe you started out with an idea, you worked on it and then realized the game you were making ended up being very different from what you had in mind. Maybe more engaging. Maybe something you enjoy more. And writing works like that too. If a computer writes a story for you, you won’t get to see your brain child grow to become something completely different from what you’d envisioned at first, entirely because of the processes your mind engaged in while working on it; on your taste, on the themes you care about and enjoy. And that’s such a satisfying part of the process in any medium: surprising yourself. Saying “huh I didn’t think I’d end up doing this with this story but it seems to work” and getting your hands dirty again.
And if people have a problem with your fun, you can just tell them to fuck off, block them and keep on writing your thing. Do not let their pearl clutching affect the way you tell stories.
just saw a fanfic on ao3 have a dedication for chatgpt... that section is meant for your horny perverted mutual who proofread your work, you violated sacred law and you will be torn apart and laid bare btw
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smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo
chapter eight
summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.
{enemies to lovers, fake dating}
includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn
wc: 4.6k
“Chris!”
“Shut up!”
“I’m s-sorry!”
“Shut up!”
Chris grabs a handful of your hair from behind and slams your face into the pillow, muffling your moans that were definitely echoing through the rest of the house before placing his hand back on your waist.
You had snuck in, once again, through the back door that conveniently connected to Chris’s room, where you had spent most of your free time this last week since coming back from the wedding, and half of the time you came over, it ended up like this, getting your mouth covered somehow in a desperate attempt to keep you quiet to avoid his brothers hearing you, especially like this. Not that you minded, you loved when Chris got a little aggressive in bed, so maybe sometimes you got a little loud on purpose.
Chris’s hands were no doubt creating bruises in your sides where they gripped on, pulling you back towards him every time he thrust into you, your bodies slapping loudly in the otherwise silent room. Normally you guys had something playing on the tv, or at least his speaker, to drown out how loud you typically got, but today when you walked into his room, you may or may not have immediately ripped your shirt off once the door was closed, waggling your eyebrows suggestively. Chris got the hint and you guys wasted no time jumping into bed together.
Now, however long later, you were nearing the end of your session and unable to control the sounds coming out of your mouth, grateful Chris had turned you into the pillow to quiet down.
Chris delivered a final pump inside you, groaning as he came, your sounds finally quieting down, head turning back out of the pillow to suck in a deep breath.
“You are way too loud,” Chris grumbles. “You’re the one that wants to keep us a secret but you can’t shut the fuck up when you need to.”
“I’m sorry,” you whine. “You’re just like… magic or something.”
That rips a laugh out of Chris as he pulls out of you, letting your body flop onto the bed. “Magic or something, I like that.” He leans forward and hovers his body above your back, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Hey, I-“
“Chris?!”
The sound of Matt yelling at the top of the stairs ripped you both out of your post-sex haze, eyes widening and staring at each other in shock. “Yeah?!” Chris yells back inconspicuously, both of you jumping up from the bed and scrambling to find your clothes. The sound of footsteps gets louder, panic setting into both of your chests as you guys realize you’re about to get caught. Chris definitely didn’t lock the door before you guys got started either.
“Fuck,” you whisper, gathering all of your clothes into your hands, knowing you won’t have time to put them back on.
“Bathroom!” Chris whisper-yells, pointing at the bathroom door connected to his room. You’re running into the bathroom as he’s ripping his comforter off his bed, soaked by your so called ‘party trick’. He’s only got sweatpants on, and he’s mumbling obscenities to himself as he sees the sheets soaked as well, ripping those off when the door swings open, revealing a confused and slightly worried Matt in the doorway.
“Are you okay?” You hear Matt’s voice through the bathroom door. His eyes are raking over Chris’s room which seems slightly in disarray, watching him stripping his sheets.
“Of course I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be okay? I’m fine. Why?” Chris babbles, standing up straight and placing his hands on his hips, slightly out of breath.
“Uh… I just heard, like, screaming and I didn’t know what it was and you weren’t answering your phone.” Matt says, still confused.
“Oh!” Chris forces out a laugh and waves a hand at his brother dismissively. “I was watching a movie, sorry.”
Matt nods, not fully believing him but not having any reason not to either. “Why are you stripping your bed?”
Chris looks around at the blankets now on the floor, pursing his lips. “My bed? Oh my blankets, yeah, I’m just.. gonna wash them.”
Matt looks really confused now, eyebrows surging towards his hairline. “You’re doing laundry?” He asks, to which Chris just nods in response. “Alright. Well as long as you’re okay, I’m just gonna go back in my room.” He turns around to leave, but stops in his tracks, turning just his head back to Chris. “Also, it fucking reeks in your room. You need an air freshener, bad.”
“You got it,” Chris agrees, turning to open his window. Once his bedroom door is shut, he walks to the bathroom door and opens it, revealing you fully clothed in your sweat shorts and tank top, cheeks a bright red color. He laughs at the sight of you, walking in to wrap his arms around your shoulders. “Why do you look like that?”
You stayed limp, hands at your sides. “He said it reeks!” You cry out, face pressed in Chris’s bare chest, making him laugh loudly.
“It just smells like sex in here, that’s all. He probably just couldn’t place it because he doesn’t think that’s what I’m doing in here. It’s not you that stinks.” Chris comforts you by rubbing his hands on your back sweetly, pressing his lips into the top of your head. “Although, the sheets almost got us caught, I didn’t realize it went through the blanket so he saw me ripping those off.”
You just groan even louder, still embarrassed. “I think I need to be celibate.” You mumble, to which Chris gasps.
“Absolutely not! You don’t get to show me what I’m missing all these years just to rip it away from me.”
-
“Chris,” you whisper, shaking the dead weight body next to you in bed. Silence. “Chris,” you whisper again, shaking him harder.
The boy next to you groans, pulling the blankets up to his chin and settling back into sleep quickly. You’re faster, though, refusing to let him ignore you.
“Chris,” you say in your normal tone, shaking him once more.
Chris turns his head, eyes barely cracked open as he stares at you in the almost pitch black room, the only thing illuminating your face being the moon in the sky coming through the window. “What?” He snaps, annoyed.
“I’m thirsty,” you tell him in a deadpan tone.
Chris blinks at you a few times, like he can’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth. “Are you serious?” He asks, voice groggy. “You woke me up to tell me you’re thirsty? Go get water.”
You pout at him, not wanting to get out of bed. “You go get me water.”
Chris turns back to his position facing away from you, getting comfortable once more. “You sound wide awake, I’m not doing that.”
You huff and throw the blankets off of yourself aggressively, standing up from the bed. It was almost three in the morning and you guys had been asleep for quite some time, but you woke up randomly and needed that middle of the night glass of water, you were just hoping Chris would get it for you.
You trek up the stairs, maybe a little louder than you should’ve considering the time, entering the dark kitchen. You’re filling up a glass from the fridge when a voice calling your name startles you out of your thoughts.
You whip your head around, free hand clutching your chest as you turn, eyes landing on Nick sitting on the couch staring back at you with wide eyes.
“Nick?” You question, heart racing in your chest.
Nick slowly stands up and walks over to you where you’re seemingly glued to the floor, unable to move. You think maybe if you stay completely still you’ll disappear into the background and Nick will be none the wiser. But of course you weren’t so lucky, and he kept his eyes locked on yours until he was standing right in front of you.
“What are you doing here? When did you get here?” He questions, hands flailing as he spoke, clearly confused.
You swallow thickly, looking around like something in the room would hand you the perfect lie on a silver platter. “Uh… I’m…” You make eye contact with Nick again, smiling uncomfortably.
“Did you just come from downstairs?” Nick questions again.
Fuck.
“Downstairs?” You ask dumbly. “Why would I be… downstairs?”
Nick crosses his arms as he stares you down, gaze becoming more intimidating. “That’s exactly what I’m wondering. Because the only thing downstairs besides our garage is Chris’s room, and there’s no way you’d be in Chris’s room, right?”
You laugh, shoving Nick’s shoulder playfully. “Chris’s room? No way, no, I just, uh… I forgot something in there so I just went and grabbed it real quick.”
Nick furrowed his brow, not believing you. “I’ve been in here for two hours, which means you’ve been downstairs for at least two hours, and it’s the middle of the night. Are you sleeping in Chris’s room?”
There’s absolutely no way you wiggle yourself out of this one. You’re caught red handed by the loudest mouth in the family, no doubt in your mind Matt would know by morning. He’s got you cornered, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Except lie, you can always lie.
“Fine, I was in his room. You want me to be honest?” You sigh like you’re about to pour your heart out to Nick, setting your glass down on the counter. “We’ve been trying to work on our relationship. We know how annoying it is for you and Matt to deal with so we’ve been trying. We were talking last night and I told him I was exhausted and he offered to let me sleep on the couch in his room so I took him up on it and decided to crash there and leave in the morning before you guys woke up but obviously you’ve caught me.”
Nick narrows his eyes at you while you speak, trying not decide if he believed you or not, but ultimately he nods his head slowly, taking in your words. “Okay,” he starts. “That’s good, I guess. You could’ve told us that instead of sneaking around like a weirdo, I thought you were sleeping with him or something.”
You gasp and cringe a bit over-dramatically. “What?! No! Ew! Chris?! No!”
Nick holds his hands up for you to stop talking. “Alright, dude. Chill. I’m going to bed.”
You nod and clear your throat, picking up your glass from the counter. “Sure. Goodnight.”
Once you’re alone in the kitchen you let out a sigh of relief, leaning on the table like you just ran a marathon.
That was way too close.
-
from: chris <3
bathroom
You looked down at your phone that illuminated your face from where you’re sat on the couch next to Matt, legs thrown over his as you guys shared a blanket. The four of you were sat in the living room binging a show on Netflix, all spaced out at different ends of the couch except for you and your best friend. Chris, however, had gotten up to go to the bathroom a few minutes ago, and you did not expect him to request your presence, especially when both of his brothers were around, but the thought of sneaking around so close to them had you slightly hot and bothered as you looked at your phone.
“Uh, Matt?” You start sheepishly, looking up at the boy who stared mindlessly at the tv.
“Huh?” He replied, not looking down at you.
You clear your throat nervously. “Can I lay in your bed? I’m not feeling so good, I think I want to go to sleep.”
Matt tears his eyes away from the television finally, looking down at you worriedly. “Are you okay?” He asks, bringing a hand up to your forehead.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you chuckle, grabbing his wrist. “Just tired I think.”
Matt nods and pulls the blanket off of you both, letting you up. “Of course you can lay in my bed. Let me know if you need anything.”
You smile and nod at him, standing up and heading towards his room. When you get there, though, you look back at Matt and Nick to make sure they’re not looking before you slip into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.
Chris smiles at you from where he sits on the closed toilet seat, reaching his hands out to graze over your thighs as you walked up to him, your own hands landing on his shoulders. “You look way too good right now, I just had to tell you.”
You blush, a shy smile gracing your face. “I look the same as I always look,” you mumble quietly.
“I know.” Chris agrees, standing up from his seated position and walking forward, pinning you against the wall. “You have no idea how bad I want you right now.”
You lean your head up towards Chris so your lips are barely touching, sliding your hands up under his shirt. “It’s too risky,” you tell him, disappointment clear in your voice. “They’ll hear.”
Chris whines, hands resting on your waist pulling your body closer to his. “Can’t you just be quiet? Just this one time?”
You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s like asking a duck not to quack or something. It’s impossible. You’re too good for me to be quiet.”
“What if I kiss you the whole time to keep you quiet?” Chris bargains a little more.
Your hands trail down to Chris’s waistband of his sweatpants, thumbs looping underneath so you can start to pull them down, eyes still locked on his. “What if I just blow you? Since you’re so good at being quiet.”
You push his pants past his hips and let them fall to the ground, leaving him in just his tight, black Skims briefs that don’t leave much to the imagination, especially with his dick already straining against the fabric.
Chris hums in agreement, pressing his lips to yours for a moment before he pulls away, smirking at you. “I’m not gonna turn down a blowjob from the prettiest girl I know.”
You giggle quietly, still wanting to make sure the boys in the living room don’t hear you, slowly sinking to your knees in front of Chris, keeping eye contact with him the whole time you descended until you were face to face with his still clothed member, dropping your eyes down to it. “May I?” You ask sweetly, bringing a hand up to rub him through his underwear.
Chris breaths out a breath of relief and hums in agreement and you waste no time before grabbing the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down to join his sweatpants around his ankles. “I love your dick, Chris, you know that? It’s so good to me, never disappoints. I normally hate sucking dick but for you? It’s like the sexiest thing in the world to me. I love how you sound and how you pull my hair.” Your hand comes up to start stroking Chris languidly, thumb running over his slit every few times your hand comes back up to his tip.
Chris’s eyes are still on you, watching as you pleasure him with your hand, genuinely feeling like this would be enough for him to get off. Just the sight of you has his skin buzzing at all times, especially now that he knows what you sound like, what you feel like. He couldn’t get enough of you. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” He breathes out, hands reaching out to brace himself on the wall.
Your eyes shoot up to meet his for a moment, smiling at him before you open your mouth and guide his dick onto your tongue that lay flattened out, slapping it on the pink muscle before closing your lips around him, eliciting a quiet moan from his mouth.
He’s definitely quieter than you would be, but the thing you guys forgot to be mindful of was how long you were in the bathroom. It’s already been a few minutes of you in there together, and Chris was already in there for about five minutes before you joined him, so the time was ticking up, and you both were none the wiser, only focused on each other.
You had been enthusiastically sucking Chris off for a few minutes, hand stroking the base of his dick that didn’t fit in your mouth while your tongue trailed over the first few inches, eyes shut as you focused on his pleasure, making sure it was one of the best blowjobs he ever had, when there was a soft knock at the door, Matt’s voice ringing from the other side and ripping you both away from the trance you were in.
“Chris?” He calls, concerned. “You okay in there?”
This was terrible timing for Chris, as he had just started to feel his orgasm building in his stomach, his dick getting tenser and breath getting caught in his throat. You didn’t let up, though, just kept going and trying to bring him over the edge, finding the idea of someone just on the other side of that door, someone that had no idea what was going on and was just innocently checking on his brother.
Chris sucked in a breath and tried to even out his voice, eyebrows still furrowed in pleasure as he spoke. “Y-yeah, I’m okay, sorry, just on my phone,” he called back, sounding surprisingly convincing.
“Oh, okay,” Matt replies, but you don’t hear his footsteps leaving.
Chris turns to stare at the door, breath getting choppier and hips starting to stutter and push his dick father into your mouth, almost making you gag.
“Are you almost done? I gotta take a piss, dude.” Matt speaks up again, clearly still right outside the door.
Chris throws his head back and pulls one hand from the wall, grabbing a handful of your hair to keep your head in place as he starts to thrust his hips, now fully fucking your mouth as he neared his climax.
“I’m- fuck, I’m coming,” he replies, a double entendre unbeknownst to Matt as Chris cums in your mouth, warm liquid sliding down your throat and you accept it happily, swallowing around him as he breathes shakily, hips coming to a halt.
“Uh, okay,” Matt replies, finally walking away from the bathroom and back to the living room.
You slowly slide your lips off of Chris’s dick, biting your bottom lip as you rise back to your feet, face to face with him again. “That was so hot,” you whisper giddily, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Chris huffs, still trying to slow his heart rate. “That was terrifying,” he whispers back, but kisses you anyway, knowing it’s the last kiss he’ll get of the night.
-
It had become pretty routine for you to sneak into the triplets’ house at this point, almost exclusively coming in through the back door in Chris’s room where you would spend the rest of the night until you went home or spent the night, and it quickly became your favorite part of the day.
Chris had gone from the person you spoke to the least in your life to being your favorite person to be around, always laughing and smiling when you were with him, despite there not being a label on your relationship yet. However, you didn’t mind the lack of label quite yet, you both knew what this was and what you both wanted, you just didn’t want to rush slapping a name on it and making it so serious.
Tonight you both had decided to watch a movie together and cuddle up in bed, not worried about the fact that his brothers were home as they typically were but their rooms were so far away it almost didn’t matter how loud you guys got. Almost.
You’re laid in bed under Chris’s blankets on your back with him laid beside you on his side so he could face you, hand running underneath your shirt sweetly as his eyes trailed over your face. “You’re so fucking pretty, you know that?” He tells you quietly, causing a blush to arise on your cheeks.
You turn your head to meet his eyes, not responding. You didn’t really know what to say to that.
“I’m serious,” he continued, scooting closer to you. “I could look at you forever and never get bored. I love… everything about you.”
Those words made your heart race and almost made you want to cry. It wasn’t quite a confession of love just yet, not quite the three words that danced along your own tongue, but it felt so close that it still gave you a similar rush, the kind that made you want to say fuck it and tell everyone you knew about your newfound relationship. You couldn’t believe how sweet this boy was, how tender and caring, how many affirmations he would whisper to you out of the blue, how attentive he was. It all made it so easy to fall for him.
You still stayed quiet, but you reached your hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him down into a soft kiss. He leaned down over you, still running his hand over your soft skin under your shirt as your lips meshed together perfectly.
But nothing was perfect in this household, and you’ve known that for years, and you definitely should not have been shocked when Chris’s door flies open, his brothers standing on the other side. You’re hoping your instincts kick in quicker than they can make out your face, grabbing the blanket and pulling it fully over your head, hiding your identity.
Chris whips his head to look at the now open door, Matt and Nick staring back at him in shock. “What the fuck? Who is that?” Matt points to the bed, eyes wide.
Chris just looks down at the lump under his sheets, then back at his brother, shrugging his shoulders. “No one,” he said calmly.
Nick pushes past Matt with a smirk, nodding his head like he had all the answers. “I know exactly who that is, Matt.”
Matt turns to him, still confused. “You do?”
Nick nods again, raising his eyebrows towards Chris. “It’s that girl you went on a date with a few nights ago, isn’t it?”
Chris’s eyes widen, and your heart drops to your stomach. There’s no way, right? There’s no way Chris would hurt you like that, especially so soon. He wouldn’t go behind your back to see somebody else, would he?
“What?” Chris spats out. “What are you talking about, dude?”
Nick laughs, shaking his head. “So not the girl from the date? Is it the girl you’ve been fucking the last few weeks then? What’s her name, Maya?”
Maya, you think. That name is way too familiar.
“I haven’t been fucking Maya,” Chris defends, voice shaky.
The girl. The one he had taken all the photos for, the one he said was too clingy and he wanted to get rid of. He was still sleeping with her?
You swallow thickly, heart racing at every word being spoken. You felt like if you tried to stand, your knees would be too weak to hold you up, your hands shaking where they held the sheets.
In a split second decision, you brace yourself and pull the cover off of your face, sitting up slowly next to Chris. His brothers gasp at the sight of you, Nick screeching out your name in confusion. However, they’ve become background noise as your eyes lock with Chris’s, your own welling with tears uncontrollably. “Chris?” You whisper, lip quivering. “Is that true?”
Chris opens his mouth to speak, but closes it quickly as he realizes his brothers are still in the room. This was the most uncomfortable he’s ever felt in his life, feeling like everyone was turning to him for answers and his mind was reeling, not knowing what the right answer was for any of it, not wanting to hurt anybody’s feelings in the process.
You, though. You took his hesitation to speak as an answer, and a small, broken squeak left your lips as you got out of the bed, grabbing your sweater off of his couch. “Are you fucking serious?” You spat, slipping your shoes on next. “You’re still fucking somebody else when I’m not around? I knew this shit was too good to be true, you really are a fucking asshole, aren’t you?” Tears flowed freely down your face now as you spoke to him, his brothers standing in shock in complete silence, not knowing if what they walked in on was real or a hallucination.
