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chrollohearttags · 5 months

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when the smoke clears • portgas d. ace

vice fire chief!ace helps comfort his subordinate after a rough call.

content + themes: fluff, comfort, ace being a sweetheart (and an asshole 😭), black fem reader, soft smut, oral kissing and hand holding, him + reader crying during 🥹, angst, mentions of arson + child death, so if that triggers anyone I’m sorry.

word count: 6.0K

📝: are y’all sick of me and my cheesy fire pun titles yet? 😁 sorry, I just really love this series and their dynamic. This was also longer than expected but I got carried away! 🫶🏾

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many things came with the responsibility of being a firefighter. It wasn’t an easy occupation by any stretch of the imagination. You saw and did things that the average person had the pleasure of not encountering..entire homes, entire families, generations and years worth of memories wiped out in an instant..you oftentimes risked your life with minimal reward whilst also being tasked with the heavy burden of saving others. But when you failed to do so, the weight of the world felt as if it were teeming on your shoulders and it was far too heavy to lift off on your own. Sure, there was therapy..perhaps even certain mechanisms to help you cope but there are some things you don’t forget. And all of that rang true for the newest recruit at Company Eight, (y/n) (l/n), who had just experienced your very first call that resulted in tragedy rather than a rescue. And needless…it had taken its toll…

“Oh!..Hi, Ace..so nice to see you.”

“Good evening, Miss Robin. How are we doing today?”

it was a chilly Wednesday evening..the impending onslaught of winter just around the corner for the big city. Snow had begun to fall, leaves wilting and turning to that beautiful rustic color that signified the turn of the season. It was such a delightful sight..but for you? The world seemed to be standing still, doused in gray and your heart may as well have turned black. Try as you might to hide it but the pain was still too sudden and fresh to just disappear so soon. Currently, you were home..the very spacious, four bedroom, high rise condo overlooking the city that you shared with your two best friends and roommates, Robin and Nami. Nami, who worked for The National Weather Center as a climatologist spent long hours helping to predict forecasts and track the weather patterns so that they can properly inform citizens of any impending storms. It was a rather unique and lucrative job..ideal for her! As for Robin, she was a professor at the local university, teaching archaeological studies and conducting research. She was a scholar; a woman of many academic achievements and just as your boss had arrived at the front doorstep of you guys home, she was preparing to head out for an overnight excavation, being led by other researchers in the field who needed the expertise and knowledge of someone like her. They were extraordinary, talented women who you were happy to call not only friends but sisters. Even so, with all of their intelligence, there was a topic that seemed too difficult to tackle, even for them…

handling grief. Grief that had accrued from your last call and perhaps the hardest one that the firehouse had seen in a while. It was weighing heavy on the hearts of everyone, even the more seasoned veterans but that didn’t make things any easier.

they had watched you traipse about the condo, in a stupor; spending your days off that would’ve been filled with productivity to do all of the things you couldn’t in your harrowing twenty four hour shifts to lie in bed, cry and sleep. It was awful and they couldn’t imagine what it was you were feeling at the moment. So they decided to call in someone with special expertise to help handle the situation. They had both met Ace prior through mutual friends at a gathering and they couldn’t understand why you held such resentment for such a kind, caring gentleman who seemed to really have a soft spot for you. Sure he gave you a hard time but only because your stubborn ass deserved it. If he didn’t put you in your place, who would?

“I’m doing wonderful. Please, come in.” So whilst the two of them were gone, they’d entrust your fate in the hands of the one person you probably preferred not to see but needed to. For the sake of your sanity and your job! With those deep set eyes, dark hair and signature grin, the vice fire chief made his way over the threshold, exchanging typical pleasantries with your roommate before she offered him warm coffee to help deter the cold and he’d happily accept. It was whilst they were at the table, drinking their beverage did the elephant in the room become addressed.

“So..how is she?”

“If you want my honest opinion? Not so great. We had to drag her out of bed for breakfast and a shower. I’ve never seen her like this before.” She’d also go on to explain how you’d woken up out of your sleep, screaming and reaching out to someone. Saying ‘take my hand’..only to slam back down to the mattress in a fit of tears. You’d laugh one moment, be angry the next and then a full sobbing mess afterwards..the realization was setting in for Robin, who was hurting for you. They were helpless and struggled to understand how it was you were feeling, less known to overcome it. Ace, however, had become accustomed to it and had a far better grasp on how to deal with this. Nodding his head, he’d take another sip before speaking.

“I see…y’know, it’s hard to imagine the girl who takes any opportunity she can to bite my head off actually crying. Just doesn’t seem like her..” but Robin could attest. What most mistook for anger or feistiness with you, your girls knew you were emotional at your core. You carried things much more intensely than everyone else. You felt it deeper than anyone else did and because of that, when instances like this happen, you didn’t exactly handle it well.

“She’s resilient..stronger than anyone I know but she’s also a lot more sensitive. (Y/N) has always had a knack for empathizing with others. It’s what I love about her..that kind heart. She always wants to help those around her..maybe that’s why she was adamant on becoming a firefighter. It’s strange..I wanted to stop her when she told us the news. To grab her and ask if she had gone crazy but…my fear didn’t stem from her rushing into burning buildings or an accident..it was something like this. Because she doesn’t just internalize their feelings..she internalizes their suffering, their pain. She tortures herself into believing that if she can’t help someone then she’s failed as a person. That tough exterior is nothing more than a facade, a mask to keep everyone from seeing just how fragile she is.”

it was then that Ace acquired a better understanding of not only your current mental state but you as a person as well. He knew now that the woman who hid behind these stoic faces and temperamental attitudes was actually a sad child who had never healed from past trauma. However, he couldn’t, in good faith..allow you to come back on shift until you were feeling better and if that never happened, then he’d be forced to resort to more permanent measures. Once the two finished up their coffee, Robin would gather her things and prepare to leave. “I'm going to go tell her goodnight and I’ll let her know you’re here..” With that, the tall, dark haired woman headed towards your bedroom. Her backpack, chocked full of exploration equipment and other necessities tossed over her shoulder along with a thermos in hand. She’d leave a faint knock for which you’d allow her in and that’s when she’d be met with the sight of you lying in bed, curled up in the blankets and cradling a stuffed animal. It was the only bit of comfort you’d had.

“Hey, sweet girl. How are we feeling?” Her deep and soothing tone brought you immediate peace as she sat at the edge of your bed, stroking along the side of your face. That nurturing touch was the only semblance of comfort you had felt in these past few days. Even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to admit the truth..the truth that would reveal the fact that you weren’t doing well in the slightest. Curled into a fetal-like position, (y/n) bundled the blanket up to your face. Almost too ashamed and frightened to face her. Abashed by the fact you were behaving this way. Although it couldn’t be helped..not when every time you shut your eyes, you’d relive the horrors of that night. Toiling with it over and over, thinking of what you could’ve done differently. It seemed as if no matter what scenario you went through in your head, it seemed as if the result would be the same. There was nothing that you or anyone else could do..even so, it didn’t stop you from shouldering the blame. However, you wouldn’t be sulking for long if he had anything to do with it. As Robin continued to console you, barely garnering a whisper from you, you’d proceed to tell her that you were okay. Which she knew was a lie but it was better than mere tears..

“C’mon, rookie. Are you really going to stay here sulking? It’s sad..”

Suddenly, your pity fest was soon interrupted by the very familiar and irritating voice of the last person you were hoping to see. Not only would he undoubtedly make you feel worse but you most certainly didn’t want him seeing you in such a state. Although he never voiced it, you had the sneaking suspicion that he thought little of you. That perhaps he bet on the fact that you’d one day succumb to the harsh conditions of this job and wouldn’t be able to handle it. Maybe you were proving him right. You’d feel the bed shift as Robin stood to her feet; only bending down to place a gentle kiss on your temple, telling you that she loved you and would see you later once she returned from her expedition. She’d also take Ace’s appearance as her cue to leave. She felt safe leaving you in his care. Today and any other day..

“..go away, Ace. I’m not in the mood..”

cradling the blanket into your fist, you’d slowly turn back over and avoid facing him. The last thing you wanted to be vexed with was his nonsense. But he wasn’t here to pick a fight or even argue with you. He was used to your anger, used to that foul mouth and bad attitude. What he couldn’t stomach the thought of was you being upset. Kneeling near the side of the bed, he’d press a hand to your covered hip and try to get a peak at your face. Hoping that he’d be able to soften you up. Although it’d be no easy task..that much he was aware of. Still, it wouldn’t stop him from trying his best to make you feel better.

“Yeah..I figured you’d say that.” releasing a heavy sigh, your superior would then rise back to his original posture, before doing something quite unexpected. Suddenly, you’d feel the weight of the bed shift drastically before you were greeted with the sight of him lying next to you! That same obnoxious smirk and deep tone that normally made your skin crawl. Without so much as a warning, he’d peel those covers back from you and reveal your gaze as well. “What are you?--” “There she is..that pretty face. Y’know, crying really doesn’t suit you. Neither does acting like a big ass baby.” As per usual, you wouldn’t get away unscathed without him taking jabs. But this was exactly what you needed. Someone to bring you back to reality! If anyone understood the gravity of the situation you were grappling with and how difficult it was, Ace was the one. He’d seen many tragedies since his time as a firefighter. From car accidents, crime scenes and horrible fires that had destroyed families in a matter of minutes. He had a sort of immunity to it and didn’t let many things phase him for his own mental state. That silly facade was his own coping mechanism. Otherwise, he’d be knee deep in a bottle again and that wasn’t a place he wanted to go back to. But even he could empathize with you on this. It was a brutal scene..one of the worst any of you had ever encountered..it was difficult but you were definitely taking it harder than anyone else.

“And what the hell would you know? Huh? Everything is always a joke to you. They died right in front of me..right in front of me, Ace and I couldn’t do shit!..Do you have any idea what that feels like?!” Just then, your voice would ascend into a higher pitch and you’d become hysterical. You’d become livid..just one of the many emotions you were experiencing. How dare he speak to you as if you were some petulant child throwing a fit? This wasn’t some small mistake you all could laugh off..a mere teaching moment. A family was broken apart at the seams, a mother burying their kids and a cowardly father who took his own life to avoid the consequences. And the only thing that you could do was stand there and watch the flames engulf them. See two innocent babies become swallowed after the support beams of their home fell in front of them. You’d try to run in and save them but were promptly held back by your fellow firefighters. You lacked the experience to tackle such a feat and the only thing your presence would’ve caused was another unfortunate casualty. You even sustained some injuries that hadn’t even hit you until after your adrenaline wore off. But none of that mattered..nothing compared to the pain of seeing two little kids yelling ‘help me’..only two feet away and there was nothing you could do to help them. Your other two teammates rushed in, barely escaping with their lives to assist them instead but by that time, smoke inhalation was what ultimately caused their demise.

“Who does that to their own kids?! What type of fucking monster would burn them up because he was mad at their mom?! Why couldn’t I help them, Ace? Why didn’t you let me?! Do you really hate me that fucking bad!—“

By this point, you were more than lively. A bit more than he anticipated and before he knew it, you were screaming, sobbing and slamming your fists into his chest. He expected this..hell, he blamed himself. As soon as he got the call, he should’ve told you to stay behind. But shielding you only would’ve felt like a slap in the face and he was doing you no favors by sugarcoating the severity of this job.

“Because I didn’t want to lose you too!” suddenly, you’d feel your wrists clutched in his grasp and him holding you close. But you’d also notice the welling tears brimming in his eyes. A true first! This was the very man you’d always catch with that stupid smug grin on his face and laughing. Yet here he was..mirroring your sentiment. He’d then try to feign them off and look away over his own shoulder. Trying not to let you see him in that state. “Damnit, rookie!..you think I did that to spite you? All of this, the whole situation fucking sucks and if there were anything I could do differently, I would. I failed, okay? As your superior and a firefighter..and I have to live with that. I have to face the consequences of my decisions but I couldn’t take it if something would’ve happened to you. I–...” it was only a matter of time before he crumbled and it was seconds later that you’d watch the once strong and upbeat chief fall apart. “I’m sorry, (y/n)..” but alas, his tears and apology didn’t sway your resolve. You were angry with him! Angry that he was yet again protecting you. Now face to face, the two of you sat there..only inches apart. His hand cradling your own and you refusing to let go. This was by far the most vulnerable that you had ever seen him and in a way, it almost made you feel sorry for him but you had to let him know exactly how you felt. Leaning forward, you’d move as if you were trying to kiss him but instead, went for a slap. Bringing him out of his self sulking trance.

“What the hell?!--” “If you’re really sorry, then stop treating me like a goddamned baby! Ace, this job means everything to me. I didn’t become a firefighter to sit on the sidelines and watch people die. And it seems like as of late, all you’ve done is try to coddle and try to shield me from it. I don’t get it..do you really think I’m that useless? How the hell do you think I feel? Everybody thinks I’m incompetent because of you. No matter what I say, I can never look that mom in the eyes and tell her how sorry I am. That I did the best I could because I didn’t. You took that from me, Ace..why do you insist on smothering me?!” and you wouldn’t believe him even if he told you the reason. It’d probably only make you even more irritable. But hell, now was as good of time as any to confess what was on his heart.

“..any man would want to protect the woman he loves, wouldn’t he?” You were still amid your rambling when the words seeped from his mouth. Just as flatly as any other phrase he had uttered before. Almost as if he were afraid to admit it but it was true..every bit of it. He had fallen for you over this past year or so and there was no way of denying it. All of his domineering overbearance was due to this blossoming crush..this deep seeded passion that had sprouted into pure adoration. “Fuck’s sake..swear you drive me crazy, rookie. Can’t believe I’m even telling you this..” That’s when he’d burst into laughter, now swiping the tears away from his puffy, dark eyes. There it was. That’s why he was acting this way..he didn’t want to tell you in fear of pushing you away or even be accused of showing favoritism just because you were a woman. He never once doubted or even questioned your skills. But his feelings? They had grown far stronger than he was ready to accept. He knew you could handle it but in that moment, his natural instinct was to grab you. Even at the expense of your own mental health and pride. Even if it meant you’d hate him for it. Hold you close and never let go..because he didn’t want his last memory of you to be walking to your death. Honestly, he wasn’t being entirely truthful because he knew it’d only make you feel worse but there was nothing that any of you could do. Even the most trained and skilled first responder would not have been able to change the outcome of this tragedy. You all went in and risked your lives for these children but it was to no avail. One step closer and it would’ve been a suicide mission.

“I know it’s selfish and honestly, you have every right to resent me for it but I can’t help myself. You’re a hell of a firefighter, I’ve said that a million times but you’re also the girl I can’t stop thinking about. The one I just want to keep safe and protect from it all but that’s not fair. I can’t ask you to hold back because of my sore feelings. You did everything right, rookie. This isn’t your burden to shoulder so stop sitting around here crying, worrying your friends. None of this is your fault, okay? Nobody blames you, not even that mother. She even came by the fire house to thank you for how quickly you rushed in to help her kids. I just..I can’t take knowing that you feel like this because of my fucking stupidity–”

Quite frankly, you’d heard enough of these pitiful excuses and half assed attempts at trying to do damage control. But most importantly, you couldn’t take anymore of this..no more of his heartfelt confession because then you’d be forced to confront your own emotions. The deep seeded truth that you loved him as well. After a year of intense, passionate hookups and going through arguably some of the worst scenarios together, you couldn’t help but to become close. Even if it went without the obvious mention. Amid his long winded rant, you’d gently cup his cheek into your palm before kissing his forehead and eventually, his lips.

“You’re right about one thing, you are very fucking stupid..”

Immediately sending the flustered chief into a pout. But it was obvious that he meant every word because his cheeks flushed red as he felt your touch. “You don’t mince words, do you?” “No, but I am thankful for you..even if you get on my fucking nerves.” To which he could only chuckle and place his head down. He wasn’t expecting some picture perfect, Hallmark moment with you. That was for certain but you were still just as crass as ever! Reaching over, you’d take his hand and gently caress his knuckles with your thumb pad. “Listen, Ace..I feel the same way you do. As bad as I didn’t want to admit it. Hell, I’d tell myself I was just being delusional but the truth is, you do make me happy..” he couldn’t ask for much more than that, honestly! He was expecting you to be utterly repulsed by his words and here you were saying exactly what he was hoping for. On the contrary though, there was still a tiny bit that he was missing.

“Still..love isn’t supposed to be suffocating or overbearing. I can’t ever grow or learn if you don’t let me. I don’t want to just be ‘the girl you love’, I wanna be your equal…I want you to acknowledge me as a capable firefighter. I don’t want to be coddled and held back. I don’t ever want to feel what I have been for these past few days ever again. I don’t think I can take it..” finally, you’d lean in and cup his cheek; flustered a bright red by your heartfelt words. “I learned from the best, didn’t I? So I think I deserve to prove it.” What more could he possibly say? You were so precious to not only him but everyone at Company Eight. You all were family and losses were never easy, especially when they were so young but you all should have been proud. Proud that they realized your weakness and held you back for your own safety. Proud that you all had done everything you could to rescue those children, even if the result wasn’t what you all hoped and proud that you were still standing here..as a vice chief and fellow friend, he was so grateful for each of you and as much as he wanted to internalize that burden as well, he did none of you any favors by pouting or feeling sorry for himself. The only thing any of you could do now was move forward and keep getting better. Keep training and learn from your mistakes. And if he wanted his team to continue to grow, he couldn’t allow his own fears and bias to cloud his judgment. Otherwise those feelings would swallow him whole and the only thing he’d do is push you away.

