#for now though i hope that anyone who does stumble upon this here and is interested in the stories that won these categories has a good time
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oscars 2022 (book ver.)
there were a lot of books i read this year, a majority of them ones i really enjoyed. even so, it wasn’t that difficult to put together my top ten favorite reads, but i felt very uncomfortable with not getting to talk about books outside that range that still affected me a great deal. so!! this list helps me with that!!
a booktuber (@/Tori Morrow; highly recommend watching their videos, especially if you’re a big fan of sci-fi/fantasy since that’s majorly what they read and talk about) introduced me to this end-of-year activity where i could talk about these books that still stood out to me, even if they didn’t make it to the top 10. i think having trouble wrangling a certain # of stories into a list when you’ve read up to 135 is pretty valid but yeah!!
let the 2022 oscars (book ver.) commence!!
warning: this post is really long :’)
best supporting actress:
- martha wolf from “self-made boys” by anna-marie mclemore
“People always find something wrong with how much or how little women are doing,” Martha said. “We don’t do as much as they think we should, we’re boring or frigid. If we do more than they think we should, we’re easy or fast. There’s no winning. So I kiss exactly as many or as few girls as i want.”
aka my gay awakening. while she’s not the most major side character in this great gatsby retelling, she still has her lines, and she still has a big effect on the story that jumps the gun at times. as sparse as her scenes were with nicolás and gatsby, when she did show up, she always threw me for a loop because i was crushing on her hard lol (still am). also her voice added to the overall message of the novel set during a time where living loud & lavish was the big move but if you were too loud or too honest, you were a pariah. all the rules & expectations are so muddled in their idiocy that even gatsby complains about it, and he’s the one who appears to live the most lavishly of them all!!
but yeah, martha’s character really stood out to me, and the conversations she had with nicolás specifically were phenomenal so i don’t care if she’s seen as more minor compared to daisy or jordan, she’s my supporting character.
best supporting actor:
- alim from “you made a fool of death with your beauty” by akwaeki emezi
“Imagine that, Feyi. We’re alive, and I love you.”
alim will forever go down in literary history as one of the best romantic heroes to date, and it’s all just in how sincere and beautiful his presence in this story is. the moment feyi first lays her eyes on him, there’s this immediate attraction, which just stirs up a lot of trouble and believe me, there is a big storm coming for sure. but alim’s presence in this story is like a steady hand through those rocky waves and he doesn’t just make feyi feel that rush of feeling alive, he makes her feel comfortable in just getting to be in the quiet of the storm, because she knows he’ll always be right there with her if she lets him.
the connection that he & feyi have together when it came to both of them experiencing grief over a lost partner is incredibly profound, and i just loved so much how in a story that was solely in feyi’s pov, we still got to learn so much about alim and see so much of him. the way his love language isn’t just cooking the most heavenly meals, but through his incredible way with words, and how natural and peaceful it feels having him by your side, he’s such a force to be reckoned with.
i wish i could see more of him & feyi, and i wish their romance could’ve gotten the attention it deserved by making it to the finals in the 2022 goodreads choice awards. it was a big big snub to me, but hopefully to heal some of the wounds, their story being mentioned on my part here gives some attention.
best cinematography:
- “city of speed” by alex london
Drakopolis was like one of those dolls that you opened to find a smaller doll inside, and then a smaller doll inside that one, and on and on. You could live your whole life in the city and still discover strange and terrifying new things inside it every day. It was unsettling, Abel thought, but also a little exciting. It was hard to be bored in Drakopolis.
my reading journey with the battle dragons series is one that feels so epic, and yet it also feels so lonely, because no one ever really talks about this middle grade series, and that breaks my heart.
this cyperpunk fantasy with racing dragons and powerful gangs and such immersive storytelling isn’t on a lot of people’s radar and that feels so wrong to me.
one of the best things about it, and especially with this second book here, is how vivid this world feels, how bright & gritty & expansive it is. this story only takes place in this single city called Drakopolis, but it has such a wide impact that it feels like you’re seeing so much of what the author has to offer. the underground races that are considered illegal, the glittering signs of the city and the black markets that sell a vast range of items—all of it so descriptive in this book here that i could see it so clearly in my head, and i loved it a lot.
i loved how cinematic the story felt, and so sweet, and so for that, that’s why i feel it best deserves the winning praise for this category here. hopefully in the future, more readers can see that as well.
best original screenplay:
- “dark room etiquette” by robin roe
If he’s alive, I’ll read his thoughts. If he’s dead, I’ll summon his ghost. Tell me, Daniel, what present do you want?
The big one.
this category speaks to a story that was crafted in a way that makes it stand out, its structure manipulated so as to mimic the story itself. for this book, the start of it felt so monotonous and as if the main character was living in a bubble that was fit to burst. it felt very reminscent of jake from “the taking of jake livingston” by ryan douglass, which garnered some mixed reviews because of how flat the main character read at the beginning. both ya, one horror & one thriller—what both roe & douglass did with these stories was they wrote their characters like that on purpose so that when the tone of the story did shift, when the characters were forced to react to what was happening to them and to those around them, you as the reader were confronted with their break in reality.
it was astonishing to witness how the authors crafted these characters’ surroundings as a nod to how it may have felt for both of them living in a society that acts so completely fake at times and demands conformity but then when there’s a shift, it’s as if the walls fall all around them.
“dark room etiquette” was such a phenomenal read that deserves so much more praise for its writing and the character work as we observe the three different stages of sader’s life that changes him fundamentally. the way he molds itself when the situation calls for it and is left misshapen because he doesn’t have any real sense of his own identity was just…something else, and it made the last quarter of the book so meaningful once he learned how to try & fit back inside himself. but first, he has to reckon with all the trauma he’s endured as other characters and their traumas are also given a spotlight.
best new author (debut or new to me):
- freydís moon
“It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.” - “with a vengeance”
for this category, i’m cheating just a tad because one of this author’s works is present in my top 10, but i think when your new favorite authors from this year all have a place in your top 10 list, it goes to show how much they deserve to be considered for this category. the reason why i chose this one as the winner here is because i feel i don’t talk about this author nearly enough.
moon’s social media presence (freydísmoon on insta, freydis_moon on twitter) means the world to me as i watch them promote their writing and also open my eyes to a new genre of literature where erotica meets a holiness like no other, and their descriptions of worship as their characters reclaim their bodies for themselves completely takes your breath away. i feel an immense sentimentality for the fact that the characters of exodus 20:3 and with a vengeance are latine, and so the representation is even more powerful because the latine community have our own kind of relationships to the Catholic faith and how our identities can be disconnected from family.
each of moon’s books have such different tones but share similar threads that as a reader, is so completely beautiful because it’s such a versatile experience. with with a vengeance being the one with the most anger & violence, it’s amazing seeing moon release three kings a couple months after, a cozy fantasy set in a small seaside town that has its own power with the forces of magic and exploration of fertility. their writing is like complete chaos but it’s a welcome one that i’m so thankful to have found, and i’m really excited for their new release set to come in early february as i know it’ll be absolutely everything.
best ensemble cast:
- the characters of “fragile remedy” by maria ingrande mora
Keep going, Pixel. Keep going.
i have a very soft spot for this small group who are forced to live out in the Withers, a ravaged wasteland left abandoned after an illness swept through society and tore these characters down into drug-ridden spaces as those with much more power built their own utopia.
while the narrative of the story is mainly told through the eyes of nate, his little found family and the other characters he attaches himself to are bigger than life and make their own home in this dystopian society where it’s every life for themselves. the difference though, is that this group stick together, and in this broken society that leaves others high & dry, sticking together in a group is probably the smartest choice so as to not simply fade away.
there’s one character, specifically, in this ensemble, whose relationship with nate i absolutely adore, and it was such a heartbreaking dynamic that is so unconventional but is a product of how broken this society has gotten. alden & nate’s connection is very significant to me, and is one i’ll never forget; it pains me that not more readers know about these characters at all, but i’m just glad for now i discovered this story the way i did, which was completely by chance.
best book i haven’t read yet:
- “the midnight girls” by alicia jaskinska
i love this category because the pressure i feel to read this book is so strong with how quickly i knew it deserves this spot here.
i really really have to read this book soon. i had the perfect opportunity to read this story of monsters back in october for the halloween season, and if not then, then just reading it during the fall would’ve been fine. but no, now we’re in winter where currently the temperatures are below freezing in my area, and i am barely holding on. i’m certain that with zosia’s comfort in the cold and ice of winter, reading this book in january would be another good opportunity.
whenever i do read this story, i know it’ll be so fun, and so interesting as well because the writing i could already tell is beautiful as hell, and it’s so wicked these characters. i can already feel the anticipation for something guaranteed to be five stars by how good its premise is, so i just need to hop on quick.
best director:
- ryan la sala for “the honeys”
what i like about this category is that “best director” isn’t simply dedicated to an author who had the best writing or whatever. there were a lot of authors i met this year whose stories went in all different directions that took me to some extreme highs & lows, it was mind-numbing as hell. but what this category is really spoken for is when it comes to a certain type of writer who just really took the story to a whole new level that left you completely boggled.
originally, this category felt best directed towards tal bauer with “stars”, whose direction of the story was books in the making and because of that, it felt so much more epic than ever. but since i wanted to exclusively highlight some books that weren’t included in my top 10 favorite reads list, ryan la sala’s debut horror novel was the best contender for this position.
the writing in this ya is so surreal and deadly in its descriptions of an atmospheric setting glowing with light but that is rooted in strange visions and manipulative strings. it’s a compliment i don’t shut up about and never will because the fact that it was so surreal made the direction it went towards in its ending absolutely bonkers, and i still can’t quite wrap my head around it after the two months i’ve read it since.
what i can say is that i very much look forward to more of what this author has planned next in their writing career because it’s clear they have their own visions that on paper will blow readers’ minds, and i’m totally here for it.
best actress:
- mina rahman from “a show for two” by tashie bhuiyan (runner up: cherry neita from “the princess trap” by talia hibbert)
I wish for happiness in whatever form it might be.
tashie bhuiyan has quickly solidified herself to be one of my utmost favorite ya authors because of how much i absolutely adore her main characters. with only two books under her belt, bhuiyan has swept me away with not just some of the sweetest ya romances i’ve ever read, but also some of the most wonderful & hard-hitting narrators that i’ve met. karina from counting down with you meant so much to me when i was reading her story last year in 2021, and now this year i got to read mina’s, and it made me cry just as much as i did last year, if not a little more.
karina’s story filled me with a lot of anxiety because of how much pressure was building on her shoulders due to her desperate need to please her parents who have such high & unattainable expectations for her—and i say unattainable because it means it would cut away at karina’s happiness, and she would have to lose parts of herself in order to make them happy. for mina, she’s much more defiant with her parents, much more poised when it came to holding her head up high against her parents’ disgust of her attitude and just her presence in general. her defiance isn’t one that stems from acting like your usual stubborn & rebellious teenager, but rather one who’s had to grow up way too fast on her own and has had to fight to get what she wants no matter what. her parents have shamed her so much for her dreams and have tried to make her feel stupid for wanting to make it big in film and believing that she does have that chance. to see such a strong character try to beat back against those low expectations but then have moments where they still get so tired, it was incredibly difficult.
i think one of the hardest things about tashie bhuiyan’s stories up to this point is the very very toxic relationship that the main characters have with their parents. the pure shame & disappointment these adult figures hassle on their eldest daughters, even if it’s portrayed in different ways, it is such a heavy & emotional experience to read about. i’ve been made aware how it’s this portrayal that mixes up a lot of readers because of the stigma that it reinforces of how Muslim families interact. i can’t speak on the Muslim representation, i just really connected a lot to karina & mina, and i wished so much for their happiness because i believed so much in them as other characters believed in them, too—what was most important was seeing them get to believe in themselves and their aspirations, and it was a hard journey to get there. i feel very very protective of these characters, and this is one of those instances where i won’t stand for any backlash against them, especially mina, because i’m of the strong belief that they deserve none of it, and that is that on that.
the reason why i added cherry here from the princess trap as like the “runner up” is because she was just such a fun & sweet character that is partly what made my first talia hibbert book such a memorable experience. the way that she’s so confident in herself and her style is what draws the eye of other characters, especially ruben, and i was absolutely obsessed with how obsessed they were with her because she really is that character. her presence in the story was so mystifying but she wasn’t some mirage, this was all her, she was real & she was stunning as hell. she’s very relatable and she’s one of those fictional characters i wish i could have in my life because her voice was absolutely everything, and she’s someone i could genuinely look up to.
it was very important to me to include her in this category because of that.
best actor:
- amastan from “the perfect assassin” by k.a. doore (runner up: reid giordano from “fire season” by k.d. casey)
I choose to believe that your strong sense of justice will prevail among your kind and that you will emerge as their natural leader, even if I cannot believe in what you do.
the funny thing with this one is that at first, reid was immediately my first choice because he was everything!! he was such a brilliant main character who went through such a tough and honest character journey that was so well-developed and he’s still growing!!
but then i thought about amastan from the chronicles of ghadid series, and how my immense love for his voice in the story was enough for me to rate the first book a little higher than i would’ve if he wasn’t the main character. and you want to know something that still blows my mind?? amastan apparently didn’t even exist as a main character in the original draft of this series!!
so yeah, he’s someone that’s stuck with me a lot: and it’s partly because of how he was our first glimpse into this family of cousins who assassinate their targets for the better of their city. i loved his love for history & the way he challenges the idea of what a good assassin is supposed to emulate, and his character in general just hit a sweet spot in my brain that has now had me latch myself to him, and to this world he lives in that made my entire chronicles of ghadid experience such an immersive read.
he has his morals and he wants to believe in the better of others, but he’s still really strict when it comes to crossing that line, and that makes him an absolutely wonderful mentor, as we see in book two. i was really happy to see his pov again in the final book, even if it was pretty brief, but he still had a larger than life role in my heart and in this series. i am very thrilled that it took a random bookstagram post to have given me the opportunity to meet him in the first place.
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and that is a wrap!!
#❣️#i worked on this for a whole week which really is just absolute bonkers#because why in the hell am i making this much effort on a post for this platform??#at this point i really should break out in making my own book blog or even a book podcast just *something* where#i’ll get to share my love for reading and actually make a big impact#for now though i hope that anyone who does stumble upon this here and is interested in the stories that won these categories has a good time#reading all of it—it was really fun & sort of like a challenge to reimagine these categories as books#when it was originally meant for your on-screen shows & movies#i was really happy to get to talk about these books here and doing this post at all only#made me love these books even more because i found a different way to see their writing and the impact it had on me#so that’s amazing#booklr
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Wonderstruck
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Ex!Reader
Summary: Simon Riley finally takes it upon himself to check up on his childhood best friend and ex lover. He's been torturing himself reminiscing on your relationship and what went wrong for years now. Little does he know... you're in the same boat. Having seen someone today you swore was Simon on your way to work, you too, reflect on the past.