“Wait, no, I’m not fucking with anybody,” Chris says, clambering off the bed towards you, hands grabbing your arms. You shook him off though, pushing him away by his chest.
“Don’t fucking touch me. Let’s just make our lives easier and go back to hating each other,” you tell him, staring up at him with red eyes, noticing his own starting to gloss over.
He’s silent, words caught at his throat as he watches you unfold in front of him, not knowing how he could save this in the moment. “Please,” he chokes out, a small tear sliding down his cheek. “Please don’t leave, it’s not true.”
You want to give in so badly, but you know Chris’s history, you know how much he fucks around and how many girls he’s used to talking to and you feel stupid for thinking he’d stop doing all of that for you. You actually feel like a fucking fool for thinking he’d change for you.
You shake your head at him and turn around, grabbing the handle of the door to let yourself out. Before you leave, though, you turn and look at Matt and Nick who are stuck to the floor in shock, mouths hanging slightly open as they watch the exchange. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”
You pull the door open and leave, shutting it quietly behind you as you start to walk to your car, soft sobs leaving your lips as you get further away from their house.
Chris stands there for a few moments staring at the door, before he turns around and glares at Nick, rage clear on his face despite the tears in his eyes. “Are you fucking serious?!” He screams, walking up to him and grabbing him by the collar, pushing him back a few steps until they reach the wall, Nick’s back pressed up against it. “Learn how to read a fucking room! You just lost me the girl I’ve been in love with for the last three fucking years, all because you don’t know when to stop talking!”
Nick’s eyes were wide as he grabbed Chris’s wrists, trying to get him to let go of him. “I’m sorry!” He squeaked out, staring into his brother’s eyes that spoke a thousand words.
Matt came up to them and placed a hand on Chris’s shoulder, trying to remain the calm one in the situation. “Hey, let him go, he didn’t know,” he said softly, rubbing up and down his arm when Chris finally let go of Nick, turning his younger brother to face him.
Chris’s eyes finally softened when he looked at Matt, knowing that if there was anyone here that cared for you as much as he did, it was Matt. “I love her,” he whispered, finally processing the words that he said out loud for the first time.
Matt nods at Chris and pulls him into a hug, rubbing his back. “I know, man. It’s okay, she’ll be fine, she’ll come around, she’s just upset right now, trust me. Once you explain everything she’ll come back to you.”
Chris hugs his brother back, hands gripping on the back of his shirt as he took shaky breaths in, still terrified he was going to lose you forever even though he barely got to have you.
“I need her.”
-
a/n: one more chapter for real this time gang
taglist
@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @sturnburbs @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @sluttybitchformattsturniolo
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of course
in which the helicopter crashed with both our guys inside. inspired by this awesome post by @mooshkat
(tw: vomiting, heart issues, near death angst, biphobia mention)
~
Once the wave of agony subsides, and Tommy is reasonably sure he's done vomiting into the dirt, he blinks over at Evan appraisingly. "Is your arm broken or did your shoulder go out again?"
Evan grimaces and finishes tying off Tommy's splint. "Shoulder. And my hip's not feeling great. Cracked rib, maybe two. But of course you had to outdo me."
"Didn't do it on purpose." Tommy glares at the spot where his tibia poked through the skin, like he can intimidate the pain away. "Anyway you've got me on quantity."
"There's nothing else?"
"My head hurts," Tommy admits, "but there's not much we can do for that right now."
Evan leans in to compare his pupils. Tommy is very proud of himself for not flinching. "Dispatch had our location?" Evan asks, and instead of reminding him that he was there when they confirmed it, Tommy nods.
He knows he can't go to sleep, even if the leg would allow him. He finds a stick and starts tic tac toe. Evan chuckles and joins in.
He wins the next two games. Tommy blames his probable concussion.
Evan holds his bad arm tight around his midsection, but his eyes seem stormy for a different reason. "These people who hurt you in the past, what- what are their names?"
"Huh?" Tommy gives up on the game, scratching it out of the dirt. "You want a full list of legal names or just what I called them?"
"Was it Evan, for any of them?"
God, he's so transparent. Tommy laughs.
"Do you- do you judge everyone by who came before? Is that just what you do in a-all situations? One barista spilled coffee on you in 2011 and you pay for Starbucks with one of those grabby reacher things ever since?"
"Fuck's sake." Tommy doesn't even like Starbucks, but he doesn't say that.
Evan sort of shrugs before he remembers his shoulder with a wince. "It's not generally considered a sign of maturity. Ironic, I guess."
"Yeah, call me old. See where it gets you."
Evan brightens. "You're talking to me. I like my results so far."
There's something indefatigable about this man. Tommy can't help but surrender in the face of it, just a little. "How did you know I'd have to pinch hit for this fly along?"
"I didn't. I just hoped." His grin is just the slightest bit abashed. "Worst case scenario, get out of the engine for a day and I pump one of your coworkers for info."
"They have very little to pump," Tommy says. Evan and the codependent 118 are the aberration, and they're well aware of that. Tommy has great coworkers. They do their jobs and leave, with the exception of drinks once or twice a month. None of them gave him shit after the breakup. Few of them noticed. This is how most teams operate. Evan, however, looks surprised and a little sad. "What were you hoping to hear?"
"I don't know." Evan looks away, suddenly self conscious. "That you messed yourself up at least half as much as you did me."
Tommy rubs at his face. "I didn't mean to mess you up, Buck. Truly. We- It just ran its course. It doesn't reflect badly on you, or me. This just happens."
He looks upset at first, then calculating. "What if I hooked up with those Not-Evans?"
Tommy looks behind him, searching for something that makes sense. "What if you moved to the moon? I have no idea what you're getting at right now."
"Would I be experienced enough for you if I let them have a go? They were terrible for you, so it stands to reason they'll be terrible for me, too." He lifts a finger, his eyes lighting up in a way that turns Tommy's stomach. "Oh, I guess one or two of those might be women. They don't count. Some might be bi and married to women. Do they count as half? If I bag a threesome, is that like seventy-five percent? Do you give points for polyamory?"
Tommy feels about eighty years old, and not a fit eighty. "When did I say even one of those things?"
"The implications were pretty clear, Tommy. 'You're just young and excited. You don't know what you're feeling or how to interpret anything going on in front of you.'"
Tommy doesn't know what to say to that. It's not remotely what he meant, but he's never been good at communicating through panic.
"Did you love me?" Evan asks quietly. Tommy can't look him in the face. "It felt like you- like you did, but when you let me go like that, like chopping off the top bit of a carrot, it made me re- reevaluate everything I thought I knew about us."
The note of devastation in his voice almost tips him over, but ultimately what does it is the implication that Tommy made Evan lose faith in himself. He can't abide being responsible for that. "Of course I love you, Evan. How could I not?"
The tightness in his chest, that felt so much like raw emotion, intensifies, growing sharper. It's hard to breathe now, like sucking a milkshake through a coffee stirrer, and he realizes, something is very wrong. About as wrong as it could possibly be.
"Oh," he says. An attempt to inflate his lungs all the way makes his vision go sparkly at the edges.
"Tommy?"
Tommy drags his eyes up to meet Evan's. "S- Sorry, I-" I wouldn't have said any of those things if I knew. "Sorry. Evan." You deserve better than a fucking deathbed love confession.
A rough hand grasps his neck, slowing his descent to the ground. "No, hey. Hey hey hey. Tommy, we'll figure this out." Evan sniffles and tries to smile. His tears are falling everywhere. "You're okay. You're fine. Just keep- keep breathing."
The coffee stirrer is about a millimeter wide. Tommy can feel the muscles in his neck straining like he's deadlifting his own weight. Evan rips Tommy's shirt open and he swears floridly, miserably. They both know what this is; they've seen it in a hundred MVAs. Cardiac tamponade. When his heart gives out from the strain of all the blood surrounding it, chest compressions can be worse than useless. They could punch his ticket that much faster.
"Tommy," Evan says, pulling Tommy into his lap. The complaints from his splinted leg are distant, belonging to someone else entirely. Evan's voice is a ragged mess trying to piece itself together. His shoulder and ribs are probably killing him. "Don't run out again. You need to stay. Breathe."
Half a millimeter.
One quarter.
Tommy can't remember what comes after millimeter.
"That's it. I know it's hard, but keep trying. That's all I ask. Just try, okay? Look at me."
Micrometer? Is that it?
Evan's face is shadowed by the sun cresting over his shoulder. Tommy closes his eyes against the glare and is rewarded with a shake.
"Keep your eyes open. Stay with me. Just a little- little bit longer, please."
Fingers are running through his hair, lips are pressing against his forehead, and he thinks he can hear... sirens.
#bucktommy#911 abc#my writing#things by beanarie#there's a second part but it veered off to the left#and i'm not sure how to get back on course#so self contained for now!
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𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝.
☀︎︎ || With a long awaited reunion, Jayce finally gathers the courage to do something he should’ve done a long time ago.
C/W || nothing nsfw honestly, just lots of fluff, Reader’s gender isn’t implied here, appearance isn’t descriptive, Jayce is just awkward with feelings.
Word Count || 3,433
Note || I feel I should clarify that my whole driving force behind this was inspired by all the jayvik scenes (however you view them lmao), and the song ‘young and beautiful’. Some other things inspired this but mainly these things.
This is also a first I’m posting a fic about a character from Arcane, or arcane at all honestly so some honest criticism for my writing would be appreciated.
That scream repeated over and over in his mind, again and of course – again. Jayce was becoming tired, worn down. His heart began dulling out the environment around him, causing him to look forward, no baggage weighing in on the astral shoulders of his that bore a weight so greatly, for the reality of the supposed great arcane. He was trapped in it for so long.
Red, all he saw was red painting the calluses of his hands. His hands grabbing desperately onto yours, feeling the warmth, the sensation of that beloved warmth leaving your body.
(All he could do was choke out a cry. Silent in the loudness of the world crashing down around the being of you both.)
Another fabric of time, which would have also been his reality. In which you were enemies, Jayce, he wasn’t sure what side to be on. All he knew was to destroy what was necessary, you otherwise wanted to destroy him. Jayce tried to converse with you, yet his growls fell on deaf ears. He was trying to end things, he really was. His want clashed with yours, the need to end things. Jayce just wanted you to not be in pain anymore, and that look in your eyes, the tense stance, pained breathing punishing sharply in the cavity of your chest – that confirmed it for him.
But what was he becoming this time? (Man, or beast?)
He couldn’t tell.
A remaining constant rang true for him each and every time he was chained down in each memory, stone marble cracking in the face of your memory, he was almost beginning to forget what your face looked like. But that scream, it never left him. Your scream was the constant variable of which he experienced each and every time, and you almost always looked at him in fear.
Jayce hated that, he really hated that so much. Looked upon in unease, the sweat on your palms accumulating, and the trepidation rapidly beating in the confines of your ribcage; that heart of yours about ready to jump out, easily because of him.
On that cobblestone floor, cracked by death and echoes of explosion.
He couldn’t tell if you loved him–maybe as a friend–yet either way it was, once. He probably missed it, only looking past you right at others, Viktor, Mel, or even the face of the Hextech Gemstone. The way you were always so kind to greet him even if he didn’t remain a figure of importance in certain situations, you had always made an effort to include not only him, everyone else as well. You brought people together in a way he seldom noticed. But now that he was trapped in the belly of the beast, he thought about it more often.
Jayce truly realized that you had. (But did he ever deserve it? He was beastly toward you often.)
One step after the other, and he realized harshly–being brought back to the now. Something, or someone was far ahead of him. In this void of darkness, and even the occasion of the beautifully loud rainbow swarms, he had never come across someone real. So he began to rush forward, keeping a vice grip on his hammer.
He choked out a shout, feeling his esophagus sore and weak. His body creaked, bones clicking against each other softly, and every which way he twisted himself — he could hear it. Jayce could clearly feel the way his joints had sanded, slowly creaking under the weight of herculean effort to press forward.
The dull ache pressed in his chest, but he couldn't help the youth that springed him forward for a momentary transition in time.
A voice echoes, so strikingly similar to someone he holds dear. And he wonders if that was really the real deal, but he was easily proven wrong once the being speaks; “You must not fail, Jayce.”
Not Fail.
Must, not fail. The accursed organism had repeatedly told him that same mantra over and over again. He was pushed through the time lapse, and forced to relive the gruesome experience of being a human. The poor decisions made, the hope (and the false).
It was easily his driving force as he made it through the dark glowering of magicks that cursed his downfall, and the others around him. Jayce tried not to open his eyes as the sharp pains followed his limbs, intakes of breathing that punished him with every step he took. Yet it was sudden as he felt a ghostly touch impressed into his upper back, causing him to twitch, swerving his head nearly off the hinges as he looked to see whom the cause of the touch was. The crinkles beneath his eyes expressed clear frustration, as he was tricked once again. Jayce cursed himself mentally as he trudged forward, the onslaught of surprises resuming once again when the light gleamed – jarring as can be for a low fluorescent tone. He recapitulated his position, standing firmly into whatever ground there was irrespective of the pain. Jayce’s hands were worn with exhaustion, each and every ache screaming at him to fall down, rest.
Imaginably he could, but he dared not too. (He couldn’t rest, not again.)
This was his last resort, he was not capable of letting it happen again. He needed to make sure nobody died, he needed to make sure it wasn’t out of bleeding, feeling cold. He knew it far too well, and he was going to make sure he was doing everything in his power to–
Oh wow.
It was painful–painless–for a few moments, leaving him disoriented as he grunted, trying to accumulate to his new surroundings. He wondered where he was now, what would it show him next?
He blinks for a few moments, struggling to stand up as he supports his weight on the hammer. Inevitably cracking his neck, easing himself of the sore pains that riddled his neck and even the rest of his body. His leg was where it had really hurt for the matter, but no reason to worry, he was ready for whatever was gonna come next.
“Jayce?” A gasp escapes his throat, ebbing it raw, his eyes blurring into clearness for the first time. He furrows his brow, attempting to get a clearer look at the source. The man was worn from battle–he tenses, fully rising to his height.
(He heard a voice, and it was yours. Not an illusion, not a past memory. It was really that same cadence that not even the arcane could replicate.)
His throat bobs, churning with a burn that reminds him that he really is here. Where he had first disappeared in the first place, the accursed base of the HexGate facility. Jayce really, really had begun to hate HexTech. His eyes briefly scorn the intricate designs, almost weaved like the stories in tapestries. The stories were wrong, they always had been wrong. He should’ve listened to Heimerdinger, he should've listened to the professor.
What was he doing?
Oh god.
“Is that you?” His eyes flicker back over to the one other person in the room, right in front of him. Jayce attempted—couldn’t—to look you in the eye, it was a difficult thing to do. His brows furrowed, a headache came to the forefront of his pain, and he closed his eyes. He heaved a heavy sigh–he was ashamed.
Killing came so easy to him now, so why is this now any different?
Deciding to test the waters he quietly muttered your name, followed by a gentle greeting; “Hey.” Jayce murmurs, his bottom lip quivered for a moment.
You could see how cracked his lips were, and it made you almost worry for him. Of course, you should be. But you didn’t want to rush him, the way he had carried himself, you could see he was still far too tense and on edge. Both of you were thinking the same, worried about the other, still wanting to embrace each other–even so used to the touches of danger. It was in consideration, that made it all too painfully slow in this reunion. You nodded your head, taking a step forward.
“You’ve been gone quite awhile,” You verbalized with a tilt of your head, gesturing about the length of his absence. “I was… worried.” He gave pause to your comment, a slight widening of his eyes as he lifted his gaze, albeit shortly enough to reach your torso. You looked different from what he remembered, just right there was enough to make him realize the passage of time.
“How–I, how long have I been gone?” He internally winced at the way his voice sounded, his throat felt so sore. Jayce wasn’t sure himself, he felt it best to ask you. He understood that time had passed extensively, not how much for the matter, he felt it passing entirely differently during his time within the core of the arcane–whatever its physical being is. Something entirely reminiscent of a curse. He despised it so much for leaving you and the others without warning. But yet again, he hadn’t taken a step back to think about his words and actions, and how easily he could hurt others. Jayce knew better than that now, atleast.
He could almost feel the hesitation radiating off of you, as if answering would be the end of all things. Jayce heaved a mournful breath, letting his eyes close.
(Maybe it would, he wasn’t sure. Jayce didn’t want you to be afraid of him, is all.)
The room was cold, cold as the winter storm of the day he crossed paths with the arcane, he had almost forgotten that. Yet it was useless when he felt the warmth of something inexplicable touching his cheek, leathery he must feel. Jayce felt the way his skin hardened, the way his body tenses when he’s touched. But–that wasn’t the case here, no.
A small gentle pad of the thumb swiped over the area, leaving him to open his eyes – inextricably locking gazes. Jayce was left surprised, almost recoiling for a split-moment. You kept a firm hold, your gaze all but gentle. Which was the last thing he expected, he searched any inch of your expression, and not once did your eyes falter in that interval of time. Jayce was tempted to stray away from your touch, every nerve in his being telling him to do so. However, it was something else that let him stay in the same position. That same stance, and he was unable to run away from it.
Jayce grimaced, holding his head. Another episode, what he’s seen. Far too much of it, you concluded.
He could see flashes of something unholy, far too close to the sun, or perhaps far too close to the moon. Jayce could see the debilitating deflections of creatures, something supernatural, the coarseness of rainbows. It was the way his lungs squeezed upon itself, twisting in a macabre manner of gestations that left him breathless for a meager few moments. You simply held him through it, and gently murmured, drawing his attention to you once more. Whatever he saw, it was the countless hours of death, it was inescapable. Blurry had it appeared to be once over, as he never wanted to recall the things he experienced. The last thing that had never been blocked out were those memories of you, dying over and over again, especially by his hands. It was in repetition that he blacked out so many times over, constantly finding himself in new arenas. Having to raise his hammer against someone else, seeing their blood splatter against the coldstone of the ground. Jayce wasn’t sure how he hadn’t–broken.
It always felt far too real to him, he was sure it had. The heavy heart that corones his emotions, the way he acts. Probably in that alone that he had caused the deaths of so many innocents so many times, even for a different fabric in the space-fold of time, it still happened. Jayce didn’t want that to happen to you–not again–to anyone else.
With the impossible decisions, and the road he had walked so far. There was nothing short of a future, or a dream for him anymore. He had to fight, even if that meant physically. Jayce knew there was something different in this life of his, he just wished this wasn’t the truth of it. He grieved it even, but he couldn’t truly be given time to process that. Life does not slow down for anyone, not even you, and not even him. One is only human after all, and you sure as hell make the most of it, the best you can, even if people may hate you for the smallest thing. It is innately the most human thing that truly makes each and every person kind, despite their supposed repugnant nature that makes mankind so infamous.
“Jayce,” You murmured, a tone so soft, he didn’t deserve it. “Can you please look at me?” Almost to your whims, he felt so commanded. A rarity in such matters, that he didn’t mind it. Such a simple action, and it seemed so difficult though. But he tried, and succeeded.
For the second time now, he locked eyes with you. His gaze was colored by bashfulness, leaving you to laugh. A tender touch, revering the inches of encroaching warmth that crawled back into his skin bit by bit. You breathed a puff of air, noting the cold atmosphere.
‘He must’ve been cold before he came back out.’ You scrutinized the details for a moment, and considered how much time he spent. How long he went without proper warmth, the lack of temperature. Whatever or whomever it may have been that was his captor, you were glad he was finally freed for good, hopefully. You just were relieved that you could finally just see him, and know that he’s truly there (instead of just a delusion). Even if he appeared differently, he was still here.