“You really are something else, rookie…I swear you make me want to be better than I was the day before..it’s crazy. But I promise I’ll become a chief worthy of your respect. I won’t ever hold you back ever again.”

For now though, he just wanted to be one with you. Be in this moment with you and not let go. To immerse himself in your skin, to touch you and know that he still had you by his side. “I love you, Ace..” tenderly reassuring him as the gap of distance slowly closed between the two of you. A gentle hand cradling his face and his tugging at your hip. There was no greater feeling in the world than this.

“Say that again, baby..tell me one more time.” By now, he had laid you back flat to the mattress and his lips honed in on your neck, suckling and slowly kissing your flesh. Around your earlobe and even your collarbone. You’d utter the words once more and like a wave of fresh water, you’d allow him to drown you in his affection. Giving you the comfort and warmth you so desperately needed. The kind you had been craving. The kind that only he could give you!

“Can you tell me it’s mine?..please?..”

“You sure are demanding today..”

in only a matter of moments, you’d find yourselves entangled in a passionate bliss. His arms wrapped around you and your hands scaled the curvature of his back. This was nice..the only thought that could cross your mind. A simple one but true nonetheless. This familiarity..the comfort of knowing, feeling something that you were used to was nice. A feeling you no longer wanted to fight..you wanted to give in, submit and let the overwhelming emotions swaddle you. Safety, affection, genuine care..they all felt so foreign until you met him. Despite the fighting, anger and resentment. They were the only false feelings you harbored. No matter how far you tried to push him away, he’d only find himself falling deeper.

“Yeah, but at least you’re smiling now so it's fine..” chuckling gently against your lips, causing a faint vibration as he brushed the side of your face. Right now, nothing else mattered. He wasn’t leaving this room until your mind was out of that dark, dreary place. And he knew just how to do the trick. Soon, you’d feel his tongue snake from his mouth and make a beeline from the starting point of your jugular, not letting up until he reached your belly button; pausing only briefly to rid you of the t-shirt that you had been sporting. Immediately sensing the tension in your body resolving by the second. Ace honed in on your very sensitive and erect nipples that seemed to draw forth and elicit the most lively reaction from you. Feeling you tremble, hearing those light huffs…it was all he needed. He'd then lean up to check on his beloved. Adorning your temple with a soft kiss..

“..can I make you feel better?”

and without hesitation..frazzled and with labored breathing, you’d nod your head and whimper. “Y-yes, please..”

from there, he knew exactly what needed to be done. From that point forward, he was at your mercy..in complete and total submission to bring you pleasure. To ensure that you were shrouded in nothing more than bliss. No pain, no tears..he missed that beautiful smile more than anything so he wouldn’t stop until it appeared again. Seconds later, you’d find your leg draped across his shoulder as he made haste in shuffling around to position himself flat on his stomach. It was then that your thighs would become parted and he’d expose your aroused core. Already dampened with warm slick from his previous teasing, he’d run a single finger down the center of your slit..brushing the pad over the surface of your swollen bud. With the liner of your panties still entangled around his digits, he’d keep the shield pulled back as he delved in to enjoy the scent and flavor of your essence. It was divine..just as amazing as always. He didn’t say a word..merely began to muffle his brims around your puffy lips. At this point, pure actions were the only atonement for his behavior. His failure as not only a leader but a lover as well. He hadn’t attended to your needs in any capacity and now, he was going to make it right.

“Ace…”

the words barely escaping above a decibel but he’d merely remain steadfast in his motions. Slowly and delicately tending to your folds. Running his tongue throughout the center of that sweet spot. His head burrowed deep between quaking flesh. Now wasn’t the time for snarky commentary or sarcastic retorts. He was going to prove that every bit of what he said was true. Without so much as a phrase uttered between the two of you, he’d give you the indication to keep grinding yourself against his mouth. Use him to your full advantage and derive all the pleasure you could from him. Ride out your orgasms and let him take away every ounce of your stress..right now, that was his only duty. Grasping for your hands, he’d keep you in place as you rolled and bucked those hips forward, nearly coming forth from the mattress. “Are you okay, baby? Tell me how you feel right now..” but if the faint ring of arousal around his lips and the way you were shaking was any indication, he had to guess that you were feeling pretty damn good! “I—so good..” that was the only thing he wanted to hear. To hear that you were okay. That you were feeling something..that you weren’t entirely numb.

“Thank goodness..here..” he didn’t want you to reach a climax just yet. That was something he wanted the two of you to achieve together. He truly wanted you to be one..

“Look at me..look me in my eyes, right now..” almost subconsciously, your head shifted to perfectly align with his own. Faces only mere inches apart as he bridged the space with slow, soft pecks. Ones that would undoubtedly leave you yearning for more once they concluded. But he wouldn’t dare to pause..dare put a stop to this sensual moment. Your energy meshed with his, your bodies so close and skin pressed directly atop one another’s…there wasn’t a single place he’d rather be than right here. This was more than just sex..a meager compensation for his shortcomings but rather, the birth of a new dynamic. Hoping to leave behind the days of trivial arguments and childish antics..he wanted to scream it from the rooftops that he belonged to you. No more the days of being immature to one another. From here on out, he wanted honest, effective communication. To be real with you in every aspect. To learn about you so that he could be attentive and love you even when it was impossible for you to do so on your own. In your weakest moments, on your bad days and roughest storms, he could be that brave protector you always needed.

“Hold my hands, baby. I’m right here, I promise…” you were barely speaking; eyes soaked and brimming with tears because you’d waited so long to feel this. For someone to come and take your worries away..

“Please..I need it. So bad..”

he dare not deny your request as he hastily removed those sweats, discarding them onto the floor, along with the pair of panties he glided down your calf until hit your foot..your body itself was more than a pleasure vessel. More than just the anatomy itself. Your breasts, your thighs, your center..it was more than that. This was home. Where he’d always come to find solace when he needed it most. Where he’d always return..so when he’d ease himself into you, one inch following the other..breathless moans ensued right behind it. The sensation of being sucked in and never wanting to let go. This is what true love making felt like. Eventually, you’d rope each of your limbs around his frame, coiling him in a tight embrace; mirroring the feeling of your insides around his shaft. Try as he might to push through, Ace was barely making headway..you were so tense still..almost as if you didn’t trust him. He’d heard your sentiments. The ‘I love you’ returned so sweetly but part of you still had reservations. Many nights had you given him your body, willingly without thought. Not searching for a thing other than menial pleasure..and he’d accepted! Selfishly taking you for his own needs and desires but could trust him with your heart? Could you trust him to hold something so fragile and protect it with his life? Would he truly love you the way you deserved?…

“..I’m sorry..”

just then, you’d hear him uttering in a shrill whimper. The warm dampness of his tears soaking your shoulder blades. He was crying!..for the first time ever, he had let go of all borders and barriers. He removed and shed all doubt he’d felt with other women. He was vulnerable..

“I’m so sorry, (y/n)..I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Still easing in and out. That member pushed through the sponge-like bundle of nerves as his words rolled off his quivering lips. Nipping at your earlobe with gentle kisses that sent chills coursing through your spine. He was so remorseful for allowing you to sit here in despair. What type of man was he? “But I’m here now…I’m here now and I promise I’ll never leave you again. You have my word, baby. I love you so much, (y/n)..”

He couldn’t change his past but he could atone right here and now..making a vow to not only you but himself. That he’d never desert you in your time of need..both entrapped in a bout of hysterics, you’d sob quietly whilst your bodies collided in a fit of bliss. The lewd movements became a mere afterthought. You were connected and ascending on a higher plane at the moment and nothing could take you down. “I..I forgive you…I love you too..please..don’t leave me.” Somewhere behind that tough exterior was that frightened girl..once too afraid after being harmed by so many, to confront this scary world was making her reappearance. She was no longer alone. She had friends, amazing coworkers and now? A man who adored her more than life itself. He’d instantly feel those constricting walls loosen at the mention of the apology and now he was swollen and pushing through. The bed would rock underneath your colliding frames and before long, those inevitable peaks drew near.

“So close, baby..just a little more.”

“Don’t stop..”

but he could hold out no longer and neither could you. The intense emotions proved to be too much and you’d succumb to those powerful feelings. The wave of climatic bliss washing over you both in only a few minutes of beginning. That sensitive core gushed with secretions and juices alike, signifying that you couldn’t hold back. And he wouldn’t make you.

“Let it out..there you go. I’m so proud of you, (y/n). That’s my girl..”

Coaching you through that orgasm before he even thought of reaching his own. You’d both release loud cries and tear filled pleas to follow. He’d hold you close and you’d cling to his skin as if you were mere seconds from crawling in. Reveling in the beautiful moment revered as afterglow. It was magical..a type of love that you wanted to experience until the end of time..

“And I’m yours. All yours..I belong to you.”

pain was a temporary sensation, meant to only last for a season. But love? It remained for a lifetime. And much like the flames of a burning fire, sparked from an ember, he’d fight through anything to ensure that what you had lasted. After the blaze was put out and the smoke cleared, no matter the circumstances or storm..he’d be right here. Forever and always!

@honeybleed 🫶🏾

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mcdonaldsnumberone · 10 months

Text

SPICY!

letting them have spicy food on a date

gender neutral reader

HIORI YO!

As long as he gets to spend time with you, Hiori’s down to try a little bit of whatever. He’s never been too picky to begin with, and while his parents’ strict lifestyle hasn’t given him too much freedom to explore different kinds of foods, he’s glad that you’re there to show him all sorts of new things. He might cough a little bit and down a bit of water, but spicy food is no competition for Hiori! He’ll down anything you pick out on the menu like a champ, and at the end of the date, he’ll insist that he pays. He’s not going to let you spend your hard earned coin on him, not when he’s on the path to accumulating a bit of a paycheck himself through Blue Lock, so he’ll simply tell you that you can repay him by showing him another yummy place to check on your next date together!

“Is it too much? I can ask them to get you more broth-,” you trail off worriedly, noticing how pink your boyfriend’s cheeks are. Hiori shakes his head, and he swallows down another mouthful of the spicy soup before smiling up at you softly as if to reassure you that he’s really alright.

“It’s a bit spicy, but… I can handle it. It’s really good! My parents never let me have something this spicy growing up.” His lips press into a thin line at the mention of his family, but he shrugs it off the best he can for you. “But I get to have it now, with you. And I want to taste it to the fullest!”

“That’s all nice and good, but are you sure? There’s a fine line between enjoying things to the fullest versus biting off more than you can chew.” You grin, tapping your fingers against the restaurant table. “No pun intended.”

Hiori lets out a small chuckle at your horrendous joke. A boy like Hiori reminds you of winter: his frost-like cyan eyes and hair, the way he touches you like the first breath of snow, his words dissolving sweetly as if they were snowflakes on the tip of your tongue. Sometimes you wonder if the world is too intense, too fiery for someone like him, but the more you feed him experimental spoonfuls of your love, the more he develops an appetite to melt himself bare all for you.

“I’m sure,” he reaffirms, and he takes another generous spoonful and swallows it down without any issue as if to prove his point. “Although I don’t think some of the guys back at the Blue Lock program can say the same. I bet that Karasu would go home crying if he tried any of this.”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised. “Karasu? With that tongue of his, you’d think he’d be able to handle worse.”

“You’d be surprised. Want me to prove it to you?” Hiori asks. His normally innocent eyes sparkle with a tinge of boyish mischief. “Why don’t we order some to take to him? And we’ll see how long he lasts.”

YUKIMIYA KENYU!

Ever the gentleman, if anything disturbs Yukimiya’s peace, he won’t really let it show unless he has a real reason to be honest. Yukimiya could be burning inside out, with his tongue barely hanging on for dear life, and you’d have no clue that whatever the two of you are scarfing down was too spicy for him. If it’s something hot in temperature, he might have to wipe his glasses a few times, and he’ll vehemently deny that there are tears in his eyes or that there are beads of sweat on his forehead. He has to keep up his act of being a loving and princely boyfriend when he’s in public, but once you let your guard down when you’re with him in public, Yukimiya will show you how to properly turn up the heat.

“I have to admit, love-,” Yukimiya sighs, not-so-discreetly dabbing at his damp forehead with a napkin, “I have no clue how you manage to eat any of this without any issue. And I thought I was used to handling spice! Your food is at least three shades redder than whatever I ordered. It makes me worry for you.”

You shrug, and you lean over to taste a little bit of the dish Yukimiya ordered. It barely leaves a tingle on your tongue, and you debate for a split second whether or not you should play nice. Yukimiya has always been nothing but the most caring and sweet boyfriend you could ask for, but situations where you could make him squirm are hard to come by.

So, duh, you have to tease him.

“Hmmmm? Worry for me?” You innocently cock your head to the side. “Why, is it too spicy for you, Yuki? I thought you could handle that much… If it’s too much, do you want me to eat it instead?”

Yukimiya coughs unceremoniously into the crook of his arm, and he shakes his head. As lovely of a boy as he might be, just like every single player in the Blue Lock program, he has an ego that he can’t part with, not even when it comes to you. “Nonsense, sweetheart. I can handle this much with ease. I said I’m worried for you. You have no reason to worry for me.”

“Ehhhhh?” You lean over the table, and you press your hand against his forehead as if to measure his temperature. His beautiful wavy hair brushes up against the back of your hand, the ticklish sensation sending tingles up your spine. Yukimiya is disgustingly handsome, even when he doesn’t intend to be, and you purse your lips together. “But you’re sweating soooooo much! Jeez, Yuki, if you can’t handle this much spice, how are you going to handle me?”

Despite the joking tinge in your voice, the gaze Yukimiya flashes at you is dark, sensual, and it makes your knees instantly feel weak. He grabs your wrist, and he squeezes just the slightest bit as if to warn you.

“Trust me,” he whispers, chuckling under his breath, “Don’t you think I’ve developed enough tolerance to try things a bit spicier? Even more so when it involves you, dear love…”

OLIVER AIKU!

Oliver is a fiend for any and all spicy foods. It’s enough to make you wonder how his poor stomach survives. Whenever the two of you get hungry, you can bet that he’ll suggest something spicy to eat. To make matters worse, he guzzles down spicy food as if it’s nothing, and if you let your guard down, he’ll totally reach over and steal the food off of your own plate too. You can’t get too mad at him, or he’ll yank out the “I’m a grown man and a professional athlete, so I have to eat a lot!” card. Either way, if you somehow agree to treating him for a meal, prepare yourself for the spiciest eatery in town and for him to clear multiple plates of food. Just make sure he brushes his teeth right after, or he’ll definitely try to steal a kiss!

“I know that poor toilet of yours is going to be crying later.” You shake your head incredulously as Oliver scrapes his plate clean, the glass of water you fetched for him earlier still untouched. “Or your tongue. I don’t understand how it’s possible for a human to eat all of this and enjoy it.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows down the last of his meal, and he sits back, finally satisfied. He licks his lips clean, and he winks at you.

“What can I say?” He laughs nonchalantly. “You know I can’t hold myself back when it comes to hot things. That includes food and cuties just like you.”

You scoff, folding your arms and looking away from him with a huff. Oliver can be so ridiculously cheesy with you, and he plays it off as him being a romantic guy by nature. You seriously wonder how he managed to pull so many lovers when every pick up line he spews makes your skin crawl, but at the end of the day, you know you’re not any better. You’re formally dating him, after all, so as cringe as his courtship might be, you’ve come around to learn to love it.

Not that you’d ever admit such a thing to him.

“If you’re done eating, let’s get the check,” you dismiss him quickly before he spews even more of his widely “loved” sweet-nothings at you, and you fumble for your wallet. “I said I’d treat you-”

“Ah, ah, ah, no need for that.” The defender quickly flips his own wallet out, and he waves you away. “C’mon, I’m a guy with a big boy job now. You don’t need to treat me to anything. I should be the one treating you. That’s the perk of dating a pro-athlete, don’t you think?”

“You sure? I don’t mind.” You look at him firmly. He waves you off again, and you acquiesce and put your wallet away.

“All you need to do is treat me to some sweetness later, if you catch my drift.” The boy flirtatiously winks at you again, and any goodwill you had towards your boyfriend immediately drops. You deadpan at him, looking at him square in the face with the most lifeless eyes you can conjure up, and you reach for your wallet again.

“Nah, I’ll just pay.”

MICHAEL KAISER!

The boy looks like he’s going to explode just a mouthful in. Not only does Kaiser have a horrible spice tolerance, he’s also ridiculously stubborn and refuses to stop eating once he starts. He’s also dead set on impressing you, so he’ll choke down whatever you order, even though his tongue is on fire and he’s two seconds away from crying like a little baby. You don’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t look particularly handsome when he’s fanning himself and downing every pitcher of water he can grab, but you appreciate the sentiment of at least finishing whatever he started. Just be sure to look up the route for the nearest ice cream store, because Kaiser’s going to need a cold treat after anything spicy.

“Kaiser.”

The blond barely holds back a cough, and he raises a hand to signal that he’s alright. You don’t buy it for a single second. He’s making good progress on the spicy stew he decided to try, but he also looks like a ticking time bomb with how red he is in the face.

“Kaiser, you don’t need to finish it. Why don’t we get it packed up to take home, and I can finish it instead?” You offer, not wanting your boyfriend to sear off his taste buds, all because he refused to quit eating something out of his clear comfort zone.

Kaiser shakes his head stubbornly, glaring down at the remaining stew. “Absolutely not. I’m not a coward, and I’m going to finish eating this.”