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Stalking(?),
Mentions of: Drinking, Smoking, Motorcycle Riding
A/N: I don't know why but I constantly am getting inspired by certain songs, or am reminded of certain characters, and all the lyrics were just screaming childhood best friends to estranged lovers, right person wrong time Simon Riley. Nevertheless, if you'd love to listen to some versions of the song which inspired me, here we are! Line divider credit: @saradika-graphics and I'd also love to thank @penelopepine for helping me with the ending <3
He knew it was a bad idea as soon as it'd crossed his mind, yet somehow he couldn't rid himself of it time and time again. That's how he found himself here; watching you cross the street, he can't help but notice the vintage band t-shirt you have on, frayed at the edges with the little strings of the hem coming undone that you've refused to cut off. In you hands you clutch a new phone, no doubt an upgrade from the last one he'd seen you with- though it's been a while.
As you mindlessly tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he can't help the way his insides churn. You were always effortlessly beautiful; you never had to try for anything. Even now, the way you can walk across the busy cobblestone side streets of London in high heels without seemingly second-guessing yourself, body language still poised on guard and ready in case anyone tries anything, just like he'd taught you.
It's clear from your outfit and the lipstick you’re donning that you're attempting to sway the officials at work. Maybe trying for that promotion you’d always been talking about, but never had the gumption to make today the day. What’s different about today, he wonders. You'd always been a go-getter, and truthfully, it was something Simon admired about you. Even in the moments where he'd resented it the most, the constant pestering and prodding at him in an attempt to get him to move and drag him out of the holes his dug himself into...
Where would he be now if only he listened?
What if you knew better?
He couldn't deny that the thoughts kept him up at night while he was away. Though, admittedly, more often than not it was the string of random memories that he’d get glimpses of during the day. It’d always be at the worst times, too. Two weeks ago in Berlin he’d been clapping Kyle on the back, hoping he’ll get it together as he stumbled out the pub. While Soap had the camaraderie to slug half his mate’s weight over his broad shoulders, Simon found himself unable to help as his eyes were drawn in by a couple a few paces down the block.
“Bollocks!” He’d shouted out in frustration. Double-checking himself, he didn’t have a spare cap on him, and he knew he sure as hell didn’t bring an umbrella on your little last minute ‘trip’. Not that he’d really call walking down to the local Tesco for snacks late one summer evening a trip. ‘It’ll be an adventure! Just think of it like that.’ You’d persuaded him.
“What? Are you going to melt?” He hears you joke. As his brown eyes land on your face when you turn to meet his gaze, a few steps ahead of him down the road, he can’t help the smile that breaks out across his lips upon your laughter. Sure, you may both be a little drunk after spending the evening in and having a drink or two. But it doesn’t change the way he feels about you, if anything, it makes him even more keenly aware of the way you affect him.
“Maybe. Who knows?” He teases in responses, tugging his jacket up and over his head to shield himself from the cool summer rain. Despite the time, now he’ll most likely need a shower when you get home. As he jogs to catch up and bring you under his little makeshift cocoon, you do the unexpected.
It was you, of course… he should’ve known better, always testing him, pushing him. With a gentle drop of the plastic bag full of snacks upon the side of the road you’d been strolling down, he watches as you run into the empty street. The streetlights illuminate you in a hazy orangey-yellow light as you begin to spin and twirl, dancing in the street.
With a shake of his head, he’s left stunned once again by the vast difference of your personalities. Your jeans and t-shirt are starting to get damp and discolored, and there’s a taunting, displeased remark sitting on his tongue just waiting to be made. It’s the utter joyous smile on your face as you tip your head back and relinquish yourself to your fate that leaves him wonderstruck, he thinks.
“Come on, Simon!” You beckon, finally meeting his gaze once again with that familiar carefree, hopeful look behind your irises. With an outstretched hand, he knows he can’t deny you this… and really, there’s something inside him that tells him he doesn’t want to, either.
“It’s her, innit?” He hears his Captain’s voice call over his shoulder. Pulled from his memories, Simon dismisses Price with a nonchalant grunt. As the old man tries to place a hand on his shoulder he dodges it, realizing he’s been watching the couple for longer than he’d thought. With Soap and Gaz almost to the end of the block, Simon sighs before shrugging his shoulders to right his jacket and head off in their direction for backup.
That was a time when your playfulness been more easily taken and accepted without question. No fighting, no push back, resentments… maybe that was it: he’d stopped going with the flow. He’d stopped accepting the punches and started dodging and weaving your advances at fixing things and picking up where he left you. Because while it’s too late now, he’s finally realized it for what it is: he left you in the dark, he’s the one who pushed you away, closed himself off.
That night he’d curled up in the temporary bed he’d been assigned, more memories continued to consume him. The way you’d effortlessly ease his worries on nights he’d come home stressed, feathers ruffled from whatever petty drama went on during the day. Whether it was something the guys said that stuck with him, or something he couldn’t get out of his mind when he came back from deployment. Your kisses always seemed to be the cure, your love… or maybe it was just… you.
“You know furrowing your brows like that will cause wrinkles,” you inform him, reaching out to run gentle fingers over his bunched skin.
A grunt of acknowledgment leaves his lips. “More for me to worry about, hm?” While it’s all he says, his eyes are searching over your composure.
“No,” it leaves your lips without thought, “just something to think about, be mindful of. If you’re not upset, then why furrow them?” Voice quiet in the moonlit apartment, your fingers smooth out his brows gently as you admire him. “I read something the other day about how it’s possible our body informs our mental state. If you’re tensing all the time, it won’t help your stress, Si.”
He simply hums in response, doing nothing to stop you as you ghost your lips over his for a moment before planting a loving chaste kiss to his. While big and wide warm hands find the exposed bit of skin between the hem of your sleeping pants and the shirt you wear, it’s the unexpected cool sensation that elicits a muffled gasp. Your much smaller hands are sneaking up underneath his sweatshirt to explore his abdomen, caressing him like he were made of soft silk. Your lips meet again for a chaste kiss.
Then it’s turning into something more; you have to take it slow, your lips dancing against one another, his hand rubbing your back to let you know it’s alright. As you begin to run out of breath, it’s only when you pull away, lashes fluttering against his skin that you ask him. “You know I’d love you even with wrinkles, right?”
Taken aback, he can’t help but stare. Unsure how to respond or what to do, his lips part in search of words. “Is that so?” He finally questions, hand giving your side a soft squeeze.
“My favorite boy… I love you to the moon and back… scars and all. I always have, and I always will, Simon,” you whisper, ghosting his lips again before planting one on him, “I just hope you know that.”
And at the time, he swore he did. It’s odd, really, and he wouldn’t lie to himself about it either. Simon tried dating after you, he tried hooking up, he tried it all… but it never felt right. As many times as he replays the memory, he can never get past the feeling of home. With you, it felt like home. You never made him feel expendable, or worry of the abandonment he knew would inevitably come.
For years afterward he blamed you, he saw it as your fault that you left, you abandoned him… when, maybe, really it’s finally time he admits it was him. He made it a self-fulfilling prophecy, and there was nothing you could do.
It's on your way home from work that you see them; while waiting for the bus, there's a playground in the park a few meters away. Really, the idea that human nature is predictable is always laughable at first, but only after watching people and stepping back to become an observer you've noticed from time to time that... it's more than true. Even from a distance, the children in the park look happy... but that's not what catches your eye. There's a blonde boy, and a girl, much like yourself when you were younger, playing what you can only assume is something halfway between hide and seek and tag, considering the playground offers more space and obstacles than hiding spots.
Perhaps it's the joyous looks on their little faces, or the way they unabashedly play, carefree and unaware of the adult worries and burdens the world hangs above their heads, just waiting any day to drop upon their shoulders unexpectedly. However, you can't help but reminisce on the ways you'd spent your childhood playing games much like the one the children are playing in the distance with a boy, very similar to the one before you, loving life, content, happy, simply aspiring to be the best at finding your ultimate hiding spot.
The soft squeak of the wheels coming to a halt before you and the mechanical release of air as the doors open brings your attention back to the present. Before you know it, you're on the bus, unconsciously taking a seat along the windows, hoping, just maybe you'll catch a glimpse of them as the bus drives down the road down its route. Though as you pass, the sun is beginning to set in the distance, the children departing the playground their separate ways as dusk begins to take its toll and curfew sets in place. The whole time you'd been focused on yourself, it's entirely possible that your own boy wound up beating you at your own game, finding the best spot and hiding himself away from the rest of the world.
Maybe it's the fact that you could've sworn you'd seen someone that looked almost identical to Simon on your way to work this morning, but memories continue to plague your mind for the first time in months. All the weekends he'd spent over at your house doing aimlessly silly things to fill your time, from science projects, to playing 'warrior' outside, you never felt more alive than the time you two spent together.
"I'll keep ya safe, yeah? Nothin' to worry about," Simon insists, gently guiding you to the side of the vehicle. Despite going out with your friends to the city for dinner, you both were sober. It should be fine, it would be. You'd been with him a million times... how different could it be? He'd run it by you as many times as you'd asked.
You swear it's not a good idea, but you trust him to the ends of the Earth. With a look over your shoulder, his brown eyes are steady, not uncertain in his unwavering gaze as he nods in assurance. Swinging a leg over the seat, you're in front this time. Helmets in place, hands on the clutch and brakes, you make eye contact with Simon once more before he flicks both your visors down. "Ready?" You ask him.
"More than ready, Love," he quips. With a quick shove to the kickstand, balance (with Simon's help of course), and a rev of the engine, you start the motorcycle off slowly. Gloved hands around your waist, he gives you a gentle squeeze.
He was always pushing you out of your comfort zone, that one. It was the first time you'd driven his motorcycle, and while it'd been scary and daunting for the first fifteen minutes, you eventually got used to it and it blossomed into something freeing. You understood then why he likes it, and you'd never been more grateful for someone pushing you out of your bubble. While flashes of all the kisses, caresses, and intimate moments between the two of you start to effervesce, you force yourself to remember the last time you'd seen him.
With a lingering hug, you're hesitant to let him go. Even if you know it's necessary, it's still hard... it always has been. "You'll let me know when you get in, right?" You ask, searching his eyes. They stand out from the black warpaint, his uniform always made him look handsome, even if you couldn't imagine how intimidating seeing his actual attire would be in his enemies position.
A dismissive and irritated grunt meets your ears as he shrugs your hands off. He'd packed quickly, something he's been doing more recently; taking more and more jobs, you've begun worrying for his health, not that he'd talk about it, of course. "If I 'ave time."
While you weren't able to get all the details on this excursion, you did manage to get that it was essentially a 'clean-up' for him. He had to go in and make sure that the hostages they'd had a lead on were all rescued and no one was left behind, no assailants or informants lingering or hiding. You've known that his job is hard on him. Losing people can't be easy, especially when you feel like you could've done things differently and changed the ending to their stories. Yet, you also know that throwing yourself into work the way he's been doing without talking to anyone, simply managing to pass debrief counseling by whatever meter their measuring is... not working. Not anymore, at least.
"You're running from this! You won't even answ-" you shout, gesticulating as you do everything in your power to keep the anger and worry that's tightly wound wrapped up in your gut under control, not to let anymore of it seep out than already has.
"An' you're one to talk?! You don't get to interrogate me," he argues, rounding the couch to get closer. The dark circles under his eyes scream volumes, even if he's unwilling to acknowledge whatever's going on for him. "I deal with that enough in my line o' work. Don't-"
"Simon," you say, tone holding that familiar warning tone.
You'd gotten home safely and were able to change and make something to eat. The feelings haven't left the cavity of your chest, still lingering there, the way he always does. He may be 'Ghost' on the field, yet he still haunts your memories, always making you question whether or not you did the right thing. What if only you'd done more? What if you hadn't pushed him so much? It wasn't always in a bad way, either, in fact, most of the time you'd find yourself chuckling randomly at some inside joke only the two of you share, or something he'd find funny. The stolen sweaters and hoodies you know for a fact long ago washed away his scent. Even if you swear sometimes that you can smell the faint odor of cigarettes he used to smoke. In the city when you're out with the girls you'd find yourself fondly inhaling the smell whenever a stranger would be smoking one nearby.
You'd cursed him: Simon Riley. Yet, the aching inside you he left often made you feel like he there's some sense of closure he never fully gave you. The SAS would tell you that he'd get your letters, even if you stopped writing years ago a little while after the split. You never got a response, and you never really expected one. Simon never really was one for letter writing. It was the only way you felt like you could get that closure, that part of your life done with. Ultimately, it did help you move on in some way.
A sigh tumbles past your lips as you change the channel on the television, unsure what you really feel like watching. A reality comedy show is on, something of a local prank show. It wasn't the best show, really, but it's one you used to watch a lot as a kid, and thus, another reminder of him. This one makes you smile, nonetheless. It's a good memory; nostalgia envelopes you in the way that makes you crave times that felt easier. Just when you wrap yourself in your fuzzy blanket, there's a soft rapt at the door.
Heart accelerating, eyes widening slightly, you slowly rise from the couch. The television volume isn't on loud, and while there may be light coming from it to inform a stranger you're home, that isn't enough to say that you're alone. With slow and cautious steps, you approach the door, careful to check the window near the door from a vantage point you're unseen. It's a man in a black hoodie. Panic sets in and you turn to skillfully head back toward the couch in search of your phone with quiet and quick steps. That's when it strikes you.
With all pretenses abandoned, you rush to the door and fling it open, lips parted in shock and awe. "Simon?" Searching and attempting to scan the partially shielded face, you're able to see tufts of blonde hair lit from the porch light.
"I know you've no reason to-" he starts, hands removing themselves from his hoodie's pocket, "but please let me come in and explain."
"You came back," you whisper. It's more for yourself than him, and whether it's out of bewilderment, intuitive knowing, or a premonition; you were right.
As he takes a step forward and reaches out for you with shaky hands produced from the familiar black pocket of his hoodie, you don't retract. Slow and tentative movements on both ends, he grabs ahold of one hand, thumb consciously skirting back and forth repeatedly in a form of grounding and seeking comfort. "You were right," his deep voice rasps.
Your hand cautiously seeks his cheek beneath the shield of his hood. Fully expecting to meet the spandex material of his balaclava, you're surprised by the warmth of his skin underneath your gentle touch. Wrist pushing against the cotton hood, it gives way, revealing his face. Searching his deep brown eyes for any sign he's genuine... you're met with truth.
With a weak nod you turn, leaving the door to shut softly behind the two of you.
~~~~~~~
forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo
#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#my writing#song fic#taylor swift#cardigan#simon riley x reader angst#angst#angst with a happy ending#simon ghost riley x ex!reader#simon riley x ex!reader#simon riley x cbf!reader#simon ghost riley x cbf!reader#biker!simon riley#song fics
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Could you possibly do Ghost or König falling head over heels in a bar over fem! reader, but upon actually going to talk her they find she's mostly mute, signing and such. Though eager to try and converse with this tall masked man who sits at her booth, all pretty smiles and leaning in to listen.
Hello and thank you for requesting!!! This was a super cute senario!! I already wrote a selectively mute reader imagine, but this one is going to be slightly different!
Guys, I'm so sorry for being behind this week! I think I know what I want to do for 1K, but I think I'm going to finish with requests first! Again, sorry for ending my daily posts but hopefully this will cause more high quality work!
First and foremost, I am a Roach-Ghost bestie stan. Someone help me with writing accents!!! ::>_<::
This work is not beta read!!!