“I really did miss you.” You mentioned, seeing the flicker of surprise, surmising the life that brought back the color in his eyes. Less dull now, and far more colorful within the beautiful amber–almost had you wishing you could stay trapped in it forever. Not forever maybe, that would mean you’d never be face to face with him directly, like now, where you stood stronger than ever. As you were more than willing to be a pillar of support for the broken man, who you guess appeared to see so much, it nearly broke his mind. For the brief moment of pause, you could see his jaw tighten, as if he was contemplating something, but wary to air out the thought.
He held the expectation that you would’ve been more fearful of him. Or at the very least angry, god knows he fully deserves that.
Your brows tighten, almost wincing at the knot in your forehead. You’ve done that especially way too much lately, even since Jayce’s sudden disappearance. It was a question of your own, nothing short of anger, all it really was confusion.
Jayce seemed to notice this, drawing you out of your short-lived predicament; “You… alright?” He muttered, somewhat hesitant to draw his hand over yours. He didn’t see himself deserving enough for that yet, not until he knew that it was by all rights okay with you. Only then you nodded to reassure him, biting the inside of your cheek as the moment passed.
Finally garnering the courage to the breadth of your chest, “How… or why have you been gone so long?” Jayce simply looks at you with a half-unreadable expression, as if he had expected this question. One way or another, he was always going to be faced with such a question. After all, he had been trapped inside the palace of the arcane, a presumably long life-time of experiences; enough to age him noticeably.
“I'll explain it,” He paused, a waver in his tone. “In time.” Jayce’s reluctance was more than easy to notice, so you nodded, not fully satisfied with the answer. But you had to wait for answers another time, there were reasonably far more important things to deal with right now. Whatever that may be considered.
So you opted for a hug (entirely and completely out of the blue).
The affectionate gesture, which could mean many things, surprised him. He didn’t count for this happening—it made his knees buckle, the weight hounding you to fall with him. Even with the vice grip he previously held on the handle. He let go of his hammer, wanting and using both arms to just utterly hug you back with the whole of his heart, and he was fulfilled. Nose buried in the crook of your neck, it was filled with your scent. Your own hold on him didn’t vacillate at all–which in retrospect–it gave way to a level of solace he never felt before.
He tightened his hold on you, a silent way of giving thanks, if nothing else. You were glad, happy even that he accepted your inhibited sudden gesture.
You leaned back, slowly but surely, just to check that Jayce wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a failure however [as good as you were at reading expressions], there was naught a hint of it at all. You tilted your head, eliciting a soft laugh from the man.
‘Mission successful!’
His soft laughter elicited a pavlovian response from you, leaving you to move your hands, cradling his face with both hands once again. Anything and everything seemed to fall short around you, for the long while you began to realize, lord you were far from attached to the thought however. His brows furrowed with a small grin, still finding it somewhat amusing with your subtle acts of nature. In spite of what preceded, the decedent time of passing made him begin to freeze.
Color began creeping up against the patches of his skin that crawled from the beginning of his mandible, nape of the neck, and now up to the cheek bones. Expression faltering. (“Hey, uh…”) He tried to muster, but despite that, it fell on deaf ears. Your gaze made him hot, and he was always on the fence on whether or not how he should react. Jayce wasn’t sure how to handle it really, cause you look at him as if he was all that was there in the room. The spark of motivation behind your learning, or even the nights and transitions of time where you listen to him talk about what makes him so inspired. Of course, he always made the effort to do the same, but it had made him wonder if you felt so similarly.
Yet, when he allowed his overthinking to fester, never bringing it up, he was afraid and just simply decided to not ask about it at all. Jayce was always a bit afraid about these things, but with what he's been through, he fears this may be the first and last time he’s allowed to see you.
With that being his driving force, how his heart raced, it gave him a burst of confidence. Jayce lowered his left hand to your hip, the other to holding your face. His eyes were soft, brows raised as if he were asking. It was first and foremost, but his heart continued to beat right up against the cavity of his chest.
There was a flicker of astonishment gleaming in your eyes, but it slowly disappeared, as if you ascertained what he was wanting, and frankly you found it sweet that he had asked for your permission. Nonetheless, you were more than delighted to oblige with his request.
Warmth blossomed exuberant in his chest, as if fireworks were being set off. The sensation it ignited in him was soulful. A first tentative brush, then a second time, more sure than ever now. Jayce’s breathing almost labored when he pulled back, and he could figure the same for you. In a way, it was as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders by such a simple act of love. Even with the moments passing, the two of you leaned against one another, relishing in the feeling that heightened your tension.
Though it did wear off quickly enough.
Jayce watched with patience of a thousand men as you leaned back, re-adjusting yourself as you spoke. And wasn’t it ever the truth.
“If you’ve done that earlier, then i probably wouldn’t even be here right now.” You remarked, causing him to laugh quietly.
(No shit.)
He should’ve done this sooner.
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x y/n#arcane x gender neutral reader#jayce talis#arcane jayce#jayce x reader
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that gold mine changed you | s.r.
in which Spencer won't open up to you following his release from prison and you've reached your breaking point
margovember
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warning: post prison/prison arc, lack of communication, chemist!reader, slightly proofread word count: 2.13k a/n: love this song. both the original and the phoebe bridgers cover.
i don’t wanna be here anymore; it all tastes like poison
You rifled through the dish that you kept on the entryway console, looking for your car keys so that you could get out. It was hard to describe the way you felt like a spinning top, not dizzy but out of control. Everything felt so out of control.
How could you let it get this bad? You breathed heavily as you fished your keys from the pottery and looped your finger through the key ring. Wiping your nose with the sleeve of your sweatshirt, your eyes caught onto some movement in your periphery.
“You’re leaving?” Spencer asked from down the hallway; his work clothes were rumpled and creased like he’d fallen asleep in them.
You had hoped that he would have the ability to ease himself back into society after three months of prison, and you always took the time to assure him that you would be there for him. Desperately, you tried to be a pillar of support, but you had reached your breaking point.
He’d been given six weeks to readjust. When that didn’t seem to be working, you thought maybe he needed to find his rhythm again, but going back to work at the BAU didn’t seem to help him either. It wasn’t until his first sabbatical hit that you finally considered the fact that things would never be the same between the two of you again.
When you didn’t answer, Spencer put his foot out but hesitated to take a step toward you. “Are you going to come back?”
Swallowing thickly, you looked down at the keys in your hand, “I don’t know.” You eyed the key to your lab, the one place you could always go to escape when you needed to, but you never imagined needing to escape from Spencer.
You weren’t even sure he had been sleeping in the same bed as you, and if he was, he was getting in after you and getting up before you. There was once a moment when you and Spencer shared every minute detail of your lives with each other, at least the parts you weren’t together for, but now you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what he was teaching in his lectures, and he couldn’t guess which projects you were working on.
When Spencer was in prison, you thought that was the loneliest you would ever be, but now you were living with the ghost of the man who you once loved, and you had never felt more alone.
Last week, you had practically begged him, very nearly gotten on your knees and pled with him to have a substantial conversation with you. He didn’t seem interested.
you believe that you love me
Looking back up, your eyes widened at the revelation that Spencer had made his way to you in complete silence; he was standing in front of you, “You’re sneaking out?”
Your nostrils flared in frustration; you were sneaking out of your own apartment, a space that you and Spencer were supposed to share, but it didn’t feel like home anymore. “Did I do something wrong?” You asked him, studying his brown eyes as they appeared until the cool light of the moon.
He set both of his hands on your upper arms, and you pulled away from his touch. Spencer flinched back as surely as if you’d struck him. If you pulling away from him hurt, then he wouldn’t be able to fathom how you were feeling right now—how you had been feeling for the last seven months.
“Is it because of your mom?” You tried again, silver lining your eyes as you looked up at him, mercurial tears streaming down your cheeks as you begged for an answer. “I was at work when she was abducted,” you reminded him, having thrown yourself into work while Spencer was in prison. “Is it because I didn’t help her?”
Spencer’s lips parted in surprise, “I didn’t know you blamed yourself for that.” His arms hung limply by his sides, fists clenching and unclenching in an attempt to release nervous energy.
Blinking tears from your eyes, your shoulders slouched at what felt like a rejection, “How would you? You don’t talk to me,” you told him, your tone wholly accusatory.
“We talk every day,” he rebutted, the energy in your conversation veering toward hostility. That’s not what you wanted; you just wanted to feel at peace.
Three months in prison, six weeks of mandatory leave, one hundred days with the team, twenty days into his first sabbatical, and Spencer was refusing to face what you had already run into headfirst. “We haven’t had a real conversation since February, Spencer. It’s September.”
His eyebrows pinched together as he studied your body language, profiling you to deduce what you wanted from him instead of just asking you. “What do you mean ‘a real conversation?’”
You pressed your lips together in a thin line, and you searched every part of your brain for something to say that wouldn’t contribute to taking your life apart brick by brick. You couldn’t. The words simply weren’t there anymore. Maybe you had left them behind months ago, but right now, you shrugged helplessly, “You’re different, Spence.”
He peered down at you as if you had offended him, “Did you expect me to stay the same?”
It was pathetic. You felt pathetic. Staying in your entryway and begging for someone who previously kissed the ground you walked on for a reason to stay. You never had to ask him before. “I’ve never expected anything but love from you, and you know that,” you told him, pulling the truth from the depths of your soul and putting it on display for him.
Spencer took a step back, stumbling as if his legs were threatening to give out beneath him. “You don’t think I love you anymore?” His own tears welled in his eyes, glittering saline along his lash line that made your chest ache.
You blinked, letting more tears fall down your cheeks. You heard the droplets as they fell on the vinyl decal of your sweatshirt, the only noise in the midst of an otherwise deathly silence. “You have given me no reason to believe that you do,” you admitted, your voice tight with emotion.
so, lose your faith in me
“Don’t leave,” he gasped, struggling through his tears. He held a hand out to you, too hesitant to touch you because of the way you reacted earlier.
You felt like you were tearing your own heart from your chest. You held the organ in your hands, blood dripping to the floor and seeping within the woodgrain, and you asked him to put it back where it belonged. “I can’t do this anymore,” you told him.
He set a hand on the side of your neck, and this time, you didn’t pull away from him. Instead, you savored his touch, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin as the two of you waited for something to give. Three months in prison had been a test of your relationship; you had very little contact with each other. Nothing face-to-face, and after a while, Spencer’s mail started to go missing—interference by a prison guard who had it out for him. You thought that getting him back would fix everything.
Spencer was exactly the same, but somehow, he was completely different after his release. You couldn’t fault him for what he had gone through in prison, but you refused to continue your pattern of dancing around each other.
“I love you,” he whispered, his voice so faint that you would’ve missed it had you not been searching for it. His breaths were quickening, and if it weren’t so dark, you’d be sure that his pupils were dilated in fear.
You pursed your lips, “Say it again.” You wanted to hear him. You needed to hear him. You so desperately wanted to hear him repeat himself so that you could throw your arms around him and let him know that everything was perfectly fine.
He panted, “I love you,” he echoed. “Please,” his voice broke, “I love you so much.”
“I want to believe you,” you breathed, looking back down at the keys that remained in your hand. As far as you were concerned, Spencer was the Patron Saint of Liars. He had the intelligence and the experience to become a master manipulator. He’d lied to you before. What was stopping him from doing it again? He knew that I love you was what you wanted to hear. When faced with telling a lie and losing you, the choice was laid out in front of him.
He nodded as if he understood, but you weren’t convinced that he possessed the bandwidth to fully comprehend why you were so unhappy. “I’m sorry for lying to you,” he whispered.
You lost your balance, your back slammed against the wall, and your eyes widened as a result of his apology, “Why?”
Spencer’s brown eyes widened as you slid down the wall, waiting until you were sat on the floor to speak again, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Mexico.”
“You could’ve told me,” you told him, “I could’ve helped you, Spencer. Then we could… Then maybe…” your voice trailed off, lost in a sea of hiccuping sobs.
Gingerly, Spencer lowered himself to the ground and took a seat next to you, “Maybe I wouldn’t have gone to jail. You’re right,” he admitted, “but maybe they would’ve killed you too. Maybe there would have been the same outcome as the one we got, or maybe it would have been much worse.”
Releasing a shuddering breath, you pulled your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around them. “Lorenz,” you murmured, closing your eyes to relieve some of the burning.
“The Butterfly Effect,” Spencer commented, “Small changes can have large consequences. I made a decision that had massive ramifications and negatively impacted you, and I haven’t been doing enough to fix it.”
You sighed, “You can’t fix it, Spence. It’s like a band-aid over a bullet hole.” You thumbed the hem of your sweatpants, opening your eyes just to stare straight ahead at the wall.
He hummed in what you sincerely hoped was understanding, “I took six years of building trust with you and destroyed it, and now when I tell you I love you, you don’t believe me.”
“You told me you were going to Houston,” you whispered.
“I told everyone I was going to Houston,” he said softly.
Your head snapped in his direction, “I deserved more than what everyone else got. I deserved an explanation, and instead, you lied to me. You lied to me, and then you wouldn’t even let me see you while you were in prison.”
The corners of his mouth downturned, “I didn’t want you to see me in there, and I didn’t want anyone else to see you in there.” You’d heard second hand from JJ that the men at Millburn had ogled her the entire time she was visiting Spencer, and maybe he had explained himself in one of the missing letters, but he hadn’t mentioned it since coming home.
“Spencer, I just want to talk with you,” you whispered. “I want to have a conversation with my boyfriend that doesn’t end with him creating some arbitrary mental block because he doesn’t think I can handle it.”
There was a moment where you thought he was just going to let you go, but Spencer Reid liked to keep the things he cared about close. “It’s not because you can’t handle it, it’s because I can’t handle it,” he admitted.
You turned your body to face him, “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to tell you about prison,” he clarified. “I barely want to tell my therapist about prison, but you—” his voice broke, and your heart went with it. “If I tell you everything I’ve done, you wouldn’t want to be with me anyway.”
You frowned, “Try me.” Your heart was racing; this bit here was decisive. His response would either mean letting go or moving forward.
He looked down at his lap, “Come to therapy with me tomorrow. It’s… there’s something about the leather couch that turns me into an open book.” He told you, nervously running his palms up and down his cloth-covered thighs. Instinctively, you reached out and grabbed his hands, putting a stop to his compulsive movements. He leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling, “Please don’t leave.”
Shaking your head, you sniffled through your tears. If you’d had more energy, maybe you would’ve given him a soft smile, but for now, you answered him, “I won’t.”
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid angst#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds angst#spencer reid x fem!reader#written by margot
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bello, not sure if your taking requests so this will be my little thirst😼
was thinking about the elf bf and how intimacy is so foreign to him! How good your touches feel on his heated skin but what was this odd feeling? The coil in his tummy getting tighter with each grind of his hips on your thigh. The feeling felt so weird.. it feels good? is this good? he doesn’t want to disappoint you, or worse, scare you away! so he stops himself, letting his hips slow their grind for a moment. Inadvertently edging himself!
id like to imagine if he touched himself he would stop before cumming as well, he doesn’t know what it is! it feels so odd, makes him feel hot all over!
After he slows his grinds, you would be a bit confused…, does he not want to cum? or does he want to wait til your inside him? it takes a bit before you even think that maybe he hasn’t gotten that far before, the idea that you get to corrupt him making your face heat. Goodness he would be so pretty, teary eyes begging for you to slow down. Hips bruised from how rough you had grabbed him!
and to think, when he finally cums? its so overwhelming. heat spreading through his body, mind numbing as his legs twitch slightly? his pretty cock leaking onto his stomach? GOOD LORD I NEED IT💥💥💥
ty for listening nobu🫶🏼 we love you pls dont die
(low key my first ask, hope you enjoyed as i dont write much)
bellooooo, me is not taking requests for now but im still open for brainrots/thirsts!!!!
good lawdddd y’all gotta stop corrupting me more, my horny level can’t keep up guys. so i haven’t read the history of middle earth and all abt the biologies and cultures of the races tolkien created but i have come across multiple posts or points of people pointing out that sex and intimacy is an extremely important and raw thing. like how a constant friction creates fire over time and how that fire spreads into a wildfire that consumes everything, that’s how it is to elves and their culture. courting is important and it could go for a very long time until they decide to officially tie the knot. yet even after getting married, the consummation won’t happen in a while, first the couple must at least intertwine their fëa (soul) and so, the consummation act is more intense and powerful. its a very draining thing, when elves fuck, they fuck. long and hard, probably all night and into the next morning and even evening perhaps. they’re immortals, they have a monster amount of stamina
so with this info in mind, u gotta realize that elves do have knowledge of sex, how it usually feels etc and how near sacred it is to their kin. love is a fragile thing that will cross their eternal life only once and when they love, boy do they love. yet something tells me that despite having knowledge of sex, masturbation and other fleshly pleasures, they don’t participate in it much. its like they barely have anything that gets them pent up or sexually frustrated until they fall in love. and if it is a mortal? oh boy, they are confused and yearning. it’s like an instant neuron activation for them
the poor elf would barely know what to do with these thoughts and imaginations of you and him in such a compromising position. images of you guiding him through your first times together, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings into his sensitive, pointy ear while he shrivels with embarrassing noises on your lap. oh how those calloused, hardened hands would feel when tightly fisting at his cock, draining him dry and milking every last drop of his cum. how those long, thick fingers would feel when thrusting inside him, scissoring him open and making him squeal. good god, don’t even get him started on the dirty images he thinks of you when he looks at those arms and thighs of yours, he’s imagining himself riding that muscle until he soils his pants or how your hands would push his head down to fully swallow your cock into his throat
would it taste as how it is described in the eroticas? would your precum be salty as your thick cock head pushes past his soft lips with your soothing voice instructing him to “open wide, puppy”? would you be so mean as to fist at his gorgeous locks and fuck into his mouth, use him to your own pleasure? he would be a good puppy for that, taking whatever you had to give him with red cheeks and hands obediently held on his lap. like a good puppy, he would open his mouth, tongue out like an eager little dog waiting for the taste of his favorite snack as you stroke your dick, a low moan falling as he finally taste your load shoot into his awaiting open jaws
and when his dirty thoughts are finally granted and turned into reality? he’s a goner. scrambling on his feet, tripping over his words, mind blanking as he feels your hands grope his ass over the linen of his pants. feeling like a young ellon rather than the full grown elf he is when your hands fiddle with the buckle of your belt, gulping down the saliva in his mouth as he sees your strap spring out of your undergarment
with a shaky hand, he would grip your strap, meagerly stroking his hands up and down with a stuttered “i-is this okay…?” oh dear stars, how badly you wanted to just fuck him dumb right then and there, seeing the cute pouting lips, big eyes staring at you for an approval as he weakly asks for your preference. how fast he is to crumble when he feels your rough hand wrap around both your and his own dicks, stroking them together with a slow pace, occasionally spitting on them. his mind was already blanking, and he was sure that he had already came into your hand the moment you touched him
“w-wait a—annh!! mmh uhnng♡︎ h-hold owwnn♡︎ i ju-ust c-came! i came alreanngh already...♡︎!!” the poor elf weakly cried out, falling back into the sea of soft pillows as his hands shook by his chest, where he held them close to himself. he was sure you could hear the rapid beating of his heart, embarrassed by the noises he kept letting out despite biting down on his lips to shut himself up. poor sweetheart, doesn’t even know that the thing dripping down onto his stomach is his pre-ejaculation and not his cum! “shh shh… it’s alright, darling. i’ll be sure to teach you all about the fleshly pleasures tonight♡︎” and you were going to absolutely ruin him
sweet virgin elf who crumples into a heap of mess after experiencing his first cum. moaning and even squealing as his hands flailed around, unable to choose whether to hold onto your arms or to claw at the blanket beneath himself as you continue to keep going despite his whines of having already came. you were so mean, quickening your pace and even squeezing your dicks together, he was so sure that he blacked out when you first did that or swiped a thumb over his oozing tip. arms covering his face to hide the flush of his cheeks and the drooped ears, crying out to you that he was going to die. so dramatic
“sh-stooohpp..! stop stopstopstop—stop it♡︎♡︎! i came!! i nyaagh ungh guhc—came! i alreaawdyy camee…♥︎!” the elf cried out, already slurring his words together as his hips grind back and forth on the bed until your free hand comes up to keep it down in place with a bruising grip. your sweet boyfriend could only cry out, a broken whine falling as he shook his head, looking down at your hand that held down his hip before shifting to look at where your cocks were touching. held together in a tight fist, your hand already soiled with his cute load of precum as well as his stomach. he never noticed it before but gods, your strap was dwarfing him in size and girth. he would surely die if he takes that big thing inside himself!