“Oh my god.” You bury your face in your hands, and you groan loudly. “Kaiser, you’re not a coward for not finishing something that’s too spicy for you. Quit being stubborn before you hurt yourself.”

“I’m not gonna hurt myself,” he hotly retorts back. “Besides, even if I do, you’ll be there to tend to me, won’t you? Give me a little kiss on my tongue to make me feel better?”

He looks at you hopefully, blue eyes all sparkly with the idea of you French-kissing him. You wonder if he’s the idiot for considering the idea or if you’re the idiot for even dating him in the first place. You decide to make the smart choice of snatching his spoon out of his hand and motioning for the waiter, ignoring the wails Kaiser lets out when you’ve stolen his moment of glory.

“You’re sooooo mean to me!” He pouts, sticking his very irritated lips out. “How am I supposed to impress you if you don’t let me do anything?”

“You can impress me all you want on the soccer field,” you quickly shush him, tapping his forehead with your pointer finger. “If you want a kiss, just say so. I don’t need you doing all sorts of mental gymnastics for my attention.”

Kaiser pauses for a moment, but he grumbles out, “Fine. Guess I’ll let it slide if you’re agreeing to give me a kiss. Okay then, pucker up, darling!”

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #hiori yo #yukimiya kenyu #oliver aiku #michael kaiser #x reader #my writing

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poptartzz2 · 10 months

Text

⋱⟡ Hot Cocoa ✩ Miguel O'hara ⟡⋰

❀ Read this before you begin! ❀

For those of you who enjoy reading on Ao3, it’s posted here

✩⟡∵⋰ Synopsis: Getting snowed in with your friend is one thing, but getting snowed in with a gorgeous and horny man like Miguel O’hara is an entirely different ball game. It’s one you’ll have to navigate after grabbing a lovely sip of Hot Cocoa.

✩⟡∵⋰ Pairing: Miguel O’hara x fem!reader

✩⟡∵⋰ Warnings: 18+/ MDNI; little bit of flowery language

✩⟡∵⋰ Contains: Friends to lovers, slight fluff and angst, NSFW, mentions of cheek clapping and other sexual references , homie cops some feels lol

✩ Miguel’s thoughts are in purple

✩ Your thoughts are in pink

✩⟡∵⋰ A/N: I’m so nervous to post this, I hope ya likey (٥⁀▽⁀ )

Coffee. Java. Frappuccino. Dolce. Mocha. Ristretto. These are just a few of the names that belong to the different brews you prepare each and every day.

Tall. Muscular. Quiet. Intense. Amusing. These are just a few of the qualities that belong to a peculiar customer you get the chance to interact with daily.

Miguel is his name. Miguel O’hara.

That’s the name of the man who enters your safe haven each and every morning, with a quiet and intoxicating energy, ten am on the dot, every single time.

He orders the same simple beverage every visit, sitting in the same peaceful spot resting beside the shop’s window, and he remains quiet every month. Untouched. Unbothered.

Well, scratch that. Something about this man feels familiar to you. When you get the pleasure of taking his order and having pleasant conversations with him, you find a sorrowful look in his eyes. It’s the kind of haunted look you’ve seen staring back at you in your own mirror each day, each month, every year.

His eyes. They’re red in hue, beautifully rich in emotion, hungry, and longing for something. These are the pair of eyes you get to look into everyday, and today was no different.

Or so you thought.

After a series of startling and bone chilling events, you’d find this gorgeous man’s gaze, your friend’s gaze, transform into something you’ve never seen before.

One that’s hungry for something he didn’t think he’d be able to have again. That something is you.

A beautiful woman who he has grown to enjoy and who he loves spending time with. Yours. His. All for the taking, after grabbing a comforting sip of hot cocoa.

↞✯ 。 .・☼・. 。✯↠

Today has been awfully chilly, however, that’s always good news for you.

Despite having to deal w/ freezing temperatures in your room, that peacefully rests above the shop, snowy days typically mean you get a day off.

Don’t get me wrong, you love the art of coffee making, but a day with less work is always nice. A win is a win, especially when you're the only one on shift today.

This means you’ll have less picky customers to deal with, and you’ll have the chance to enjoy one particular customer more easily.

In fact, when you happen to look up from making some dope latte art, you easily spot him strutting into the shop, making a beeline towards you.

Keep your cool, girly. Keep it chill. All puns intended.

“Hey Miggy, how are you today? Up for something new?” you brightly question, as the handsome man greets you.

This is the first time you’ve called him Miggy. You’d like to think that the two of you have grown to be friends (at the very least), but perhaps calling him this would make him uncomfortable, especially since you typically call him Miguelito.

However, as he stares back at you, you find his brows slightly jumping, and eyes widening but only for a moment, just to be replaced by a soft, sweet, and rare smile, that gently tugs on the corners of his mouth.

A mouth, you had never watched before, with a set of teeth you had never seen before. Sharp in shape, white as snow, warring for the attention that the beautiful snowflakes dancing outside, easily bring.

“Hi sweetheart, now that you mention it, I think I’d like to try something new today. Do you have any recommendations?” Miguel softly asks, as his eyes shyly avoid your own, while he moves to rifle through his wallet.

A wallet filled with memories baked in from the life he once had. The life he misses dearly, and the life he believed he’d never taste again.

As he listens to you speak now, his heart is in search of something tasty, flavorfully reminding him of his daughter Gabriela, and the fun and playful drinks she loved to get.

Thankfully, you give him a place of solace, and a peace of mind with one drink he can’t pass on trying.

“The final item I’d recommend is our “White Strawberry Coco-Moco”. I know it sounds interesting to say the least, but I think it’d be wonderful for today, especially since it’s been snowing for hours now. It’s the perfect thing to keep you warm.”

I can think of a few other things that would easily keep me warm involving you…

Oh no, it’s happening. Just shut up please, not right now.

“I know it’s been ordered quite a bit and if I’m being honest, it’s some of the best hot chocolate I’ve ever tasted. I-“

Before you can even finish describing the drink, Miguel happily goes with what you’ve offered.

He knows if Gabi were here, she’d be so excited to try it. So he has to get it, in memory of her, and because you recommended it.

“I’m sold. As you know I drink the same damn thing everyday, so why not change things up a bit? And like you said, it’s quite chilly today with the snow, so I’ll go for it. I know anything you make will keep me warm.” he says, as he fishes out his debit card.

The next thing he says, comes more quietly and is nearly undetected.

“You’re so talented with this coffee thing sweetheart, everything you make tastes absolutely beautiful… just like you. You’re so beautiful.” Miguel softly cloaks under his breath, as he finally meets your eyes.

Looking at him once more, you find yourself melting, just for a moment under his fiery gaze.

Did he really just say that? Looking like that? Oh my…

As you once this man over, your eyes begin drinking in every ounce of his presence and style.

You find it all too easy to gawk at his long and slimming black trench coat, that’s accompanying a dark & tightly fit cable knit sweater, who’s turtle neck collar accentuates his gorgeous facial structure, and accents a lot of muscles you’ve never noticed before.

Or at least that’s what you like to tell yourself, when that’s far from the truth. Here’s the reality:

Anytime Miguel walks into a room, it’s as if everything is drawn to attention; charmed and demanded to look at him.

This means you’ve had zero issues with taking account of this man’s muscles, piercings, his height, amongst many, many other things. Very interesting things.

Things are clearly no different now.

Lowering your head in an attempt to mask your nerves in front of your lovely friend, you don’t hesitate to have a little fun with him in hopes of recovering.

Surely he didn’t think he could just say those things under his breath without any repercussions right?

“Excuse me Miggy? I didn’t quite catch that. What was that last bit you just said? Something about beauty?” you playfully ask.

“Huh? What? Oh nothing. Just that hot cocoa will definitely keep me warm because it’s so… beautiful..like you said.” Miguel painfully murmurs, as he struggles to confidently meet your gaze.

What the hell was that ? No puedo…

Nodding your head with a soft smile, you easily shake off your nerves as they’re replaced by sweet laughter, and you begin making his drink.

Little did you know, Miguel wasn’t planning on going out today. Considering the weather, he thought it’d be best to stay at home. However, at the sight of your face flashing across his vision, he easily changed his mind.

And how dare he try to ruin the tradition? The lovely tradition he’s kept up for over a year might I add. Where he comes in every single day, relaxes, gets some work done, people watches, and gets to spend time with you.

Sometimes when you’re on your break, he’ll buy you lunch and the two of you will enjoy the afternoon together. It’s something the both of you so desperately need.

Miguel also enjoys tipping you, whether you’re the one ringing him up or making his drink. No matter what you’re doing, he will tip you. He appreciates your sweet conversations, and you’re the only person who can make his drink just the way he likes.

When someone else makes his stuff, he pays you extra, as if he’s begging you to make it instead next time.

While Miguel waits for this new and exciting drink to be prepared, he notices something odd, but sensible. Considering he enjoys people watching, it’s no surprise he’s caught the lack of customers in the shop today.

In fact, as minutes and minutes begin to pass, he not only finds the shop emptying itself, but he also catches the shift in weather and temperature.

Watching as the beautiful and gentle snowflakes outside swiftly begin to turn into a heavy torrent of wind and ice, Miguel feels a sudden urgency to get back home. Especially when he remembers he forgot to do something important.

As in life threatening important.

I wanted to sit and chat with YN today, but I don’t want to get caught in this storm. Wait. You've gotta be kidding me.

I forgot to take it this morning. I really can't stay now.

I need it. If I don’t have anything in my system, I’m afraid of what I’ll do or who I’ll become. Getting stuck in here means I’d have to go without the serum, and that’s not good for anyone, especially YN.

But I can’t leave her here alone, not in this weather. Damn it…

While you finish preparing his drink, and one for yourself too since you’ll be going on break, you just so happen to catch a glimpse of what Miguel is staring at so intently, and you instantly pause.

In the time it took for you to make two simple drinks, the whole world outside your little comfy home, turned white. Completely white.

As you further look around the shop, you realize no one else is here besides yourself and Miguel. Everyone is gone.

Happily lost in thought over your friend, and your enjoyment of making this chocolate delicacy, you easily missed the snapping change in weather.

While you move to place Miguel’s drink in an interestingly cute coffee mug, and finish garnishing it with sweet toppings, the lights above you begin to flicker, the wind suddenly begins to violently howl, appliances clatter, and the warmth in the room instantly vanishes.

POP. POP.

Immediately jumping at the loud noise of electric friction, you quickly sigh when the lights dramatically go out, and as the room grows stark in silence. Just like that, everything is out. Everything has left you.

Warmth. Joy. Electricity. Customers, and so much more. Gone, in the blink of an eye.

Funny enough, people and things swiftly leaving you behind isn’t something new or foreign in your life, or in Miguel’s.

Just as Miguel has lost people in his life, you too have lost people that you’ve held close to your heart. Some of them are gone because of you, and that’s a guilt you’ll never be able to shake.

That’s one of the reasons why Miguel and yourself have become friends, despite his initial rough and bold disposition.

Underneath that rocky exterior, that’s battering with the world beating up against him and a boatload of grief, there’s a man with a soft interior. A man with a shattered heart that's slowly being put together again, by you of course.

With the popping of the light fixtures, and the whirring and buzzing of the coffee machines coming to a halt, heavy clicks of suede booted footsteps come walking towards you.

As a large arm suddenly leans against the order pick up counter, you breathe a sigh of relief. Having Miguel here right now couldn’t be more perfect.

The last thing you would need or want, is to be left in this shop, cold and all alone.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

“Nice weather we’re having hm?” Miguel asks, as his playful question shockingly warms the air. Instantly smiling, you eagerly respond.

“Oh it’s absolutely gorgeous. Who doesn’t love a freezing winter day with nothing to keep you warm?” you brightly say, as you come from behind your workspace, and peel off your apron.

Or at least you’re trying to.

Before he even has the words to respond to, Miguel slowly begins to walk towards you, as his eyes never leave your frame.

All this time, he’d been watching you, intently listening to words drip off your tongue, attentively watching your smile, and closely looking in places he shouldn’t be.

Considering this, he found it all too easy to see you struggling with the apron tightly wrapped around your waist. A waist Miguel often thinks about squeezing, holding, roughly gripping, etcetera, etcetera.

Abruptly feeling a large presence hover behind you now, your body grows stiff and your mind begins to scatter.

Your friend doesn’t help you to feel any differently, especially as his breath slowly dances across your ear, humming a melody you’d never thought you’d hear, which easily sends a tingling sensation down your spine.

“Let me help you with that sweetheart…” Miguel breathily smiles into you, as he gently steadies one of his hands against your waist, before moving to loosen the bow tightly woven behind you.

As he masterfully removes your apron for you, your thoughts are frozen on what just happened. Even after a year of spending time with Miguel, not once had you ever experienced this.

A moment where the line between friend and “I wanna fuck you” grows awfully thin. A moment, where you could visibly and audibly encounter Miguel purposefully leaving you breathless.

One moment he’s quietly complimenting you under his breath, and the next he’s doing this. What in tarnation is going on…

Completely acting as if nothing happened, this man finally responds to what you said, as he remains closely behind you.

“Woah, who said you didn’t have anything to keep you warm? Are you cold right now? I can certainly help with that.” Miguel smiles deviously, as he lowers himself to gently and ever so slowly, wrap those large and calloused hands of his around your waist.

Badump. Badump.

Your heart beats faster.

Badump. Badump.

His strong arms pull you closer.

As you now lie against Miguel, his head moves to rest against your shoulder and into the warmth of your neck, while you both sweetly sit in a peaceful silence, and comforting embrace.

Until you fully come to recognize what’s happening right now.

As soon as you realize it all, in panic mode, you swiftly remove yourself from his touch, and nervously turn around to meet his gaze.

There’s absolutely no way this man is acting like this. He’s never been so..what can you call it? Amorous. He’s never once touched or held you like this before, especially with such longing and affection.

Simply because you’ve been friends.

Friends.

What a beautifully painful word, imprinted and engraved on your relationship with Miguel. A word you desperately wish could be washed away and replaced by something else. By something more.

Frantically trying to process this all, you need a way to escape, just for a moment.

Easily thinking of something on the fly, you thank the brutal blizzard for its handiwork, leaving you in need of warmth and light.

“Ah- thank you for that Miggy. Um- I actually have a few candles and blankets upstairs, do you mind if I go grab them for us really fast?” you nervously say, vaguely avoiding his maroon dressed gaze.

“Candles? Blankets? What are you up to sweetheart, trying to wine and dine me?” Miguel softly smiles, as his lids grow heavy and his voice silky smooth, thick and heavy, weighted with a lust for more of you.

Hearing him now, you’re completely baffled. Don’t get it twisted, wining and dining is the least of what you’d like to do with Miguel, but who is he right now? The Rizzler?

Once again trying to hide your startledness, your playful side comes to aid you in your mission.

“You wish that were the case, don’t you Miggy? Or surely you’d like to be more than wined and dined? Besides, it's not even evening yet, so don’t be ridiculous. But seriously though, I want you to be okay; it’s freezing in here. Do you mind if I go and grab them from my room?” you ask.

Miguel slightly pauses at your statement of 'you wish'. Somewhere deep inside, your kindness has warmed his frosted heart, and much like the storm outside, he was heading down a dark path before he met you.

You are his candle that helps him to see when things get dark. You’re his blanket that keeps him warm on nights when the cold wind of grief and anger seizes his breath and thoughts.

Sometimes there are nights when Miguel lies restless in his bed, with no one to comfort him, with nothing to woo him back to sleep.

Those are the moments when his phone lights up with a call from you, his solecito, his lovely little sun.

With seemingly perfect timing, whether it’s late at night, or early in the morning, whenever he’s in need of comfort, you’re right there with him. Calming him down, encouraging him, and reminding him that everything will be okay. Of course, he doesn't hesitate to do the same thing for you.

Talking for hours on end, smiling, laughing and getting to know one another better, you often communicate like this. Whether it’s over the phone or standing face to face, like you are now.

Even if Miguel said yes to your inquiry, he wouldn’t need any of those items. He has you and that’s all he needs. You’re all he’ll ever need.

Yes you may be friends, but at times when he finds himself thinking about you and wishing he were with you, wishing he were inside of you, those are the moments when he dreams of being more.

More than just a man from the coffee shop. More than just a friend you can spend time with. He wants to be called yours, which is something he’d never thought he’d be able to experience again, but he’s not surprised you’re the reason why he feels this way.

“Hello? Miguel, are you there?” you ask out of curiosity, as the man gets lost in thought.

“Ah yeah, lo siento. Feel free to, and actually let me help you with that.” he softly says, with the rubbing of his neck.

“Oh okay, thank you.” You say, trying to mask your worry. You needed to get away, and now you’ve single handedly invited this man to come following after you, up to your room. A room you don’t want him to ever see.

Ignoring this though, you just suck it up and let Miguel help you.

What could possibly go wrong?

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

“Alright, let’s go then. I know I told you I lived upstairs, but I realized I haven’t given you a grand tour yet. Don’t worry though, there isn’t much to see…anything that’s good anyway” the last bit you whisper under your breath, with vague enthusiasm, which Miguel easily hears.

Unbeknownst to you, he can detect lots of sounds with his extra enhanced senses, due to his genetic makeup. Nothing will easily slip past him, and sometimes this comes with a cost.

There are too many situations to recall, where Miguel often finds his mind drifting into forbidden spaces when he’s around you. Especially when he can hear your heart racing like crazy in his presence.

It leads him to think about certain activities that might leave you a little winded and thoughtless….