→ COD Masterlist
|| Ghost + König With a Mute S/O ||
Tags: Protective Ghost, Meet-Cute, Exchanging of Numbers, Soft Ghost, Bashfulness, Mute!Reader, Ghost knows Sign Language, Possible OOC Ghost (but I try to remain as faithful as possible), Nervous König, Awkward Flirting, Maybe OOC König,
Warnings: Pushy Guys, Alcohol mentions,
Female!Reader // Romantic
|| Ghost
Ghost very seldom finds people attractive. What even rarer is that he acts on said attraction. He doesn't want to doom anyone to be attached to him, a phantom that death clings to like an ill-fitting coat.
This evening wasn't unlike all the others that happened after a particularly taxing mission. They bar wasn't particularly crowded or nice, filled with stale air and some distant rock music playing over crackly speakers. The others seem content in their conversation, sipping their drinks and laughing as they unwind. Ghost was sat, mask pulled up slightly as he took the last sip from his class of bourbon.
While he does his scan of the room, something catches his eye. Or, rather, someone.
He sees you, sitting off in one of the booths. He finds himself wondering how such a pretty young women is alone in a place like this. Ghost finds himself unable to take his eyes off of you and maybe that's a good thing because he's watching when a (clearly intoxicated) man stumbles over to the booth.
For a moment, Ghost is sure this must be the man you came with and starts to turn away. However, he manages to catch your uncomfortable expression as you try to turn the man away with some hand gestures, to no avail.
With a gruff, "be right back," that is majorly ignored by his companions, Ghost pushes away from the bar and stalks closer to the booth. As he gets closer, he starts to hear what the man is saying and finds himself more disgusted. He is shocked you haven't cursed the man out and slapped him across the face for your trouble.
He clamps one of his hands down onto the (much smaller) man's shoulder, immediately causing him to freeze and glance over his shoulder. "Get lost," Ghost's dark tone reaches even this drunkards rationality causing him to scoff and stumble off.
Upon his departure, Ghost looks back at you who has now begun staring wide eyed at him. He clears his throat, gesturing to the empty booth across from you, "This seat taken?"
You shake your head, gesturing outward to the seat as if to say, "be my guest."
Ghost nods, slumping down into the seat and trying not to make it obvious he was avoiding eye-contact, "I hope that wasn't presumptuous of me. You must've came here with someon'. 'm... Simon. By the way."
You smile, still staring openly at him before shaking your head, signing something with your hands.
Ghost freezes for a moment. He didn't expect this sudden hiccup. He is, for once, thankful for being friends with Roach which led him to learning some sign in order to communicate with him more efficiently.
"'m sorry, love, I didn't catch that," the term slips out before he can stop it, "I know some sign, but can you go a bit slower?"
You look at him in shock for a moment that he can understand before slowing down and signing, "I'm here alone." and tacking on a sign-spelling of your name. You take special care to slow down, carefully signing each word to make sure he catches it. You ask him what he's doing here.
"I think I should be askin' you that. This isn't really the place for pretty ladies," he takes a secret pride in the blush that spreads across your cheeks, "I'm here with some friends."
You glance towards the bar where the other members of 141 have started to calm down a bit before signing, "I was supposed to be meeting someone here. Looks like I've been stood up, though."
Ghost scoffs, "If he wanted to meet you in this place, he ain't worth your worries."
Your smile twitches, "Your probably right. It's not turning out all bad though"
This causes a small, amused scoff to come from his mouth, "I'm glad I can entertain."
Before he could say anything further, a slightly tipsy Soap calls from across the bar, "Ghost! You comin'?" The others have begun paying their tabs and collecting their jackets. Ghost makes a mental note to smack him upside the head for interrupting, nonetheless.
He sighs, "Duty calls." Ghost reluctantly slides, from the booth. "You should get outta' here too. Need someone to take you home?"
You smile and shake your head, "No. I could settle for your number, though."
Ghost's lips twitch into an almost-smile before he holds out his hand for your phone, "That can be arranged."
He looks so baby girl here
|| König
It wasn't often König found himself going out to bars with his colleagues. Mostly because he found himself getting nervous in crowded places and because it wasn't really acceptable to wear a sniperhood in public spaces.
But, with some urging from his recently-acquired friend Horangi, he found himself reluctantly agreeing. Instead of his normal hood, he put on a simple, black surgical mask to try and help with his anxiety. At least this bar wasn't anywhere near crowded.
He still felt incredibly awkward sitting hunched over in the too-small bar stool. The others seemed to be having a good time at least, all of them caught up in some sports game playing on the tv above the bar. König quickly took a sip of his drink, scanning across the room before his eyes landed on you, sitting quietly off to the side with a group of friends. He pauses, stunned by your smile for a moment before he turns away quickly. Despite his blush being mostly covered by his mask, Horangi notices somehow. "You should send her a drink." If his eyes weren't covered by sunglasses, he was sure the statement would have been accompanied by a wink.
König gulped, "I couldn't..."
Horangi landed a friendly pat on the bigger man's shoulder, "Sure you could. What's the worst that could happen?"
König can think of quite a few things that can go wrong. But even then, he can't get your smile out of his head. He slowly lifts his hand, calling the bartender over before asking for some pleasant, fruity drink to be sent to your table. To you.
When the waiter came to collect the drink to bring to the table, König made a point not to look in your direction. He could already feel the hot waves of embarrassment wash down his back. He briefly thought about bolting from the bar before he realized it was too late, glancing over his shoulder as you scan the bar. Your eyes meet for a moment before König quickly turns away.
He expects nothing to come from it, that you would just laugh about the occurrence with your friends before going about the rest of your night. He figures he's wrong when he hears light footsteps approaching him from behind. You set the drink that he sat you down before sliding into the bar stool next to him. König glaces up nervously.
"I'm sorry..." König can't keep the apology from coming out. You frown slightly and shake your head, signing something with your hands. König pauses, clenching and unclenching his fist around his glass, "Oh... I don't know that much English sign..."
You nod sympathetically, thinking for a moment before gesturing to yourself before slowly fingerspelling your name. König watches intently before nodding slowly, "My friends call me König." At you curious look he laughs softly, "It means King in German. It's a... long story." He didn't really want to get into why he got his callsign.
You smile, slowly signing something along the line of "thank you" before gesturing towards the drink.
König nods, resisting the urge to sheepishly rub at the back of his neck, "Your welcome... I didn't know if you would like it or not."
In response, you smile and take a sip of the drink.
He finds himself laughing softly, turning more openly towards you before saying, "I'm glad. I'm sorry for taking you away from your friends. Your just... Really pretty."
You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You start to slowly sign something else but your friends call out to you. You both turn, seeing your friends had begun to collect their things. This causes you to frown slightly, which König can't help but find unreasonably cute, before you turn an apologetic look back to König. He waves his hands dismissivly, "No, no, I-It's alright! Go and join your friends."
You take the last sip of the drink he sent you before pulling the napkin you had been using as a coaster from beneath it. You reach across the bar and grab a nearby pen, quickly squibbling down your number onto the napkin before presenting it to König. He takes it carefully, staring astonished before shrinking into himself, trying to hide a rising blush, "Danke..."
You smile before winking back at him, moving towards the bartender to pay your tab before throwing one last look at König that says, "You better text me!"
König nods, carefully folding the napkin and sticking it into his pocket before letting out a deep sigh. He can't help the small smile the comes to his face when he thinks about talking to you again.
Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!
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#ghost imagine#ghost x reader#cod mw2 ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost mw2#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#ghost call of duty#ghost headcanons#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley#konig mw2#konig modern warfare#konig cod#konig call of duty#konig x reader#konig x y/n#modern warfare 2#cod modern warfare#mw2#cod mw2 imagine#cod mw22#cod mw2 x reader#cod x reader#cod mw2#cod headcanons#cod imagine#call of duty modern warfare 2
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I’m hoping that as Nocturne continues, that there might be some eventual parallels between Alucard and Richter.
I’ve mentioned in another post I don’t really like Richter. I’m not going to reiterate the entire thing, but the long and short of it is I found his character unnecessarily mean-spirited. Some of his dialogue really rubbed me the wrong way and I didn’t find his lines all that funny. But it’s this specific line to Tera that sealed the deal with me disliking him.
“And you just happened to stumble upon it one day while you were out picking flowers?”
Um, what the fuck? She raised you, gave you a safe place to grow up, has been a surrogate mother to you, and has shown you nothing but kindness and support, and you’re going to talk to her like that? What an asshole.
And this is the difference between Richter and Trevor’s characters. Trevor is an asshole, but did he ever talk to Sypha or her grandfather this way? No. Did he talk to Alucard this way? Well…yeah, but also observe Alucard also woke up snarky and began insulting him from minute one, so we can argue they are delightfully matching each other’s energy with a vengeance.
But I’m not gonna lie…for the first two seasons, I also didn’t like Alucard’s character all that much and for the same reasons. I’m a little biased as I generally don't like protagonists who are just mean for no reason. We all know someone like that in real life, whether they’re a relative or a co-worker or a boss, so why deal with it in fiction? Okay yeah, I get that it’s often part of a character arc and symbolism for growth and finding maturity. I understand why storylines like this are necessary, but I’m still gonna hate the little shits for the duration they’re assholes.
So Alucard…the way he treats Trevor in the first two seasons is also pretty crappy behavior.
“I imagine one sacrifices a chicken, and divines the location of the book you want from the intestines. Maybe Belmont has a crystal ball in here you could ask. …. Your ancestors were apparently mentally ill hoarders. I fully expect to find family cats mummified under some of these shelves. Unless your family preferred to eat them.”
You’re gonna talk to your comrade like that…in his own home…where his entire family was brutally slaughtered by a mob....possibly right in front of him? Yeah, real charming, Alucard. And this is the tone for his character in the beginning. There is the point where Sypha calls him out and tells him to stop testing Trevor, but I think there’s another element at play. “…and he’s a drunk and he’s self-destructive and anyone trying to hold on to him may as well be dragged down with him.” He isn’t just testing him, he’s judging him and he’s already decided he’s a useless drunk who got lucky and happened to win a few fights.
All right, now that I’ve dragged him through the mud, I’m going to pull back and assess the wider perspective of Alucard’s full character arc. Alucard’s growth follows the line of the spoiled brat who experienced hardship and had to grow up because of it. I think Alucard lived a very sheltered life before his mother died, and his actions and dialogue in the Belmont Hold are the strongest indicator to this. We clearly see he’s disgusted by the trophies and the history of murder against the vampires, and he is not shy about voicing his contempt towards the family’s entire purpose. He’s right, though. With the presence of the infant skull in the display case, we do get the very subtle nod that the Belmonts, for all their claims of virtue and protecting humanity, have also committed atrocities. He does have a right to his anger against Trevor and his family.
But what’s absent from Alucard’s character here is the fact he doesn’t seem to consider the atrocities the vampires have committed against his mother’s people. To the vampires, humans are food, livestock, and a lesser species. Godbrand brutally murders several humans in his flashback with no clear intent on actually eating them, so he kills for sport. Cho torments the humans in her court by amusing herself with duels to the death that only she can win. Not a humane way to treat the vampire equivalent of livestock. And exactly how long does Erzsebet Báthory keep those girls chained up while she drains them of blood?
Why does Alucard condone what the vampires do to humans and at the same time condemns the Belmonts for hunting the vampires?
The answer: I don’t think he did because I don’t think he was fully aware of these scenarios. Think about it, he had no knowledge of Dracula’s Generals and the only thing he talked about regarding his father was the tragedy of his madness and how killing him would be destroying centuries of knowledge. I think Dracula wanted him to have a peaceful life and fed him the more rosy-colored version of their history. Maybe he intended to tell him one day, and that day kept being put off by the sentiment, “He’s a boy. Let him continue to be a boy.”
Alucard lives his peaceful childhood until it comes to a screeching halt when Lisa is killed, so I honestly think there is an innocence behind his upbringing that gave him a very clear bias against the Belmonts that was completely justified in some elements and not so much in others. There’s also the point that he keeps referencing Trevor as a drunk, which is very much condescension. It’s not until Season 3, after he’s experienced his traumas and has fallen into his own slump of grief that his attitude towards Trevor changes. There’s still ribbing between the pair, but it’s not the same cutting remarks that we saw back in Season 2. Alucard walked a mile in Trevor’s shoes, and that mile was bitter.
...
So where I stand with Nocturne: Richter has started off in a way similar to Alucard. He lost his mother at a young age, but aside from that, he grew up safe and loved in a stable home, has a good relationship with Tera and Maria, and has otherwise led a relatively peaceful life. Even in the midst of the French Revolution, they don't seem like suffering peasants. Like Alucard before his world truly went to hell, Richter also didn’t have a full concept of what real hardship looks like. This is apparent when he’s all confidence and bravado, going around and yelling he’s the ‘last of the Belmonts’ and he ‘kills vampires’ and “Who’s next?” And then Olrox shows up and he cows him right back into the scared, little boy he’s pretending he’s not.
And so not only is there a parallel between Richter and Alucard, but there is also a big one between Trevor and Annette. Both of them have suffered through their own individual hardships, both losing their loved ones in some of the most brutal ways imaginable, but those same hardships gave them their pride and their poignant maturity and cynicism in how they see the world. Granted, the difference between Trevor and Annette is she never lost her purpose or her will to fight despite having been dealt the worse lot of having been born a slave, but still…Trevor never ran away from his nightmares like Richter did. Even though Annette and Trevor have their moments when they are scared, both of them stood up and said, “Fuck it, I have a bastard to kill and if I die killing them, so be it.” They don’t give an absolute damn. They took their pain and they wore it like armor.
“Killing you was the point. Living was a luxury.”
“If I let my past terrify me, I’d never be free of it.”
…
Compared to them, Richter is a spoiled brat who has yet to grow up.
And I think Alucard’s going to be right there with him saying, “Don’t worry. I was like you once and we’ll get there together.”
#castlevania#richter belmont#alucard tepes#trevor belmont#annette#castlevania netflix#castlevania nocturne#parallels#character analysis#character development
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The Subtleties of the Force - Part two
You are from this world, but at a convetion you stumble into the world between worlds, eventually falling into the Star Wars galaxy. Slow burn Anakinxreader content due to reader trying to keep the timeline straight.This is a long one, as I had put all chapters below so strap in. Begins at the start of AOTCFem reader, I hope you enjoy.
Part one here
To read chapterly updatesclick here
It had been three years since you had been stabbed by Count Dooku and in those years you had watched the galaxy change. Though you had managed to recall at least some of the major events, helping to bring down several separatists along the way. Upon the council’s wishes Obi-Wan had taken you on as a student, though you refused the title Padawan or joining the Jedi order they had agreed it was in your best interest to learn how to wield the power you had. You had also convinced the council that some of their rules had become all but obsolete. Explaining to them that love was not a thing that should be shunned, but utilised.
Ki-Adi Mundi had to agree with you, his marriages had proven not only fruitful to his species but to his own mental health. It helped that almost all of the children exhibited force sensitivity. To this the council agreed and love was now part of the code. Giving Anakin the chance to live with his wife in the open.