but when you don’t seem to hear his pleas and only continue to fuck your strap and his weeping cock together in a faster pace into the tight grip of your fist — even rocking your hips forward too! — the poor elf was sure he was going to see the bright skies of valinor that night. whimpers turning into broken wails, punched out sobs of your name falling out of his now bloodied lips as he covers his face with his hands. he could feel the hot tears that fell from his eyes, wiping them away with cute pathetic sniffles as you tighten your fist just at the heads. another squeeze and one more before he was crying out your name in a shrill scream, his legs around your hips tightening, shaking even, as he finally feels himself cumming alongside you. translucent colored seeds mixing together, dirtying his stomach and even shooting up to his heaving chest
“…s-shoo goowdd… aaanh hhagc—♡︎ c-cum..♥︎ cumming ’gainn hhgaaa♥︎ ughk haahg [n-naawme], [namenamenamena—]♥︎♥︎” the elf sobbed out weakly, a putty in your hands as he feels his cock slowly grow flaccid. if it weren’t for the rough pads of your fingers tracing circles around his clenching rim and the feeling of your clean hand push away his hands from his face, your elf bf would have most definitely been sure that he had died and was re-embodied. yet despite the fuzziness in his brain and the way his blood seemed to circulate too quickly through his veins, his body unconsciously pressed itself against you, against your fingers as if seeking for more pleasure
thats enough thirsting yall, go do yalls assignments
#nobu.writes#nobu.brainrots#dom reader#sub character#x dom reader#sub!character#sub lotr#sub lord of the rings#sub the hobbit#sub hobbit#lotr x reader#lord of the rings x reader#lotr x y/n#lotr x you#lord of the rings x y/n#lord of the rings x you#the hobbit x reader#the hobbit x you#the hobbit x y/n#silmarillion x reader#lotr smut#lord of the rings smut#the hobbit smut#silmarillion smut#silm smut#gender neutral reader
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Odd One Out
JJ Maybank x fem!reader
Summary: Reader feels invisible around the Pogues.
Warnings: Crying, feeling strongly excluded, comfort, mention of disease, etc.
Note: I know this wasn’t part of my “Future Stories” post, but it’s been a side story for too long so I decided to post it! Hope you like it!
Masterlist
“I’m tellin’ ya, pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza, that’s uh,” Pope chuckled at the silly conversation of debate whether the topping belongs on the delicious food or not before finishing his sentence, “the end of discussion. Debate closed.”
The whole room was still trying to wear off its laughter, a few people still going off in a fit before calming down again.
The girl was laughing too, just a lot softer and less full of….what’s the word….happiness.
Most of the time she didn’t know what the jokes were about, or the little references they would whisper to each other were on the topic of. It didn’t help the fact that she was sitting away from the majority of the group, the one sitter arm chair away from the couch they crowded.
She still remembers the encounter of them practically pushing her away from the group, forcing her to sit on the chair alone. She had walked in with them, all of them still laughing at some joke JJ said but of course she couldn’t get a word in on what he spoke at all, for she was always in the back of the group anyhow. The friends had walked in the house, one by one plopping on the couch or on the floor in front of it, so there wasn’t a single little space for her to squeeze in.
If she thought back deeper and shut her eyes, she could still feel the stare they laid upon her, waiting to see her point of action towards the matter. It was almost like they didn’t like her, like if she went near one of the particular that very person would be the unlucky girl or boy to have to deal with her for the rest of the hang out.
So yeah, her cheeks flushed deep red as she stumbled over crossed legs and ankles towards the back of the room, muttering soft pathetic apologies before sitting in the very chair she is sitting in now.
Now it wasn’t so bad, just that she was in the back, meaning all she could see were backs of heads and once in a while profiles. So the bit of participation she wished she had was no longer available, so now she was sitting in the chair, her legs crossed apple sauce style so they wouldn’t accidentally kick someone.
JJ was so close. So close that all she had to do in order to talk to him was tap him on the shoulder. He would turn around and talk to her and smile, giving her one of those blue eye sparkles. Maybe then she’d-
If she kept thinking like this she’d never be able to participate in the conversation. So she forced out a chuckle, trying to ease herself in.
Maybe she could squeeze her own voice in with all the others? If there’s room for them there has to be room for her too, right?
“One time I went to a pizza shop and-“
Her voice dyed out, the response being absolutely nothing. No eye contact, no expression change, not even a glance from anyone, almost like they didn’t even hear her.
She was speaking loud enough, the same volume of everyone else, but she also didn’t want to talk over the whole group just for a grab of attention.
So the conversation she wasn’t included in continued, someone else’s voice covering hers.
That someone else being Kiera, who of course everyone has to pay attention to. “Yeah, I agree, no more pineapple on pizza talk, maybe we should get actual pizza.” She suggested, and everyone loved the sound of that.
So did she, her stomach being the other thing she was thinking about besides the fact she wasn’t being included. She got up with the others, heading out the door behind JJ.
If she just tapped him on the shoulder-
He closed the door. Maybe he didn’t see her, since there was a corner to go around before exiting the house, but he didn’t forget about her, right?
She stared at the closed door, the past events causing small tears to arise in her eyes.
No.
She can’t cry just because someone closed the door in her face. It was such a small thing, a small action of a mistake he might’ve made. She almost expected him to come back, staring at the handle to see if it would twist, awaiting his face to pop in and apologize for the little thing he did.
But he never came.
She took a sharp breath in, reaching forward for the handle herself and leaving the house.
The group was outside piling into the Twinkie, talking about. She went to the side door too, hoping she could squeeze in somewhere.
But all the seats were full, and all the pitiful eyes were on her.
“Oh, there’s no room. Maybe you could drive in your car and meet us there?” Sarah suggested, and it was the first time that day they spoke directly to her. And it should’ve been something she enjoyed, like a little invitation to join the conversation or an offer to squeeze next to someone, them willing to be a little bit uncomfortable just so she could join.
But it was something she wished didn’t happen, because why did she even go to the side of the car in the first place? Did she really think there would be room for her?
“Or someone could squeeze over..?” Sarah trailed off, looking over at the rooms of people, and the girl couldn’t help but notice how John B moved closer to the edge with the window, covering a small space. Her heart broke.
“Or ya could sit on my lap, Princess.” She heard JJ chuckle, and she glanced at him, her broken little heart believing him for a second, her cheeks softly flushing, before realizing it was a joke. Some people laughed, Kie smacking JJ on the arm but there was a smirk on her lips.
The girl cleared her throat awkwardly, fiddling with her hands, all eyes still on her.
“Yeah, I’m not gonna go anymore, I’ll just go home…I’m not feeling so well.” She had to come up with some excuse, some ticket to get out of there, not like they would miss her at all.
She just walked away, heading to the sidewalk to walk home. Alone.
No one wished her well, despite her lie, but she still wished to at least get a “get well soon” or a “goodbye”.
Nothing. Just pity looks as she walked away, not long before chatter filled the car once more and they drove off.
She didn’t feel like eating anymore, despite her stomach yelling at her because she missed the only chance to eat; they would probably make her pay for her own meal anyway.
So she headed home, arms crossed as tears finally made their way down her cheeks. It hurt, the concept of not being included. She was the nickel out of all the pennies. They were all tan skin and smiles, considering themselves lucky because they found each other, very similar to being lucky when you find a penny. But she was all silver and plain, having a different engraving on her and being a different size than everyone else; they were all small and sweet, yet she was the biggest fool out of all of them.
She hated being a nickel. What did she have to do to be a penny?
She didn’t know, and that right there made her cry harder. She wiped at the tears but nothing worked, for whole rivers were already down her face by now. Her heart cracked, she felt it, because she knew if John B moved over just a little there would be enough room for her to sit with them.
But he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to sit next to her, like she was some sort of disgusting disease that he didn’t want to catch.
All she wanted was to be included, to feel loved and fit in by them. But she’ll always be the odd one out.
She fell asleep crying, and woke up hungry since she skipped dinner the day before.
She got out of bed, seeing her red-eyed self in the mirror while brushing her teeth.
She decided to go out today, to JJ’s house.
Now, it didn’t seem like a good decision, but she needed comfort and he was the only person she knew that would provide it. Maybe she would tell him how she’s feeling, not the crying all the way home part, and he would assure her he likes her in the group.
At least that’s what her brain told her he’d say.
Because her mother wouldn’t understand, plus she had other things to deal with, and she didn’t want to bother her father with all the work loads he had on his mind.
But JJ, he was the shiniest penny of all of them, and he seems like the only person to trust. Sadly she didn’t forget about the joke he made the day prior, suggesting she sat on his lap, but it was a one time thing and he could’ve been peer pressured to make it.
That’s what her brain kept telling her.
But the morning was sunny and warm, practically begging for her to enjoy it so she couldn’t refuse.
She put on some Jean shorts and a sun shirt, putting some knitted bracelets on her wrist because she saw everyone else wearing one; plus they were fun to make.
She had made one for JJ, his two favorite colors she overheard him reveal tied into the bracelet. She was gonna bring it to his house, maybe have the courage to give it to him.
She got to his house on foot, spotting his blob of blonde hair behind his car hood, where it normally was.
She shyly made her way over, gazing at his car to pass time. She liked how rusty it was, showing its age but it was still quite clean, like it was his prize possession. (It probably was)
“She looks good, doesn’t she?”
She flinched, looking over at him and making eye contact. His blues were something she admired, but looking directly into them overwhelmed her so she looked away. He chuckled.
One of the main reasons why she went to him was because JJ was the type of person who could talk to anybody. He knew the words to say or the way to talk to make the person comfortable (friend wise that is.)
She hoped he would do just that while he talks to her, and so far so good.
She nodded in response, hands in her back pockets of her shorts and fiddling with the bracelet she made him.
“Yeah, looks great.” She assured, despite the fact that she knew he already knew that, but then again it was all worth the smirk he gave in response, leaning back into the hood.
“What’s wrong with it?” She had the courage to ask, hands out of her pockets now and fingers fiddling together.
He shook his head. “Absolutely nothin’, just had to replace the engine.”
She smiled softly at that, glad that there wasn’t anything severely wrong with his car. “That’s good.”
He nodded, clearly half listening but she knew it was only because he was so focused on the task at hand.
They fell into silence for a little bit, and she was kinda glad he didn’t ask why she was there, mainly because she needed time to build up the courage to start the topic.
“Hey, JJ?” She blurted out, forcing her lips to move. Her heart started beating quite quickly. He looked up at her briefly at the acknowledgment before glancing back down, letting her know he was listening.
“Mm?” He hummed.
“Um,” she started, fiddling with her hands harder than before and trying to ignore the surprisingly annoying racing of her heart. “I noticed yesterday-“
“You noticed the toilet paper I put on John B’s shoe? You didn’t tell him, did you?” He interrupted, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her. She’s always wanted an eye sparkle from him, that meant the topic was mischievous and exciting for him.
But now wasn’t the time, for she needed to get to the point before her courage wore off. “Well, no, I didn’t tell him, but-“
He let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I wanted it to be there when we went to get pizza, which…”
He slowly trailed off, realizing she wasn’t there when they went out.
She swallowed nervously, feeling her cheeks flush. “Yeah, whatever, anyway, I really need to talk to you about something.”
She was satisfied that she could get that sentence out, for the courage in her chest hasn’t left yet.
His face drew back, twisting with confusion but he looked okay with it. “Okay, what’s up, sugar?” He said casually, leaning back down and popping the old engine out, lifting it before placing on the ground.
Her cheeks flushed red at the nickname, but brushed it off so she could stay on task. She kept telling herself that talking to him would help, so she really wanted to get her point across.
“Um, well, I’m feeling a bit, I don’t know, like I don’t…belong.”
The word: belong. It was something she always wanted to do, something she would die just for a taste of being it. It was something she so wanted to be that she held the word close to her heart, holding onto it tightly so it wouldn’t leave her. It was slowly fighting back against her grip ever since she met the group, yet she wanted friends so badly she kept trying.
She stared at JJ to see his reaction, watching as he lifted the new engine towards the car hood. He must have felt her stare because why else would he look up, eyes looking as clueless as ever.
“Did you say something?” He said, scratching his head, closing the hood.
“What?” She pathetically whispered, tears welling up but she blinked them away. She cleared her throat. “N-no, I didn’t say anything. I was gonna say I made this for you.”
Her voice was soft and helpless, setting the bracelet on the now closed hood of the car after taking it out of her pocket. He stared at it, eyes softening slightly before looking up, meeting her glossy eyes.
“I-I hope you like it,” She said, voice thick and her lips were quivering, tears so close to bursting themselves out.
“Woah, what’s wrong?” He said, stepping around his car and reaching for her, but she snatched her wrist out of his reach.
“You weren’t listening to me!” She sputtered. “Just like everyone else.”
“I’m sorry.” Was all he could get out because he was in shock at her outburst. Normally she is the quiet cute girl in the corner, now her eyebrows were furrowed in anger and her cheeks were red. Smoke was practically coming out of her ears.
“Sorry?” She quoted. “I have been feeling like this for weeks, and I finally had the courage to talk to someone, that someone being you of all people because I had a speck of hope that you would listen but when I do you can’t do that just this once?!”
“Feeling like what?” He said- almost demanded- his eyebrows furrowing. She threw her arms in the air in asasperation at his response, like out of the whole outburst she expressed the only thing he heard was that little part. “Does it even matter?” She almost yelled. “You had one chance to listen and you didn’t take it. If you cared you would’ve listened.”
“I do care, sugar,” he desperately assured. “I didn’t know you needed my full attention. I should’ve listened, and I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t even matter anymore, forget about it, JJ,” she said, wiping her cheeks before turning away.
“No no talk to me, princess. I’m listening I promise,” he whispered, dirty fingers curved around her wrist.
She turned to him, desire for someone to listen to her was strong.
Once he knew she wasn’t gonna leave, he let go of her wrist, the warmth from his touch leaving her. She fiddled with her fingers, looking into his eyes that seemed so sincere.“You promise?”
He nodded almost instantly. “I promise.”
He even held out his pinkie to her, making her laugh but seal the promise nonetheless.
The rest of the morning they sat and talked, JJ’s smile as big as ever and the threads tied around his wrist.
She laughed.
Laughed.
And she actually got to hear his jokes for once. The ones she missed, misheard, and never repeated for her.
And those sounds were as genuine as they could get, her heart singing as he gave her a real eye twinkle.
It was at that moment her heart fell, fell hard for the boy next to her.
And at their next hangout she didn’t have to sit on the chair alone like she normally does, for now she got to see on Maybank’s lap (as offered) as she laughed with the group and got to have her say.
She felt loved. Felt like she was included.
And, most important of all, she felt belonged.
-Tell me what you think? 🫶🏻
#jj maybank x reader#jj x fem reader#jj x y/n#outer banks#outer banks imagines#jj maybank#jj maybank x fem!reader#outer banks x reader#jj maybank fluff#outer banks fluff#outer banks angst#JJ maybank x reader angst
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hi! congratulations on 500 followers! could you make the full nsfw alphabet list with Idia please? (sorry for the bad English)
🍓I POSTED!!! I've had this sitting in the drafts for a week and I finally decided to post it (YAY!!!). I've also got Jade's qued up for later today, and I'll be working on Azul and Floyds in my free time (when I get free time that is). Sorry I took so long to post, life has been tough on me and I just didn't have the tools to deal with it. I'll be back and posting irregularly until December when I can actually take time and write again.
Idia NSFW Alphabet!
A = Aftercare: Idia Shroud is the WORST at aftercare, and I say this with so much love and kindness to the walking punching bag that calls himself a man. Genuinely though, sex overstimulates him so badly, so he cannot handle anything after the fact. He’s the kind to roll over off you (more like slide you off him) and fall asleep immediately. Of course, he mumbles out something about it feeling good and all that stuff, but 9 times out of 10 he’s out like a light.
B = Body part: He is a thigh man. He doesn’t care if it's thick and meaty, he just wants to rest his head on it. Maybe give it a nibble, if you’d let him of course (consent is key, even for a dirty Otaku like him). For him… he doesn’t like most things about himself, but if you seem to like something about him a lot, he grows to like it too. So if you like his hair, it’s probably his hair, if you like his lips or teeth it’s them. (What can I say, he’s weak for you).
C = Cum: SALTYYYYY! He doesn’t take care of himself what did you expect. It’s unpleasant to taste, and there’s A LOT of it to taste. It’s a pretty thick consistency and really sticky, fun to play with and watch dribble down your stomach and face.
D = Dirty secret: He wants you to peg him. I wouldn’t say that’s much of a secret, but he thinks it is.
E = Experience: NONE. Zip, zero, zilch. I make fun of Malleus for being a Virgin, but IDIA IS A VIRGIN. He’ll blush to hold your hand, it’s that bad. However, he does watch a LOT of Porn (Hentai specifically), so he has… an idea of what to do. He’s really nervous first time around, but once he gets comfortable with you he’s pretty good, just a little unrealistic in his expectations sometimes.
F = Favorite position: Doggy! Especially if you’re wearing cute little puppy or kitty ears! He likes watching the way your back arches, and he’s a big fan of pulling your hair or squeezing your hips. Other than that, he loves face-sitting. Surrounded by your thighs, oh that’s a good death for Idia Shroud.
G = Goofy: Initially, he is entirely on accident. He wants to be serious and cool about it, but he’s like a blushing schoolgirl and making a million mistakes. His line delivery is so… cringe and embarrassing you can’t help but laugh. It humiliates him, but eventually, he learns to just embrace it, and he becomes pretty goofy. He loves cracking jokes just to see you smile, cause the one thing he loves more than your thighs has to be your pretty little smile.
H = Hair: I know it’s blue flames too, I just know it. That shit is not tamed either. Like he trims, but honestly it’s hard to control something that's constantly shifting and changing. And, before you ask, yes it does flare up with his emotions like his hair does too.
I = Intimacy: Depends… Idia isn’t someone I would ever describe as romantic, but he is a sweetie. He likes it hard and rough so it’s hard to say it’s very romantic, but he does like you close and he loves looking at you. You catch him smiling down at you like you’re some kind of goddess sometimes. You won’t catch him saying cheesy lines like how much he loves you or how pretty you are (cause it will actually kill him if he does).
J = Jack off: Mastrubating champ of NRC. He’s alone in his room 90% of the time with unlimited access to the internet and is also an Otaku. Sorry if you disagree, but you’re wrong. I know he gets off at least once a day, more if he has the time.