Activities he has to keep himself from imagining, for both your sakes, simply because there’s that beautiful line of friendship he can’t cross, even though he so desperately wants to.

He’d love nothing more than to keep that pretty heart of yours beating just for him, in ways you’ve never imagined.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

As you two head upstairs, Miguel instantly sees what you’re talking about.

Considering he’s such a large man, walking and moving in this cramped space is quite difficult and it causes him to direct his attention towards you. You’re so sweet. So compassionate. Very Grateful.

With the limited area and items you have in your living space, “your room” is more like a glorified closet, and yet he’s never heard you complain about it, not once.

He knows he would, if he were you.

Fascinated that you never grope or say anything negative about your circumstances, he finds it’s because you’re too busy caring for others and trying to be a goofball. He loves that about you.

“Ack I apologize you have to see this. I'm not typically messy but things can get a little disorganized to say the least.” you nervously chuckle, as you painfully allow him to see where you live.

With things scattered across your floor, and sprawled across your bed, you feel terribly embarrassed. On the one day you decide to let your room be a little messy, a friend you find extremely hot, walks in and gets to see everything in all its glory.

Wonderful. Absolutely Wonderful.

Praying and hoping that things will be okay, Miguel thankfully reassures you while you go fishing out your candles, candlesticks, lighter, and blankets.

“Don’t worry about that mi solecito, you’re just fine. So fucking fine…” Miguel softly says, with a hidden smile as he now leans against your doorframe and watches you from behind.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

While you are moving around your room, in search of everything you need, you easily miss Miguel glancing around as well, while he patiently waits for you.

In his waiting, he just so happens to spot a poorly hidden, and very large object.

It’s bright in color, long, thick, round in shape, and laying right next to your bed… the bed you've laid in, spending nights and nights thinking about Miguel.

Curious about it, but not that curious, he quickly tries to avert his attention from the doodad, but it’s too late as he comes to fully recognize what it is. Although it's wrapped in a silk cloth and barely tucked away in your nightstand drawer, there's no denying what it is.

There's no denying what it's been used for. There's no denying who uses it, and why they choose to. There’s no denying how it makes you feel.

There's also no denying how it makes Miguel feel about you at the sight of it.

That look that he always has in his eyes? The hunger and longing? It's growing now. His eyes are no longer that deep shade of maroon they once were.

At the sight of this object, his eyes discard the once dark hue, and truly begin flashing a dangerous tone of scarlet instead.

Fuck. Me. Why did I have to see this? Now of all times? Today of all days? When I didn’t take it?

When I can’t hold on much longer to this friendship we have? Why now?

Miguel’s recognition and confirmation of what the item is only grows, once he sees your face.

After catching him looking in the direction of where you keep a very personal and pleasurable object, unable to hide it or hide your own self, the only thing you can do is emptily look towards the floor.

With your eyes wide, and lashes slowly fluttering, you can’t breathe. You can’t move. There’s no way this man just saw it. Once again, of all the people that could’ve seen this, it just had to be Miguel of course.

As heat quickly jets across your face, you quickly turn back towards your belongings and focus on grabbing everything you’ll need.

While you do this, Miguel is focusing on your heartbeat.

Here it is again, beating fast in the heat of a moment. A moment where he has caught you being someone he never thought you’d be, doing things he never thought you’d do.

However, it does leave him pleased.

Suddenly feeling a familiar urge creep up within himself, Miguel tries to take deep breaths, as images begin to soar across his mind at the thought of you using your lovely object, and who you thought of while you using it.

Feeling his canines ache, feeling his body grow warm despite the temperature, and feeling his vision begin to shift, he knows he needs to calm himself down but it’s difficult. It’s hard. He’s hard, and there’s only a matter of time before you notice it.

Seeing your “little”…friend, has this man falling apart, especially with the lack of serum in his system, called “Delight”.

Delight isn’t Rapture, but it’s similar enough and he takes it daily. He absolutely needs it, and he can’t go without it.

Delight keeps him from ravaging someone, and not in a gory way, but a sensual one.

It works as a calming agent, taming the hunger that stems from his genetic makeup as Spiderman, along with cooling the symptoms that come with it. However, it isn’t an antidote.

The antidote will give him complete relief, and prevent the hunger from consuming and controlling him. He often needs Delight and the antidote together to be in a good place.

Hunger Symptoms

Increased sexual desire

Increase in sensitivity

Shift in personality/ Bro gets devious

Lack of self control

Aching canines

Increased body heat

Being hard for long periods of time→ not fun at all

The antidote to completely calm his symptoms and satisfy his hunger for the day, is the act of indulging in anything that brings him sexual relief.

Miguel has always had to relieve himself from the symptoms and hunger, simply because it can get difficult to do anything with and without Delight.

Sometimes this means jerking off, or in the past, it meant inviting a lovely woman, or not so lovely (he didn’t care, his body didn’t care. He just needed relief) over to his place.

When he has Delight in his system, no matter the amount, all he needs is something small, simple, and quick. Something as light as foreplay can do the trick to help him feel better.

However, when he doesn’t have anything in his system at all, that’s when things get dangerous. This is when his symptoms and hunger go on x games mode.

When Delight is completely absent from his body, Miguel needs everything, and he needs to feel it all, or else the hunger will consume him.

Foreplay won’t cut it. The only thing that can satisfy and satiate him is intense and powerful movement. Penetration. He needs to feel it. He has to be inside. He needs skin to slap and pound against, a neck to bite, hair to pull, and places to suck, lick and fuck.

He needs his leading lady to climax and release, or the hunger will consume him.

This means that it’s not over until you cum, and not just by any means. You have to cum with his cock alone, and nothing else. No fingers used, no toys allowed. Just him and him alone.

As you have already witnessed, on top of being mega horny, Miguel will begin to transform into someone else when Delight isn’t present in his system.

While he tends to be more thoughtful, reserved, and well composed, he will grow to be more cocky, more bold, and more seductive.

As previously stated, bro gets devious. Not giving a rat’s ass about what flows out of his mouth, he says whatever comes to mind.

If his words leave you a flustered mess, then so be it.

↞✯ 。 .・☼・. 。✯��

As you awkwardly grab everything you need, it seems too easy to pretend like nothing happened, and so you do.

Skipper from Madagascar said it best, “You didn’t see anything”, and you proudly embrace this phrase in order to keep yourself together. Miguel didn’t see it, and neither did you.

“Here we are! I've got a few vanilla scented candles I bought, which smell absolutely delicious, and these warm and fuzzy blankets I love!”you say brightly in hopes of masking your embarrassment.

“Do you mind-“ Before the question can even fall out of your mouth, Miguel begins to take everything you grabbed into his arms and heads back downstairs. He doesn’t leave you to carry one item.

He also doesn’t speak or give you eye contact.

While you believe it’s because of what he noticed in your room, it’s actually because of what he noticed going on in you and in himself.

Trying to avoid your scent, your smile, your bright eyes, your laugh, it’s all impossible because he’s stuck here in his favorite shop, snowed in with you. No way of escape. Zero traces of Delight in his system. Time is running down.

He has no idea what he’s going to do, and neither do you.

As you stand in shock for just a moment's notice, you quickly think about the interactions that just took place and you wonder where Miggy’s head is at.

Considering the both of you have hot Cocoa waiting for you, and nothing to do, it would be a perfect time to figure that out.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

When you go back downstairs, you find Miguel with his jacket off, all the candles lit, and find him waiting for you with blankets and hot Cocoa filled mugs in hand.

He oddly did that extremely fast, but you put it behind you.

Awkwardly creeping into his space, you're wondering what's going on right now.

With the air feeling thick and cold, tense and awkward, your words are easily getting caught in your throat and your mind is easily getting caught in the trap of replaying what happened in your room.

However, that's not the only thing your brain is rehearsing.

Miguel seeing your dildo wasn't an issue just because of his relationship with you. It was also an issue because of what you've done with the object.

After seeing Miguel and watching him painfully tear his gaze away from the toy, you were reminded of every guilty thought, noise, and touch that came along with the dildo's usage.

Everytime you used it, everytime you got yourself ready, you only had one person on your mind.

One person on your mind, who your mind and body ached for, who's voice and touch your core dripped for. Miguel. That’s who.

Remembering all the times you allowed your imagination to take flight, all the positions you used, and all the noises that were made, you can't help but feel embarrassed, flustered, hot, and incredibly horny, especially because the person you constantly fantasize about is right here in front of you.

Just a step away. Just one belt unbuckling away. Just one kiss away. Just one fuck away. That alone is too much. Too nerve wracking.

You can’t run from him now, and you can’t hide. There’s no escape.

You have to face all of your fantasies and come to terms with what he just saw. You have to face it all…but you cast it aside and try to forget everything.

What a terrible idea.

As the room grows awfully quiet, reality truly sets in.

You're snowed in and alone with the man who always leaves your heart racing and mind pacing. You’re snowed in with the friend you’d like to fuck, but can’t do anything with.

Whatever shall you do?

↞✯ 。 .・☼・. 。✯↠

As you and Miguel move to sit down, you awkwardly head towards the sectional couch resting by the shop’s largest window.

While he gets comfortable and seated in one area, you make sure to remain in another, far away from him.

Fortunately for you, you’ll find out this is yet another terrible idea.

As you begin to cuddle up with your favorite blanket and begin sipping on your hot chocolate, you suddenly feel Miguel’s gaze burning into you.

With heat lovingly caressing your body at the sight of his eyes trained onto you, you really wish he’d look somewhere else, at anything else.

If you keep it up, I might pounce on you, and I can’t do that.

So please spare me, and take your fine ass somewhere else. Look anywhere else but at me. I beg you.

As if hearing your inner monologue, you find Miguel chuckling, and suddenly pausing for a brief moment. His chest stops moving, his fingers stop tapping, and a muffled sound erupts from deep within himself.

Looking over at him out of curiosity, you find he’s got his face buried in his hand now, as he leans against the edge of the couch.

“Fuck.” you hear him curse under his breath, as you watch his free hand begin to violently grip the couch.

“Hey…are you okay Miguel?” You cautiously inquire, as you walk over and softly place your drink down on the coffee table nearby.

With one hand still buried in his face, and the other clawing up the furniture, he says absolutely nothing. The only thing you can hear are ragged and desperate breaths that are now overwhelming his body.

Heavily concerned at this point, you move to step closer to him. You’ve never seen him act like this, and you want to make sure he’s okay.

As you do, he puts his hand out to stop you.

“Don’t. Don’t- I’m fine solecito. Thank you-but I’m okay” Miguel murmurs, with frequent pauses and furrowed brows.

Slowly nodding your head in response, you head back towards your spot.

“Okay..” you silently say. However, as you give Miguel one look over before you go, your eyes land on this odd strain in his trousers.

Watching in amazement as it grows tighter and larger by every passing moment, you don’t know what to do, especially since this bulge is absolutely massive.

You know what this is. You know what’s happening, but you don’t know how to handle it. What the hell is going on with him today? Clearly Miguel is not okay….

Deciding to once again ignore it all, you finally grab your cocoa once more and sit back down, getting extra comfy with your blanket, as you tightly grip its fabric.

You need help or you’re gonna lose it.

As you take another swig of your drink as a scapegoat from this very awkward moment, you'll find there is no escape.

Things just keep getting more and more interesting to say the least, and that line we talked about earlier? The cute little friendship line? Yeah, that's getting thinner now.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

“I know you saw it YN, you don’t have to pretend.” Miguel bluntly says, as his breathing steadies and his muscles relax.

Startled, you easily find yourself choking on your drink now.

Leaving you no time to recover, as you get up to put your mug down once again, in your coughing fit, you suddenly feel something slap against your back.

Before you know it, you’re flying backwards into the couch, and right into Miguel’s lap.

Trying to process what the hell is happening, your lovely friend easily brings your focus elsewhere and onto more important matters. Matters that are growing larger, more painful, and more urgent as time passes.

Bringing your focus onto matters that you’ve both dreamt about. Fantasized about.

As you now rest in Miguel’s lap, a place you’ve never been in before, your body easily begins to speak before your mouth can.

Feeling his thighs underneath your own, feeling your back pressed into his, and feeling his arms wrap around your waist, you naturally get comfortable and sink into his touch.

As he now begins to gently caress your sides, you suddenly feel his breath cascade across your neck, and feel his silky voice reach your ears once again.

“You honestly didn’t think I’d let you sit that far away from me did you? When you look this beautiful? How cute...” he grins into you.

“I know you feel it now too YN. Don’t you want the real thing sweetheart? I promise it’s better than your cute little toy.” Miguel breathily whispers, as you abruptly feel his teeth begin to nibble, and his lips begin to gently kiss on your ear.

With hearing “cute little toy”, along with feeling Miguel do all of these things to you, things he’s never done before, your mind is in shock.

Little? LITTLE?! No…no way it’s far from little. Does that mean you’re bigger than-

Unable to compute all of the things happening right now, Miguel doesn’t help with that.

He just keeps on getting lost and lost in you, and how much he wants you. How much he wants to be inside of you. How much he wants to be with you.

Without Delight in his system, he’s beginning to crack and things are only just starting to heat up. Of course he doesn’t refrain from letting you know this, by showing you of course.

Actions are far better than words aren’t they?

Continuing to whisper in your ear, Miguel sends you further and further into the struggle zone, as your heart begins to flutter, and as your core grows warm.

You’ve wanted this man for so long, but you’ve kept those feelings on a tight leash outside of some interesting activities of course. Now that this is happening though, you’re unsure of what to do.

Is this real? Is the sweet and reserved man you’ve known this entire year still here? Or has this been him all along, just buried and hidden away from you?

As you sit in his lap a little while longer, Miguel easily gives you the answers you’ve been looking for.

“All those pretty little things you’ve dreamed of at night YN? All the thoughts and ideas you’ve fucked yourself to? They can become your reality sweetheart. Right here, and right now.”

“I know you think of me when you have your little fun, don’t you YN? Tell me what you think about when you ride it, when you bounce up and down on it, when you pound and sink into it. Tell me…” Miguel smiles into you, as he continues rubbing your sides.

Completely baffled now, your mind grows fuzzy at the remembrance of everything you just tried to forget.

Whispering “Miguel” is the only thing you can manage to do before he easily picks you up, turns you around, and presses you down into his lap, as your legs straddle his own.

Looking into his eyes now, you find they’re a brilliant red you’ve never seen before, a red that could rival even the brightest star in the sky.

As the both of you remain close to one another, with shared breath and mouths only centimeters apart, you suddenly wrap your arms around your friend’s neck.

You then ask him a question. Before anything happens, you need some answers, simply because you have no idea what’s going on right now.

“Miguel…are you okay? I’ve never seen you like this before, where you’re-“

“Where I’m what? Fucking hard for you? Where I’m clawing at this damn couch, trying my best not to kiss you, not to sink my cock into you, not to love you?”

“Well if that’s the case, then you better get used to this. I can’t hold it back anymore. I don’t want to be your friend anymore, I wanna be yours. I simply want you. Every inch, every curve. I want to touch all of you, to taste all of you, but I can’t unless you want this too. Unless you want me too.” Miguel achingly and breathily whispers into you.

Completely baffled, your heart begins to race even more than it already has, and your face instantly grows more warm.

You can't believe it. You truly can’t believe what you’re hearing, even if you’ve been dying to receive these words from Miguel fucking O’hara all this time.

Responding back to the best of your abilities, you let him know where you’re at.

“Oh trust me, I’ve wanted this for so long. I just didn't know if it was okay. If having feelings like this for you was ever okay.”

“I mean who could resist somebody like you…with those gorgeous eyes, and these lovely muscles? I just didn't want to ruin our friendship.” you nervously mumble.

As Miguel deeply gazes into your eyes for a few moments, he looks and feels you over all at once.

Finally, he has the woman he deeply cares about and wants so badly, right here in his arms. She’s underneath his touch, telling him exactly what his body has been yearning to hear. Exactly what his heart has been yearning to hear.

It only makes him more hungry and more eager to be with you.

Look at you all hot and bothered, feeling warmer than the sun.

My poor solecito, I’ll have to fix that for you. Although, I don’t think what I have in store for you will cool you down one bit…

Now easing your mind, and completely erasing that line of friendship that’s laid in the sand for far too long, Miguel dips his toes into the ocean of intimacy, and intertwines his fingers with yours, so that you can both step into the deep.

Even though he wants to be rough with you, he craves being gentle and slow with your body and mind even more, so that he can savor every touch, every breath, every noise, every scratch, and plenty more.

“Well now you know. It’s more than okay to feel this way sweetheart. Can I kiss those pretty lips of yours now? You can choose which ones you’d like for me to taste…” Miguel smiles as you both woozily look into one another’s eyes.

Smiling right back at him, your noses begin to softly intertwine as you say one last thing.

“You can taste both, Miguelito.” you softly grin.

As your mouths move to meet now, a loud crash is heard from upstairs and your lips never touch.

Startled by the sound of glass shattering and the loud howl of rushing wind, Miguel immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling your body underneath his chin.

As snow begins to flow throughout the shop, the flames of your candles easily blow out, leaving the only warmth in the room resting between you and Miguel.

He doesn’t know what’s happening right now, but his primal instinct is built on protecting you and keeping you safe, especially as he hears footsteps dash across the creaky floor upstairs.

With his senses on high alert now, especially with the absence of Delight in his system, Miguel’s heart is beating faster, his hearing is growing more crisp, and his mind is feeling sharper, as he awaits the moment he can go and check things out.

Abruptly smelling a scent he hasn’t encountered before, Miguel takes that as his sign to move.