Your relationship with Anakin had dwindled, attempting to keep your own heart protected you had kept yourself away from him, only interacting if your missions involved each other. Every time you saw him, he would try to speak to you, catch you alone in some way but each time you would silently turn away from him. It stung his pride of course it did, but it was necessary.
You had kept him away from the Chancellor at least. Having him promise that any thoughts or fears he might have he would go to Yoda with. How could he refuse you?
Turning around from your place at the dining table you see Shaak Ti walking toward you.
“Your information is invaluable y/n. We have managed to finally remove the inhibitor chips from every clone and stopped the production of them. The council owes you a great debt.”
You smiled and thanked the Master Jedi for her words. There is a commotion behind her and you both move to look at what was happening. Anakin and Ahsoka stood with a crowd around them, each Jedi cheering them for their great feats. You rolled your eyes.
“Excuse me, Shakk Ti, I am needed elsewhere.” You excuse yourself and head for the door on the opposite side of the room, heading out to the hallway. Your whole body wants to run to your friend and wrap your arms around him, you had missed the opportunity to get to know Ahsoka in order to stay away from him. Though you had ensured she would not get the blame for the explosion when it happened. Your mind was so focused on your memories that you walked straight into Mace Windu and Obi-Wan.
“Ah, excellent, we were just looking for you. Will you come with us?” You nod to the two older men and follow them along the hall.
“What happens if we send them?” Mace asks. You aren’t sure if you should say, your eyes glance up at Obi-Wan who nods.
“We have intelligence that the Chancellor has been taken hostage by Count Dooku and General Grievous on a starship.” you halt at Windu’s words.
“No. Do not do it. Don’t send anyone, especially not Anakin. This is it, this is where it begins.” your words are quiet but it makes both men turn to look at you.
"I don't think we need to. It is time, I think, for me to tell you all what is happening. Could you call the council?" You ask them. Obi-Wan nods, placing his hand on your shoulder.
“In the story you send Obi-Wan and Anakin with a squadron. They take the ship, there are some casualties. Obi-Wan is knocked unconscious and Anakin…Dooku’s death is the beginning of the end for him. It could be different now, the Chancellor does not hold the same power over him as he did before. I just don’t think we should risk. Please send someone else.” you all but beg them at the end.
“You and I then, my young one.” Obi smiles at you. The confidence he has in you is possibly misplaced.
"Alright dear one. I will call for you when we are ready." You nod to your Master and quietly watch them walk away.
"You've been avoiding me again." Anakin's voice appears in your ear and you turn to see his face close to yours.
"No, I have been busy. There is a war on, if you haven't forgotten." There is an attempt to be funny and deflect his accusation.
"Please don't push me away. I've done everything you asked of me. All these years." It's the same plea each time he catches you.
"Master Skywalker, I heard of your promotion, I should have congratulated you earlier." You try to change the subject.
"Thank you. Can I, can I see you? Properly see you. I have so much to tell you."
"You should see your wife, she will.no doubt have some news for you."
He scoffed at your words.
"She has hardly spoken to me in the last year. Too busy with her many male visitors to worry about me."
"What do you mean?" You ask, dropping your disinterest.
"She has affairs, I don't blame her. I am not a husband that she can rely on. I tried, I really tried it, for you I tried but I couldn't do it, so I've taken every mission I could to stay away from her because…because I dream about you. I know you've grown close with Obi-Wan and I understand if you…if you love him."
Your hand resting on his forearm stops his words.
"Anakin, I'm so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing. You were supposed to have children with her-"
"Well I haven't and it is has been nothing but torture. Every single day I question why you made me do this and you never give me answers as to why."
You take a step back from him.
"Anakin, you don't understand-"
"I do! It's me isn't it? The Great evil you are here to stop. I know it, from that day after Geonosis, the way you looked at me." He didn't approach you, but took his own step backward and slumped against the wall.
"I'm sorry, Anakin." In truth your heart was breaking. You had wanted to tell him everything you had seen and known but he had gone before you had a chance.
"I should've told you a long time ago. In the stories you fall to the darkside, seduced by the dreams you have of Padme's death. The ch, Darth Sidious uses your insecurities to warp your mind."
"The chancellor? That's why you didn't want me to see him? I've had no dreams of Padme's death." Anakin admitted.
"Maybe-"
"Only yours." His words cut through you.
"Mine? What do you see?" You ask.
Anakin takes in a long deep breath, his hand finding yours when he finally stands back to his full height.
"I see you, standing in front of a hooded man, then you are on the floor, bloody and crying. I can't get to you in time and before you. It's like when you first came here and you kept phasing out, but you don't come back." A single tear drops down his face.
You have no response that sounds remotely right so you simply stand there, holding his hand.
"I wish we could go back to then, when you first came here." Anakin spoke softly.
"So do I." You whisper back to him.
"Y/n?" Obi-Wan's voice called out to you through your mind.
"The council is ready for us, come on." You say to Anakin turning on your heel and all but marching through the halls. Over the years you had prided yourself on learning the layout of the temple, at least enough to always get you to your dormitory and the council chambers. The large doors still held as much fear as they did that first day. Your chest beat in your ears as you approached. Obi-Wan stepped out to you, taking your hands.
"You'll be okay, dear one. Just remember to breathe through it." Your eyes are held by his and the two of you appear to communicate through your minds. When you feel your thoughts clear enough to be coherent you nod to him and make your way inside.
"I have brought Master Skywalker with me, as he has a right to know all of this as well." You begin, "I'll jump straight to the chase. The eminent threat is the Chancellor. He is not who he has been pretending to be, rather he is the Sith Lord Darth Sidious. Apprentice to Darth Plagueis. He was planning order 66, which luckily should now be basically undoable with the inhibitor chips removed from the clones. Unfortunately he still has the droid army and the separatists on his side, not to mention the backing of almost the whole senate. There is evidence that we can get, including plans for a super ship that can destroy worlds called the death star." You stop thinking about what else you needed to say…"um there is a lightsaber in a statue in his office. He is strong though, and has force lightning." Your chest was starting to get right. "I don't…I can't, things are starting to get foggy. It's been a long time since I, um. He was going to turn Anakin, use the distrust you each had for him and his for you, cultivate it, but we changed that. Darth, Darth Maul is still alive, I don't-" you hold your hand to head. Somewhere behind you Anakin's voice echoes into your ears. Your body flickers. Visions of another world flash in front of you. No, not another world, your world, your real home. Where are you though? Not your apartment. A street, not a real street, a film set.
"Y/n?" Anakin places his hand on your shoulder and you're back in the council chambers.
"Anakin, I can't, I need…Obi-Wan." Your friend rises from his seat taking hold of your shoulders as you fall backward into him.
"What is happening, Master Kenobi?" Kit Fisto asked.
"I don't know." Obi-Wan answered, holding onto you.
Pain severed through your mind, making you grasp at your head. The Emperor's face lit up in front of you as he laughed. Count Dooku dead before him with Anakin standing beside him.
"He's in my head." You call out. One hand clutching to Obi-Wan as the other reaches out for Anakin. "Anakin, please. Stay away from the chancellor, don't go to him, don't let him-" you scream again and you feel memories being plucked from your mind. "Obi-Wan keep him safe, no matter what happens. You have to promise me, both of you!" You're crying but the tears are not water. Dark red stains your face. "In my room, my phone, it has more details. I wrote it all down before it died. Anakin, you're brilliant, you can make a way to charge the battery and get the information. Please I think
I'm losing it all." Bile rises up.in your throat and you can hear the cackling laugh of Palpatine inside your head. The Council had all stood, gathering around you as they watched your eyes slowly close. Your body cradled in Obi-Wan's lap.
"No, y/n don't go. We can't lose you." Obi-Wan openly wept as you slipped away.
************
Anakin smacked his hands against the wall as frustration overtook him once more.
"What is taking them so long?" He growled.
"It cannot be easy to convince an entire galaxy that the person they put in charge to keep them safe is the actual threat they were fearing." Shaak Ti reminded him.
"They've been in there for five hours." Anakin stated.
"Skywalker, you need to calm down, or leave."
He huffed at her before sitting on one of the cold benches.
Heavy footsteps walked up the hallway into his line of vision. A dishevelled Obi-Wan sat down beside his once Padawan.
"Anything?' He asked. Shaak Ti shook her head.
"Y/n?' Anakin asked, hopeful.
Obi-Wan shook his head.
"The healers will not allow me in. I have no news on her."
"They cannot allow her to die." Anakin said to no one in particular.
A door opens close by, Yoda walking out with his walking stick.
"Go we must, our way it is not going." He announced. "The time of the Jedi, over it is, for now." All three Jedi stood and followed Yoda out of the senatorial building.
"Into hiding we must go. To Anch-To we shall go. Gather everyone we must. Y/n you shall bring Kenobi."
"My wife?" Anakin asks.
"Sided with the senator she has. Behind she must stay." They all rush to the temple, where after a message was sent by Yoda on the way everyone was already making quick work of emptying the halls. Both Anakin and Obi-Wan ran to the halls of healing, where you had been placed into a Bacta tank in preparation to be moved. The healers acknowledge their arrival and work around them.
"Masters?" Ahsoka appeared behind them. "I stayed with her like you asked, Master Kenobi." She stated. Anakin rubbed her shoulder.
"You have done very well, young one. Are you ready to leave?" He asks gently.
"Yes Master."
Another woman steps up to them, introducing herself as Hani your personal healer for the trip.
"Come, we have transport this way." She gestures to a door in the back and the two men push the tank you are in. The hallways have been darkened and it is hard for them to see where they are going. Nervous energy building around them until they arrived at a hanger. Two garrisons of clone troopers with both Rex and Cody were waiting alongside Plo Koon.
"Come, we have little time before the droids arrive." Plo announced ushering everyone inside.
"What is happening?" Ahsoka asked as her hands shook.
"The senate have declared us war criminals and blame us for everything that is happening. We must all disappear for our own safety." Plo explained.
"What about the safety of the galaxy?" She squeaked.
"They will have to wait." He replied flatly and ended the conversation.
Obi-Wan is attaching your bacta tank to the walls in the communal area of the transport ship. Anakin watches him press his hand to the tank.
"Do you, are the two of you-?" He can't say the words but Obi-Wan understands him.
"Besides you y/n is the closest thing I have to family. I love her very dearly, but no, Anakin there is nothing between us. Perhaps once we may have come close, a wayward thought of mine. Her feelings have never wavered. She is yours, heart and soul." Obi hoped his words would sooth his friend. Anakin walked up to the tank, looking into your silent face, a mask covering your mouth and nose.
"I've missed her so much. Isn't it strange she's only been with us for three years?" Anakin said over his shoulder.
"It feels like a lifetime ago." Obi agreed.
Anakin stayed looking at you for many hours until Ahsoka finally persuaded him to get some sleep. The healer stood before you, a glint of a smile on her face.
"Well, looks like you were wrong and you won't save them. You've just brought their fate quicker." Pressing a few buttons on the panel she walked away, leaving you. Your body twitched in pain, writhing and wriggling against the liquid.
****************
Seventeen hours after the Jedi had left the known galaxy, and arrived at the first Jedi temple. Five days since your tank had been wheeled into the main temple inside the mountain. One hour since it had been broken and your body flung to the ground.
Shaking and alone you wake.
Your eyes shoot open as pain takes hold of your body once more. A whimper across the room alerts you to the healer's presence. She lifts herself off the ground, a shard of the tank glass lodged in her arm.
"They said you were powerful, but this is something else. There is no way you could have broken through that drug" she yanked the glass from her arm as she spoke.
"Drug?" You cough out, trying to lift your body from the ground.
"Come now, you think he didn't know what you were? Of course he knew, he is the Emperor." She towers above you and you slump back to the ground, bacta liquid splashed around your limbs.
"You may be able to survive the drug but can you survive being torn apart?" Her sadistic smile brought an acidic bile to your throat.
"Obi-Wan, Anakin." You whisper their names as the healer draws her sabre. Using what little strength you have in your arms you try to crawl back, dragging your useless legs behind you.
Hani used her abilities to lift you into the air, your body rising out the side of the temple and dangling over the cliff side. Below the other Jedi see this and come running. Obi and Anakin at the forefront.
"You ruined the Emperor's plans. He wanted Skywalker, but he knows a better way to get him. Your death will reset his plans." Hani cackled but it's cut short as Obi-Wan's sabre drives through her body. You begin to fall. Anakin leaps off the temple following you. Your eyes meet and you reach up your arms to him. His body crashes into yours, pulling you tight against him. Air rushed around you, whipping your hair around your faces. You were sure you would feel the hard ground or sting of the cold water any moment but it didn't come. With a slight bounce the two of you stop and hover above the crashing waves.
Ahsoka and three other younglings concentrate with their hands outstretched in front of them. Using the force to fly you both to the shore.
"Are you okay? Did she hurt you?" Anakin whispered in your ear. You shake your head, throat too sore to answer. Once back on the ground you cling to Anakin's robes as he carries you into one of the small stone huts. Ahsoka brings water for you to drink.
"I'm sorry this should never have happened." Anakin repeated. His arms surrounding you holding both his robe and a blanket around your cold body, still wet from the tank.
Being unable to talk you pressed your hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating. Silently asking for answers.
"I'll explain everything soon, my love. First let's get you healthy." He says into your hair.
The warmth of Anakin's body against you lulled you into a peaceful sleep. He is simply glad to finally have you in his arms, to have you against him. You were alive and by the way your hands still held him tightly, you needed him as much as he needed you.
You awake again sometime later, Anakin's head resting back against the wall. You open your mouth to speak but no voice comes out. Nothing but breath can escape your throat. Opting instead to lightly tap Anakin's face to wake him.
"What is it? Are you okay?" He asks, sleep still in his voice.
You press your fingers to your throat and shake your head. Anakin cups your face with one hand.
"They said this could happen, when you were, when it happened your throat was clamped by the force. We think it was Palpatine, choking you. Your vocal chords have been damaged." You nod in understanding, placing your head into his shoulder once more. Across the hut the door opens revealing Obi-Wan.
"We need you both in the temple." He crossed the room and crouched before you, running his fingers through your hair, "oh dear one, we should have been paying closer attention." He whispered. You pull away from Anakin and fall into Obi-Wan's arms. "Can you walk?" He asks. Unsure you allow them both to help you to stand. Your legs are weak and wobble below you. Both men hold onto an arm each helping you to walk back to the temple. The council were waiting for you each with a Solomon look on their face. It's explained that they questioned Hani, the healer. She was being controlled by the darkside, using her position to lace the bacta tank with a drug. The substance kept your mind hazy and your attachment to the force weak. Had she succeeded you may never have awoken. Unfortunately the tank malfunctioned, you had been able to wake enough that you'd burst the tank from the inside.
"We know you are unable to speak but we need any information you have not yet told us." Plo requests. You turn to look at Obi-Wan, confusion pulling your eyebrows down.
"I know nothing. I have no memory of my life before…before meeting you." You echo your voice into his mind. Obi-Wan reiterates your words to the council.
"That is unfortunate." Yadel sighs.
"Locked away perhaps your memories are. Time to heal you may still need." Yoda nodded his head in your direction and the others agreed. It was determined that Obi-Wan and Anakin would work with you to get your body strong again. At which time they would work on your mind.