K = Kink: Another biter, he just loves marking you up and sending you off with a pretty bruise for everyone to see. He’s a sadomasochist too, depending on whose topping. He wants you to push him around and hit him, make him feel helpless, it’s his favorite thing. Also into pet play, cosplay, roleplaying, and… any kind of play honestly. The weirder the better for him.
L = Location: His room and his room alone. Maybe yours, but he does not trust anyone in your dorm to respect your privacy. Besides, if he’s in his room he knows where everything is, and he can ensure no one will be getting in and seeing you that way.
M = Motivation: Most things, honestly. Be nice to him? He’s hard. Be mean to him? He’s hard. Beat him in his favorite game and act all smug (he let you win)? He’s hard. Lose and pout about it? He’s hard. He’s a sensitive guy, okay, and he thinks everything you do is super hot. Not his fault.
N = No: Share or let someone watch. Absolute nos from him. The idea of sharing you with someone and you like them more? Hah, he’d kill himself. He’s also not a fan of anyone seeing either of you in such a compromising position. He’s too nervous and possessive to let that out of the privacy of his room. Also, this might be controversial, but I can’t see him being into any kind of sibling shit. Too weird for him, he’d never want to think of his precious little brother like that, so why would he want to think of you like that?
O = Oral: He prefers receiving because watching the way you tease him with your sultry gaze as he sinks impossibly further down your throat is… heavenly. Though he isn’t bad at giving either. His tongue is long and boy can that thing move, it can reach places you didn’t even know were possible. Plus his teeth nipping at your most sensitive areas? Praise the seven, that’s good shit.
P = Pace: Fast and rough. He likes to just go at it, and he doesn’t like to stop for anything. Prepare to be pounded into next week with no stops!
Q = Quickie: He likes them, and they’re pretty common, but they’re not his favorite. When he has sex, he likes going for more than one round, and the whole point of quickies is that they’re quick so he doesn’t prefer them.
R = Risk: Yeah, he’s game to try some more risky things, but he’ll back out so fast if he’s uncomfortable for even a second. There are some things he wouldn’t consider, like bringing it out of his room. He’s a big fan of risky texts though. Like, a video of you fucking yourself in the bathroom while he’s in a meeting with the other housewardens? No one’s gonna know if he takes care of himself quickly.
S = Stamina: He goes for multiple fast and quick rounds. He can usually do about four of them before he’s done for the night, but he’s willing to keep going if he doesn’t satisfy your needs along with his (sometimes).
T = Toys: He has a collection, actually, of really wild shit. Tentacles, ‘alien’ dicks, and even the infamous horse cock. He likes to put a bullet in you and control it from his room, watching you struggle to talk to your friends on the cameras he’s definitely allowed to have access to.
U = Unfair: He likes to tease, but he forgets to sometimes lol. He gets so caught up in his own pleasure that, occasionally, he’ll just forget he wanted to tease you and make you all sensitive and whiny. He also likes to be teased, so please feel free to torture him when you’re topping <3
V = Volume: He tries very hard to be quiet, but bless his soul he is not. He’s so whiny and whimpery and pathetic, it’s very cute. He wants you to make as much noise as possible so that he can hide his shame, but he’ll still cry into your ear since he can’t contain himself.
W = Wild card: He sometimes prints out the pictures you send to him (with permission) and keeps them in his desk. There’s no real reason why, because he has all of them digitally, but something about having physical pictures is more thrilling to him.
X = X-ray: Hehehe, oh Idia. It is long and it is thick, bless his dad’s genetics. I’m talking like almost seven inches big, like… he’s big. It’s veiny, with one really prominent one on the top that runs from the base to just below his tip. Which, by the way, is blue like his lips.
Y = Yearning: High, if that wasn’t made obvious before. He craves sex a lot, and it only seems to get worse after he gets with you. You’re just so pretty and perfect he can’t help it <3Z = Zzz: I said it at the start, but it’s near immediate. He gets tired easily after all that physical exertion, he just wants to nap and cuddle, you can clean up in the morning. Let him hold you :(
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#x reader#bunni's treats 🧁#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#idia x reader#idia twst
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Here is the original ramble! Actually I will preface this new rb by saying please feel free to correct me if I am mistaken in misremembering anything in these!! Okay here it is under the cut proper
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Okay, so honestly this is more or less an excuse to ramble out an appreciation post (of sorts) on everyone tbh, since I do not do that often if ever. I'm just using the quote picks to keep me a bit focused on topics a bit more specific than being completely aimless!
[Also specialist of special shoutouts to my friends Squid and Aya for proofreading all this. Ily guys ever so dearly <3333]
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Mirabelle
"Avoidance, huh... That feels... a little too cowardly, for me."
The Housemaiden, who would probably fulfill the 'Hero' role if this was a normal RPG, Mirabelle! She has a lot going on that's so interesting to me!! Okay tbf everyone else does too but I really just needed a segue.
She's the chosen one that wasn't really chosen. The reason she was blessed was due to circumstance, and it wasn't even by the Change God either. Because of that, she feels immense pressure/imposter syndrome since she knows the truth of her blessing. Speaking of feelings, she also already felt like she’s failing her own faith for being comfortable with herself, in staying the same forever. For not wanting to Change in that way, when everyone else can, and feeling broken because of it. And, of course, she literally has anxiety and hasn’t had access to her meds throughout the entire quest. That probably also does not help in the slightest!! It's an interesting stewing pot of feeling like a fraud of a 'chosen one' with all that in mind.
And yet, her dedication to her faith and country shines through her actions and words, whether she knows it or not. She’s not someone to avoid her worries. She’ll face them, head-on, even if she doesn't think she'll succeed. I feel like this quote captures it best to me actually! Especially since it's a direct response to Sif saying that they try to avoid their own doubts and worries, in comparison to Mira’s own in her own faith. It almost feels like a subconscious response, and to me that says a lot.
[Side-tangent, but it's also interesting to me that this very dedication works against her, in a sense? Like, notably the bonding proposals. Beyond the societal pressures in play related to the Change belief, she is also the one to take the initiative to ask a dating company for bonding proposals, it didn't just happen around her (as in, no one suggested this to her)? Even when she isn't even interested in dating anyone to begin with! She's not interested in Changing in that way!!! That is to say, her head-on dedication can be to the point of her own detriment at times, to the point of bringing her woe? Not sure if I am wording this properly. Just a thought I had, idk if it has much merit tho. Sorry if that made like no sense!!]
But yeah! She gives it her all in just about everything she does!! She was already known as the most hardworking Housemaiden in the House, always striving to better herself, always taking new classes prior to all this (over 150! and she herself said that she couldn't do anything before coming to the House, which makes it all the more impressive). And when faced with the insurmountable task of saving her home, all of Vauguarde, from being frozen over by the King? She continues on to take on the mantle as the chosen one, the one who will save everyone, and she starts it off completely alone. She's the reason the journey was able to play out, and why everyone is together in the first place. All because she isn't one to avoid her doubts and worries, and willingness to do it scared, yanno? It's just a small part on what I appreciate about her, but I think I'm going to cut myself off here!
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Isabeau
"Doesn't that feel like someone you wouldn't feel ashamed of knowing?"
Isabeau!! Literally the whole “Change is destruction” convo that Isa has prior to this quote was up to be picked, but I figured picking the end would be easiest. But now that I think about it, I think all my picks are basically at the end of the FQ's so that point is sort of moot. Oh well! It's just hard to pick a singular quote off of these okay!!
Isabeau from the start of the game is shown to be portraying himself as a himbo. Big guy, dumb guy, the like. But, even from the start, there are signs that he really isn't stupid, like at all! First early gameish example I can think of off the top of my head, that distinctly shows this, is the color theory book. Mainly because he sort of kind of drops the facade for a split second there. Without proper context to his deal, it's just a funny moment. But, reflecting after the fact, it's more of an '...OH!' moment, since he seems to have been kinda upset about not knowing about colors (even if he's hamming it up a little bit, saying he's 'failed them all' for not knowing what colors were.) And that's not even going into his emotional intelligence either.
But, delving into his FQ the full picture is shown. That he wasn't always this big boisterous guy. He used to be the nerdiest kid around, incredibly shy, and because of that he didn't like himself much. But then he Changed and is much happier now, compared to back then! Even after his Change though, he's unhappy with some aspects of himself. He doesn’t like being considered dumb because of his act. And, even after Changing, that kid from before is still there, right? As much as he continues to project this air of cool confidence, he can never truly be rid of that part of his old self, can he? The one always paralyzed by fear.
With that, comes the quote pick! Since, to me, he's not necessarily talking to just Siffrin here, but also to himself. Because it all boils down to his own self-hatred, I think? He himself does mention this in the A5 version of this FQ, albeit kinda heat of the moment, that he "...keeps changing personalities like clothes, because it's easier than learning to like myself." He's still a work in progress in that regard. But even still, he is trying to be better, for the people he cares about.
[Small aside, that too can maybe stem from his own self-loathing? Putting the people he cares about first. I mean, he is the one who told Sif to focus on the others first. And even after that, he was putting focus onto Sif at first during his FQ (as in, talking about how he thought Sif would like seeing the stars, only letting the convo slide into focus unto himself after Sif made an obvious topic change.) The quote also kind of reads as an ask of reassurance, in a sense? That him Changing again would allow himself to be someone that people would like, even if he himself doesn't like himself. Idk where I was going with this tbh, but I think it makes sense to keep its inclusion here!]
Overall, I just think it's interesting to revisit Isa's previous dialogues with the context of the FQ!! Especially when thinking on the underlying reasons as to why the way he's acting the way he is, even while seeing signs from the start that he isn't the airhead he was masquerading as.
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Odile
"I'm Ka Buan and Vauguardian, in ways I do and don't realize... And I am also myself."
The Researcher, Odile! I think I’m just gonna jump right into it without a semblance of an intro since I know it’s going to be a lil less focused. Mainly because I know for a fact I will not be able to articulate this ramble that well, so here we go.
As the oldest party member, it makes sense that she's much further along in her own character development / self-discovery journey in comparison to the others (at least in relation to her FQ centered struggle on finding out more about herself in relation to her heritage), and I think her FQ, in itself, helps portray that. Compared to Mira and Isa, who are still in the midst of their own personal journey on how to address their turmoil and putting it to action, Bonnie, who is the youngest of the group and is learning how to tackle their issues to begin with, and Siffrin who is going through All That™; Odile has come to a conclusion about her own woes, where the others have not.
That’s part of the reason why I went with the quote pick actually! In a sense, it’s a display of self-assuredness in herself that can really only be gained with time and experience. She’s also able to explain her feelings on her heritage eloquently as well, and the convo prior to the quote helps express them too! It’s the recognition that yes, her mixed heritage helped shape who she is as a person in ways she may or may not realize, that it’s not the only factor at play here in regard to her identity. It’s the fact that, at the end of the day, what matters most is that she is herself, yanno?
Even with her self-assuredness towards herself, it’s also interesting to me how that contrasts her closed-offness to the others, especially in outright saying/showing that she cares? Which also probably also stems from her mother, someone who was supposed to love and care for her, leaving without a trace early on in life. It makes sense to me that she would have reluctance in showing that she cares for the others!! What if she ends up hurting others similarly to how her mother hurt her? Of course, she wouldn’t want to do that to the others, and is distinctly also why she does NOT want to be called a Mom.
[Tangent that doesn’t relate as much to the quote, but I want to touch upon anyway since it’s FQ related. I also want to point out that the FQ helps inform us why Odile is more willing to question things around her / be more sus? When her mother left, she left nothing behind, and with it, any links to her Vauguardian roots. This left her with a complete loss of that connection, one that was stolen from her and, with that, the feeling like she didn’t belong anywhere as a result. This led her to be curious enough to seek out a resolution to that feeling, lending more into her inquisitiveness on just about anything. How else would she be able to learn more about Vauguarde, without asking questions, after all!]
All in all, for Odile it’s a bit harder for me to elaborate on why I like her? I dunno, I think it’s just hard to sum it all up as eloquently as she probably could LOL.
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Bonnie
"So you can protect me, and I can protect you... And we can protect everyone, too!"
Bonnie!! TBH I had a toss-up on what specific quote the drawing would be based around. The other one being “You got hurt because of me and— And I don’t like it!!! I don’t want it to have happened! You should have stood there and let me be hurt!” . Because of the toss up both quotes will be discussed somewhat, since they go hand in hand with the ramble!
[To note, the toss-up was decided by putting it on a poll to my friends, as a simple “choose !” with the options being “joyful” or “angsty” with ZERO context. I told them after what the poll was for (basically if Bonnie would be crying or not in the drawing) and I got threatened for that one HAHA.]
But, to start, Bonnie has had, not once, but twice, people sacrificing themselves in some way for them (Nille telling them to run and getting frozen, Siffrin losing his eye.) Makes sense, because they're a kid, so of course those who are older need to protect them. Still, they are not happy about this, about people getting hurt because of them, and understandably so! It probably doesn't feel good to have your loved ones putting themselves in harm's way for your sake. But what can they do, right? They're a kid and don't really get a say on the matter. I mean, what else can they do? It makes sense to me that Bonnie is frustrated about that part!! It can be frustrating to have everyone discuss things around you, have everyone do things that you don't want them to, and (unintentionally or not), ignoring your input as a person because you are so young.
Kids are smarter than you think. Even if they may not have a full understanding of what's going on, they can certainly follow along and get the gist. Like, for example, Bonnie always listens in on the burial conversation during the second snack break (first found out either during a FQ run or in Memory of Promise). They even pretend not to hear whatever Siffrin says to make everyone think that they aren't listening in! They also seem to hone in completely to the conversation the second Isabeau says that it doesn't matter what happens to him after he dies, since they stop prepping at that point. Even worse, everyone starts discussing how they won't let Bonnie be killed. Which, if it comes to fruition, would be the third instance of people getting hurt because of them, and would be another thing they get zero say in! And everyone thinks they aren't listening in on it, meaning they were being discussed around. Plus, in Memory of Promise, while they don't have the words to articulate why everyone talking about their deaths is so upsetting to them, this context spells out the picture of them not wanting people to be hurt because of them, time and time again.
So when they get a proper opportunity to have a say on something, their promise with Siffrin on protecting one another, to protect everyone too? It makes the exchange all the sweeter to me! It's the first time, in probably a long time, Bonnie has had proper input on something from someone older than them on an important decision. For once, they get to stand on a more equal footing to an adult, rather than being treated as a kid who doesn't know what's going on. And, it probably means more to Bonnie than Siffrin realizes.
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There’s probably a lot more of examples/subtopics I am forgetting to add onto all of these but. Please forgive me, but a good chunk of this was written while I was travelling or in one sitting on my singular day off after travel ASDAFSA. I might genuinely be forgetting something I wanted to talk about, esp since I couldn't double check stuff easily. I've been going off a combination of memory and downloaded friend ISAT streams LMAOOO.
Feel free to correct me on stuff I possibly? Completely misconstrued as well?? Since that is entirely possible in happening! Or further add onto thoughts! In short feel free to extend the discussion on any of this! But yeah, wrangling (some) of my thoughts on why I like them has been fun :D
And to those of you who read all of this to the end, thank you for reading my ramblings!! And if you're skipping to the end, FAIR ENOUGH LMAO!!
Regardless though, I'll end this off with a fun lil fun fact about this post! If I scheduled this properly, it should be going up at 11:11... somewhere! I thought it'd be a fun easter egg to myself. Mainly bc I remember people always used to say "11:11, make a wish!" a lot when I was school whenever the clock struck that time. I just thought it'd be fitting to queue this up for that time is all :]
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Happy Anniversary In Stars and Time!! Have some Friend Quest based drawings :D
(These have specific quote picks related to them! And there's also a long ramble on why I like those specific quotes below if interested)
(And by long, I mean roughly 2k+ words of proper ramble total, so be warned before clicking keep reading this link right here to the rb!!)
#srb#miki muses#text#isat spoilers#<- now THIS one gets to be tagged specifically for a5 due to mention in the ramble#side tangent since i never said it in the original post since i was being sappy about the characters in general#but isat overall is important to me in the sense that it got me back into drawing?? more often??#before getting into it proper i maybe drew like... a doodle? once a month#maybe less a month actually#cuz i was super demotivated after losing a ton of oc related notes#like FOUR YEARS WORTH of notes!! from the notes app!! everything from 2016 - 2020!!!#all that gone couldnt remember any of it so it was hard to want to create yanno#but i got back into it more creatively with isat and for that i am infinitely grateful#side tangent 2 DO NOT SAVE ANY LONG TERM NOTES IN THE NOTES APP#I REPEAT DO NOT DO WHAT I DID.#i lost it all due to a syncing error with my emai and it just?? wasnt saving for several years#fr just save it somewhere else preferably decentralized multiple places or with cloud or something if u dont wanna lose it#i do not wish anyone to have that happen to them it suckedddd#okay geez wasnt supposed to do a tag talk here ah well
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This is the part of the helicopter crash fic I started writing today. I don't know if I'm going to post it to ao3 but I did want to share it here. Now, this first update is angst so read at your own risk, but it will be a happy ending, I promise. This is Tommy's pov and I'll be back with Buck's side of things and the aftermath as soon as I have finished writing them —
The silence is stark in the aftermath and Tommy’s ears ring like they are still expecting the screech of the altitude alarms or the roar of metal crashing into rocks and trees. He’s not sure what happened, one moment he was flying his helo back to Harbour and the next, the altitude alarms started going off one by one. He had tried to fix it, tried to pull the bird up even as it became amply clear that nothing was working. They had dropped fast, swinging this side and that with the wind and then his tail had hit the cliffside, sending him and his medic rolling down the mountain in a 30-tonne metal can. He doesn’t know what happened to her, Amy, a new recruit with a penchant for keeping to herself. That’s why they worked together so well, a good thing until it led them here.
“Amy?”, he manages to ask, his voice coming out hoarse. “Medic Garcia?”
There is nothing. Not even the sound of feeble breaths. Tommy swallows the burgeoning feeling of grief and panic and tries to think of a way out. It’s dead of the night, the scenery outside the broken glass of his wind-screen pitch black, the flickering lights of the city not even visible from where he’s landed. He tries to move himself and then immediately freezes as the pain threatens to take away his consciousness.
This is bad, he thinks. I don’t know how to get out of this one.
He is still strapped into his harness and beneath that, his flight suit is soaked with blood. It feels tacky and slippery against his skin, enough of it that he knows wherever it’s coming from, it’s not good news. It’s not survivable. His legs are pinned and he’s pretty sure the wet feeling around his eyes is blood. His ribs hurt and when he tries to move his hands, his shoulders refuse to bear the weight.
Oh, I am definitely not getting out of this one.
The realisation hits like G during a rapid climb and for the first time in long while, Tommy’s scared. He is terrified, as terrified as he hasn’t been since he was a wet-behind-his-ears boy seeing war for the first time. He thinks his hands would shake if he could move them that fast, his breath would stutter if it already wasn’t, wheezing past the damage, past the blood and tickling at his lips. He doesn’t want to die like this, the thought occurs to him. He doesn’t want to die at all. He wants to turn back time and return to those scant months when he had been, for once, truly happy. He wants . . . he wants Evan. Beside him, holding his hand, his fingers tracing the lines on Tommy’s palm as he talks about anything and everything that comes to his mind.
Maybe that is the thing about impending death. Its finality, its loneliness puts things into perspective really fast. When he had all the time in the world, he had faltered, he had a thousand and one excuses ready as to why it was a bad idea. Now that Tommy’s out of time, there is not one that seems to hold up to reason. He wants Evan, he loves Evan and he should have told him that when he still had the chance. He should have spent every second he had left loving him.