Leaving a slow and gentle kiss on your forehead, he tenderly places you out of his lap and onto the couch.

“I’ll be back sweetheart, stay here.” Miguel softly says, as he looks back at you before he swiftly leaps up too many stairs at once.

Baffled at the sight of his movements, similar situations come flooding back into your mind, ones that just haven’t added up about Miguel over this past year. Ones that you had cast aside.

Now, you have to address them.

Everything from that leap up the stairs, to you flying backwards into his lap, and from the sight of his sharp teeth alone. It’s clear something about him isn’t completely human.

He’s almost spider-like.

This whole time you’ve known Miguel, you’ve felt like he was holding something back from you, something he felt you’d never be able to understand. Or perhaps it was something he wanted to protect you from.

Now you know what it is.

Not only did you manage to befriend Miguel O’hara, but you also managed to befriend Spiderman.

The Spiderman who has saved yourself and others countless times.

That is the man who you’re snowed in with. It all makes sense now. The tall, muscular, quiet, intense and amusing qualities…. they all belong to him.

Spiderman 2099.

And you just kissed him…. or you almost did.

❀ I hope this was enjoyable ma lovelies & I apologize for any errors made since this was quickly edited!

Sending you lots of huggies & smiles- POPTART 🍓

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara fic #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut #x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #fanfic #reader insert

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nightswatchdisbandmentera · 2 months

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It’s important that the first revelation of Nissa Nissa is accompanied by some level of skepticism from Salladhor Saan and aversion on Davos’ part. It doesn’t sound right that Azor Ahai chose to sacrifice his wife for a magic sword. It shouldn’t sound right.

“A hundred days and a hundred nights he labored on the third blade, and as it glowed white-hot in the sacred fires, he summoned his wife. ‘Nissa Nissa,’ he said to her, for that was her name, ‘bare your breast, and know that I love you best of all that is in this world.’ She did this thing, why I cannot say, and Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel. Such is the tale of the forging of Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes.

“Now do you see my meaning? Be glad that it is just a burnt sword that His Grace pulled from that fire. Too much light can hurt the eyes, my friend, and fire burns.” Salladhor Saan finished the last grape and smacked his lips. “When do you think the king will bid us sail, good ser?”

[…] A true sword of fire, now, that would be a wonder to behold. Yet at such a cost … When he thought of Nissa Nissa, it was his own Marya he pictured, a good-natured plump woman with sagging breasts and a kindly smile, the best woman in the world. He tried to picture himself driving a sword through her, and shuddered. I am not made of the stuff of heroes, he decided. If that was the price of a magic sword, it was more than he cared to pay.

Not only does it not make sense that Nissa Nissa would agree to her husband’s request, it’s also telling how Salladhor Saan expresses relief in knowing that King Stannis didn’t actually forge Lightbringer. Because forging Lightbringer means human sacrifice. And why should one be deprived of their life, even if it’s for a magic sword? Davos is very right to be creeped out by it.

The theme of sacrifice shows up quite a bit in ASOIAF and Davos I isn’t the first or last time. The very first chapter in the series, Bran I, tackles this idea with Jon and the direwolves.

“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him call Father that, so formal. Bran looked at him with desperate hope. “There are five pups,” he told Father. “Three male, two female.”

“What of it, Jon?”

“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”

Bran saw his father’s face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow, the name that custom decreed be given to all those in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own.

Their father understood as well. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” he asked softly.

“The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. “I am no Stark, Father.”

Jon, though he may desperately desire to have his own piece of magic, would not sacrifice his siblings for it. He wouldn’t dare to deprave the girls, Arya and Sansa, of their own magic even when it might be very easy to do so. This is a pretty stark contrast (pun intended) to Azor Ahai and his Nissa Nissa. Azor Ahai’s first line of thought was to sacrifice his wife whereas Jon’s was to sacrifice himself. Sure Azor Ahai got his magic sword, but Jon’s self-sacrifice is not in vain either because he later earns his own wolf, who turns out to be even more special than the rest in the pack.

Bran IV kind of alludes to the idea of self sacrifice through Old Nan’s retelling of the last hero:

So as cold and death filled the earth, the last hero determined to seek out the children, in the hopes that their ancient magics could win back what the armies of men had lost. He set out into the dead lands with a sword, a horse, a dog, and a dozen companions. For years he searched, until he despaired of ever finding the children of the forest in their secret cities. One by one his friends died, and his horse, and finally even his dog, and his sword froze so hard the blade snapped when he tried to use it. And the Others smelled the hot blood in him, and came silent on his trail, stalking him with packs of pale white spiders big as hounds—”

Though the one we know is called the “last hero”, notice that it’s not a title but a mere descriptor; there were many heroes before him who died and he was the last one standing. There is a human toll in this legend, but it’s implied to be self sacrifice. It’s also interesting that though there is mention of a blade, it is the children of the forest’s magic that is key. This does kind of bleed into what we know about the Night’s Watch and its relation to the long night. The Night’s Watch victory was a group effort, rather than the actions of any one man.

We have several legends surrounding the long night that work, but only one involves the cost of sacrificing someone else (that we know of). This might be where GRRM is headed with Stannis and his creation of Lightbringer. Sure Azor Ahai did get his magic sword, but it doesn’t negate the steep human cost. GRRM has lowkey confirmed that Stannis is sure to burn Shireen. And rather than this sacrifice not working, I think it’s more likely that it does work. Stannis does indeed create the flaming sword. But this will be directly weighed by other (self) sacrifices made for the same purpose. Stannis’ sacrifice of his daughter won’t work any better than other characters who choose to sacrifice themselves even when knowing that they are not going to go down as individual legends; I think Jon Snow will once again be the prime example of this, as he has already resigned himself to being a shadow in history despite initially wanting the opposite. Maester Aemon was right in saying that

[…] all deceive ourselves, when we want to believe. Melisandre most of all, I think. The sword is wrong, she has to know that … light without heat … an empty glamor … the sword is wrong, and the false light can only lead us deeper into darkness, Sam

The sword is wrong. Azor Ahai is NOT one to be emulated. Rather, he should be a cautionary tale. He is not any more special for his sacrifice than what the last hero or the men of the Night’s Watch did, even though we know his name but don’t know theirs. GRRM answered the question regarding sacrifice before he even posed it. To make someone else pay the price is flat out wrong. The only true and worthy sacrifice is really that of the self.

#asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #azor ahai #the last hero #stannis baratheon #jon snow #the night's watch #didn’t put in the post but if Jon’s ADWD dream turns out to be true and he does gain his own flaming sword i tend to think he’ll get it #by giving up himself or part of himself in the process #jon is perhaps the most self sacrificial character in this series #which is why theories that dany will be his nissa nissa miss the mark almost entirely #if jon is to be a hero he will do it by sacrificing himself not someone else #he already demonstrated this in agot when he refused a direwolf and again in adwd when he refused winterfell #stannis is meant to be his foil so we could see them being weighed against each other #not to mention that jon’s adwd dream is very much a last hero retelling with references to his companions falling #and him outlasting them though there’s a really interesting reference to him killing robb and ygritte #but I think it’s more to do with killing his own desires to remain at the wall - in addition to his feelings of guilt and abandonment

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i-love-your-shades-of-wrong · 3 months

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you want complex characters? here's Gale.

I am fully convinced that people only hate Gale bc it's Liam Hemsworth and because they think he's annoying - and yeah, it's true, he IS annoying, but to like president snow more than him? (its pretty privilege)

Most people know by now that the love triangle in thg is for metaphorical purposes - the choice between peace and war. And it's not even a choice as a reader - there is quite literally no chemistry between gale and katniss (in my opinion). But that doesn't merit hatred for the character himself.

He grows up in the seam, poor and being the breadwinner for his siblings. (how sad) We're supposed to disagree with his motives by the end of it - he shouldn't want to get revenge because that makes him as bad as the capitol (yada yada yada). And Peeta is in the right because he wants to show mercy. (peace vs war)

But Peeta grows up as the bakers son. Has he ever gone hungry? No. Are we meant to feel bad for him because of his mum? idk. His name was in the bowl far, far less times. Does that make it any better? No, because he's picked (and this is meant to be about how the system is awful... you get it). But Peeta doesn't grow up hating the capitol because they don't hurt him... until the games.

Is this an attack on Peeta? No, of course not, but circumstances are important as the actions taken within them (situation ethics). Peeta goes into the games and you'd think his outlook on life changes, but it doesn't. Some people have stronger cores - a lifetime of security within yourself does that.

Peeta goes into the games again, Gale saves the citizens of 12 in the bombing. Peeta's kidnapped. And Gale says this:

"He might have been tortured. Or persuaded. My guess is he made some kind of deal to protect you. He'd put forth the idea of the cease- fire if Snow let him present you as a confused pregnant girl who had no idea what was going on when she was taken prisoner by the rebels. This way, if the districts lose, there's still a chance of leniency for you. If you play it right." I must still look perplexed because Gale delivers the next line very slowly. "Katniss…he's still trying to keep you alive."

So, he's annoying, but is he a liar? No. He's ever the strategist, thinking of things from the logical point of view. (really grasping for straws but I need a pro and less cons😭)

People really hated Gale for bombs - killing innocent people that just want to help the fallen? (ohno how sad). But are capitol citizens ever really innocent? Bystanders that simply allow children to be murdered year after year? The idea that they simply have no idea of the harm being caused is ludicrous. Do they not have critical thinking skills? No matter what happens in life, you KNOW murder is wrong. No matter what propaganda media shows you.

(also Beetee helped make those bombs too like gale was annoying but stop giving him full credit like if I was beetee I'd be pissed)

So, that comes to the idea that killing people as a whole is unethical, and it doesn't matter that they're awful people. Is that untrue? No. Is it far to those that have been oppressed their entire lives, being told that using force against their oppressors is wrong? Maybe. It's not an easy issue to resolve (kinda explains the metaphor, doesn't it?)

Neoliberalism probably wants you to blame the individuals. Coin, Gale, Snow. Coin and Snow were two sides of the same coin (ooh pun) - politicians, adults, playing for their own power. Is it wrong to enjoy power? No, of course not, just don't abuse it. Gale enjoyed power. But he was fighting for the freedom of the country, not himself. And he's only 19/20. You're a lot angrier when you're younger, as many adults forget.

The system is the real problem, clearly. Why should the capitol have all the power? Why are the districts being used? We don't know. But that's unimportant.

And then there's Katniss. She's the one making the decision - peace or war. On paper, its peace anyday. Katniss has seen both Peeta and Gale's hardships - Gale is a metaphor for who she could have been. Bitter, angry and hateful. It's not unjustified hatred but under Kantian ethics, murder is always wrong. Katniss does not want to retaliate because it's a vicious cycle of violence.

As far as we know, the capitol don't really pay for all they do. I know if I was a district citizen who suffered, I'd want capitol citizens to feel the same way. That is not to say that it is ethical, but it is not unjustified.

It would be more of a fair argument if Peeta and Gale suffered equally, but can you really quantify suffering. Their experiences shape them. Its easier for Peeta to want mercy for the capitol because he wasn't starved his whole life. And Peeta's stance is the right one.

But see, that's why we say complex character and not good person. Because the decisions aren't malicious in intent, just with clashing personal values to the norm. Like, bffr, half the people online hating on this guy would NOT have stood for mercy for the capitol.

(anyway have a nice day this was my ethics essay plan and I'd better get a 9 on it or else <333)

#the hunger games #catching fire #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #mockingjay #ethics #morality #gale hawthorne #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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dumbificat · 5 months

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Day 5 -> kaeya + building a snowman

☆ - building snowmen leads to a question… ♡ - kaeya with mentions of diluc and klee !! ♪ - no warnings, just some festive fluff | gn reader ★ - note: day five of my event ! this wouldn’t stop writing itself haha and there’s a special treat in this one :3

on days where the city is a serene white, the sky having placed a soft snowy blanket over mond in the night, a perfect way to spend your time is by creating your own snowy people. though, not in the way albedo creates life. instead, by gathering snow and making funny looking figures.

you chose to spend the day with kaeya, your cryo-welding partner. he was quick to accept the invitation, wanting desperately to spend some time with his dearest. and so, you find yourself passing the time on a field near the city. the two of you track prints in the snow as you gather the icy material to make your snowmen. it was times like these that you were envious of kaeya’s vision, the synergy between his life and cryo making the job much easier.

there was only so much you could do when your hands were getting numb from the cold. with the use of his vision, kaeya created some snowy details: a claymore, a tiny dodoco. after some teamwork and many icy puns from your lover, the job was done. before you stood a rather grumpy looking snowman, a happy little snowgirl and two figures which mimicked the pair of you.

“there, we should be done now, dear.” kaeya spoke, his warm breath leaving a small smoky cloud in its wake.

“we look like a family…” you trailed off, not wanting to upset your partner when you know how his relationship with his brother is. though, when he turned to you with his classic smile, any fears you had died down.

“i suppose you should join my family then, hm?” with that, one of his knee’s hit the snowy ground, and a small box was pulled from his pocket.

“you are the fire that keeps me burning, the sparkle in my eye. you are the very thing that keeps me going, keeps me alive. i’ve never loved anyone as much as i love you, and i don’t think i ever could again. take my name, or i’ll take yours, just… please. marry me.”

it took you a moment to process this quick development; one second you were building snowmen now you’re being proposed too. once the shock of it all wore off, you were quick to say yes. before the word even fully left your mouth, kaeya was quick to scoop you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest. with his arms locked around you, he whispered soft phrases of love and thanks to you, though they were muffled by his quiet sobs.

make no mistake, he had never felt this loved before. he knew that he had found the one, that special someone with whom he with share life’s ups and downs. when the day comes that the truth of his life comes out, he begs that your vows of promised love with still hold. until that day, he will savour the comfort you offer, the kind smiles and gentle kisses you so readily give.

at the end of it all, the only witness of such a special moment were the snow people. if the grumpy claymore welder and the little troublemaker seemed happy at what they just witnessed, you two didn’t notice. it was only a matter of time before you revealed this magical moment with the real members of your family anyway.

you see now why kaeya was quick to accept the invitation. you were just thankful that you thought to ask him to join you. what a lovely turn of events on a frosty day in mondstadt.

thank you for reading day 5 ! please reblog if you enjoyed :)

link to event post

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triniteevee · 1 year

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Hot and Cold

(grusha x reader drabble)

Grusha may have a problem with you showing up to his gym unannounced.

Calm. Cool. Collected.

Despite his tendencies to get slightly agitated in the midst of a close battle, Grusha is generally regarded as being the cool guy. Pun intended.

You were a threat to that reputation.

“Woo! Go Grusha!”

The sound of your voice has him whipping his head to the stands, and sure enough there you are in all your glory with a big grin on your face. The sheer ridiculousness of the sight of you chips away at his composure. You’re without your usual snow gear which leads Grusha to infer you had again rushed yourself here to watch another of his unscheduled battles. Sweet praises and unwavering cheer leaves your lips despite the chatter in your teeth and the shiver of your form.

You’re relentless, he thinks yearningly.

He feels the mask he usually wears slip away slowly. All too quickly, he’s doesn’t feel like Grusha, The Sub-Zero Shredder anymore. Now, he’s just Grusha who’d really like to take you out of this cold and into his kitchen for some hot choco.

Though his carefully placed scarf conceals the grin he couldn’t resist, his eyes shine with mirth. He recalls how you once described his “smiley-eyes” as “doll-like.” If it had been anyone else, he thinks he may have pushed them down a slope, but the sincerity in your voice had reduced him to a clumsy, stuttering mess.

The way the audience gapes at his face suggests that the scarf no longer serves it purpose, and that you had once again utterly wrecked his poker face. Despite all the snow, Grusha feels hot. Maybe it’s all the eyes on him, or maybe — and even more likely— just yours in particular. He feels like he’s on fire but he must be some kind of masochist because he just can’t stop himself from smiling.

He doesn’t miss the way you look at him so pleasantly as he approaches, nor the way your eyes widen in surprise as he takes off his scarf. He’s really glad that he also doesn’t miss your smile as he wraps the warm fabric around you. It lasts for only about a few seconds but it felt like it was just for him. He hopes you realize his own smile that he still can’t get rid of is also just for you.

The little private moment you two share is more than enough to get him raring to battle. The sooner he beats down this rookie, the sooner he can get you someplace nicer.

As he returns to his side of the court, he bitterly thinks, this snowy mountaintop isn’t good for anything besides battling.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you stare adoringly at the scarf he practically swaddled you in. Somehow you manage to sink the lower half of your face even deeper in the fabric.

He amends, well maybe one thing.

Maybe while he makes your hot choco, he can let you have free reign over the rest of his wardrobe.

#pokemon scarlet and violet #gym leader grusha #grusha x reader #gym leader grusha x reader

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thesightstoshowyou · 5 months

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Christmas Cheer

Pennywise x GN Reader (NSFW)

Warnings: Christmas music, blood, gore, supernatural elements, a bit of predator/prey, fingernail trauma, thigh riding, threats, alien anatomy, noncon, forced orgasm, facial, really dumb Christmas puns, Pennywise is a tiny bit sweeter than I usually write him.

(This is my secret Santa gift for the lovely @fingersinmyhair )

‘Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring tingle tingling too (ring-a-ling-a ding-dong-ding!)…!’

Every nerve in your body twitches. This song, this fucking song has played nearly thirty times during today’s shift. You swear you’ll go postal if you have to hear it one more god damned—

“Have a great day!” you chirp, handing the customer their purchases. They don’t even acknowledge you, too wrapped up in the flurry of last minute Christmas shopping.