As evening drew in you felt a new fear creeping toward you. The native residents showed you to your own hut, there was a bed and not much else. They lit a fire inside but it did little to quell your fears. Perching on the edge of the bed you called out to the two people who could keep you safe.
"I don't want to be alone." You explain to them once they have both arrived. Each man sets themselves up a cot in the Anakin right beside your own and Obi-Wan close to 5he door. You finally fall asleep to the sound of R2s recording of a Naboo lullaby, your hand held by Anakin.
****************
Padme stood alone in her apartment, everyone she knew was dead or part of the new empire. Clothed in a simple black tunic and breeches she waited for her fait.
JarJar, the secret apprentice to Dooku, appeared at the landing platform.
"Time to go, Mesa Senator." He spoke in a much lower tone than she had ever known before, his glowing yellow.
"I am sorry you have fallen so far my old friend." She approached him, looking over his shoulder to see commander Typho standing by the star ship.
"Only sorry you were caught." JarJar quipped back at her.
"perhaps old friend, but you should have known better than to believe I would ever bow to an Emperor." As she spoke Typho had moved in close behind the Gungan Shooting him with a stun blaster. Jar jar fell to the ground as Typho pulled the Senator to the ship.
"We do not have much time. We must get to the Jedi." He said to her as they began pulling away from the landing pad.
"You know where they've gone?" She asked, settling into the copilot seat.
"We think so. I had a communication from Rex some time ago. Hopefully the intel is still good."
"Let's go find my husband." Padme said.
—
Over the last four days you had slowly learnt how to walk unaided, though Obi-Wan or Anakin would be beside you at all times, holding your arm. Cody had also become more concerned about your safety, stationing a guard at your door at all times.
The day was unusually warm for Anch-To so you had chosen to sit outside, laying a blanket on the grass. Obi-Wan runs a training session with the younglings not too far away. His eyes would glance over to you every few seconds.
“Anything come back to you yet?” She asked. You shake your head.
"I'm alright." You spoke to his mind, still unable to speak. He would nod and return to the lessons.
Ahsoka plonked down beside you.
“All I remember is them, Obi-Wan and Anakin, there is nothing else.” You think at her. It was a feeling, like you had been pulled into a place you didn’t belong whilst finally finding the one place you were meant to be. Your only memories were those with Obi-Wan and Anakin.
“It must be really disorientating.” Ahsoka sympathised. You nod and sigh, turning your head to watch the younglings train with their short sabres. If you were honest you had enjoyed the last few days. The planet was quiet and with no memories so was your mind. The Jedi appeared to thrive on this planet, training in the most basic of places took away much of their recent distractions. The clone troopers had begun creating a new network of homes. Building structures around the transport ships and cruisers that had brought them all there. You wondered if you could all stay and live in peace and harmony forever, though you knew that wouldn’t happen. The Empire would eventually reach you all.
“Where is your Master?”
“He is coming, the council needed to talk to him.” Ahsoka answers you.
“I am going for a walk. Distract Obi-Wan if he notices.” You say getting up and walking away. The Island was not massive but big enough that you could hide yourself away on the opposite side. A small flock of Pougs wandered along by your feet
“Miss y/n? Sorry, we’ve been told not to let you be alone.” A trooper called Stirrup appeared a few steps behind you.
“Can you hear me?” you ask through your mind, unsure if the trooper would hear your voice. The commander lifted his hand to his head,
“Whow. Was that you?” he asks, you smile and nod.
“Do we know each other well?” you step closer to him.
“Yeah, I guess so. We’ve been fighting alongside each other for two and a half years. You really don’t remember, do you?” There is a twinge of sadness in his eyes that makes you feel bad. How could you have forgotten someone who clearly means a lot to you?
“I’m sorry. The Masters say my memory will return eventually.”
“Of course it will, it has too. The Emperor will want everything in that little head of yours.” Stirrup stepped closer to you, his hand grabbing onto your arm. “We’ve been waiting but it’s taking too long. Time to take you back to the Emperor” Stirrup’s head twitched as if he was fighting against mechanics in his neck. Trying to yank your arm out of his you feel his grip tighten, pressing into your flesh.
“What was this?” He asks you.
“Anakin!” You call out through the force, bringing your foot up to kick the trooper in his stomach. He drops your arm as he lurches back and you take the opportunity to run away. Trees and bushes whipped at your skin as you ran, blaster shots ringing past you. You know you can out run him, pushing against the ground with the force on your side. You're running blind though, not knowing where you are running. You run into something hard and warm. Anakin’s arm wraps around you and he uses the force to hold Stirrup in the air.
“Anaklin, let him down, you cannot succumb to anger.” you think at him. Anakin looks down at you and nods, dropping the clone to the ground as several more come running in and cuff him.
“Anakin, check the clones for anything that could be used to control them. The Emperor, he is trying to use me to get to you.”
“Do you think we could have one boring week?” He laughs and you smile up at him. As Stirrup is marched away Anakin takes your hand to lead you back to your hut.
“Y/n? Before all of this I was trying to tell you how I felt about you.” He crouched in front of you sitting on the bed. “When you arrived here it was like a dream had come true, then you started to change things, not just me but the Jedi, the code. The galaxy is at war but with your help we have saved thousands of people who would've died before. Your coming here was a miracle none of us knew we needed. I did what you asked me to, I tried to be with her, to do what you needed me to do but I don’t think the time has long passed when that fate would have been true and I…I don’t-” You cut him off by placing your fingers to his lips. His eyes finally look up into yours, a gentle smile gracing your lips. You brush the back of your hand across his chin, dipping them into the curls at the back of his head before leaning into him and pressing a kiss to his lips. Anakin melts into your touch, his fingers holding onto your knees.
“I love you.” He whispers when you pull away from him. You answer him by crashing your lips to his once more, the kiss is deeper, needer like you were breathing life back into him. Your mind swirled with nothing but him and his scent as he moved, bringing your bodies together and wrapping his arms around you. Anakin has wanted this for so long and so his body reacts to it almost instantly. His breath is shallow, and his hands wander your body, memorising your shape, each rise and fall of your flesh. It is all too intoxicating but you need to feel more of him against you and so you push at his robes, dropping the brown leather to the ground, discarding it along with his belt. His skin is hot and hard against your own, now far too clothed chest. It was Anakin’s turn to need more and he pulled back from you, silently asking for permission. You pull your top over your head, dropping it in the pile. Anakin swallowed the lump in his throat, as you took hold of his hand and brought it up to your chest. He runs his fingers over your breasts feeling the heat of your flesh under his palm before softly touching the scar on your stomach. Your fingers trace his own scare. Reminders of a day that broke both your hearts.
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers.
“Only because I’m so in love.” You think.
“No it’s because I am so in love with you.”
“So love has blinded you?” The words feel familiar to you in some way, like a dream lost to waking. Anakin laughs, pulling you close to him once more.
“That's not what I meant.” He kisses you again
Outside the sun dropped below the horizon calling the night to take over. Stirrup lay on a bed in the medical centre they had created on one of the cruisers. The droid looked up at Obi-Wan.
“It would appear this clone still had his chip.” it explained. Obi-Wan pressed a hand over his mouth and hummed in response.
“We will need to check all the clones we have here. Commander Cody, Rex, have all the men report to you both, and keep them in quarters until we have had everyone checked.”
“Yes sir.” They replied in unison.
R2 beeped beside him.
“What is it?”
“If you don’t mind sir, R2 says there is an incoming transmission from Senator Amidala.” C3-PO translated.
Part three
. I hope you are enjoying the story so far and thank you for reading. Don't forget to like, comment and interact however you wish!
#anakin pov#anakin fanfic#anakin x reader#anakin skywalker#star wars#star wars anakin#anakin and ahsoka#padme amidala#anakin and padme#ahsoka#obi wan kenobi#obi wan x reader
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yandere rhaenyra x aegon (platonic) headcanons. rhaenyra sees aegon decides to love him and gives him the attention he craves and he trusts her above alicent and otto so he possibly when they are trying to crown him, he goes to her like always when afraid. I feel she could have forced alicent to let her participate in her siblings lives if she had desired it.
pairing: Platonic Rhaenyra Targaryen x Aegon Targaryen
alternate universe: Yandere Rhaenyra
type: headcanons
warnings: yandere tendencies
dividers by: firefly-graphics
bullet points: 48
A/N: thank you for your request and i hope you enjoyed, lovie ♡
regarding my break: i want to preface this post by saying that this post does not mean that i am not back yet and i still have not checked any notifications from this account but i worked myself up to posting this today and i know that these are not up to the level i usually get them to as they are shorter than i would have preferred and less detailed but i hope you can still enjoy these headcanons ♡ to make up for any disappointment i might consider redrafting these or making a part 2, whichever you decide, and tagging you in them once i have returned properly to tumblr and posting
i'm going to merge this with similarities from my last request because i don't want to repeat myself too much but the requests are also very similar, a link to anyone who hasn't read it is here
so this will start from when rhaenyra hears otto;
"What would your mother say?" The older man hisses, grasping the pale boy's shoulder "If she heard that you were whoring and poisoning yourself with ale at a time like this?" the ferocity is strong and harrowing through Aegon's bones, jolting him
"I-I-I cannot–it's not my fault!" Her brother's words stumble and splutter, an ache resides in her
she tries to remember every argument she has ever had with her own sons, were they ever this afraid? she cannot recall it, she hopes she will never have to
a lump forms in her throat as familiar words belt in her ears
"This is not what your mother needs right now, you are a disappointment to the throne and a disappointment to me." Aegon holds back his flinch but she does not at the abrasive words
"I do everything you ask of me," His voice sounds so quiet, so fragile
Rhaenyra remembers all the times she squeezed Alicent's hands and felt the nibbles at her nails, the stark red indents
She remembers her friend, she remembers her vows of protection
She remembers teaching Aegon how to pronounce her name
Ahe remembers teaching him to pronounce his own
"And yet you are still not enough." The grown man sneers with a pelt of venom. "It would be better had we sent you to Oldtown rather than Daeron. At least he had better wit even as a mere child."
and that is when the first instinct kicks in
the first time she orders control of Otto Hightower
The first time she cares to comfort her half-brother
Her face pinches as she steps out, a hard sneer on her face.
It isn't immediately that she decides to chew the old fool out but when he sighs and hardens his stance, she doesn't hold back
"Are you not ashamed of yourself?" She roars
Both man and boy flinch upon hearing her
Aegon's eyes have never gone so wide before
"Threatening a young boy–no, a prince of all boys." Otto stiffens but tries to hold back his anger in front of the named heir though he is sure that detail will change soon enough
"Your highness, I am threatening no one, I assure you. I am simply chastising my grandson."
"And how would his parents think of this?" Rhaenyra asks, raising her brows. "The King and Queen?"
she cannot help but delight in how a glimmer of concern and contentment flicker across his eyes. She hums and all but snaps her fingers.
"Perhaps I should be spending more time with my brother then, if he needs chastising such as you say." She tilts her head as his eyes widen. "Come Aegon, let us speak." He trails after her like an unsure puppy
which is when the obsession begins
she has someone fighting for validation of her, the very person who threatens her reign is the same who desperately wants her to see him
she knows her father plays favourites and she particularly knows where he falls in that order, Viserys has always favoured herself and Helaena but if she can twist that lens even slightly, she knows that Aegon will be more than agree to an allyship
It has been so long since he had her attention, he had even tried befriending her children to secure it
i think Rhaenyra would be a defensive and targeting yandere when it comes to Aegon
for example, she may begin isolating Aegon from The Greens she believes to threaten her
At the top of that list is Otto
Otto has been controlling Alicent since she was child, whether it was how she can braid her hair or to whom she will marry
Rhaenyra does not want Aegon under that control nor the environment but there is little she can do to isolate him if she is in Dragonstone and Alicent is insistent that Aegon stay in the Red Keep
...Unless she can trade out guards loyal to her and guards loyal to Alicent without her noticing
Which is precisely what she does and it takes a long time but slowly, with her husband's help, she is able to transfer half of her guards but years pass before this is achieved
Messages are sent between Rhaenyra and Aegon without interference but soon Alicent becomes suspicious of the hours Aegon pours into learning High Valyrian so that only Rhaenyra can read his letters fluently
She has never seen him so dedicated nor dependent on anything else but finds no matter how she tries, she cannot get word of her responses because she too has begun writing to him in High Valyrian
She has paid for him to be gifted his own private tutor and he is ecstatic, becoming spoiled by his sister for every response he gives her
When he recieves word that she is visiting, he drops everything and greets her with the excitement of a namesday
He stands by her and Alicent is surprised to find that Rhaenyra accepts the way he clings to her
It worries her but she believes all will be well once she leaves
And after Viserys has passed?
She is shocked that he doesn't try and flee
That he doesn't even hide
He just walks through the castle as if nothing is the matter
It is safe to say that both she and Otto are on edge but begrudgingly place faith in him
And when he swipes his father's crown into his hands with the ease of a mischievous cat? She expects him to throw it...
Until they reach the platform and a familiar silver haired princess is walking into the ceremony with her head held high. Gasps whip across the crowd but none move to stop her and especially not when their supposed soon to be King kneels at her feet
Otto commands the guards to cease her steps and those of the army behind her but they do nothing, in fact they seize him before any arguments to her role as Queen can take place
Aegon holds the golden crown high but before anyone can take it, Rhaenyra stands before him, Daemon at her side who takes it into his lean palms to place it upon her, recalling vows of safety and faith in her reign. Aegon kneels proudly before her as the words are spoken but when Alicent is about to seethe, she swallows
It is too late for long-standing plots and panic embeds in her gut
It is clear that to every suggestion, to every blatant demand, Aegon has told Rhaenyra tenfold
He has done more than deny his right, he has blatantly abdicated it before the court and spectators
But she needn't worry, Rhaenyra is very fond of him indeed
Perhaps he would even make a good Master of Coin, he understand not only the money of the castle but the prices in which take course in Fleabottom, he has been there enough to understand their suffering
So Alicent's fearful gaze roams Rhaenyra and her people as the woman is crowned
The same question bounces around in her head over and over again...What happens now? as Rhaenyra caresses Aegon's proud face gently and calls for him to stand beside her
#platonic#rhaenyra x aegon platonic#platonic headcanons#platonic rhaenyra x aegon#rhaenyra targaryen x aegon ii targaryen#rhaenyra targaryen x aegon ii targaryen platonic#yandere rhaenyra x aegon platonic#yandere rhaenyra x aegon ii platonic#yandere rhaenyra targaryen x aegon targaren platonic#yandere rhaenyra targaryen x aegon ii targaryen platonic#yandere rhaenyra#yandere rhaenyra targaryen#yandere rhaenyra platoniic#yandere rhaenyra targaryen platonic
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So I'm relatively new to the fandom, and during my stay in this rabbit hole, that is, Clexa, I've got a few questions that I'm hoping you could answer :)
Why is everyone here pro-Lexa? Like don't get me wrong I absolutely love Lexa as a character and Alycia is a queen, but why all the hate towards some of the other characters, like Bellamy? I've never watched The 100 the whole way through (literally exited outta the show the second Lexa died), even then, it's been years since I watched it. Did I miss something while I was binge-watching, or was my teenage brain at the time just too immature to realize he was a total jackass..? Also, it's not just Bellamy, I've also seen hate for Bob, the actor who plays him. Which brings me to another question: does this fandom not like Eliza? I always see so much support when Alycia has an upcoming project or is posting Instagram updates but nothing for Eliza? Again, no judgment for the Alycia love because I completely understand why everyone here is head over heels in love with that girl but I just wanted to know, has Eliza ever done anything wrong? Or have I just conveniently only stumbled upon Alycia stans on this app?