He somehow manages to take his phone out of his pocket, surprised to see that it’s still mostly intact, except for the one thin crack down the middle. He thumbs it open and there he is, brushed golden in the sun and laughing at something Tommy had said. It’s a damn shame he can’t remember anymore what that something had been. There’s no cell service on his phone, which is bad but it also relieves him. He doesn’t have to make a 911 call, only to tell them they are already too late and like this, he won’t give in to the urge to hear Evan’s voice one last time.
He opens their message thread like he has done so many times these past couple of weeks, typing and deleting messages that never seem to be able to convey his complicated thoughts. He clicks on the typing bar, watches the keyboard pop up and then just keeps on staring, looking at the bloody fingerprint on his screen as he tries to think of what to write. What last words do you text your ex-boyfriend who you broke up with? That I’m sorry and I think I’m an even bigger asshole than you probably think I am?
The pain in his body notches up, so spread out that he barely knows where it originates from and he grits his teeth with an effort to keep himself from screaming. Eventually, it passes and Tommy takes the opportunity to click on the voice message button to the right.
“Buck.”
He hates that name on his tongue.
“Evan.”, he starts and then stops again because it still doesn’t feel enough. It doesn’t feel like it encapsulates everything Tommy associates with that name — the warmth, the safety, the incredulous how is he real? and the helpless adoration that he just can’t seem to keep at bay no matter how much he tries. So, he gives it one more shot, “Evan. My Evan. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about a million things.”
A cough stops him, the movement jostling him enough that pain rips through him anew and he is left gasping and sobbing.
“I’m sorry I didn’t stay away. I’m sorry I didn’t leave earlier and I’m sorry I left when I did . . . I’m sorry I hurt you.”
He swallows the blood in his mouth or at least, he tries to but all of it comes out with the next cough.
“I should have stuck around. I should have stayed and I should have loved you as long as you let me. I should . . . I should have told you I love you. Even—even if you don’t and that’s okay. You should— you shouldn’t love someone like me but that was no reason to not tell you I did. I just . . . I should have loved you as hard as I could while I still had the chance, Evan. You, at least, deserved that.”
He’s getting colder by the second and the part of his brain that still works, tells him that he is going into shock. Tommy’s running out of time and he’s running out of time fast.
“I don’t want to die.”, he manages to say through the sobs racking through his throat. He thinks he should feel pain but there isn’t anything beyond numbness anymore, “I don’t want to die and I don’t want to go through death alone. I want you . . .”
No, but that’s not right, is it? He doesn’t want Evan in this mess. Evan doesn’t deserve to get hurt again just to accompany Tommy in his last moments. He should be far away, happy, healthy and at peace. Maybe it is better that they broke up. If this was always supposed to be the end, it is surely better that Evan no doubt hates Tommy a little bit now. Maybe, if he’s lucky, Evan will leave a flower on his grave one day.
“I really wanted to be your last, you know?”, he finally says after a minute of silence, the words spilling out almost conversationally, long after he thought he’s run out of things to say. “But more than that, I wanted you to be my last and I’m happy that I got it, even if it’s not in the way I wanted it to be.”
And it's so fucking typical of him, isn’t it? He is being so selfish right now, ruining Evan’s life like this just so he can get some things off his chest. And he knows Evan, he knows what this message will do to him. Evan will go through life with the burden of Tommy’s regret on his shoulders and he hates how tempting that thought is, that if not in his heart, Tommy’s existence will at least have a place in the scars he carries for the rest of his life.
Here lies Tommy Kinard. He’s the bastard that broke my heart once upon a time.
But no, he can’t do that to Evan. He’s been selfish when he kissed Evan the first time, when they decided to give it a second try and when he hurt Evan to protect himself. He’s been selfish every moment that he managed to steal in between.
“Nevermind.”, he breathes out, smiling through the blood that’s threatening to choke him. “Nevermind, Evan. You— you don’t need to know all that. You should forget me. Forget there was ever a Tommy Kinard who loved you. Live a happy life and maybe . . . maybe in our next one, I’ll get to keep you. I’ll delete this now. I would have deleted myself out of your life too if I could’ve but this will have to do. I’m really outta time here, kid.”
He tries to blink away the blind spots around the edges of his vision but he’s fading fast. He fights against the unmoored feeling that is taking over, tries to swipe his screen in hopes of deleting the message but his hands are too slick and too weak to do anything anymore. The phone slips from his grasp and falls with a thunk somewhere near his feet, not that it matters. Not when he can barely remember what he was doing with the phone in the first place. Something to do with Evan. Maybe.
He huffs at his uselessness.
“Evan.”, his lips shape the word with care even though his voice doesn’t quite manage to colour it fully but it’s enough. It’s enough to have that be the last thing he speaks, to be the last thing he thinks about. The name washes away the cold like dawning sunrise on a crisp winter morning and Tommy is at peace, he is content.
“Tommy?”
That’s Evan’s voice. He has to go. He has to answer. He has to—
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₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓖𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝓑𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝓑𝒐𝒚. WRIOTHESLEY ₊ ˙ ⊹ .
ৎ୭ — · · 1.4k ノ gn reader — sweet intimate celebration of his birthday. subtle flirting (a failed attempt at doing so). established relationship. comforting fluff with hugs and giggles <3
The atmosphere in the Duke’s office is rather light-hearted and joyful, unlike the usual stern reputation of the Fortress. The steady hum of machinery beyond the thick walls buzzes along with the quiet crackle of a small, ornate heater placed in the corner — a luxury in the underwater prison.
The tea table is neatly set, the gleaming silver teapot releasing curling wisps of steam into the air, mingling with the earthy, spiced aroma of Chenyu Adeptea — a new blend being a part of your gift. Though muted in tone, you two celebrate this day with the gentle clink of porcelain teacups and muffled laughter. The sharp tang of the sea breeze and metallic rust replaced with a delicate sweetness that hints at the rare delight.
“Mittens, huh?”
It’s the low timbre of Wriothesley’s voice that breaks temporary silence, testing out the lovely other part of your gift, fingers examining the texture. He takes his time making sure they fit snugly, the pair of fine-woven mittens. Albeit he couldn’t care less about how they look.
“Well, it’s cold here in the Fortress, and the humidity makes it unbearable sometimes…”
“I will make great punches in these.” He says with a note of chuckle at the end, all while testing his grip in the fluffy covers on his hands. “Look at them, my new gloves to punish lawbreakers!”
The very image of Wriothesley imitating boxing punches with the fists wrapped in the softest of fabrics makes you giggle loud. Loud and clear, a sound he adores so much when it reverberates from the stone walls and metal pipes like delicate chimes in the wind. The sound he misses every single minute when you have to return above the sea waves.
His place has never felt this warm before, with the candles flickering on the curved desk, the tea table heavy from the gifts from the staff, and — last but not least — his heart is about to melt, a glowing cauldron of fondness for you. You are simply there, smiling back at him, raising the teacup in a silent toast for his birthday.
For someone who took this post in selfless service to the people and their safety, the fact that they all care so much — but none as much as you — makes him want to serve them twice as much. Maybe working in the Fortress, in this new home of his, isn’t that bad after all. No, not in the slightest. No worse than if he were to restart his entire life on the surface, in the society he doesn’t remember from his early years.
“Do you like them?”
You seem to notice the pause, the thoughtful gaze he shoots at the pair of mittens on his knuckles.
“A lot.” He responds softly, rubbing his thumb against the soft fabric. “They will serve me well.”
Butterflies dance in your stomach with each passing moment of admiring the way his hands seem so much more gentle than they appear to be, the touch not as hard and coarse as he puts it across. Though there is a hint of sadness, a lingering melancholy at the thought of how the roughness of his fingertips was created, the callouses on his palms a result of years and years of fighting.
“I’m happy you like them.” You say, leaning forward. “I was worried it wouldn’t be enough.”
“Enough?!” Wriothesley raises an eyebrow under the tuft of his cobalt bangs, perplexed. “Never in a thousand years could I ever deserve what you give me!” He holds his mitten-wrapped hands up just to make a point. “These? These are cute! I have never received fluffy gloves from anyone before. Not even once. This is so fun! You are the sweetest for coming up with this idea!”
The tenderness of his voice, almost desperate to show how much it all means to him — it’s silly, hilarious even that a small gift can make such a difference — the fondness pouring from his eyes, like he’s pouring liquid honey over your soul. You find yourself moving closer, drawn to him, craving his closeness. Craving to wrap your arms around his waist and find the steady thumping of his heart amidst all other background noises.
“Should we get you a pair for every winter month, then?” You joke, shyly leaning against him, carefully observing his reaction. “Who would’ve thought that the Duke of Meropide is such a sweetheart, hm? A good boy under those scary looks, all giddy over a colourful yarn.”
Wriothesley doesn’t answer at first, fighting off a boisterous laugh. His mind is racing in several different directions, struggling to form coherent thoughts under your touch. He sighs, gently enveloping you into his embrace and letting himself indulge in this feeling just for a little while longer. It is not enough to have these small moments when you visit him here, but he gladly accepts anything you offer him, secretly hoping there’s a chance you will stay with him longer this time.
Anything, a glimmer of hope.
And now you are saying all these sweet things…
“Why would you want to get me more when I can have you wrapped in my arms every winter?” He asks in the same tone you used earlier, with a barely audible chuckle at the end of the sentence. “You’re much warmer, you know.”
“Ah, you and your flirting out of nowhere! Just when I’m least prepared.” You shake your head, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips to shake off the fire running to your face at his comment.
“Are you embarrassed now?” He smiles softly, his eyes glinting mischievously in the candlelight.
“No!” You pout, unwilling to admit how you do melt a little under his gaze. “I can flirt back too, if you wish.”
“Please.” He begs, chuckling as he says that. “Entertain me with your wits.”
He seems amused by this idea. Not in a teasing way, but rather playful, genuinely interested in what you are about to say. And so you give it a try, breathing in slowly to think of something… well, witty. Or at least funny enough to make him smile.
Obviously, as if asked to show your skills on request, your head is empty. This is embarrassing, not funny at all. But you cannot let him see that, trying to appear cool and nonchalant about it.
“Well, perhaps you’re right—” you begin, “you may have those fluffy mittens on your hands, but you will still need someone to warm up your heart.”
“I think I may be infected with a cold by now,” he replies, barely holding it together as he leans in for a bear hug, the entire lump of his large self covering you in hearty embrace. “I might need some extra cuddles.”
You squirm in his hold, pretending to struggle as if your plan is to run away — yet he knows well enough that it’s a playful ruse to get more affection out of him. He snuggles against your cheek, gently rubbing his nose against your skin. There is so much he wants to say, so many things that swirl in his head, and yet no words are uttered. He feels content to enjoy this moment with you.
No interruptions, no reminders that you have to return to the surface soon.
When Wriothesley lets go of you, his eyes fixate on the lines of your face, and your lips curl into a warm smile. His hands cup your cheeks gently, not wanting to ever let go. Your skin is soft under his touch, warm against the wool of the fluffy mittens. He traces the curves of your face with the gentleness of someone who is seeing you for the first time, every minute detail captured and studied. Every subtle feature — the glint in your eyes, the slight twitch of your mouth as you bite back a grin — he’s committing it all to memory.
“You are so beautiful,” he breathes out, his words hanging in the air between you like a thin thread of golden light. “I—”
“I love you more.” You interrupt him, stealing the kiss that was on the tip of his tongue, along with the confession.
Wriothesley lets out a pleased sound, almost like a low purr. The soft blush creeping onto his cheeks makes his face seem softer, somehow less threatening. The Duke of Meropide no longer towers over you like a mountain, but he is the most tender of the men. And you couldn’t have fallen in love with anyone else.
No, only with him.
“Happy birthday, Wriothesley.”
#—writing.#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact fluff#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin fluff#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x you#wriothesley fluff
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Love-Bombing.
Corazón (Rosinante Donquixote) x Female Reader.
I’ve been working on this for a good long while and I wanted to post it not only because I enjoyed writing Corazon’s personality but because I wanted to practice a bittersweet story. Writing dark stories kinda helps me practice and also makes it easier to write them the more I do, even if I shrivel up like a balloon while I do it.
Contains: SOMEWHAT UNCOMFORTABLE THEMES AHEAD! Use of sign language (Headcanon). Corazon is mute for the majority of this fic. An obsessive Corazón. Just about Corazón rushing a wanted relationship. Corazón and Reader are neighbors. Reader just recently moved in. Reader loves to cook. Reader and Corazón having a healthy relationship as neighbors. Corazón rushing their relationship a bit. Law makes an appearance. Mentions of Law being Corazón’s adoptive son. Non-consensual to consensual touching. Corazón breaking into Reader’s home. Dub-Con. Size difference kink. Oral & Fingering. Next part will contain…Y’know. This fic is a very long and also has a bit of time-skipping.
Corazón was sitting in the living room, his fingers softly pulling down the blinds as he stared out of the window observantly. He was paying attention, looking out for something…or rather someone.
A beautiful woman had just moved into the neighborhood a few weeks ago and boy could Corazón have not been more happier.
Ever since this beautiful woman has moved in, he hasn’t done anything else but stare out through his window, waiting for her to step outside for a bit or sit on her porch.
As he watched and waited patiently, the sound of his son’s voice startled him and causes him to gasp out shakily as if he’d just had a heart attack.
“Pops…You keep staring out at her yard…”
Corazón’s eyes widens in shock as he jumps from the sound of Law’s voice behind him, his hand nearly tearing the blinds before he quickly fixed them back up and whipped his head around. He looks down and see’s his adoptive son’s worrisome eyes staring up at him. His arms were crossed as he’d just witnessed and grew disappointed in his adoptive father’s distasteful behavior.
“L-Law!-“
“If you like her so much, why don’t you just talk to her more? It’s weird to just…watch you stare at her porch all day…” Law asked, patting him on the back while Corazón sighs out nervously. Corazón pouted and looked away before pulling his turtleneck up a bit more in slight shame.
“I’m a bit nervous to speak to her. She did just move into the neighborhood…Maybe she doesn’t want to be bothered…or pestered by my persistence..” Corazón admitted, asking himself if you’d be annoyed by his behavior. Law huffs out irritably and scratched at his raven strands before patting at his father’s back.
“I’m sure she’d be happy to talk to you since she’s new around here. It wouldn’t hurt to try and speak to her a bit more…” Law sighed to himself, his hand slowly lifting up off of Corazón’s back before he began leaving the living room. Corazón watched as his son leaves the living room before continuing to peek out the window, his eyes widening in sudden delight as he watched your beautiful figure step out onto your front porch.
You had brought a beautiful pot full of azalea flowers out onto your porch before you began watering them. Watching you water the flowers out on your porch made Corazon’s heart skip a beat. How could he speak to a beautiful woman like you when he himself was a clumsy loser?
He felt as if you both were on different levels and him putting you on such a high pedestal was exactly what brought his himself down even more.
He’s only spoken to you once or twice since you’ve moved into the neighborhood, but he pressured himself to speak more regardless if he was so nervous to. Law always told him to make a good impression for himself around the neighborhood, but he’s never spoken to anyone else but you.
Maybe his body was attracted to you the moment he saw you. That pretty smile and adoring demeanor is exactly what brought him out of that hard shell of his. All he could really do is hope that he could possibly speak to you again or even more in the future.
Your moving frame suddenly pulled him from his negative thoughts, his eyes squinting as he noticed you holding a glass pan in your hands.
It looked as if…you were walking over to his home, his eyes trailing across as he followed your frame.
You continued down the sidewalk and turned down to his driveway, the sight of your frame growing closer and closer to his front porch.
She’s coming over!?
And with sweets too!?
Corazón immediately begins panicking out of nervousness and a sudden shriek left his lips as he slips a bit along the floor, his hands accidentally tearing the blinds before he falls down onto his back a bit hard.
“Owww…” He groans out to himself and reaches his hand down towards his back before rubbing in slight discomfort. A knock at his front door causes his eyes to shoot open and his body to freeze up in place.
“Hello? Anyone home? I have some brownies to share!”
Hearing your voice on the other side of the door immediately causes Corazón’s face to flush and he quickly shot up to his feet before rushing to the front door. He swallowed thickly before his hand grabbed at his doorknob, his other hand unlocking the top lock before he’d steadily began to crack the door open.
You watched as nervous eyes peeked through the crack of the door before trailing down your figure and back up to your face.
“Corazón? Is that you?” You asked all sweetly, your hand still holding that glass tray which was full of those brownies that you’d mentioned. Corazón huffs out shakily before steadily opening the door for you, his eyes looking down at your smaller frame while you smiled up to him.
“It is you! Good afternoon, Corazón! I hope you don’t mind but…I was baking some brownies and ended up baking too much for myself. So, I thought I’d give the rest to you…if you want them.”
Your sweet words and loving tone made Corazón’s heart pump with anxious, and his vision grew a bit blurred as if he were about to faint any second now. He shakes off the feeling and smiles before nodding to you, his hand taking the brownies from you while your face began to flush.
“I-I hope you enjoy them! If you’d like anymore again then, just let me know!” Your hand reaches up to your warm cheek and you begin to watch as Corazón opens the tray before he’d take a brownie from the it. He takes a big bite and chews softly, tasting all of the fudgy flavors that melted in his mouth. He himself out softly in delight, his taste buds adoring the taste of the sweet treat.
He nods profusely as he continues to chew and you looked down in nervousness as you listen to him finish up his brownie. Corazón reaches a hand down to your temple and pats it softly, your eyes widening before you looked up into his sweet little eyes. His lips were slightly covered in chocolate which causes you to let out a little snicker while he smiled nervously.
“I’m…I’m happy you love them! Please, come by my home any time and I’ll promise to have something ready. I…do enjoy cooking for my family and friends.”
Corazón freezes as he heard you mouth those words and he watches as you begin to step down off of his porch. You waved to him and walked all the way out of his yard, his eyes following your body as he watched you walk back over to your home.
Corazón stayed watching you as his heart pounded out of his chest, his body and growing breathless and his mind infatuated on the mesmerizing sight of you walking back to your home. As your small frame faded from his keen sight, he blinks a few times before looking back down to the glass tray in his large hands.
Corazón’s eyes softens and he smiles while continuing to look down at the brownies before steadily stepping back into his home, his hand closing the door behind himself. He twists the top lock before he sets himself down on the couch, his hand reaching for another brownie before he popped a bite into his mouth.
Your baking was filled with as much love as he had for you, if only you had knew how much he love and feelings shared...
He couldn’t help himself but to eat another brownie…
And another…
And…another…
Corazón ate mindlessly at the brownies, unable to stop and neither contain himself from the thought of eating your beloved cooking.
It was too good…and he couldn’t stop…
The pan was nearly empty, and he’d finally stopped at he looked down at the pan in slight shock.
He ate all of that…? Already…?
…
You stood at the stove and rocked your hips to the tempo as music blasted out of your radio, your voice humming along to the lyrics as you cooked at some breakfast all excitedly. You had already cooked more than enough for yourself, but of course you wanted to cook more just in case if a certain guest decided welcome himself over to knock on your door.
Your next-door neighbor happened to be the most friendliest one out of everyone in the neighborhood. The two of you had ended up taking a liking to each other after meeting for the first time which happened to be a few months ago after you moved into the neighborhood. It was as if…you both just clicked immediately, which wasn’t a bad thing at all.
It honestly made you more feel more welcomed and more comfortable.