The smile immediately slips from your face.

‘It’s the most wonderful time of the year…!’

Fuck this holiday.

***

Your shift complete, you cannot get to your car fast enough. Chilly air bites at the exposed skin of your hands and face and snow crunches underfoot as you make your way through the mostly empty parking lot. Your breaths curl white before you in the darkness, only the odd streetlight to guide you.

Inside your vehicle is hardly a relief, and a thick layer of frost has settled on the windshield. Great.

The engine rumbles to life as you attempt to rub warmth back into your fingers. The radio starts up—that’s weird, you’d had it synced to your phone on the way to work—

‘…he sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake, he knows…he knows…he knows…he knows…HE KNOWS!’

You freeze, alarmed when the song begins to skip, the crooning voice growing deeper and more menacing with each pass. The back of your neck prickles, your eyes growing wide the longer you stare at the radio. This doesn’t make any sense. How could it be skipping like that…?

Wild cackling suddenly explodes from the speakers and you startle. Hurriedly you dive forward, fumbling with the radio and clapping your free hand over your ear as the laughter rises to deafening levels. The click of the knob plunges you into silence, save for your gasping breaths.

Desperately, you try to rationalize what just occurred. They had some kind of technical issue at the radio station. Your car’s wiring is on the fritz. It has to be one of those, right?

Yet, as you pull out of the parking lot, manic laughter still echoing in your head, you can’t shake the eerie feeling hanging in the air. You drive in silence, too afraid to try the stereo again.

Turning down your street, all the familiar decorations flash and twinkle, your neighbors apparently never short on Christmas spirit. You feel a little guilty you hadn’t decorated this year, but there simply hadn’t been time with your work schedule. You hadn’t even put up a tree.

Foreign red light illuminates the last houses on the block. Someone must have put out new decorations, but why so close to Christmas? You nearly pass your house, your frazzled mind not registering what it sees. Slowing to a crawl, your jaw falls open.

The snow blanketing your lawn glows red, reflecting the…Christmas lights splashed across the front of your home. The lights form the shape of a face, if you can call it that. Eyes blink and lips curve in an unnerving grin, too wide and too toothy to be natural. Worse, every single bulb is red, and not the typical, cheery Santa red. These are an evil, deep crimson that bathes the entire block in ominous color.

Someone must be playing a prank, right? But who would have the time and skill to do such a thing? Your neighbors certainly don’t know you well enough to joke with you like this, and your friends are all working, as far as you’re aware. Who then…?

Dumbfounded, your nerves buzzing, you pull into the driveway and turn off the engine. Cautiously, you slide from your car and approach your front door, the flashing red lights reflecting off your keys as you work the lock open.

You’ll just go in, find your gloves, and then figure out where these decorations are plugged in to shut them off. Taking them down will have to wait until tomorrow—

Inside your home is deathly silent. You freeze, acutely aware of your own breathing. Even the blood rushing in your ears sounds like a tsunami.

Outside, red lights blink and reflect off something on the floor…something wet. You take a step closer, bending down slightly and squinting. Realization hits and you recoil in alarm.

It’s a large boot print, but instead of being clear like melted snow, it’s red. Red like the lights outside. Red like blood. Your gaze is drawn to the others just past it, a trail of them leading further into your house.

Whipping around, you reach for the door handle and twist, intent on escape. You’ll race to your car, call the police. Maybe you can stay with a friend—

The handle doesn’t budge. Baffled and winded by barely contained panic, you jerk the door and throw your entire body weight into another twist. Your sweaty palms slip on brass. It’s like the whole knob has been frozen in place.

You pull, kick, and beat on the door with your fists, but they could be feathers for all the good it does you. The wood doesn’t budge.

You’re trapped like a rat.

How is this happening?

Hastily, you pat your pockets in search of your phone. Your heart sinks when you find them empty. It’s still sitting in the cup holder of your car.

Slowly, you swing back around. You’ll have to try the back door next, but this requires you follow the bloody tracks deeper into your darkened home. You swallow thickly, heart beating a tattoo against your ribs.

You tip-toe forward, careful not to step on any noisy floorboards. Every sense heightened, you’re acutely aware of the disturbing absence of sound. You should hear the hum of the refrigerator, the buzz of the heater, the drip of water from the leaky sink, but the only sounds come from you as you creep down the hall. The hair-raising feeling of being watched keeps your head on a swivel and your skin crawling.

The living room is up ahead. A few more steps. Then the kitchen and back door are just beyond. You can do this.

When you step into the room, you must clap your hands over your mouth to stifle your horrified scream.

Illuminated by the flashing red light pouring through the windows is a massive spruce tree, a tree that wasn’t there when you left for work this morning. Instead of tinsel and baubles dotting its branches, dripping innards hang and twist through its needles. Right at the top, completing this macabre imitation of a Christmas tree, sits a severed hand—a star.

You stare in shock, rooted to the spot in bone-numbing terror. Blood drips from intestines and patters onto the wood floor below. Who would have…could have done this? Whose body parts are those?!

You need to get out of here—

Before you can force your legs into motion, a cheery giggle echoes around the room. Your breath catches in your throat, your eyes drawn to the fireplace. It had come from the chimney….

Rustling. Soot puffs from the fireplace. Your chest heaves, your heart stuttering.

Long, white fingers—gloves—sneak out from the chimney to grip the facing, one hand, then another. The muscles in your chest freeze, terror choking you.

Next comes a blood red Santa hat perched atop a wild tuft of orange hair. A cracked, white forehead emerges from the gloom, followed by a pair of glowing, golden eyes trained directly on you.

You can’t move. You’re frozen in disbelief and dread as the entirety of a lanky body unfurls from the fireplace, joints popping and cracking as the creature stands upright to face you.

It is tall, menacingly so, and dressed in a tattered, soot-covered Santa suit. But what draws your gaze is its visage: It’s painted white with streaks of crimson curling over yellow eyes to its mouth. The same color stains its nose. It’s like clown makeup….

Almost.

The impossibility of it all leaves you reeling. This man, this thing…it isn’t human. Of this, you’re certain. Your mind races but no thoughts stick, no plan for what to do. You teeter on the edge of hysteria as you internally scream at your seizing muscles to move.

You jolt when the creature inhales deeply, unseen bells jingling when he moves his head. Drool, thick and viscous, spills from his fat lower lip to drip onto the floor like the blood raining from the grisly tree. The red mouth curls into a wicked grin.

“Gingerbread and cocoa. Just in time for Christmas,” it says, voice lilting. Raising a hand, it points one spidery finger toward the spruce. “Do you like the tree? Pennywise decorated it all by himself.”

Finally, your limbs react. You spin on your heel and sprint, a choked shriek tearing from your throat when maniacal laughter echoes through your home. It’s the same laughter that had filled your car not an hour ago.

You stumble, grip the wall, use the leverage to launch yourself around the corner, only to skid to a stop when you find the front door has completely vanished. Only a wall remains, smooth and white like the rest.

Panic, panic, what do you do, where do you go—

Long fingers wrap around your ankle and yank. You crash to the floor with a cry and a heavy thud, palms stinging where they catch your weight. Whirling around, you find your leg clutched by the intruder. Its mouth spreads far too wide across his face—much like the mouth lit up on the outside of your house. It grins at you with too many pointed teeth.

You loose a blood-curdling scream when you’re dragged back down the hall. You writhe, scream, flail, claw at the floor until your nails crack and break off, but the grip around your ankle holds firm. The clown, unaffected by your struggle, simply drags you along like Santa’s sack of gifts, whistling the tune of Jingle Bells all the while.

He deposits you before the gruesome tree, your shirt growing damp and heavy as it soaks up the blood that has pooled. Frantically, you attempt to push to your feet but the clown pounces, hateful cackling filling the room as he grips the back of your head and shoves your face into the wet floor. The overpowering stench of iron fills your nose and you gag, your cheek sliding in gore the harder he presses.

“W-WHAT DO YOU WANT?” you sob, your feeble attempts to buck and wriggle thwarted by the clown’s weight against your back. More chortling, close to your ear this time. The scent of its carrion breath and the chilly drool smeared against your ear makes you tense and retch in disgust.

“Poor Pennywise never gets any Christmas presents. Always left off the list, always forgotten. Boo hoo hoo,” he sings, feigning sorrow. He shifts and shoves a thigh between your thrashing legs until the limb is flush with the apex of your thighs. The sudden warmth right against your most sensitive parts pulls a yelp from your lips, your eyes growing wide as saucers.

“Rut against it, little treat, or Penny will tear your face off. I bet it tastes like cookies. Cookies for Santa!” You whimper and furiously shake your head, but the prick of needle-teeth against your cheek has you raising your hips and grinding.

You snap your eyes shut, doing your best to ignore the heat that blooms in your gut at the contact. As though he can read your mind, the clown gleefully giggles and matches your rhythm with pressure from his own leg. You grit your teeth, a pathetic little sound lodging in your throat.

“A good toy! The pretty toy wants to moan, wants to float up, up, up and away! Pennywise has a little angel for his Christmas tree, hmmm?”

“N-No, no,” you whine, your tone more desperate than you wanted. Your face heats up, hips rocking of their own accord, want burning in your gut, your underclothes growing wet the more you leak. This is wrong, this is sick, what are you doing, stop this, stop, you’d rather die than admit this is good….

Wouldn’t you?

“Time for Pennywise to open his present!” The clown rears back, grips ahold of your pants, and rips. Fear tips the scale over desire, a scream leaving you in a rush, struggle renewed.

His weight quickly returns and pins you to the slippery floor, jagged teeth setting against your ear. He hisses, “Bad toys get broken. You’re not a bad toy, are you?”

Frantically, you shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. Pennywise grips your jaw, the sound of fabric tearing making you jolt. Out of the corner of your eye you watch as his fingers elongate, the tips of black claws piercing through white gloves. They come to rest just under your ear, sharp points threatening.

Pressure against your center instantly draws your attention. Something thick and hot writhes against your entrance. You choke on a cry and begin to fight, only to gasp and still when claws scratch bleeding lines down your neck.

“Show Pennywise what a good toy you’ll make.” A shaky breath hisses between your teeth. The drooling head of what you now understand to be this creature’s length prods then burrows into tight muscles. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you’re stretched and filled by the clown’s seemingly endless girth.

Finally, his hips come to rest against your ass. Pennywise sighs, his painted nose nuzzling your hair, a breathy chuckle puffing against the shell of your ear. “Soft and sweet and allllll wet, just for Pennywise, yes?”

He gives a quick thrust. All the air you hold in your lungs leaves in a huff, embarrassingly wanton sound following close behind. The stretch is incredible, discomfort toeing the line of pain. Still, it’s satisfying, being stuffed so full where you need it the most. It’s too much, yet so delicious your eyes cross.

Slow rocking of hips gradually turns to harsh snapping until you’re scooting forward along the slick floor. Each thrust makes you keen; so dizzy are you with sensation you hardly register it’s you making the racket. In your ear, the clown grunts and growls, hidden bells jingling with the pistoning of his hips.

With his grip on your face, Pennywise tips your head so he can drag his tongue through the blood dribbling down your throat. He licks up your cheek, noisily slurping up tears. “Pennywise was right! Tasty little snack, a tiny treat. Swallow you in one bite, he will, ohhh yes….”

Pleasure mounts. You reach the precipice so quickly you don’t even have time to protest. A feeble, “Wait, wait,” leaves your tongue in a garbled mess when the pressure deep in your belly explodes. Ecstasy ripples under your skin, your toes and fingers curling, an unchecked moan filling the room.

Pennywise growls, the sound ominously deep and rumbling, like some primordial beast. It vibrates against your back and sends a frightening thrill up your spine. He rips his cock from your spasming channel and flips you onto your back. You manage to snap your eyes shut a millisecond before thick ropes of sugary-smelling cum paint your face and chest. Accidentally, you swallow what lands on your tongue, the taste so overpoweringly sweet you gag once again.

Breath reeking of rotting meat washes over your skin and you quickly wipe away the seed coating your eyelids. You find the clown’s painted face inches from your own, golden eyes gleaming in your darkened living room. Gloved fingers—no more claws—smear spend across your cheek and shove more into your mouth. You grimace, your tongue slick with the flavor of cotton candy on steroids.

Another insane laugh, another flash of shark teeth. Will he kill you now? Add your guts to the tree? Swallow you whole?

“Frosted my little ginger snack, didn’t I?” he jokes. You stare, bewildered, terrified, exhausted, and trembling from head to toe.

Long fingers pat your cheek, tap, tap, tap. The clown jumps to his feet, boots clicking together. He bends backwards, bones snapping deafeningly in your quiet home. Long legs swing up and over, his body twisting and bending unnaturally until he’s sliding back up the chimney. The clown winks once before disappearing from view.

Then, silence.

You barely breathe, listening intently. Is he…?

‘JUST HEAR THOSE SLEIGH BELLS JINGLING, RING TINGLE TINGLING TOO!’

You jump and scream, hand flying to your chest when your television flicks on, volume at max. Sleigh Ride blasts through the speakers, the screen fuzzy static.

Groaning, you slump backwards, head thumping against hardwood.

Fuck. This. Holiday.

#pennywise #pennywise the dancing clown #pennywise x reader #pennywise x you #it 2017 #it 2019 #it movie #stephen king’s it #thesightstoshowyou

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tristikov · 3 months

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My dad passed away recently after a nearly year-long battle with cancer. He was 65. His wife took this photo a number of years back, and it sublimely captures so much about who he was, while instilling a mystique that I think is also fitting. I wrote the following to read at his funeral:

---

If you’ve ever seen my father in a crowd, you’d know he wasn’t hard to spot… Though his clothing tended to be modest, and his manner gentle, his 6’6” stature meant he usually stood head—and often shoulders—above those around him. That isn’t to suggest he wasn’t a down-to-earth individual, and I’m sure most anyone who knew him could attest to his kindness and can-do desire to help others.

Physical height runs in his side of the family, but even as a full-grown adult I’ve continued to look up to him in more ways than one (…an appreciation of wordplay also seems to be in our genes, but I shouldn’t jump the pun). As a kid I remember riding with him in “the Chev,” a woods vehicle he built himself, collecting, splitting, and stacking firewood for the winter. Through him I learned to appreciate the simple pleasure of working outdoors, roaming the quiet woods, and being considerate of the land.

As I grew older, I also worked with him on his cranberry bogs for a number of years. I learned much in that time, and though I chose to pursue a different career path, I have always looked back fondly on the time I spent working with my dad… Installing sprinkler heads in the busy thaw of Spring, battling weeds and fixing irrigation lines in the blazing Summer sun, setting up the berry pump, corralling the cranberries, and harvesting the crop under the brilliant skies of Autumn, then driving his hand-built ice sanders over the frozen bogs in the chill of Winter. Thanks to him I also have an undying appreciation for the local pizzeria, iced coffee in every season, and taking a nap after lunch (at least when time permits).

A farmer’s life is a demanding one, and each morning, fueled only by a cup of Lipton tea, my father rose to the thorny challenges of every season: Watching over the crop on little sleep through Spring and Fall frosts, maintaining our vehicles and the myriad of farm equipment, or building whatever was needed with the resources at hand—often sawing a few 2-by-4s, welding some angle iron, and bolting on an old motor… Sometimes all three.

Though my father designed and built the house I grew up in, the shop barn we relaxed and did projects in, the shed he kept his dirt bike and later ATV in, the horse barn, the camp in Maine, and at least half a dozen other sheds and outdoor constructions, his most recent endeavor—a new cedar log house--was his masterpiece… Thanks in no small part to the hard work and dedication of his dear wife, the two of them built a lovely home together overlooking the very bogs he had spent so many years tending to.

She also helped him to complete the camp in Maine which he had begun all the way back when I was a child. I took many winter trips there with my father over the years, to relax, ride the snowmobile trails, and to break fresh snow searching for elusive moose antlers. My dad loved the north woods, moose, and a day of both hard work and leisurely puttering… Maine’s state slogan is “the way life should be,” and I think my dad agreed.

I’ll miss greatly those trips with my father, more so even than working with him on the bogs. I treasured the time to connect and learn from him. I’m probably not the only guy to think highly of their dad, but with the wide breadth of skills, depth of knowledge, and social presence he possessed, it was, and still is hard to not be in awe of him. I am a father myself now, and as I remember the impressive size of the trusty old snow boots my dad wore every winter, I feel that his shoes are going to be very large ones to fill.

While my dad no doubt lived a full life, it was far too short, and I weep for the time he cannot spend with his loving wife, his young grandson, and all of his family and friends, with joy and warmth in his newly built home. He was a great father, role model, and mentor. He was one-of-a-kind, and made an indelible impression on those who met him. He will be missed by all, but when the warm late-summer nights give way to cool early-autumn evenings and the cranberries ripen scarlet under a clear blue sky, that is when I will miss him most.

#eulogy #father #dad #tribute #cranberries

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theaudacitytowrite · 9 months

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Chapter 3 - The Council

Series Masterlist

<- Chapter 2

Summary: Loki meets up with the council for the first time and gets confronted with his past doings.

Warnings: internalized racism, a bad reference to the sex-pollen trope, cringey writing

Word count: 2.640

You had walked through the icy streets for a while. Everything here reminded you of medieval markets at the renaissance fair just on ice. The houses that were planted without a specific pattern rose around the, what you assumed, marketplace.

As you walked by some stands, Jotuns hastily packed up their goods. You smiled at one of the market traders, but she only rewarded you with a cold stare.