Anyway, a totally unrelated note but since I'm here… may I just say ma'am, your writing is the bomb diggity. Like the perfect blend of humor, sexiness, angst, and fluff, THE GODDAMN FLUFF. Genius, you're a genius, like a mad scientist of Clexa fanfic. Hope you keep doing what you're doing, my friend. Take your time though, and don't listen to those ignorant anons that are crawling around yelling "wHy ArE yOu TaKiNg So LoNg To UpDaTe?" Thank you for writing for the Clexa fandom! ❤️
First I wanna say thank you for the sweet words and reading, that means so much to me 🥹💕 not to be a nerd but I screenshot that for one of my worse imposter syndrome days lol
Long post so you can read under the cut. Long time clexas you can just skip if you want because honestly I got annoyed all over again just typing it and you know it all already 🥴
Now right off the top, you don't have to hate Bellamy if you don't want to. It's not like that's a prereq for being a clexa, so if you like him, like him and don't worry about what anyone says. He's a fictional character so anyone who gets intense over someone liking him I think needs to take a walk.
But the reason why a lot of Clexas, myself included, hate him is somewhat of a two part answer. The main reason being is that his character is trash 😅. I mean I'm not gonna dissect every little bit of canon but the main points for me at least, since I can't speak for anyone else, are that he was constantly fucking up literally everything. He gets to earth, proclaims "tHeRe aRe nO RuLeS" and then,,, immediately declares himself the leader and starts forcing people to follow what he says. He literally almost let Clarke fall into a pit of spikes, tried to handcuff her and keep her hostage "for her own good", he spearheaded the whole thing with taking off their wristbands, HE BACKED PIKE, participated in the massacre of a peaceful army sent to protect skaikru, he constantly shamed and blamed Clarke for everything that ever went wrong even when a lot of that stuff was either the best solution in a bad situation OR was an indirect fallout from something fucked up that skaikru had done. The sweaty little fucker was always trying to control/manipulate Clarke and skaikru and his own damn sister despite the fact that everything he ever planned himself turning out to be: A Terrible Idea. Basically the dude sucked but was held up on spindles of glorification as being this heroic uwu soft boy that wasn't actually supported by any one damn thing in canon when you actually look at it objectively. And I'm sure I'm even forgetting stuff. The dude just sucked.
Agian, that's my own two cents.
The other reason being, it's rollover from having to deal with blarks. Their constant harassment and shoving their fanon, non-existent ship down everyone's throat, while being entitled little brats throwing tantrums about them not happening at every turn has led from what probably would've been just a mild distaste for a character for most into loathing even the name. Understand I'm not saying the word harassment lightly. They were awful for years. Death threats and homophobia, spamming inboxes with hateful messages and sending awful pictures/memes etc. One even sent EJT a dick pic with Blark written on their penis. They sent memes non-stop about Lexa dying when people were still reeling from it. I'm not saying all Blarks are bad because they're not, but there was enough harassment and viciousness from a large enough and loud enough faction that at a certain point it becomes a blanket feeling of animosity toward the entire ship and everything that follows it.
As for disliking EJT. In reality, she used to be the fandom favorite. I mean she was our girl because she used to champion us and was hilarious about it. Go look up old cons and interviews with her. She was funny and great. Once upon a time E was our biggest cheerleader and dealt with A Lot of abuse and harassment from The Other fandom for it. I'm talking body shaming, slut shaming, comments about her intelligence, sexual harassment and trolling her about her boyfriends and very descriptive messages about how they wanted her to harm herself. The list goes on. And no one, especially not Bob who was the golden boy for The Other fandom, ever said a word in her defense. Never told his fans to stop or that he condemned it. Ever. Not once. That never sat well with clexas, but you can't control what other people do.
We had her back anyway. So, it was whatever. Gross, but whatever.
And then she married Bob. Which, and Blarks cannot seem to wrap their heads around this fact, literally no cared about. She could've just married him and kept being the same person and no one would've cared. In fact, the way this fandom loved her, at first everyone was like hmmm weird and sudden but good for her I guess! Be happy!
But then Bob's ex came forward with very serious allegations about her past relationship with him. She released a statement that you can easily find online and from that it painted a very dark picture of things that involved both him and EJT. As I'm someone who believes victims, I have no reason not to believe her, and since the very bizarre (non) rebuttal that EJT posted in reply made zero sense, that was that. It changed the lens of how a lot of people started looking at her.
Which leads me to the charities.
Hear a collective Clexa sigh.
They're a saga in themselves, but to sum it up as short as possible, EJT had been a part of a children's organization for YEARS that she herself helped set up. Clexas raised a lot of money for this charity through fundraising and selling fanart and we really cared about it. And literally within months of them being married, he became involved in it, and then shortly thereafter, magically they both had to "step away from it" for dubiously explained reasons. (Which, if you read his ex's statement, logical deduction of what probably actually happened will make more sense than what they claimed, and not in a good way.) Sensibly, they started recieving backlash from supporters because, again a lot of people had been helping this charity for years and all of a sudden she was just gone from it and all the projects were halted. I'm not blaming solely her for anything but to just cut and run like she did was sus to say the least.
So to steer away from that shitshow, they started another charity. With a bunch of right-wing MAGA nuts. Yeah. They weren't open or transparent about anything, no records of where any of the money was going, iirc no real legitimate charity registration/tax documentation that anyone could find (and in the US that's all public info sooooooo). It was a total clusterfuck that people started calling them out on from the start. At first they tried to ignore it and just keep collecting money by doing these ridiculous cameos as cash grabs, but just like the first charity, after a while (and a lot of initially unaccounted for money being raised) the poor little darlings just had to "step away for mental health reasons."
Which I would accept and support wholeheartedly because mental health is extremely serious... except funnily, they didn't stop doing the cameos. They kept doing those and charging their fans money to listen to them blather on about made up ~behind the scenes info~ about Blark stuff and it being super secretly canon but for a million reasons that they don't know and can't name, stopped it from happening. Claims of love scenes and kisses that have never been backed up by evidence (like a script) or corroborated by a single person involved in the show. But it's totally true guys, just trust them bro. So yeah, they've kept doing all that. Just... not giving the money they're charging for the cameos to their "charity."
So that's the meat of it, I might be forgetting things and smudging some finer details because it's been a long while ago, but I think you can get the gist. People don't like Bob because he was an ass to fans and EJT herself before them even getting married. He's said ableist things and quoted racists trying to sound smart and never once apologized for anything. He's been accused of abuse in his personal life and has never addressed it, only made his wife write a terrible fanfiction-esque response to appease his ardent followers. And frankly, she pissed off her fans. Once she married him, she completely flipped her personality from a funny charity doing, body positivity leading, cheerleading about "Clexa are soulmates" and "Lexa is the love of Clarke's life" girl, to doing personal cash grabs constantly while spewing all this made up Blark garbage that directly contradicts things they've both said in the past to please her faithful paying cameo fans (read his fans).
It's all left a lot of people with a bad taste in their mouth, to say the least.
And ya best believe if Alycia does some crazy shit, I'll turn on her too 🤷♀️ but honestly I'm not too worried about that cuz the girl is a cryptid who you literally can't pay to go to cons or do cameos
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╰┈➤𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘.ೃ࿐
{𝘎𝘕 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 + 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵}
Steve will be totally panicked at the sight. He doesn't know what exactly to do for comfort or help. He's afraid that if he hugs you, it'll only make you upset. On the other hand, if he does nothing he'll seem like an ass.
When Steve got the courage he wrapped his arms around you. “Hey, what's wrong?” he ask, rubbing your back. He could feel the pain you held, something which he bounded with. Whatever was making you cry he desperately wanted to know.
Natasha had to double-take when she first saw you. You were... Crying? But, why? Did someone hurt you? She made sure no one else was around you before approaching. Her idea was maybe the person responsible was still near. After checking she didn't waste a minute coming to your side.
“y/n, what happened?” her tone was soft as she only wished to comfort you. If you don't wanna talk she'll go away but will send someone else to check up. However, if you want her to stay she'll be your shoulder to cry on. Leaving you down is the last thing Nat will ever do.
Tony wasn't even paying attention to his surroundings. That is until he heard your small sobs nearby. Once he found you his normal tone changed into a more, sincere one. Placing a hand on your shoulder and lifting your head he saw how much you were crying.
“Hey now, why are you crying?” Tony asked, trying to not sound rude. He's not the best with comfort but tries his best to make you smile. He even hugged you fully. “It's okay, I'm here now.”
Loki saw you crying before anyone else did. He couldn't help but just stare, trying to figure out what to do. Should he just leave? He knew you didn't see him, therefore, he wouldn't have to deal with it. Regardless, he couldn't help but feel the need to care for you.
“Hello, y/n, may I ask what's bothering you?” Loki understands if you don't want to speak with him. He did try to take over earth quite a few times. If you open up though, he will as well. Just help him as he will you.
Thor could tell something was wrong with you all day. Seeing you sob wasn't a surprise to the man. That didn't mean he wasn't sorry, he still felt bad seeing you cry alone. He wanted to know the cause and perhaps he could help. If someone hurt you though, he'd beat their ass without hesitation.
“I knew you'd be here,” Thor took a seat next to you. “You know I can tell when you're upset right?” he would spend his time cracking jokes in hopes you'll smile. Even if you laugh at him because he's stupid, it's still a win in his eyes.
Clint would stumble upon you crying purely by accident. He's glad he did though, he never wants to see you upset. It took you a couple of minutes to realize he was there. When you did it was only because he broke the silence himself.
“What's with the tears?” he asked, wiping them away. After you answer Clint sighs. Why can't life be nice to those who deserve it? “I'm sorry, n/n, is there any way I can help?” ice cream, watching movies, whatever will make you happy he'll do it.
Bruce is calm when he approaches you. He noticed you crying in a corner and wanted to see what was the matter. He doesn't second guess his actions at all, only awaits to figure out this problem.
“Hello, n/n, you alright?” Bruce listens to you talk for a while before giving you the most logical advice. The last thing he wasn't for you to do is something irrational or put yourself in danger.
#reqs open#ask me anything#headcanon#steve rogers#bruce banner#loki laufeyson#thor odinson#natasha romanoff#clint barton#tony stark#marvel x you#reader x character#comfort#some angst#loki x reader#tony stark x reader#bruce banner x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#thor odison x reader#steve rogers x reader#clint barton x reader
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"Secrets in everything: Letters, neighbors, and things only walls will tell you"
Hello everyone! I'm so sorry that i haven't posted a fic in a while! it seems like i only post one every two to four weeks at this point ughhhh anyways ive written this fic for a friend but also for yall as well so i hope yall like it! after this fic im gonna work on an ask then so ill hopefully have that up soon for the person who sent it in! A little picture collage will be coming VERY soon lmao i didn't have time to make one yet. This fic all started when i was having some Minghao brain rot and stumbled upon this prompt about wifi names: "apt 203 is loud as fuck" "apt ??? say it to my face bitch" strangers to lovers and shit ya know? i cannot express how sorry i am that this is late! I put it in my que and since it didn't post when i wanted it to, i tried posting it on my own and it wouldn't let me. in summery: never using que again
anyways here are the warnings/info: cursing, smut, Very heavy on the smut, speaking of sex like it's something you need and not just want if you squint, slightly hinted at romance between hao and reader i guess idk, but you could just as easily read it as friendly affection, Minghao gets drunk and is a wee bit stupid, reader is on top, reader is referred to using they/them pns but has a vagina and tits, and a very nice ass that minghao likes to grab throughout this fic lmao, Minghao is thirsty for reader, reader is thirty for Minghao, Minghao keeps how he made the wifi name a secret from reader but it eventually comes out at the end, mutual masterbation.... through a wall if that makes sense, oral sex (f. receiving) hand job, protected sex (be safe, ya'll), shitty ending lol, friends to friends with benefits, writing out sex dreams? Minghao says something while drunk and can’t undo it although he wants to
~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper”. This is in no way is meant to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone~
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Thoughts lead to desires, desires lead to actions. Thats what kept replaying itself in Minghaos head the second he hit enter on his phone to change his wifi name. He'd heard it when he was a kid. Somewhere he couldn't quite remember. But now, suddenly, it was burning so fresh in his mind he couldn't get it out. He sighed to himself as he put down his cup. Looking down at his phone screen with and various other wifi names popping up bellow the words he cannot believe he just wrote. "apt303isloudasfuck"
He really shouldn't be doing this. This is why he shouldn't drink, he thinks to himself. Especially since whenever he saw you rushing out to work or school, or wherever you carried yourself to each morning. He swears his heart does a flipping routine.
And this? If you found out it was him telling everyone in the radius of your apartments that you're loud? It could ruin whatever you two don't already have. He thinks that maybe he'll just try his best not to be seen by you. Like, ever again. The problem with that though is how you both need to leave at about the same time to get to wherever you're going. And besides, maybe he did kinda want to mess around with you a little bit. Maybe that'll teach you to keep it down. If it wasn't loud music then it was some... other noises. Sounds of you, moaning and groaning. Making a mess of yourself behind his wall. Or, maybe somebody was the one making your words incorrect and moans fall from your lips.
or maybe the latter was your roommate. Cause as much as he didn't want to admit it, he didn't want to believe it was you who was getting pleasured by other people. Cause damn, he really wanted to be the one making you moan like that. He didn't even know you, so who's making you cum shouldn't be any of his concern. And it wasn't! Much. He wants to be the one making you feel good, bringing you to orgasm with his tongue. And he didn't like to think about the fact that other men were making you feel the way he wanted to.
But, none the less, whenever he did hear you, with only the thin sheetrock wall between each of your headboard. Thin enough to where he could hear you so clearly as if you were right there in front of him. He sure did enjoy the verbal show you put him through; fisting his cock until his tears made him bleary eyed and he couldn't take it anymore- his hand drenched with own cum from orgasming a million times along with you but still never feeling relived. So he always kept going until the pain of overstimulation was too much to bare. For you, all for you.
That was when one night he realized he didn't hear anyone else moaning along side you. Come to think of it he never really did. Sure, sometimes but not every night. that meant you were pleasuring yourself? The sounds started so suddenly he didn't have time to react. The thought of your fingers pleasuring yourself, pumping them in and out of you, covered with your slick and rubbing your clit? It drove him crazy, It was music to his ears. He could listen to your beautiful sounds forever.