The sound of your doorbell ringing causes you to crack a wide smile as you slide the last pancakes off of your skillet and onto a plate of other fresh pancakes. You quickly washed your hands and rushed out of your kitchen, the doorbell ringing once again as you quickly ran into your tidy living room. You swiftly opened your door and look up to see your neighbor, Corazón, staring back at you with those adorable doe eyes of his.
An ecstatic smile spread across his face as your face immediately lightens up at the sight of him, his hand lifting up before waving to you while you giggled all nervously. “Good morning, Corazón!” You greeted him, your hands brushing down at your apron while he hummed warmheartedly in response to the sound of your adorable voice.
‘Good morning!’ He signed, his greeting making you smile even more before you’d grab his large hand. “Please, come in! I’ve made enough breakfast for you to eat this time since you always come so early.” Your tone grew a bit higher as you grew flustered from Corazón tall stature, your body feeling as if you were expressing yourself a bit too much to Corazón.
You watched as Corazón ducked his head down before stepping inside of your home, his body so much taller than yours could ever be. You gulped as you stared up at him before turning away, a shaky exhale leaving your lips while Corazón tilted his head and quirked a brow.
“Come, my kitchen is this way…”
Corazón followed you throughout your home as you guided him into your clean kitchen, the fresh aroma of maple syrup and bacon filling his nose as his eyes met the all of the breakfast you cooked for him. His stomach growls at the sudden smell of fresh hot food and you giggled as held a porcelain plate up to him. He lifts his hands to sign to you once again and you wait for him as he did.
‘Isn’t this a bit too much? I wouldn’t want you cooking too much just for me…’ He signed, expressing both his gratitude but also his worries as he looks away all shyly. You placed the plate in his large hands before handing him a fork. “It’s fine, really. I know you have a hearty appetite to match.“ You replied, your hands reaching behind your back before you’d untie your apron and hung it up on your coat-hanger on your wall.
Corazón held his plate up to his face and watched as you grabbed yourself a plate from the dish dryer rack before proceeding to place one of everything on your plate. You grabbed a few extra pancakes and look up to Corazón while standing in place, watching as he grabbed a few breakfast items while you waited for him.
Once he grabs enough for himself, he walks over to the kitchen table and takes a seat. You followed behind and sat down beside him, your head bowing as you prayed over your breakfast before looking down at your plate. You look over to Corazón who was already eating, a hungry hum leaving him as he immediately began eating at the sausages on his plate.
Corazón huffs out in satisfaction, tasting every bit of love and energy that you put in the breakfast in each bite he took. Your eyes focused on his expressions, observing at what he’d like the most and what he’d like the least. He blinks before glancing over to you, his eyes causing you to quickly look away before your face began to flush.
You hoped he didn’t notice your bothersome staring…but he did. Though, he found it to be more flattering than anything else.
You look down at your plate and realized that you forgot both the maple syrup for your pancakes and a fork for eating. You chucked nervously and looked up at Corazón, who happened to be returning the interested stares back to you. You blushed before looking down at your plate again.
“You can always get seconds whenever you’d like.” You tell him, your frame slowly standing up from your chair before you’d went and grabbed the maple syrup off the kitchen counter. Corazón nodded and continued eating his food, his mind melting at the flavors of your cooking that coated his tongue all evenly yet delightfully.
You grabbed yourself a fork and grabbed a knives for the two of you before grabbing the bottle of maple syrup. You brought everything back to the table and walked away front the table once again. “Would you like some orange juice as well?” You asked him, your eyes watching as he turns to you and nods in response.
You opened your cupboard and grabbed two cups before placing them on the counter. You opened your fridge and dug through it for the orange juice, your hands pushing through sandwich meat and packaged foods before you finally found the carton.
You grabbed the carton out of the fridge and closed the fridge door, your hand grabbing the cups as you poured a bit of juice in them one by one. You grabbed the cups and walk back to the table before finally taking your seat, your eyes glancing down towards Corazón’s plate which happened to already be half eaten.
“Sorry about that…I’m not getting back up now.” You responded, your hand grabbing your fork before you began eating your scrambled eggs. Corozón gave you an adoring smile as he continued eating, his hand grabbing the maple syrup as he popped the top open.
…
‘Sorry if that I ate a bit much…’ He signed to you, his face shifting into a pout as he began to feel bad that you’ve cooked so much for him. You chuckled in response and waved him off.
“It’s no problem, Corazón. I always have enough for us both or even more.” You reassured him, a soft huff leaving him as you
You rubbed at Corazón’s shoulder to comfort him, continuously telling him that eating too much was perfectly fine especially for his size.
He smiled at your kindheartedness…and then it slowly grew silent and more comforting rather than awkward.
“…Did I cook everything well enough? I-If I didn’t, I can always try again and do better!” You stammered, your hand taking his perfectly clean plate and placing it on top of your own which was also clean. Corazón grabs your hands softly, causing you to stop and slowly look up at him with anxious eyes.
He stares blankly into your pretty eyes, his stare hiding his strong love behind it while you blinked a bit. He smiles and lowers his head, his lips peppering a loving smooch to your hands while a soft sigh leaving his lips as he did. Your face flared up in slight excitement and it flushed as you watched him lift his head, his lips curling into a sweet smile.
You watched as he softly wrapped his strong arms around your smaller frame, a surprised gasp leaving your lips as he hugged you delicately yet so tenderly. You shuddered within his arms in delight, your face burning a deep shade of scarlet while your sparkles began to appear within your eyes.
You softly wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him back while he begins to smile all erotically at the feeling of your touch. “I’m glad y-you liked it so much…” You sighed softly, your lips curling up into an adoring smile as you rubbed at his upper back. You both sat there for a moment embracing each other for a few minutes, the two of you enjoying each other’s warmth in the silence of your kitchen. A soft sight leaves your lips as you finally pulled away from his embrace, your eyes trailing up and looking into his.
Staring into his eyes for so long slowly causes your stomach to grow butterflies, making you turn your head away from him before pressing your hand against your cheek. You hesitated to speak and Corazón tilted his head in question as if he was wondering as if you had something to say.
“W-Would you like to go in the living room. I-I know my kitchen chairs and be a bit small and uncomfy for you…”
Corazón smiles and immediately nods before shooting up from his seat in excitement, his hand softly pulling your seat back from the table before he helps you up out of your chair. You blushed at his sweet gesture as you grabbed the two porcelain plates off of the dining table, your eyes watching as Corazón ducks his head while he walks through the doorway while he walks into the living room.
You walk over to your sink and softly slide the porcelain plates into the sink full of soapy dishwater before leaving them to soak. You walk through the doorway and see Corazón sitting on your couch, his eyes sharply staring down at his hands as he waited patiently for you to sit down beside him. You smiled and walk past him before setting yourself down beside his larger frame, his eyes looking down at your body seductively while you sat there playing at the hem of your blouse.
Before you could even utter another word past your lips, Corazón sneakily slide his large hand over your thigh. His sudden physical contact causes you freeze in place while your face begins to burn up. Your eyes slowly trailed up to his which happened to be full of love and a hint of lust while he moved in closer to your adorably flustered face. You could feel his hand sliding up higher and you felt your heart beginning to pound out of your chest while your body sat there…frozen.
“Ah…C-Corazón…” You gasp out a bit fearfully as your face begins to twist and brows began to furl, your body a bit bothered that Corazón was beginning to rush the process of his affection and yours. His hand softly grasps your chin and he smiles all sweetly before moving his face in closer to yours.
So pretty…How could he think to miss this only opportunity he had for himself to confess his feelings or at least make it known.
He pressed his lips against yours, causing a sudden moan to erupt from his throat while your eyes widened in sudden fear. “Mmh- M-Mhh!” Your body immediately goes into panic mode and you began to squirm uncomfortably while you felt Corazón trying to allow his tongue past your lips.
Your hand reached down towards his hand that rested at your thigh and you gripped it tightly before you’d hurriedly pull away from his lips. You exhaled shakily as you stare up into his eyes, his head tilting in question as if he was trying to figure out why you looked so…pale.
Didn’t you feel the same way?
“A-Ah…Cora…” You call out to him shakily, your hand holding his larger one before you lifted it off of your thigh. Corazón brows twisted into a look of slight sadness and he turns away from you, realizing that maybe you didn’t the same way and that he may have just made a rather terrible mistake.
You shook off the feeling of unease and hid it with a smile as you stared up at him, your arms slowly wrapping around his larger frame. “I-It’s okay…Let’s just…Let’s not rush things…alright?” You tell him, looking up into his eyes with slight concern while he stared down at you with a rather fearful expression on his face.
Corazón pulled away from you, his body scooting away from your smaller frame all together as he…genuinely felt sorry for kinda rushing things.
Though he didn’t know how to express them…At least not well enough.
‘Sorry…I’m so sorry-‘ He signed to you, his hand pressing over his mouth as he turned away from you.
“It’s okay, really! I know how much we express a passion for each other…but…may we go at it slowly…please…?”
Corazón stared back at you blankly as he listened to your words.
“I…I like you too Corazón…I really do. I just want to take my time with this though…at least go at a slow and soft pace, Y’know?” You confessed to him but putting your foot down gently in the process, hoping he would get the message and respect your boundaries and give you time.
Corazón’s eyes glistened as if he was seeing a diamond in the light, at least he finally knew that you shared the same feelings for him. He looks away as his hand begins to play at his sweater, his throat swallowing thickly before he’d finally decided to speak to you for the first time.
“Y…Yes. I…understand. Sorry…” He said in such a gentle and quiet voice, his voice suddenly catching you off guard as you heard it for the first time. Your eyes widened in shock as you lifted your head up to him, his hands covering his face as he looked down. His face burned a deep shade of red as he spilled out his voice to you.
“C-Cora…”
Your face slowly began to burn up from how attractive he sounded. Honestly…
His soft tone and the way he executed his sentence, it was just…so cute.
It was so unexpected…Hearing him speak for the first time…Then he spoke again, this time slightly more fluently than the last sentence.
“May…May I ask…Would…it be okay to…at least touch you…here and there…?”
His question caused you to stiffen and you hum out slightly, your eyes looking down as he asked you that question. You blinked before looking away, your hand pressing against your cheek as you sat there and thought to yourself…
He did ask…after touching you without your acknowledgment…but…It was still…a slightly uncomfortable situation.
Though, you didn’t even want to deny him after he went through the trouble to speak to you…
So you obliged and gave him permission.
You placed your hand against his, the skin at the top of his hand soft as you ran your palm along it.
“Y-Yeah, y-you can…” You accepted, your hand grabbing his larger one before you rubbed your thumb along the soft skin of his hand. He sighs out shakily and ran his fingers along your smaller palm before intertwining his fingers with yours all together, his large fingers overlapping over your smaller hand. He rests his head against yours, his eyes looking down at your smaller frame while his hand continues to grab at soft and plushness of your thigh.
‘So cute…and so soft…’ He thought to himself, watching as you squirmed at his touch while you soft whimpers left your throat.
You couldn’t help but to feel uncomfortable. You weren’t ready to move this quickly with Corazón, yet nothing came out when you wanted him to stop since you knew this is what he wanted.
You were hoping to take your time with him, to get to know him even more before you’d get to this point. Though…It couldn’t be helped…Not when you knew that Corazón preferred to show rather than to tell since he was mute.
While you were deep in your thoughts, Corazón peeled his hand away from your thigh and ultimately lets go of your hand. His sudden movements caused you to look up at him and he smiled before pulling away from you. You watched as he stood up from the couch, your body wanted to reach out yet feeling constricted to do so.
“Corazón?” You called out to him, your face giving him a slight pout as you grew a bit upset to see him go.
He lifts his hands and blinks softly, your eyes focusing as you realized that he was about to sign again.
‘I hate to leave so soon but…I’ve got errands to run…’
His hands signed his sentence before he lowered them down, his arms opening out to you as if he wanted a hug. You smiled softly and slowly stood up from your couch before falling into his embrace, your body relieved but your mind saddened to see him go so soon.
“I’ll…see you tomorrow. Mi Amor…”
Your body shudders at his voice as he called you those words, your hands clenching on to his shirt tightly as if you really…really didn’t want him to leave. You sighed out at your mind’s indecisiveness and felt as his arms slowly loosened up and pulled away from your frame.
“Be safe…” You say to him softly, his head nodding in response to you while you as he rubbed his hands along your back. You slowly pulled out of his embrace and he waves before walking out of the front door, his hand locking the bottom lock on the doorknob on his way out.
You stood there still for a moment before exhaling shakily, your body falling back onto the soft cushions of your couch before you slowly sunk deeper into them. The cushions nestled your body as you sat there in silence, your body and mind reflecting on what had just happened moments ago. Corazón obviously liked you…but disrespected your personal space.
Part of you wanted to give him another chance…while another part thought that you should just stop talking to him. You didn’t want to, you really didn’t…yet you knew what he did was wrong. You hum to yourself and turn over on your couch, your couch cushions cradling your body as you rested there in the returning peace and quiet of your own home.
A heavy sigh spilled from your lips as you slowly stood back up and walked back into your kitchen, your mind deciding to clean up to keep itself occupied from what had just occurred.
… (Bonus scene??)
Law sighed out heavily as he slowly inserted his house key into the keyhole of the doorknob, his hand twisting the knob before he’d let himself in and pulled the key out of the knob. The entirety of the house was dark and nothing but silence filled the empty house as Law slowly looked around in the slight darkness.
He flips the light switch on that connected to the living room, the bright light burning his eyes slightly as he lifted his arm in slight reflex which provided slight shade to him. Law throws his work bag onto the floor and slowly stumbling into the kitchen, his stomach growling as he groaned from the hunger whcih cased his stomach to eat away at itself.
“Pops? Ya home?” Law called out into the empty house, his voice echoing throughout the house for a few seconds after he called out for Corazón. A heavy sigh leaves his lips as he stood there alone in the kitchen, his stomach growling once again as it yearned for food to feed and fill it.
He fell deep in his thoughts for a moment, his pockets empty with nothing but crumpled paper and lint while his back barely had any change left in it. As he stood there in his thoughts, he pressed as hand to his chin as he slowly began remembering his adoptive father’s words about food.
“If you ever get hungry and have no money, just go to our neighbors house. She loves to cook and to told me that I’m free to come or invite anyone who’s hungry here at home…”
“Ms.________’s house yeah? It’d be worth a shot.” He said to himself, his feet turning him around before he walked back through the front door. He made sure to lock it behind himself before he’d shut the door and settled on walking to your own home next door.
Law was very skeptical. Not only because he didn’t know you well, but because he had never been over to your home before. Even if you seemed more friendly than ever, he didn’t know how you acted when it came to things like this. Though on a hungry stomach, he’d rather risk it than sit in his home starving while his stomach swallowed itself.
As he walked over into your yard, he slowly crept up along your front porch, his boots clacking against the wooden planks of the porch as he nervously walked up to your front door. He lifts his hand but immediately pulls back, hesitating as he began to have second thoughts.
Just wing it Law…
He lowered his knuckles repeatedly against the wood of your door, swallowing a gulp as he grew anxious for who was on the other side.
…
A knock to your door pulls you from your television and you grab the remote before turning down the TV. You stood up off of your couch and walked over to the door, your hand unlocking the bottom lock before you opened it. You look up and were immediately met with drained golden eyes staring back down at you. You fluttered your eyes a bit before tilting your head, your hand gripping the doorknob as you stared at the young man for a few seconds.
“H-Hello…May I help you?” You asked, wondering what exactly this stranger was doing on your front porch. The young man scratched at his temple before sighing out to himself. He didn’t necessarily want to bother you, but as someone who sought out something he needed, he had to ask.
“Sorry to bother you…We haven’t met before…I’m Corazón’s son, Trafalgar D. Water Law.” He introduced himself, your eyes lighting up as soon as he’d mention Corazón’s name. Your eyes widens and sparkles in delight and interest at Law’s response.
“Oh! I wasn’t aware of him having a son! I’m so happy to finally meet you then!” You exclaimed in excitement, your hand pulling the door open even wider to let him in.
“Come in! Come in! Make yourself comfortable!”
“A-Ah- I didn’t say exactly what I wanted yet-“
“It’s fine! You can explain it to me inside! It’s getting chilly out here anyways and we don’t want you getting sick.”
Law huffs out and reluctantly walks inside of your home, listening as you closed the door behind him before he’d steadily set himself down on your couch. You immediately begin walking over to the doorway of the kitchen, your eyes peeking over to Law who had his arms and legs crossed so politely.
“Can I get you anything? Tea? Cookies maybe?” You asked, already wanting to provide hospitality towards Law. Law’s eyes widens in surprise to your kind nature and he looks down before clearing his throat.
“Actually…That’s what I wanted to talk about…”
You stood there and patiently waited for him to continue speaking, your smile not moving an inch as you happily listened to him.
“My dad said that you liked cooking…and he said that I was welcomed to come over if I was ever hungry…Is…Is that true?” He asked you, his hand tilting his hat down even more as he tried his best to avert his eyes from you. You smiled wider and nodded in response to his question, your sweet demeanor slowly calming Law down to where he could get a little comfortable.
“Y-Yeah! That’s right! I told Corazón that he could come by any time for something to eat. Though since I’m just now finding out that he has a son, you’re absolutely welcomed into my home!”
You words makes a soft smile appear across Law’s face and he huffs out happily as he stared down at his spotted jeans. His growling stomach cuts your conversation short and it alerts both you and himself.
“S-Sorry-“
“Hungry aren’t you? What is it that you wanted by the way?”
“W-Well…We don’t have much at home so…I was wondering if you had anything I could eat anything you had…If it’s too much then I can just go back home-“
“Nonsense! Of course I have something for you to eat! I just cooked pasta not too long ago for dinner! It’s still fresh if you’d like some!” Your words had cut off Law and your excited tone startled him a bit. Hearing you speak so enthusiastically about feeding some stranger honestly made him feel safer around you. You were a genuine kind and gentle woman, someone who probably cared more about the people around herself rather than being selfish.
Law smiles and lifts his head to look up at you, his golden eyes filled with a sense of comfort as he stared into your eyes.
“That…That would be nice…Thank you ma’am…” He thanked you, his eyes watching as you motioned for him to come inside the kitchen.
He obeyed, and immediately got hit with the strong smell of garlic and butter.
“I hope you like Shrimp Alfredo! I made a bit too much so if you want to you can just take some home!”
You watched as Law takes a seat at the dining table, his eyes scanning your tidy kitchen before he’d look back over to your frame. Law watched as you grabbed one of your clean porcelain plates before you began placing a scoop of Shrimp Alfredo onto the plate. You followed up with two slices of garlic bread and turned over to him before bringing him his plate.
The sight of bread immediately made him froze and his face immediately scrunched up in distaste as he saw the two slices of bread on the plate.
You softly set the plate of pasta down onto the dinner table in front of him, the strong aroma of the food already making Law’s mouth water as he grew anticipated to try your food.
Though part of him wanted to push the plate away due to the sight of the bread.
You handed him his silverware before stepping away from the table, your hands grabbing your kettle off of the dish-drying rack before you ran it under the sink’s faucet.
Law shuddered and gulped before groaning out, knowing that he had to eat the bread to be polite. After all, he was the one who asked to eat some of your food. It would be wrong to not at least eat one of the two slices that rested on his plate.
Law lowered his head in defeat as he grabbed his fork, his stomach growling as he stared down at the delicious-looking plate in front of him.
“Thank…Thank you, Miss…” Law said, his eyes looking over to you as he watched you begin to make a fresh pot of tea. You giggled to yourself as you dig around in your cupboard for your tea leaves, your eyes occasionally glancing over to Law as you observed him saying a silent prayer before eating.
“Just call me ________! No need for formalities when your father knows me good and well.”