“Can I ask you something?” you quietly asked Loki.

“If it’s not a pun.” he huffed as he stomped through the snow. “…it’s not a pun.” you glared at him for ruining the perfect opportunity to lighten the mood, “I was just wondering why the Jotuns seem to-“

“Despise us?”

“Despise is such a strong word. I would’ve said that they seem wary of us.”

“Admit it, you wanted to say ‘icy’ in the first place.” Loki raised his eyebrow at you.

“Tsk, I would never.” you feigned innocence, “And stop deflecting my question.”

“Jotuns don’t like other beings. If you do not look like them, you are simply beneath them. They hate each and everyone, even their own kin.” Loki explained reluctantly.

“But why?”

“Because Frost giants are primitive beings who oppose any rules and generally create havoc and hassle.” you could hear the bitterness in Loki’s voice.

“So that’s where you got your mischievous side?” you chuckled out loud but regretted it instantly. Loki stopped dead in his tracks as he looked down at you sternly.

“I’m not like them.” he pressed through gritted teeth. Silence fell over you heavily as you continued your stroll.

“I didn’t mean to insult you…” you whispered sheepishly; your eyes glued to the path before your feet.

“Let’s just get back to our rooms.” Loki changed the topic. You walked in silence for a while when you arrived at the gardens before the palace. Your gaze wandered over the uneven path as you tried to navigate your feet around all the icy lumps and clumps that got denser the closer you got to the garden.

At first, you hadn’t even realised that the weird-looking clumps on the floor were flowers but as you got closer the icy clumps emerged into intricate flowers that glistened in the setting sunlight.

“Woow, look at these! They look like ice.” you gasped and let yourself fall onto your knees, right in front of the flowers.

“Don’t touch them!” Loki hurriedly exclaimed.

“Why? Are they poisonous?” your pulled back your hand instantly.

“No… but I don’t think you’d like their effect on you.” Loki hummed and hawed.

“Why? No… are you for real? Are they like these aphrodisiacs you hear of all the time?” you asked with a cheeky grin.

“Well.. yeah. Kind of.” Loki rubbed his neck awkwardly, “But they won’t bloom until spring if not disturbed.”

“What would happen if you’d touch them,” you asked with curious eyes.

“Y/N, I’m not going to explain this in detail. I believe you can imagine it without my help.” you could see a faint tint of red spreading over Loki’s cheeks. You loved teasing him, especially when you succeeded.

“Man, I never realised how prude you can be. This isn’t about anything nasty. I just wanna understand the science behind it. After all, I’m here to learn more about Jotunheim.” You shrugged innocently.

“Maybe another time. I have to meet with the council in a bit. I don’t want them to wait for me… in the end, they’ll plot against me if I don’t show up on time.” Loki cleared his throat.

“You really are something… so distrustful.” You shook your head slightly, “Try going into this a bit more positively. Might change how they’ll welcome you. This is strange for both sides Lo. All they know is, that you suddenly showed up. They don’t know for what.”

“I know these people.” Loki remarked almost sad, “All they know is to stir up conflict. I’m just trying to think ahead of them.”

“Maybe they’ll surprise you… in a positive way.” you shrugged.

His fists were clenched tightly as he approached the courtroom with long strides. His footsteps echoed through the icy hallways, bouncing off the walls. When he entered through the tall doors, he could feel the tense mood that lay over the room as he walked to an empty seat that was close by the socle in the centre of the hall. All the while he was closely monitored by a dozen of ruby eyes.

As one of the elders stepped onto the socle to begin the conference, he could hear hushed whispers all around him. He knew he wasn’t welcome here, that’s why he didn’t want to come back in the first place. The last time he had interacted with Jotunheim it hadn’t ended well. Loki’s attention was quickly pulled back to the present as the voice of the elder resounded through the icy hall.

"We are gathered here today as one to speak about the future of our nation. As we have known for a long time, the winters have become harsher and the…" Ymir, the elder suddenly began to hesitate for a moment as if he was searching for the most diplomatic words possible, "external influences have hastened the decay of our great nation. That's why we have come together to find a solution as a union of Jotunheim and… Midgard." Ymir drawled the last word, "Our rightful King has returned to assist us in our efforts and mend the relation between our nation and Midgard."

As diplomatic as Ymir tried to sound, Loki could still tell that the appreciative-sounding words were spoken with a hint of indifference towards Loki's efforts. He didn't seem to be convinced of the King's motives yet, probably assuming that Loki wouldn't pull through with his assistance.

“We don’t need a traitor to help us!” a voice suddenly disrupted the order, heads turning and chatter starting to erupt. Loki's eyes snapped away from the elder, scanning the crowd as to make out the instigator.

“Silence!” Ymir boomed sharply, “This is a court of order not chaos.” he scolded sharply.

“But the people are right, Ymir.” another Jotun raised from his seat, standing up to Ymir, “We are making progress already without help from any other tenuous realm. We don’t need their pity.”

Loki’s face twitched. How dare this arrogant Jotun to think he was too good to get assistance from outside this god-forsaken realm, let alone from Loki. If anything, he wasn’t worth Loki’s time or effort. Especially if he didn’t even want help in the first place. Loki glared at the impudent Jotun, his jaw clenching as he stared him down.

“We have everything under control. We don’t need help.” The Jotun grumbled deeply, shooting Loki a scornful glare.

“Yet your population is still shrinking alarmingly with each passing day.” Loki found himself sneering as he got to his feet before he even processed what he was doing.

“You helped decimate us in the first place.” The Jotun spat back, taking a menacing step towards Loki who didn't budge the slightest.

“But I have returned to help.” Loki continued sternly, “What more do you want from me?”

“How? Will you do to us what you have done to your father? Will you wipe us out like the other Frost Giants when you directed the Bifrost directly at us? Why should we trust you?” the Jotun growled with bared teeth.

Loki swallowed thickly. He knew that it wasn’t a smart idea to come here again. It was just a matter of time for the Jotuns to lunge at him for his past doings and end his life for goof. His body tensed up, bracing for the inevitable attack. What would they do to you once he was incapacitated to protect you?

He jumped a bit when the elder Ymir chimed in again, stepping between the two placidly.

“I know the emotions are still running high on either side of this conflict.” he began calmly, addressing the Jotun directly now, “But we have gathered to find a solution, not to stir up another war between the realms. King Loki has returned, despite his wrongdoings in the past, and he is here to help us as a nation to overcome the shortcomings that were caused by the conflicts of the past. We do not ask you to forgive him, but we urge you to think of the future of our kind. Your parents, brothers and sisters, children and all the coming generations. Think of them and what you could provide for them if we manage to overcome these trying times.”

Loki was surprised by Ymir’s words. Since when had the Frost Giant developed a sense of community or even empathy? And since when were children, not a mere necessity to continue their bloodline, devil-may-care? He was actually talking of families and lives and how they could improve their future, not just how to maintain the mere existence of their race.

Loki and the Jotun exchanged one last glare before sitting back down again, the session progressing more proficiently. The conference continued till late into the night as the Jotuns described their predicament in great detail to fill Loki in.

“Elder Ymir.” Loki approached him once the discussion had ended, the other Jotuns already leaving. “Thank you for-“ but before he could finish his sentence, the elder raised his hand to quiet Loki.

“If I may give you advice, your highness…. maybe if you did not oppose to your own skin as much you could be able to reach their hearts.” he looked deep into Loki’s eyes as if to reach Loki’s own heart with his suggestion. Loki felt taken aback by his request, his nose flaring as his throat constricted.

“I’m not opposed to anything.” he lied, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Then it surely won’t be a problem to take a step towards your kind and get closer to a compromise, would it?” the elder remarked slyly.

“No… I supposed not.” Loki replied small as if he was taken back to being a young boy being led kindly in the right direction by his father. An odd feeling, Loki had to admit.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to come to a solution, sire.” Ymir gently patted Loki’s arm, “Just give your people time to process what’s happening. They’re scared, overwhelmed and wary. Give them some time to adjust… to build trust.”

“I will try my best.” Loki nodded.

“Thank you, your highness.” a small smile played on the lips of the elder, “Let’s get some rest and continue our negotiations in the morning.”

Loki nodded and as if he was under a spell, he parted ways with the elder, walking back to his chambers. On his way, he started to gradually snap out of his trance, as if he had been so shocked by the elder’s kindness, that he had forgotten all his effervescent emotions that wanted to spill over his lips during the discussion. Loki still didn’t like the idea of having to change into his Jotun form, but he argued with himself that this diplomatic mission would go over quicker if he’d make the first step towards reconciliation and show up as one of them to earn their trust. Even if he didn’t want to earn anything because he had nothing to prove to anyone... it wouldn’t hurt to get what he wanted quicker if that meant tricking Jotuns into believing he was one of them. After all, these daft creatures would eat from his hands in no time. Loki was sure of that.

Days passed quickly as Loki started to find his rhythm. During the mornings he could chat with you while having breakfast together while you talked about all your plans for the day. You had already managed to make friends with the young Maid Aria that had brought you to your room on the first day in Jotunheim. Loki envied you for your open nature and the ease you had to make people feel comfortable around you. Loki had been wary of Aria at first, but she had turned out as an exception to any Jotun he had ever met. She was timid and kind, always looking for ways to make him and you feel more welcomed and comfortable around the palace. And if you liked and trusted her, Aria couldn’t be too bad, that’s at least how Loki argued with himself.

As soon as Loki would leave the dining hall to walk towards the council, his skin would slowly start to change hues, getting paler with each echoing step he took until it turned from a soft sky blue into a rich dark blue colour that made his features appear even harsher, the intricate markings not helping either. Even his clothes changed into something more appropriate in Jotunheim. He felt exposed without his armour plate, feeling vulnerable to possible attacks by disgruntled members of the council. But as long as he was able to avoid any reflecting surfaces, he would be ok and soon forget about his changed appearance.

But Ymir had been right. The Jotuns were slowly warming up to the idea of Loki helping them. After their long days in court, he was finally brought out to inspect the damages the attacks by the Aesir had left. Not only the devastating impact of his own attack but also the liberation struggles of Odin and even Thor's visits had left their impression on the Jotunheim's infrastructure. Deep craters lined all over the terrain, pulling apart neighbouring houses and villages. Loki couldn’t help the feeling of shame and dread creep up as he saw all the destroyed homes that lay in ruins. The remnants of their inhabitors left behind to rot away slowly, a bitter memory of what once had housed a loving family.

Often times when Loki came back after these gruelling and draining meetings, he'd head directly to the living area of the palace, his shimmer set back into place firmly before he even entered the wing you were allowed to roam freely in. When he'd enter through the wooden doors, you either were welcoming him back with a huge smile and a tight hug, taking away all these negative feelings and thoughts he had gathered during the day. You would report your daily discoveries, making him forget anything that he had seen that day, even if it was just for a few hours.

On other nights, just like tonight, you were already fast asleep on the couch in front of the fireplace, too tired to wait for Loki to come back. Loki couldn’t help the smile that tugged on the corners of his mouth as he watched you sleep peacefully for a moment. And then he felt it again. He interpreted it as the envy of your ability to sleep so peacefully. You had nothing that kept you awake at night. You hadn’t done anything as horrible as he had done. Maybe it was fair that he would toss and turn each night, as he realised that he was indeed not any different than the Jotun's. He had been just as much of a monster as they were. Destroying the houses and the lives of innocent, no matter how awful they might have been or could've turned out to be.

Loki shook away these thoughts quickly, instead leaning over your frame and softly kissing your hair before he scooped you up into his arms to carry you back to your room, so you could get a well-deserved night's rest. Loki noticed that the wind outside had picked up tonight, the snow dunes whipping against the windows of the castle as he walked past them. The storm had arrived quicker than Loki had anticipated and it seemed to be quite substantial.

Intermission 1 ->

Taglist: @lucywrites02 @funsized-mimi @gaitwae @queenjosielaufeyson @1marvelnerd3000 @tendertalesmain @donttouchmylaevateinn @elius-learns-to-write @kokinu09 @midnights-ramblings @sititran @anonymousfiction211 @itsybitchylittlewitchy @iamalinarose @xorpsbane @vbecker10 @limiworld @ilovefanfiction @tinctureofmaddness @cosplayingwitch @tanushreeg27 @kellatron55 @scram1326 @mooncat163 @leucoratia @acefeather2002 @mochie85 @usagishira @michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @awkward-and-indecisive @evelyn-kingsley @holdmytesseract @lokiprompts @peaches1958 @domesticloki @lovingchoices14 @vickie5446 @ladyjames78 @mcufan72 @avoliax @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @evelyn-kingsley @highkeysimpingforloki

Hope I didn't miss anyone. It's been a while since I used my tag list 😬

#loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki drabble #loki blurb #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki friggason

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wannab-urs · 4 months

Text

Pedro Pascal Character Fanfiction Recs | Vol 31

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy folks!

New blog theme, new TSD format. Do we like it? Welcome to volume 31 of The Spreadsheet Digest, my weekly(ish) fic rec post. From now on I'll link my personal stuff plus the masterlist where you can find the actual spreadsheet, my fic rec masterlist, and info about how to appear on this list in the future.

All info provided by the author unless it was blank, in which case I filled it in.

Fic Recs Below!

Freeze-thaw

Joel one shot by @covetyou

Summary: With your holiday plans ruined when a freak snow storm blows through town, you spend the fesitve period holed up with your partner, Joel Miller, learning exactly how warm you can keep each other in the snow.

Tags: no outbreak, fluff, smut, fingering, playing in the snow, temperature play, Joel probs has super bad circulation, established relationship but it's their first Christmas together and reader has some relationship insecurities

This Barbie Likes Objectification

Joel one shot by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Summary: after a fun date seeing Barbie with joel, he realizes a certain scene involving brainwashed barbie dolls has inspired some nasty desires in you. he's more than willing to help you explore them.

Tags: explicit sexual content (18+), no specified ages (but obviously both adults), objectification, degradation, humiliation kink, dirty talk, creampie, unprotected sex, dom!joel, sub!reader, slight spoiler for the Barbie movie

Patience

Javi P one shot by @foli-vora

Summary: Javier teaches you to be patient

Tags: smut: fingering, oral sex (f receiving), praise kink, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap that willy before getting silly), creampie, restraints/use of handcuffs, orgasm denial, smoking, swearing

Stay Close to Me

Jack one shot by @alwaysbethewest

Summary: You're a rookie agent sent to work undercover with Jack as a married couple!

Tags: Fake/undercover marriage! Statesman casefic! A little romance, kissing, coarse language, very mild peril and hurt/comfort, and a splash of alcohol. Reader is a junior agent and has some muscle but otherwise no physical/age descriptions. As with any good Kingsman fic, my first step was to disregard half of canon, so this is either pre-movie or an AU.

No Me Suletes

Frankie one shot by @fhatbhabie

Summary: Even though he's bad for you, you still can't let him go.

Tags: Marcus Pike cameo, smut, unprotected p in v, talks of oral, angst angst angst!!, being left at a chapel, cheating, death of a spouse, drug use (buggar sugar) , smoking cigarettes, asshole!Frankie, spanish dialect w/ translations, no use of Y/N, cute pet names, splash of fluff for 2 seconds, someone having a stroke with a small description, no happy ending

Poolside

Javi G one shot by @joelscruff

Summary: just some fun by the pool with sugar daddy!javi

Tags: blowjobs, deepthroating, brief ball worship, daddy kink, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, bad google translate spanish, sweat

"Din"scord Kitten

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

Summary: When bounty hunting doesn’t work out anymore Din has to turn to alternative methods to support himself.

Tags: this is a crack fic lmao, Discord/Venmo/Dr. Pepper existing in Star Wars, bad sexting, dick pics, masturbating, bad Star Wars puns, sex work, cummies needs its own warning 😭, pet names (cyar’ika), oral sex (M receiving), cum eating, no use of y/n

Another Time, Baby

Joel one shot by @swiftispunk

Summary: joel makes good on a promise.

Tags: established relationship, porn no plot, smut, age gap (28/50), unprotected anal sex, vaginal fingering, use of a butt plug, joel miller eats ass and pussy and also has a big dick, some affectionate spanking, creampie, cum play (eating and sharing), a little bit of spit, just a lot of bodily fluids all around, one (1) poetic description of a queef, joel miller's filthy mouth, pet names, ysd!joel at his most soft dom, joel's also kind of feral in this, multiple orgasms, sweet sweet aftercare, pov swap. no use of y/n.

Suburbia (I gave it a lil name, sorry).

Lucien drabble by @julesonrecord

Summary: You can't stay away from him, nor do you really try

Tags: Explicit; angst; oral (m receiving); implied infidelity; past relationship. Suburbia (shudder).

Misunderstood

Marcus P one shot by @magpiepills

Summary: Marcus has a bad day at work and needs you to help him feel better.

Tags: SMUT, established relationship, PIV, oral (f and m receiving) fingering, big dick Marcus, multiple orgasms, thumb sucking, cum eating, cum swapping, Marcus eats it from behind, dirty talk, roughish sex, some degradation, tiny little splash of daddy, porn with no plot, no regard for canon, use of a tie as a leash sort of?, alcohol consumption, pancakes, cardigans, NPR, idk what else man, this is not fluffy Marcus.

Wrest Pin

Din series by BalletOrchard (AO3)

Summary: “I can help you escape the planet,” Mando said sharply, “But I want information in return.” She looked up at him through the small hairs on her face and she whispered, sounding almost lost…As if she didn’t know what else to say… “I have no information.” Something Mando did not believe.