He didn't even have the time to pause the show he was watching on his phone, taking his other headphone out of his ear so quickly that it landed off the surface of the bed. Where his headphones ended up wasn't really a concern for him. Cause in that moment all he could think about was you. He could always rewind it later. That is, if he ever could stop pleasuring himself to the echoes of your voice, even after you stopped. Cause for him, once he started he could never stop with you. You were too addictive for him. The way to talked, the way you'd always leave a little note with the bundle of mail you'd drop off at his door when ya'lls would get mixed up. Whenever he'd come home to see it he couldn’t have been more glad for apartment numbers to get mixed up and a mail person who did their job a little too quickly at your building sometimes. Albeit he was a little sad he didn't catch you; but he liked the look of your handwriting-- it was cute, he thought.
but fast forward a little later and he’s starting to write back. And not just when you mail gets mixed up, either. Just little sticky notes he taps on your door ending with smiley faces and exclamation points. You start writing him back, too. And before you two know it you’re sharing notes ripped out of full notebooks with arrows pointing to the back because you still have more to say but never enough room. He seems so easy and just oh so caring through this words the more you two find yourselves awaiting the pages you’d put in the others mail boxes. Finding yourselves excited more and more for the familiar hand writing inked on clean white paper. You two talk about anything and everything. But don’t be fooled, cause minghao spends the better half of his dinner time making sure each and every letter in his letters to you are legible. He feels like a little schoolboy trying to impress you with his neat handwritten and well detailed sentences. But he can’t help it; he just wants you to think he’s somebody. Somebody worth spending your time with and talking to. He doesn’t know why but he feels like, especially with the more he’s talking to you, he wants you to view him as someone cool. Great, he thinks. Now he definitely sounds like a little kid.
would you mind? He asks himself. Would you mind that he’s a little desperate for you? So desperate that he lays in bed and stays awake a little longer now because he wants to hear your sweet voice react as you pleasure yourself again for the hundredth time? He hopes not. But, just like that new Wi-Fi name he’s chosen for his router, that’ll stay between him and his apartment’s ceiling. The thing he looks up at in both instances. Sometimes when he gets reminded of what you’d think of him if you if it ever got out that he wrote the “apt303isloudasfuck” and how he doesn’t understand why he still has it up. And the other time he looks up at the ceiling is with his mouth agape, his lips wet from his tongue running over them with each torturing stroke of his hand over his bulge in his pants. The fabric constricting him to were it was painful every time. But not wanting to stop touching himself for long enough to slip down his pants. (The response on the Wi-Fi thing only comes after they talk o each other face to face. “…and when he checked his phone again, looking down at the bright alumina red screen with tires eyes, there was another name quite similar to the one he put down as his one. ‘Apt???sayittomyfacebitch’
he slammed down his phone onto the nearest surface (which just happened to be his lap. Yeah… not the best idea) but believe it or not he wasn’t really thinking about that right now. You responded?? Well, he doesn’t know who would call “apt???sayittomyfacebitch” a real response like oh, I don’t know, “yeah, my day’s going great.” But you noticed? Well then again it would be pretty hard to disregard when your apartment is getting dragged through the mud with a wifi name.
But this made him even more worried. This means you’ve definitely seen it. And based on what you said…. You were probably looking for the person who wrote that. What if you found out it was him? Is this why you were taking an interest in him all of a sudden? No, he believed in his ability to conceal it from you enough to know you’d never find out. That’s when, with this new information clouding his good judgment he just had to grab the neatly folded paper from his bedroom desk and walk out his door. A little potted plant was the only thing separating yours and his places of residence from each other. One put up and watered every Saturday morning. He patted down the backside of his hair as he made sure not to ruin the paper he so neatly folded for you. Realizing he forgot tape to stick it to your door, he was About to go and get some when he heard movement behind the heavy door that lead into your apartment. rustling of footsteps and cloths. And before he knew it your face had appeared in front of him, door swung into your foyer. He couldn’t just leave now. You had seen him. So he tried his best to put on a not awkward smile as your eyes lit up the dim outside hallway he was standing in. Your presence seemed to replace the light bulb that had been missing the fast few days in the overhead lights. “Hey, Minghao. Nice to see you.”
you remembered his name?? His name? The person who let everyone know how loud your apt was? Of course you did. What else? You’d started off almost each and every letter to him with his name in one way or another. Oh great, now he was thinking about all of your letters to him. Everything you had shared with each other from the depths of both of your hearts. How the fucking hell was he supposed to look you in the eyes when you knew how, when he was in high school, he had fallen on his actual face trying to reach his pencil when it had fallen underneath his desk. Leaned too far out of his chair and then boom! Face planted. How was any human being supposed to look someone they considered a friend in the eye when all you two did was trade letters to each other because of your busy schedules? Not to mention how he’d been stupid enough to let it slip that he can barely open a bag of chips without it busting out the bottom too. But, he remembers, it did make you laugh. So maybe he could do this. He’d made you laugh and carried quite deep and just plain old nice conversations with you over letters for months. What was so hard about doing them with you face to face?
He gave you a smile as you slid to the side. “Hi. I was just dropping your note off.” He says. How could you be so cool calm and collected, he wondered. Meanwhile, you were asking yourself the same thing about your neighbor. The neighbor you couldn’t stop thinking about. The way he talked to freely with you, how you two just seemed to click after the first note; bouncing off of each others jokes and becoming friends. You’d considered giving him your number but you kind of liked getting to know him off paper through his best hand writing. You’d never tell him, but you secretly had a pile of folded papers in the top drawer of your desk you’d written out of him. Never sent. And probably, considering the contents of those letters, never will be. He shows you the folded note, this time on different paper, you notice. You take it out of his hands as you gesture for him to come inside. “Are you sure?” He gulps. You looked at him like he was crazy, shrinking back a little. “Dude, get inside.” You chuckled. He wasn’t usually like this. You think back to all the letters he’s sent you. And come up with not much to make you think he’d be like this around you. You certainly didn’t want him to be like that. after all you’ve talked about with each other you’ve come to know someone, even if it is only over paper… someone who you consider a friend. That’s another reason why you could never send him those letters. They had… things in there that two friends wouldn’t never think of the other. Or at least admit them out loud to them. But, with the way he handled himself now, which wasn’t that much different from his letters. But more uptight now that was standing by your coat hangers by the door and bending down to take off his shoes. You didn’t know what, but something was off with him. He was jittery, lol he had just snorted a two cups of sugar on the way out his door. His eyes darted around like he was in an awkward setting. So, you tried you best to make him as comfortable as possible.
you lead him through your apartment and into the living room. He took a deep breath. He wants to tell you that he’s not always like how he is now: palms sweating, and unable to talk much. You just overwhelm him to the point where his mind is clouded and his actions seem off. It shouldn’t be a problem for him though, you talk to each other multiple times a day. Like, full on conversations. But now it all feels just a little too real with you hovering over him as he sits down on your sofa, trying to remember that you’re both friends. He comes back to earth with you weave you hand in his face. You laugh nervously at his distraction. “You didn’t hear a thing I just said, did you?” Shit shit shit. This really isn’t a good look for him. “No,” he hangs his head low for a second, “im sorry I didn’t.” You lean back and seem to relax a little bit. It almost looks like you’re just as in need to relax as he is.
Just didn’t have have the horrible talent of not being able to hide it well. It wasn’t his fault. He was already trying his best not to get hard. Having to not act nervous and flustered over seeing your pretty faces too? That was a lot to ask of Minghao. That’s why he sat down. And why he was crossing his legs in hopes of trying to distract himself from the yearning for you inside him. For him to have all of you. For him to make you sound just like you do when he hears you in your room. God, all he ever dreamed of now was you writhing is pleasure above him as he tongued your clit. Or you wrapped some tightly around his cock he felt like you were trying to choke him and make him cum. “I said my roommate isn’t home.” Oh, so you did have one, “and asked if you wanted something to drink.” It made him feel strangely comforted though, that you also were feeling the same as him.
He agreed readily. Finding it easy to make room to spend more time with you. You came back not a couple minutes later and ploped down next to him, your chin in your palm. You didn’t want to admit it, but fuck he looked so beautiful in person. It made you wanna curl up on your sofa and immerse yourself in him all day. You’d be content with just staying here and doing just that, making up for All the missed times where you could’ve been already. But no, you kept yourselves mostly behind the pen and paper. Scribbles and commas became your only form of sight into what the other looked like. You didn’t even realize how long you’d been carrying out your plan to stare at him until he shifted a little farther back into the cushion. “Is it just me or is that way more awkward than it should be?” He chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. And then getting a sickly little whispering reminder of how he was now: drink in hand, phone in reach— was not that unlike the situation where the secret he has to keep from you now came about. But no, he can’t think of that right now. He’s trying to keep his mind free of anything that could jeopardize your friendship. And thinking of the one thing he’ll never be able to tell you might do the trick if he doesn’t stop. But strangely, the idea of you finding out— the idea of you strongly telling him to take the fucking thing down doesn’t do anything but make him want you more inside. You telling him-- no, ordering him to take it down.He didn't know what or why, but it made him reach all new kinds of levals of excitement. Anticipation of what you could do to him. How you’d moan for him and writhe under his touch. The possibility we’re endless and he couldn’t stop thinking up new ones.
There’s an un spoken rule between the two of you… both of you made noise. Noise that neither of you really minded because it brought you so much pleasure. But in all your writings to each other, you’d never talk about it. That was the rule: don’t bring up what happens at night. A Thought Leeds to a desire, and a desire Leeds to an action. So you tried not to talk about it, no you even theirs noting to think about it, was there?
All you needed to do was get through this night. As... friends. Because that was what you two were-- friends. Noting more, noting less. Didn't matter than you imagined him every night you were alone and needed relief. Him and that cute smile of his. Him reaching up to fix the light in your little corner of hallway on your floor of your apartment. The way his shirt rode up, exposing his waist. God, you'd do just about anything to have his skin under your fingers. Feeling the softness of his tummy.
"So you said there's some shows you never got to watch because you dont have the streaming service?" You shook your mind out of its dangerous thoughts. providing an easier environment not to pounce on him; less... tempting when you were thinking of watching tv with him and not being on top of him. His shirt on the floor. He nods, leaning impossibly closer to your already heavy breathing form. Didn't he realize the effect he had on you? You gulped, hopefully not loud enough to hear. You didn't need this to go anywhere that wasn't what normal friends do. "My roommate pays for one of the places that show you were talking about plays on." You look him dead in the eyes as you reach for the remote.
You had planned on just doing so as a question to him weather he wanted to watch anything. But it turned into the most arousing staring contest youd ever been a part of. You looked into his eyes, forgetting to blink. You felt that if you did you might miss commenting about the way they flickered and shone. There was something else in them, though. His pupils were blown wide. somehow making his eyes even darker. You wondered what he could be thinking about. But that didn't really matter, did it? Because what you should've been focusing on was how to move away from him
You were so close you could feel his body heat like a radiator. How was he not sweating? You felt like the sun was right in front of you. Meanwhile, Minghao was wondering the same thing. The ac kicked on at just the right time because he didn't know how much longer he could keep himself from visibly overheating. That was the last thing he needed right now. You got up on your knees to reach for your glass. Why did you have to do things that drove him wild? Did you know deep down that you were torturing him with every move? It was stupid and desperate for him to have to control himself so much after the little you were giving him. It wasn't much, but it was teasing him. It all made him crave more. It was childish and desperate of him to be like this with you. But he didn't really care anymore. After knowing you-- even if it was only from swapping letters, he couldn't get enough of you. If you ever stopped taping letters to his door then he'd beg on his knees for you to continue. He didn't care that it seemed desperate because it was. He was. Desperate for more of you. Just like he was now. So much so that when you leaned forward again to pick up the remote to turn the volume up of a show that he'd been wanting to watch for months, but somehow with you it sounded like background noise. He couldn't pay full attention to it for the life of him because You were Right There. Next to him. Smiling and chuckling and genuinely enjoying what you were watching with him. The smile he hoped beyond compare that youd have when reading his letters. He'd only seen it a few times in person, but, a feeling bubbled up into his chest. The same one he feels every time reading your writings to him.
He felt and aching in his groin. If his eyes weren't as wide as saucers before, then they definitely were now. He didn't even need to look down. More afraid to than anything. If he took his eyes of either you or the tv-- things that he wanted to be real, things that were real... Well, he doesn't know what that'll do but he doesn't want to acknowledge it thats for sure. He really doesn't want it to be real. This cannot be happening. Not here, not right now. but How could he not be half hard when you could lean over and kiss him right now if you wanted and hed let you? How could he not be half hard right now with you looking so god damn otherworldly? When all these plush sofa cushions made him want to do was to bring you on top of him and rub you on his thighs and cock until you made a mess on his sweats? It was impossible. He searched whatever space was left in his near thought cleared, empty and short circuiting brain, using what he thought where his last few brain cells that weren't occupied with you to think of what to do about his problem. His eyes landed on a pillow on the back of your sofa, likely moved out of the way for more room. Quickly as to avoid suspicion, he glided it down from its perch and on top of his growing erection.
Little did he know that you had turned the tv up to drown out your own thoughts. Thoughts you didn't need of him. Never doing you any good other than frustrating you further. Making you desire him more. Nearly an hour later and you two had sunken further into the sofa... and each other. Thoughts lead to desire, and desires lead to action. That was what you had to keep repeating to yourself over and over until youd hopefully get the point to stop thinking of those beautiful, soft looking lips. Didn't help that his tongue was fucking darting out to wet them every two seconds. You couldn't help but stare at them. It wouldn't hurt if you just leaned a little closer, would it? Friends cuddle on their sofas while watching the tv all the time.
And your ac was running a little high. But instead of getting up to turn it down like you usually would have to, I don't know, not waste your money. You stayed just like how you were, grateful for the excuse you could readily have available to you if he asked. But to your surprise he didn't. Although he did press the pillow more firmly into his lap. If you didn't know better you would've thought the pillow was made of gold or something. Like it was his teddy bear or something. You couldn't even think of anything else besides how badly you wanted to push both the pillow and preferably also his shirt off of him and shove him down into the sofa.
This was pathetic, you thought. A new low for you, even. This was your first time spending more than a couple minutes with the guy face to face and... not like it was awkward. No, not at all. You had been friends for six months or so over letters. But being with him. No, being so fucking close to him on this damn sofa was making you desire him even more.
That was it, now! Great, you'd already crossed one line of thinking about what youd like to do to him. Now you were starting to desire it, too. Not much longer and you feared you'd take action on those thoughts and desires. You really needed to make your self think of anything anything that would save you from this self induced peril.
"Did you see that weird ass wifi name?" Your words almost made minghao jump out of his seat. Steadying his pillow over his lap (his stupid fucking boner still hadn't gone away) And clearing his throat, he finally responded. "Oh? That? No, I haven't. What is it?" He tried sounding airy, nonchalant, free as a bird. "You know, that wifi name that had popped up what, about six months ago?" You seemed to ask yourself the question, pausing for a minute before continuing, "Around the same time you and I started talking. It says-- actually, lemme pull it up right now. Its fuckin hilarious." You whip out your phone before he could say another word and before he could even take another calming deep breath you were reaching over him, check pressed up against his upper arm, showing him the wifi name he made but couldn't tell you about. Why does he keep it on there anyways? He doesn't really want to even admit the only to reason he's come up with to himself. One was that yeah, your apartment was loud and it felt nice to have this. Even if you could one day find out and ruin whatever this thing he had with you was. Number two was that maybe it did make him painfully hard to think about what youd do to him if you found out. Use his cock for your own pleasure for hours until he was crying from overstimulation? Tell him not to cum until you tell him to, touching him in ways that'll make him let out embarrassingly loud noises for you, telling him that if he came without permission youd punish him cause he was a bad boy? Everything that could happen? He couldn't get them out of his head
"That's weird." He chuckled, scratching behind his neck, "Never saw it." He seemed nervous. But you were kind of liking his blushing face and puppy dog eyes. But Really? You thought. For some reason, your shitty building interfered with even the best of wifi providers. So most people had to reconnect their devices to their wifis every once and a while. Maybe he was on a part of the building where it wasn't as bad? Or maybe he paid extra for better wifi? It didn't really matter.