Law nodded before humming out in delight, his fork giving him a mouthful of pasta before he chewed profusely out of slight hunger. He already adored the flavors that melted in his mouth. While he wanted to avoid the bread, he decided to be respectful and eat a slice. While the bread made him want to spit it out, part of him couldn’t deny that it didn’t taste so bad.
Though that didn’t mean he didn’t want to spit it out.
God, it was super good. You definitely put your foot into the pasta if not your whole leg. It was a plus that he got good-tasting food even though he was looking for something to satiate his hunger.
…
“Thank you so much for the food ________, it was so so good…” Law thanked you once again, his stomach now full of delicious food while his hands held on to a little plastic bowl with a top on it. “Of course Law! I’m happy to feed you and your father any time!” You smiled, your face flushing as you fell rather ecstatic to feed someone full and happy once again.
Law waves and turned around but stops before turning back to you for a moment, it seemed that that’s not all he wanted to say. You tilted your head out to curiosity and watched as Law spoke for a final time.
“My dad…really likes you. I hope…I hope you two can get along well.”
“I know he may be a bit shy at times but…he’s a good guy once you get to know him. Affectionate too...”
You smiled to Law’s words, happy to hear that he thinks sweetly of his father and cares about him.
“I…I honestly hope you two can get together…He really…has a huge crush on you. He just refuses to confess.”
Law’s face suddenly flushed and he quickly turns away before walking down the steps from your porch, his tatted hands clutching on tightly to the bowl of food within his hands. You chuckled as you noticed his flushed face, your eyes focusing on his frame as you stayed to watch him get back home safely.
“Come back anytime! I’m always open to feed you two!” You exclaimed, your hand waving to a flustered Law as you watched him make it back over to his home beside yours.
You slowly stepped back into your home and close the door, your fingers twisting at the bottom lock before you twisted at the top as well. You hummed to yourself as you stood at your front door, buried deep within your thoughts as you found yourself wandering in that brain of yours.
Corazón really did like you…didn’t he?
If that wasn’t obvious enough, Law’s words was definitely enough to convince you that he wanted you as a whole and not just for something you were special at.
Then again, you were still taken back by his disrespectful behavior earlier. Yes, you still loved him. Though sometimes, even actions can push past your genuine love for someone. You sighed out loudly to yourself and shook your feelings away, a yawn now leaving your lips as you fell sleepy.
You slowly drug yourself down the hallway and into your bathroom, your body bending down as you began running hot water into the tub.
Maybe tomorrow, you can forget about it and try again….Yeah.
Maybe you can…
#puddingcupfics#lovebombing mini series#one piece#one piece smut#one piece fluff#op smut#op fluff#one piece x female reader#one piece corazon#op corazon#corazon smut#donquixote rosinante#corazon x reader
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this is the serial killer direction i WANTED that actors au nonsense to go. all that shit is happening too, but this was the part that sparked that whole idea.
this post is loooong
warning binghe is an obsessive yandere freak 🥰 bingyuan are freak4freak tho so like…. it's fine
dead dove do not eat; he is a serial killer and he's kinda horny about it lmao
luo binghe is maybe shen yuan’s biggest fan. when he was fourteen, he saw sy as the male lead in a classical romantic opera and it inspired him to act. he’s seen all of shen yuan’s opening nights and most of his closings, and he was coached by shen yuan’s older brother (until shen jiu dropped him as a client…there was something Not Right about that boy and sj didn’t want him close). he’s got a bit of a shrine to shen yuan in his basement, filled with photos and newspaper clippings a few dried flowers—whenever he was given flowers on stage, shen yuan always tossed one back to the audience. binghe has three. he has every part of shen yuan he can get his hands on, but it's not enough.
when he and sy start working on sqh's game, it's like heaven and hell all at once. sy is even more beautiful up close, even kinder and funnier and smarter than he shows himself to be in the few interviews he's deigned to give. every moment lbh spends with him is ecstasy. every moment he spends apart from him is suffering unlike any he's ever experienced. every day he yearns to touch, to taste, to take shen yuan. to have him and keep him and treasure him the way no one else ever could. no one loves him like luo binghe loves him.
this video game they're working on—it's got a lot of endings. most of the game is the player on their own, but there's one path that gets the shitty teacher character as a companion. and further down that path…well, there are a lot of romance options in a game as big as this.
things start out fine; lbh and sy have great chemistry, it turns out. even when sy has to play the cruel teacher, it's got this undercurrent of something that could easily open the door for the romance arc later on. lbh knew they'd have great chemistry. he and sy are destined to be together; of course they'd work well on screen. they hang out between takes, eat their meals together, carpool when they can. it's amazing.
it's not enough. binghe burns with the need to possess his beloved, and every day he's denied what he rightfully deserves, that fire burns hotter. one night, he goes out to try to find a hookup, just to let off some steam. it's supposed to be a hookup, it really is. he finds someone who looks similar enough to sy from the back that he can almost pretend it's him. but his voice is all wrong, and his attitude is too brazen, and it pisses binghe off so bad that he chokes the guy just so he'll shut up.
it's just—he doesn't stop choking him until he finishes a few minutes later, and by that point, the guy is…well. mbj helps lbh scrub the body and cover his tracks, and the corpse is found a few days later with no real leads.
it happens again a few weeks later. lbh can't have shen yuan, but so many pale imitations throw themselves at him. and every time, he takes them to bed and he swears he won't get angry this time. it's not sy; he knows it isn't sy. there's no need to be angry with them for pretending to be sy when they're not.
he gets angry anyway. he can't help it. he accepts these men's advances, he takes him to bed, he kills them and kills them and kills them. eventually, news comes to light. the date-night killer, a deeply uninspired name born only from the fact that their last known locations were all night clubs. they're all around the same height, all have short brown hair and glasses, all similar builds.
one night binghe asks shen yuan if he wants to go get drinks. he knows a nice quiet lounge, not too crowded since it's so exclusive. shen yuan declines. jokes that he'd better not—the date night killer likes guys with short brown hair; maybe they'd go after him next.
the next body that turns up is…different. still strangled to death, but it seems like the killer (a copycat most likely, the cops say) felt regret afterward. on the victim's back, over and over again, is carved "i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry…"
his a-yuan is afraid of him. luo binghe hates himself, and he hates all these people who put themselves in his path, who get themselves killed by daring to try to replace a-yuan in his heart. it's their fault a-yuan is afraid. binghe is the only one who can keep him safe. he knows he is.
binghe keeps it together until they're approaching the end of shen yuan's time in the studio. the arc is almost finished, and shen yuan mentions that in a month he'll be leaving for his next show's rehearsals. some opera, binghe's pretty sure; his hearing sort of cut out when his beloved said he was leaving. the news is a knife to the heart. his a-yuan can't leave. a-yuan belongs with him, no one can take him away. binghe needs a-yuan, and a-yuan needs binghe.
that night, luo binghe and shen yuan vanish without a trace. binghe has a house. it's under a false identity, and it's way out in the mountains. there, he can keep his a-yuan safe and comfortable. there, he can work to earn his a-yuan's affection. there, no one can take his a-yuan away.
he explains to a-yuan that they're home now, that they are together as they belong, that luo binghe will be the best husband to his precious a-yuan. and sy is so beautiful, so clever, of course he figures out that luo binghe is the date night killer. it's alright though, binghe promises, because he only killed those people for daring to imitate his beloved. now that he and his husband are finally together, binghe's got no reason to kill anyone else. they'll be happy together now that there's no one else in the way.
when shen yuan smiles, it's like the sun breaking through the clouds. he shifts, asks binghe to untie his arms. of course, binghe obeys. anything for his husband. he's not a fool; he knows shen yuan might try to fight and escape as a test of binghe's ability to protect him, and binghe's ready. but instead, shen yuan reaches out and stokes binghe's hair, his cheek. 'binghe went so far for me,' he murmurs, a hypnotic gleam in his eye that luo binghe has never seen. 'i hoped that night… i thought for sure you'd take me when i turned you down for drinks, but you tried so hard to be respectful, didn't you? well. maybe someday binghe will let me see him work? i quite liked the one you carved for me, but i really didn't need an apology. you can try again, can't you? will you make something pretty for me?'
the next corpse is rather beautifully arranged. the wounds carved into the body are artistic, elegant flowing lines and flowers carved into the skin. in the middle of its back, the double happiness character is drawn. shen yuan thinks it’s a lovely wedding present.
#dude idek#serial killer luo binghe#actor luo binghe#actor shen yuan#svsss au#svsss serial killer au#svsss actor au#yandere luo binghe#bingyuan#svsss#scum villain’s self saving system#scum villain au#luo binghe#shen yuan#bingqiu
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Why does the intro end with Jayce and not the sisters?
Pardon my shitty screenshots. I know I already made a post about the weird things in the intro, but there's even more that I didn't include in that post, and most of it is weird as HELL stuff with Jayce. This whole intro sequence has been weird as hell and I love it.
(I'll put it here since I'm not going to mention it later, but Ekko's first scene in the intro has his shadow as a clock ticking counterclockwise and I love it, but I won't talk about it again since we all pretty much know what that means.)
Last season's intro ended with our two lead women at each other's throats. That's no surprise. The whole show is about them. This one, though, ends with Jayce, a supporting member of the main cast. Matter of fact, he shows up a lot in this intro.
In my other post, I mentioned how his scene in the intro is eerily reminiscent of the moment he met Mel (other than the Council trial) when she shined a flashlight in his and Viktor's eyes in the hallway.
Could this be an indicator that he is once again meeting someone new who will change his life forever? Or could it be a reintroduction to someone he already knows? It could easily be Mel again, maybe after she's discovered and learned to control her magic? It seems like she wasn't aware of her powers until now. Considering how much the animators love to compare Mel with Viktor, it could just as easily be Viktor after he's gone full Machine Herald. They've already met again in the commune, but maybe they'll meet again when Viktor is more mechanical and Jayce is more... how do I put it politely... sane.
The light in front of Jayce's hand appears twice more, but something tells me it's a different light. Has the light evolved or is it a different light altogether?
This comes right after Mel on the lounge chair looking at the black rose and right before Viktor putting on the mask (we'll get to that). It is SO much brighter than before, less like a flashlight and more like a spotlight. Jayce's arm is more outstretched, too. It's less reminiscent of the hallway and more reminiscent of the moment he stepped onstage for the Progress Day speech. Bright, burning spotlights that he flinched at. Arm outstretched not only to block the light, but to wave at an audience.
The light and pose when he ends the intro also has these qualities.
I know it's a reach, but nothing is ever fucking reaching with this goddamned show.
So what does this mean?? Is it symbolic of the presence of magic in his life? Once a light in the dark, the path to success -- now burning, all-consuming? Is this another hubris metaphor??? I'm so tired of hubris metaphors. Let Man become God!
Seriously, what do you guys make of this? Because I have no clue. I have negative clues. Everything I see only opens new questions.
Okay, on to the Jayvik amalgam. :D
Who. The fuck. Is this.
Two pics since the camera rotates a bit and idk if the slightly different angle helps at all.
If you look at it from far away, the eyebrow ridge and nose resemble Jayce. If you peer closer, the eyebrow ridge looks more like Viktor's, but the nose still seems like Jayce. This person also looks to be at a healthy weight and has thick thighs, also qualities that Viktor unfortunately does possess. I want to say the hand also looks like Jayce's, but it's hard to tell. The lighting also makes it hard to determine their skin color. All in all, everything about this scene would suggest that the figure is Viktor except for the figure itself.
My gut instinct had me thinking it was Jayce the very first time I saw this intro, but then Viktor showed up with his blanket and mask later in the song and has been in said blanket for most of the show. The lack of purple limbs doesn't mean anything since the sisters also lost their tattoos, Mel lost her gold, and Ekko lost his face paint too.
And then we have this shot. Whose hand is that? NOT FUCKING VIKTOR'S.
That's Jayce's hand putting Viktor's mask on him. The hand looks like it fits naturally on Viktor's arm.
This could mean that Viktor will be wearing his mask because of Jayce. Partly in a "you see me as a villain, so a villain I will be" kind of way, but maybe also in a self-fulfilling time loops sort of way.
It's obvious that we're not supposed to be able to tell Viktor and Jayce apart in this intro. I even saw someone suggest that the animators made a whole new 3D model that was a mix of them both to be able to get the effect across. They might have also made one for Viktor with Jayce's hand.
This is basically saying that Jayce and Viktor are so deeply intertwined that they can't even be told apart. That's really ironic considering how different and divided they are right now. Could this imply that they'll end up back on the same side by the end?
#jayce this season makes me crazy#he's almost taking up more brain space than viktor at this point and I can't be having that#and he hasn't even had much screen time#what do you mean this post is Jayvik propaganda#it's clear as day that they cannot exist without each other#no that doesn't sound weird at all#arcane intro#arcane theory#arcane speculation#arcane season 2#arcane#jayce talis#viktor arcane#viktor#jayvik#analysis#citrus post
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The (chaos) Coven
This is me, a tarantula on the "Witches Road"
At first I wanna say I did not understand why the hell Rio played along with Agatha... It was soooo exhausting omg.
But nvm, I spend way too much time with these witches so here is my opinion on each one of them:
Jennifer
Jennifer? Oh, she’s something else. The ‘all-business, no-nonsense’ vibe is impressive, I’ll give her that.
She’s sharp, like she’s always three steps ahead of everyone, and her wardrobe? Immaculate. I’m convinced she could outdress the apocalypse. She’s got this energy that either makes you want to follow her into battle or stay ten feet away at all times.
I don’t dislike her, but let’s just say she’s not the first person I’d share my cookies with.
Lilia
When I first met Lilia, I thought: Finally, a grandma! She probably bakes nonstop and has a secret stash of cookies somewhere. Wrong. So wrong.
She’s feisty, unpredictable, and somehow always ten steps ahead. Honestly, it’s unsettling.
That said, I’ve gotta admit, her vibe is kind of iconic. The hair? A masterpiece. The whole ‘hippie meets mystical grandma meets chaotic freak’ aesthetic? Approved.
But seriously, Lilia, if you do have cookies, stop holding out on me. Sharing is caring.
Alice
Alice... Where do I start? She’s got this whole ‘the world is against me’ thing going on. Honestly, it’s a little exhausting.
Like, girl, maybe your mom wrote that ballad for a reason other than just to mess with you. Ever think of that? No? Didn’t think so.
But underneath all the eye rolls and melodrama, there’s something real there. She just hasn’t figured herself out yet. She’s a work in progress, I guess.
Cookies for her? Maybe once she chills out. Maybe.
Billy/ Teen/ Wiccan (whatever)
Ah, the prodigy with an attitude. Kid’s got power, no doubt about it, but he’s also got that ‘I know better than everyone else’ vibe. Which, honestly, is kind of funny coming from someone who can barely handle his own magic.
But I’ll give him this—he’s determined. He’s like a little storm in the making, and you can’t help but want to see where it’ll go.
Would I share my cookies with him? Maybe, if he asks nicely.
Agatha... (I call her "the ex-wife I didn’t sign up for")
Agatha? Don’t even get me started. She’s powerful, no doubt, but it’s like she’s always trying to out-drama everyone in the room. She’s got this weird mix of arrogance and insecurity, and honestly, it’s exhausting.
Like, she’ll act like she’s got everything under control, but then, boom, she's throwing a tantrum because Rio didn’t call her back.
But hey, gotta admit, she’s got style—witchy, eccentric, a little unhinged. Honestly though, I'm just here for the chaos.
On the other hand she broke my mistresses heart more than once so I said it before and I say it again: If you're Agatha Harkness - LEAVE.
No cookies for her.
That's it. That's the post!
-🕷💚
#rio vidal x reader#agatha harkness x rio vidal#agatha harkness x reader#agatha all along#rio vidal#agatha harkness#victoria the spider#rio vidals pet#rio vidal tarantula#creative blog#not impersonating anybody i just wanna have some fun with this character so don't say anything and just enjoy babes.
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okok so i just found your blog and lemme tell you ive been eating it UPPP
how would you feel abt josh or maybe chris? (rlly any of the men tbh) with a s/o who has nipple piercings?
i feel like josh would be sooo into it when he found out/when you first got them done. he wouldve def been so so so supportive if you wanted to get them done during the relationship. hed love the sensitivity after theyve finally healed, lowkey would sit there admiring them for a hot while just looking and fiddling with them(i headcannon josh as a tits/thighs man gonna be honest)
more smutty imagine, his s/o is bouncing on his lap, and your tits are just so perfect, and he just cant resist himself anymore, hes gotta know how they feel on his tongue. he takes one of your nipples in his mouth and just rolls his tongue over the piercing, mapping out the feel with his tongue carefully. hed be so content i fear.
chris would be shy about it, like, "oh wow, those mustve hurt pretty bad, huh?", not drawing too much attention to it at first, but eventually, maybe youre sat on his lap, grinding your hips against his, youre both sensitive and heated, panting, and chris has been admiring the way the balls of the peircing really perk up your nipple, and after a particularly rough stroke of your hips against his clothed hard-on, his large hands grip your hips or ass, digging into the flesh and he leans down, taking your nipple between his lips in an attempt to cover his loud whimper. after all, with you riding his hips, youre just elevated enough where your tits are right there, at a conveniently perfect level to his mouth.
someone save me my goddd 🙀
anon thank you for leaving this wonderful little gift in my inbox holy shit
warning 4 this one! afab reader potentially implied!??
josh:
i totally agree that josh is a tits man, but honestly - he just loves any curves… ass? tits? thighs?? and they’re not on his face rn?? 🤨
he’d totally love nipple piercings… man’s a FREAAK!! first time he sees them he’s like 🧿🧿.. absolutely baffled!??! during intimacy he’d love them too, teasing them with his lips or fingers just to hear you whine and shudder like hello!?!😵💫
also to elaborate on your thought… he’d definitely give them some special attention if you’re riding him, i mean… they’re LITERALLY right there.. and he’s a strong man, but not that strong… it would definitely satisfy that little part of his brain that wants to analyze and commit all of your little reactions to memory… running his thumbs over them, maybe a lil pinch, kisses, sucking on them, y’know.. the works. he wants to know what makes you moan for him the most!!
as for chris… oh boy..
he’s a lot more flustered by them, AND more hesitant to mess with them.. his eyes getting all wide when he sees them for the first time..like? BAFFLED.. “oh, wow… uh.. man, did those hurt?” and like.. obviously yeah, so he’s a little scared to fuck with them? BUT once he knows they’re healed and in fact don’t hurt anymore… oh lord!!!
he loves having you in his lap CANON! his face getting all flushed while you grind down on him, him touching ur piercings just to hopefully mess you up like you’re doing to him… he’s sensitive!! he doesn’t wanna cum first :( and ur tits look so pretty with the bars through them, making ur nipples look extra perked up, ?!yknow!?
chris def has a secret oral fixation.. i have no reason or explanation… my brain is saying its true so i’m sharing it with the masses!!! he needs to he doing something with his mouth, especially when he’s close 😵💫 so he’d love to wrap his lips around your nipples just to hear you whine for him like… UGHH!!
i hope i fulfilled your expectations anon!! praying this is good or else….. (idk nothing will happen i’m just dramatic)
another note, i typed this shit like 3 days ago and it went to DRAFTS. INSTEAD OF POSTING.
thx bbg @ghouleaterr 4 giving me motivation once again…
#🍒#anon ask#josh washington#chris hartley#until dawn#until dawn smut#until dawn hcs#multifandom writer#smut hcs#chris hartley smut#chris until dawn#chris until dawn smut#josh until dawn smut#josh washington smut#josh until dawn
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