Tags: panic attacks, force sensitive!reader, unprotected PinV sex, smut, mando is a dick, angst, slow burn (romantically), touch starved!din, bickering, arguing, post season 1, fluff, ofc!evangeline, she like doesn’t get off the first time they fuck which i feel like is worth noting, feelings of regret, minor character death (evangeline’s whole fam), follows canon, mando lowkey keeping evangeline against her will but like she’s hiding from the empire so, near death experience(s), the helmet comes off, oral f receiving, blindfolding, shower sex

A Weight Off Your Shoulders

Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Summary: a series of oneshots in chronological order that follow the story of Joel and his new neighbor who returns to Texas following a devastating breakup and called off engagement. With her life completely uprooted and her self-confidence shot, she works through moving on to bigger and better things. Enter DILF neighbor Joel Miller.

Tags: age gap (Joel mid 40s, neighbor late 20s), cheating, negative body image, negative self-talk, discussions of body image struggles

The Peg That Middle Aged Man Campaign 2024 Masterlist

Call for Pegging Fics!

PMAMC on AO3

Trussed Up - I pegged Jack Daniels

Happy Reading!

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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christinesficrecs · 1 year

Note

Any smitten Stiles fic recs? I just love when Stiles is completely gone on Derek and I’m craving some good ones.

Sure! Here are a few. ❤️

Operation: Chick Flick by Inell | 7.3K

Stiles knows agreeing to be Derek’s fake date for Cora’s wedding is the stupidest thing he’s ever done, but it’s a little difficult to say no to the man he’s been in love with for seven years.

I Just Want You For My Own (More Than You Could Ever Know) by yodasyoyo | 16K

“What is with that sweater, dude?”

Derek ducks his head to look at it, abashed. “Uh- Mrs Hernandez knitted it for me. It’s an early Christmas gift.” He smooths it down self-consciously.

Stiles cocks an eyebrow.

“What? She’s my neighbor and sometimes I-” Derek trails off. Stiles’ other eyebrow rises to join the first, and Derek sighs. “Sometimes I help her carry her groceries."

Of course he does. One day maybe Stiles will stop being in love with Derek Hale, but today is not that day.

Reason For Call by 74days | 58.9K | Explicit

Stiles has been working in his call-centre booth for nearly 5 years when he first hears the voice of the new IT guy. Surely anyone who sounds like that has got to be H.O.T Stiles takes it upon himself to get to know him better. The only problem is, he's got no idea what he looks like...

Stay in Your Lane by mikkimouse | 5.3K

Stiles works at a bowling alley and has a crush on Derek Hale, a frequent customer. He deals with this in the most mature way possible: by giving Derek dumb nicknames for every game he plays.

Pick Me Up by Omni | 4.7K

Growing more and more confident as he grew older, Stiles started the ridiculous pick-up lines and joke-flirting with Derek back when he was still in college. After college, it just got worse. Not that Derek minds. Sometimes Derek will play along, because Stiles is funny, and those bad pun innuendo pick-up lines are ridiculously hilarious, and he likes it when Stiles tosses his head back and laughs like that. He loves it when he’s able to catch Stiles off guard with his own brand of humor, loves the way his eyes light up as he smiles at Derek. Pretty much, he’s just kind of hopelessly gone on Stiles, but doesn’t fully realize it.

Then one day…he does.

Coming Home by sheafrotherdon | 9.9K | Explicit

When Stiles comes home from college for Thanksgiving break, the last thing he expects to develop is a sudden, overwhelming attraction to Derek Hale.

Where to Search for Snow by suburbanmotel | 8.9K | Mature

Stiles and his Gigantic Repressed Feelings accidentally affect the weather. A lot. Like. A lot.

A Blossoming Romance by Trelkez | 7.5K

Stiles will just have to try harder next time. No one can ignore him forever.

You've Got Notes by the_gramophone | 14.8K | Mature

Stiles Stilinski has wanted star basketball player Derek Hale forever, but what are the odds of that ever happening? A love story of letters, prom, and the healing power of milkshakes.

Smooth Like Your Face by Cobrilee | 2.5K

Derek is so used to Stiles hitting on him with horribly cheesy pick-up lines, he doesn't realize that maybe Stiles means them. Luckily, Boyd does.

Worth the Wait by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 13.3K | Explicit

Stiles always had a thing for Derek, but then again, so did everyone else. Stiles just wanted to be seen as different, which was why he waited.

But maybe he waited a little too long.

Binomial Coefficients by DevilDoll | 20.7K

In which brainy freshman Stiles Stilinski wants star quarterback Derek Hale to join the math team, AKA math nerds in love.

Breaking Bad Habits by Inell | 3.7K

Stiles has a bad habit of falling for unattainable higher beings that would never so much as look at a mere mortal like him. The latest focus of his unrequited affection is his personal trainer, Derek Hale, who is a Greek God come to life.

Go For The Gold (And A Few Other Things) by SpiritsFlame | 14.7K | Mature

Stiles came to the Olympics with one goal- get a gold medal. By Opening Ceremonies, he has two goals. Win a gold medal, and sleep with Derek Hale. Unfortunately for him, those two goals are equally difficult.

#asks #sterek fic #ficrecs #nrnyx #pining!stiles #mutual pining #idiots in love

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ccuniculusmolestus · 6 months

Note

Headcanons for Henry and Bunny during winter? Like what do they do to pass time, stay warm, etc

getting this ask rn is crazy because I was just writing a fic about this!

okay okay TIME FOR WINTERBUNNY WINTER HEADCANONS

This is a general Bunny headcanon (and I have my reasons for it) but I think Bunny would be extremely sensitive to the cold.

And no this is not just because he is the embodiment of sunshine and lively things in general, but because he's got a relatively weaker immune system (his allergies and asthma could be what causes lower or weaker immunity). People with asthma usually get sicker in winter, it has something to do with the mucus layer on your airways thickening during winter and increasing chances of chest infections and such.

It was also mentioned in the book that Bunny enjoyed the attention he got from being sick (unlike Francis, Bunny recalled his moments of sickness with a sense of pride

so, Winter season + sick Bunny = Henry's problem. ESPECIALLY when they were roommates, of course. I'd imagine if Bunny did fall ill (which he always did at least once during winter), he'd depend even more heavily on Henry.

So Henry's taking his temp, setting his medicines aside ("Remember to take them.") before he leaves for the day's classes, coming back, spending time with Bunny because he gets so sad and whiny when he's sick. I know a lot of people are like Hur dur Henry dgaf about Bunny and while I AGREE that Henry doesn't particularly care for people in the traditional/usual sense he's not some kind of unfeeling, inhuman bastard 💀 Bro is just a 21 year old (Possibly antisocial?) introverted nerd. And just because he became disillusioned with Bunny towards the end didn't mean he always hated him. Anyway--he's the sort who wants to be able to read his books and study in peace so it's like, if he can talk Bunny into sleep, why the hell not!

2. Bunny's excited about the snow, despite his sensitivity to the cold. On days in which his health was good, he would drag Henry outside to make snowmen, snow angels or just have a snowball fight. Henry obliges sometimes, when he's needing a break from his studies

3. If there are any winter festivals in town, Bunny would want to go at least once.

4. On sick nights, there'd be loads of late-night talking, because Bunny wouldn't be able to fall asleep so he'd just talk his head off.

5. Yall already know I gotta add this idc how CLICHE it is but Henry giving Bunny his scarf or his coat when they're outside and Bunny's teeth start chattering <3

6. After Henry moves out, he leaves the little heater with Bunny (but Bunny somehow manages to break it). So oftentimes during winters Bunny would just go and stay over at Henry's. (And no he didn't do opt staying over at Henry's instead of getting a new heater because he was "lonely". that's ridiculous.)

7. First two winters they spent together Bunny would NOT shut up with winter puns because Henry's last name is winter and for some reason it's peak comedy to Bunny

8. (in which Bunny can't fathom the days shortening and has to announce his surprise to each and everyone)

"What the hell! It's only 5 PM and its dark out!"

"Bunny, MUST you observe that fact every day so loudly?"

9. Henry takes care of his plants/garden in wintertime too, of course, pruning them and doing some indoor seed work to be prepped for gardening season. Bunny helps! When he's in the mood.

10. Bunny associates wintertime with Christmas (and thus, getting gifts, vacations and seeing his family). He is ok with inviting Henry (and the rest) to his family home for Christmas. Henry's even spent two winter breaks with him (because he'd rather not go to his own parents). They shared Bunny's room! And Bunny showed off Henry to his family like a proud cat owner.

11. Them sitting by the fireplace and talking (while Henry tries to read).

All in all I feel like Bunny just makes the slow, depressive season a bit more warmer for Henry, and Henry (quite unknowingly) would make Bunny's winters very cozy :)

AND BEFORE ANY OF YOU BRING (THAT) FACT UP

LA LA LA IM NOT LISTENING, I DO NOT CARE IM KEEPING THINGS FLUFFY.

#NOBODY BRING THAT SHIT UP #sigh i love them #thank u for the ask!#asks #bunny corcoran #tsh #henry winter #the secret history #francis abernathy #charles macaulay #richard papen #camilla macaulay #winterbunny #winterhare #tsh donna tartt

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spawnofdeath · 8 months

Text

As promised, since the overwhelming majority voted for wanting to see it, here is my Empires AU main post with all my current notes and thoughts:

Two Sons of Rivendell

(Title borrowed from the poem written for the ending of Empires season 1 by the wonderful @fishy-strawberries on their art blog floweroflaurelin)

AKA me realizing there's two plot relevant reveals of two characters being siblings in Empires 1 and thinking what if I switched them, so Scott and Xornoth get "Hold on now, we're siblings? How did we forget that?" And Lizzie gets "Wait, the demon is my brother?"

Summary:

Scott and Xornoth, rulers of neighboring elven kingdoms Rivendell and Erewyn, rediscover the tales of their people's old gods, Aeor and Exor. What memories have they lost along with the connection to their past?

Meanwhile, in the nearby Grimlands, salmon loving engineer fWhip starts having troubles involving a demonic cod creature. Who is this malicious stranger, and is he connected to Ocean Queen Lizzie?

In no particular order, some notes:

There aren't really just straight forward role swaps exclusively between two characters each, it's all a bit all over the place

I only watched six out of twelve perspectives (Jimmy, Joel, Lizzie, Pearl, Scott and Sausage) so I don't know if I'm missing anything but also it's not meant to be canon-compliant (but also means I don't know how to write the other characters)

This AU is fully falling into the trend of making fanon Jimmy much cooler than he is in canon, but I just think he deserves a proper villain arc (not counting the one he thoroughly failed at in season 2)

Actual story notes:

Xornoth identifies and presents as broadly male-adjacent, and uses he/they

Because there's no possible pun on "siblings" that could work as well as "Seablings" for the purposes of this AU, Scott and Xornoth will be collectively known as "The Twin Kings"

Xornoth's Empire Erewyn (name might be subject to change) is slightly down the mountainside from Rivendell, where it's a bit warmer than on the snow covered peaks (even without their gods, Scott prefers the winter and Xornoth the summer), and has shared borders with Rivendell, Crystal Cliffs, and the Lost Empire (small parts taken off each of those three, but mostly extends into the spawn area, I looked up a map for this so hopefully you get what I mean)

Erewyn exports enchanted books and offers services of custom enchanting for armour and weapons

The Ocean Queen, of course, cherishes all Ocean dwellers, which certainly includes, for most of their life cycle, salmon

Featuring Scott both as one of the Lost Siblings pair and as the guy who falls in love with the demon

Those two plot lines actually might interfere with each other, I cannot imagine Xornoth would be very fond of the idea of his friend/brother trying to date a demon and Scott probably wouldn't take it very well if Xornoth tried to talk him out of it, so it might put a strain on their friendship, but I don't care, it can't be anyone but Scott, I can't make it work with anyone but Scott (the only other option I can think of would be Sausage, and he's already allied with the demon in canon, I don't want him to be in this AU as well)

I'm gonna say Jimmy is also at least somewhat interested in Scott, because, well, he is kind of cute, for someone without any fins or scales, and why not? Some fun on the side, why shouldn't he? There should be more to life than just terrorising people, even for a demon

Farmer (and Fighter) Queen Pearl is far too exited about her new demonic sparring partner and the powers he's willing to share (just to make their matches more interesting, right? This surely won't corrupt her, nooo, how would it?) (Unlike with Sausage, here I actually do like the idea of Pearl still being in a somewhat similar to canon role, except cranked up to eleven to become the role of demon protégé)

Pearl is also involved in this AU's equivalent of the hostage exchange, the other side being Xornoth (Pearl started it by stealing one of Xornoth's owls, but I cannot think of who or what they would have taken from her in return)

Pix as the assassin in that storyline, I think, because it's really funny to me to think that the person who in canon is tracking people's deaths in this AU is causing people's deaths

Lady Katherine of House Blossom, Flower Mage Queen of the Overgrown, tends to what is known as the Memorial Garden

Lord Sausage of Mythland really just wants to be friends with everyone and is always advocating for peace

Xornoth and Shrub have this AU's equivalent of the Cod War (what would that be though? I'd appreciate any ideas)

Joey and Xornoth are the happy couple who had the big royal wedding, with Scott as Xornoth's best man, and officiated by Pearl

Joey also gets the role of the one who's in complete denial of anything demonic going on. Joey cares about two things, his beautiful builds and his beautiful husband, and that's it. Demon? What demon? There's no demon, why would there be a demon? The sudden surplus of cod make good food for the raptors, as such their unusual aggression goes almost entirely unnoticed, piles of slime are buried under dirt to form nice rounded little hills. He can't even see Jimmy during the big arena fight, just Pearl going mad for no apparent reason, like, what's up with her then? (Keep in mind that I have never in my life watched any of Joey's videos, I have not the first clue how to write him)

Who did Pearl build the arena with, by the way? Probably Gem, who starts out being somewhat complacent about the whole demon issue ("Oh I'm sure he's not that dangerous, he's hardly managed to hurt me, and anyways, he's got some very interesting abilities I'd love to study"), but after the big massacre finally realizes it's actually quite serious and also Pearl is clearly not herself and definitely needs help

Random thought, you know how manta rays swim like they're flying through the water? Jimmy flies like he's swimming through the air

Jimmy is short for Jimahinjao, although he doesn't go by that name anymore, and definitely only Scott is allowed to call him Jimmy

Lizzie is short for Lizmoa, which is already one of the shortest merfolk names, but she's always gone by Lizzie, except in situations calling for truly formal adress

I don't know if "something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue" would necessarily apply to a gay wedding, but I kind of want it to in this case because:

I imagine Scott and Xornoth would have similar styles in terms of clothing and accessories, because it's a traditional elven style or because they're unknowingly brothers, who knows. The point here is Joey coming to Scott for 'something borrowed' and Scott going "Ohhh I can make your outfits match, that's gonna be so cute!"

Thus, the four items: an enchanted golden apple found with the help of Joel (because I didn't know what else he could provide), a pendant made of pixandrian copper (paralleling my interpretation of the amethyst Lizzie got from Gem as a necklace), an elven crown borrowed from Scott (matching Xornoth's), and a bouquet of blue orchids from the swamp outside of Mythland (paralleling the fact that in canon, the warped fungus came from the same place as the corruption)

Speaking of the swamp outside of Mythland, it is regarded as a dangerous and possibly haunted place and thus uninhabited (except for Jimmy, who is the reason people think it's haunted)

The crown Scott receives from Jimmy is a flower crown (as a nod to the for this AU rather unfitting official ship name of "Flower Husbands"). It's made from water lilies and has, beyond the mind control, two rather obvious magical properties. One: it doesn't wilt. Two: it's always slightly dripping. Mostly water, sometimes mud, rarely a bit of slime, but it's always dripping something. Scott still wears it anyways

Lizzie and Katherine get kidnapped by Pearl and Scott, and rescued by Joel, prompting that particular romance

As it will eventually turn out, Scott and Xornoth are twins (Xornoth being older by an hour, though there's no real way for them to find it out that exactly)

Xornoth reads in the library about an artifact he's pretty sure is related to the old religion he and Scott are continuing to learn about. The artifact in question is a black iron crown in the shape of a pair of antlers, to be worn by the royal representative of one of the two gods. They resolve to find this artifact.

Meanwhile, Lizzie, in a treasure chest she unearthed, finds what she thinks is probably an interestingly shaped piece of scrap metal. Maybe she can trade it to some fool for something else. Maybe for a channeling trident. She's been wanting one of those. Calling lightning at will sounds amazing.

The Crown™ is still forged by fWhip, and makes the rounds from Joel, who gets killed for it by Lizzie, who, while trying to give it to Shrub, gets it yoinked away by Joey, who gives it away via a treasure hunt which is then won by Xornoth, who gets it stolen by Gem, who creates a quiz for it that's won by fWhip, who gives it to Sausage, who puts on a contest in which Shrub then cheats and kills him to get it

The Ocean Queen gets storm powers that she needs to learn to control, she probably strikes Katherine with lightning by accident and subsequently flees to a deserted island to not hurt anyone else

While Lizzie is gone, fWhip steals the nautilus shell "Jimmy" has been sealed in, prompting her to return when one of her axolotls comes to tell her about it

More notes to possibly come in the future via reblogs

#empires smp #empires s1 #jimmy solidarity #ldshadowlady #scott smajor #joey graceffa #xornoth empires smp #two sons of rivendell au #two sons of rivendell au notes #tsorau #long post

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