A little later at you had gotten up to refill both of your drinks. Little did you know Minghao had followed right behind you. He didn't really know what that said about him, all he knew was that he didn't want to be separated from you just yet. Even if it only was for a few minutes. He hadn't had his fill of you. Though, he doesn't think he ever will. You could feel him behind you. His presence, just like every other time he talked to you, was heavy as lead in the air. You could smell his cologne, too. And you didn't mind that the smell would linger in your apartment and stick to your sofa for longer than he'd be here.
You didn't, however, really pay much mind to how close he was. Nor did he, honestly. Neither of you really could care or complain, though. As when you turned around you came face to face oh so closely with your houseguest. The gap between you was small enough to where the cups in your hands pressed neatly against his chest, making your knuckles dig into his skin enough to feel his body heat. Also close enough were you could feel how much he really enjoyed being so close to you. You backs away, not nearly as fast as someone caught in this situation would usually be like.
Although missing your presence so close to him, he knows he needs to pull away from you. You were probably grossed out because of him now. And yes, maybe one day he would've told you how he feels, this was not the way he wanted it to go at all! He can't believe he just did this-- not remember the thing he's been trying so hard to hide? He wishes he could go back in time and slap himself in the face for even thinking that getting up without something to cover his crotch was a good idea. To his surprise though, you smile at him knowingly. And before either of you has a chance to think about what you're doing, you pull him closer to you. Just like you had been before. Expect now theres no barriers of fear between the two of you.
His hands fall limp at his sides. Yours slide up his torso. Both of you wanted this; to move closer. But it seemed like just as before, neither were going to make the first move. But you liked him this close. And even if noting was going to come of what you had just done besides nervous laughs and turning heads in the future, you would be glad to have his body this close to yours in your memory. His hands ghost your hips. A shiver runs its way up your spine at the phantom touch. "Was that a good sigh?" He asks. Lost in the throw of everything about him, you hadn't even realized you had let one out. "Of course it is." You say, trying to bring him even closer. You see him swallow hard before bringing his lips closer to yours.
It takes all of your willpower-- a source that was already dramatically dwindling once he got here. To not yank him in and smash you lips to his. Something you've been wanting to do for a while. But with his hands planted so wonderfully on your hips: firm but still delicate enough to never crush a flower. You're not sure how much longer you can hold out. He takes the next step: leaning a little closer to you. By now your faces are mere inches apart. "This is bad..." He whispers, his fingers now hooked in your belt loops. Because, he knows that if he gives in now, he'll neve able able to stop. Wrapped around your finger. "Maybe," you whisper, tongue darting out to lick your lips, an act his eyes followed with concentration. You loved the look-- wide eyed and begging, it looked beautiful on him. You wanted more. "But this is the good kind of bad, hm?" You suggest. He nods slightly, still focused on your lips. Not like you aren't with his. As you close whatever gap was remaining between the two of you. Prohibiting you from being as close to him as you wanted. As you desired.
This felt so good, so natural. A blissful feeling you adored with all your heart. Even only a few seconds in. Minghao really wanted to take this slow, take his time with you. But the aching in his pants were starting to become painful. A glorious moment of feeling his lips on yours later and he's pushing you against your kitchen counter. His kisses becoming as urgent at yours. You never really tried to be gentle. After the first kiss-- the first second or two of him kissing you? You would be dumb to hold back.
He pressed himself into you even more. His knee slotting between your legs. His mouth was hot. Same as the growing feeling in the pit of your stomach. He parts his pretty lips-- the same ones youve had dream after dream of wrapped around your clit. You moaned into his mouth when he stopped gasping your belt loops like they were life support and griped your hips with newfound vigor. You deepen the kiss even more, something you weren't sure was possible.
His weight on top of you was driving you crazy. He pulled away from air, breathing heavy into your mouth. Your name on the tip of his lips. You couldn't stand not having them on you again. You felt his body tense when you pull him back to you. But this time your lips only ghosted his, fluttering over them. Only making him want you more. Before moving to the soft skin of his neck, leaving a trail of kisses there that made his body go slack against yours.
Your fingers prickled and tingled as you slid your hands up his bare back, his shirt already halfway untucked. His tongue explored your mouth with vigor. At a time like this you were grateful for the counter to support your weakening legs. Not like you were really thinking of that anyway now, though. All this time you only had one thing in your mind: to make him want you, to be on top of him making him moan for you without let up. But now you weren't too sure if you were going to be the only one doing so. You couldn't hold back anymore. You needed to feel some sort of friction. By now your underwear was soaked ; you could feel the fabric cling to your wet pussy. All you wanted was for him to take them off of you. Pulling them to the side to finger would be just as good. You didn't care, you just need something form him. Anything.
"Fuck--" You inhaled sharply, grinding your hips against his thigh. Your apartment was getting colder no doubt . But even with his back exposed neither of you were shivering. Both too lost in how you made each other feel. You couldn't seem to get enough of him. Even if you've been reading his letters every day. Your fingers made their way to his beautiful, soft hair-- hair only and angel would have. So pretty and otherworldly it seemed unreal under your fingertips. As he moved down to your next. Though his lips never seemed to want to leave yours. He spent a while on your jawline, kissing in the spot where your neck met your face until it was beautifully numb. The good kind of numb that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. The spot would no doubt the tinder later on in the day. But you felt oddly pleased to have a reminder of him on your skin for as long as you could. Even after going a little further down to lick and gently press his pretty lips to the front of your throat, he still chased your lips like a man deprived of your kisses as if he didn't have them a moment ago. But once he fully focusses on his task he is unstoppable.
Every drag of his tongue on your felt like a delicious mix between torture and heaven. The feeling he was making erupt inside you was like no other you'd ever felt. And you never wanted him to stop. Of course, with the first coherent though in your brain for him to never stop, he did. This time his eyes finding yours, having a question in them. You nod. and with that he goes even lower. Your color bone becoming wet and sticky with his saliva. You pull his hair down to keep him there. You're still moving on his thigh. But it isn't enough. Not like it ever was. God, what you'd do in that moment to have his mouth on your pussy. He emerged back up to your face, looking at your with needy eyes. A second later and his lips are on yours. He melts into you, begging looks never forgotten as you flip him around so that now he was flush with the counter. He makes a sound of agreement as you start working on his neck desperately, just like he had done with you. With the thought of his fingers, his thigh was long forgotten by the both of you. Now you didn't think that it could ever do justice when all you could think about is his slender fingers and how they were gliding up your sides right now.
He tilts his neck back to give your more access as he bucks his hips into you. Both things you wish you had thought of sooner. "I-I-" He mumbles, not really knowing what he was going to say anyways. Even with just your lips on his neck, words dying in his mouth, all he can think about is them as you make your way up and down his skin there. All he can think about is ho soft they are. All he can think about is how they'd feel wrapped around his aching cock that was now pressed up against you. And now that all hes thinking about is having more of you he can't help put let out a strangled moan, as it rips from his throat he realizes that it's probably too loud for something as little as you sucking on his neck. But at this point he doesn't really care. He just wants to you to know how good you're already making him feel.
As soon as you pull his shirt over his head was as soon as his expression changed. His eyes seem to focus on reality now, breathing starting to steady. The look of need and pure fucking lust for you stays the same though. You plan on making it stay that way again and again. Even if you don't get to do anything more than kissing with grinded with him. Just to see the look in your eyes would be enough to bring you to your high on your own. "I dont wanna do this here. bed?" he asks with puppy dog eyes. How could you refuse him?
he grips your ass and kneads it-- strong grip, but with a kind of softness you can't deny, as you lead him to your bedroom. More like stumble into it, your lips never leaving each other. Locked with the key thrown away. To involved in the kiss he nearly bumps into the door frame of your bedroom. You jerk him away, finding it endearing when he chases the plush of your pretty lips. He realizes the you’d just saved him a bump on the head. “Well, guess that’s on walking backwards. Maybe—“ no time to think. You grab his hands with a primal, animalistic strangled sound. You needed him. Now. You grind into his lap, trying to find some sort of relief in the fabric of his pants and the flesh of his thigh. “Ah— don’t stop” he whines out, head thrown back like this was the best thing in the world he’s ever felt. At your hands. you almost stop in surprise. But his words have such an effect on you that you don’t think you can. Now you have to keep feeling him.
He doesn't know why or what came over him, but in a flash his hand his wrapped around your wrist and bringing it to his crotch, helping you feel how hard he is through his pants. "Shit— baby. See what you do to me?" Where this sudden courage came from, he doesn't know. But you have to know how crazy he is about you. you have to. He needs you to know. You shiver at the feeling of him beneath your hand. You nod at him, barely trusting your own words. You continued to rock into him, clenching your teeth. He reaches down between the two of you, watching his fingers as they snake right were you need him. Even if still covered in the confines of your pants. (Neither of you thought you could ever hate clothes as much as you did in that moment. They weren't doing you any good.) the wonderful feeling of him on your clothed pussy felt like no other. Now that you had a taste of his fingers, just as before with his thigh and just like a second ago with his hard length, you could never go back to something smaller. It just kept getting better and better. Now that you felt his fingers, noting else could compare. The desire for them was about to lead into action. But you couldn't care less. "I-Is this ok?" He asks. And youre taken aback. Him? Asking if you liked it when you couldn't even think straight enough to keep sucking on his neck like before, resorting to pressing a few kisses there in the meantime.
"You're doing great." You say, trying to keep any shakiness out of your voice. You dont want him to know how much of a n effect he has on you. He searches for your clit in a way that only made you want him more. Was he teasing you or was this real? You couldn't take it anymore: you unbutton your jeans and slide them down a bit, taking his hand and shoving it down to feel your wetness. He audibly gulps. Hard. You doesn't think he could ever move from this position: with his hand warm and damp with your arousal. When he doesn't do anything, his hand just idly underneath you, you say, "What? Nervous baby?" You laugh. Almost condescendingly. He gets the point a second later, shaking himself out of his daze. He wonders what this all says about him-- that he can't function the minute his hand is on your pussy. You grind yourself on his hand, his palm brushing against your clit every time your rock yourself on him. The fucking sounds in the air. Minghao doesn't think he'll be able to last very long with the obscene, almost pornographic squelching and panting he hears ringing in his ears. He finally takes his fingers into your ruined underwear, other hand that was feeling up your ass goes to your face, bringing you in for a hard and passionate kiss when he glides them inside of you.
At this point the kiss doesn't surprise you, you've come to have an inkling that he likes them. Or maybe, he just likes having them with you. It was bad, you knew that, but you didn't really care either way. Too lost in how his fingers curled inside of you just right. You were so warm, so wet and tight. He could just imagine what youd feel like on his cock. Meanwhile you? You didn't think you ever felt something so easily good. Just in an instant, he made you feel like he had everything you wanted and then some. Things you couldn't imagine just beyond your reach. You reel your head back and squeeze your eyes shut tight, trying to focus on not cumming so fast. He bucks his hips up onto your wet heat when he saw your face.
How was he making you feel this good? To the point were you were sighing and groaning and looking so fucking good? If his fingers weren't knuckle deep into your pussy, and his other hand wasn't pressed flat on the skin of your back, he'd pinch himself. Was this real? It sure didn't feel like it. Your hand his still on his wrist, holding him just were you need him. Forcing him to stay there. It wasn't like he'd ever want to leave you thought. He can't think of a single better feeling right now than your warm and tight pussy. He doesn't think the feeling could ever leave his mind if he could ever peel himself away from your bed once this is all said and done. But secretly, there's two things he doesn't know if he should admit yet. One: that he wants you to ask him to stay. He knows its only three in the afternoon... or at least it was when he got here.
(Thats another thing, ever since he go there all sense of time seemed to leave his brain. vanish along with his sanity into thin air.) He doesn't want to have to think about "when this is all said and done" and he has to tredge his way next door to his own bed. His own bed where all he'll have are the memories of you writhing and panting for him. Because of him. The ghost of your around his fingers, dripping onto his palm. And number two: is that your iron grip on his wrist did noting but turn him on more for you. Which, Minghao didn't even think was possible until now. But something about you making him stay right there where you needed him, helping him make you feel good... Something about that made his brain cloud and fog up enough to almost slow his pace inside of you. He guessed he just liked it when you took charge of him. Even in small ways like these. "Mmhm," You sound pleased, your hand never leaving his wrist and the other never leaving his bare torso, almost silently asking him to stay down, "Just like that." And at that moment he doesn't think he could ever feel better than how he does with that look on your face. You needed more. It was stupid, really. To just keep taking and taking and taking. But it looked like he was enjoying himself just as much as you were. "Please--" his beg meets your ears as you look down at him. His smooth skin under your hand, his pretty waist and nipples, everything,
"Eyes open..." For a second he seems lost for words, now desperate in his movements against you "I need to see you." Your lids snap open at his request. You couldn't see any reason to deny him. And it wasn't like you didn't want to take a moment to let his body sink into your mind. You run your hands up and down his torso, feeling every inch of him. Minghao shivers at the contact just like you did him but he doesnt make one move to turn away. How was he so god damn sensitive? And just from you feeling him up, too? But you wanted to remember what he felt like. The dip of his hips to his pronounced collarbone. The way his hair fanned over your pillow like a halo. He really was an angel.
But you felt like he was teasing. Giving your just enough to keep you begging for more. You got the feeling he wasn't doing it intentionally though. No... he seemed too nice for that. But no matter if he wanted to or not it was getting frustrating to have him playing with you like this. No outcome to his torturous actions. "Angel..." You call out to the man with the plush kiss blown lips that made you wanna devour them and then kiss away softly the harshness youve ensued on them. He breathes hard at the nickname, wishing to hear it fall from your lips like a prayer anytime youd have him all to yourself. Just. Like. This. He nods, your eyes never leaving his lips as his tongue darts out the wet them. He's been doing that all day. He had to have known what he was doing. He had confessed in one of his pretty written letters that he always brought chapstick with him. You weren't sure if you were glad he forgot it or mad at him because of how much you wanted to cum. "Don't tease." What was opposed to be heard as a light instruction, came out more like begging. But, to be honest. It wasn't like you were doing anything different in your heart. You wanted noting more than to cum around his fingers. So, just as before, the desires of the heart seep though your carefully tapped up cracks.
Minghao slows his movements, no doubt making you even more mad at him. But whats in his mind now could top anything hes done with you. It's been in his mind for a while now. And, in the end, he was never that strong willed when it came to matters of you. He told your just what he was thinking. though, it terms of trying to keep this friendship a strict friendship he was doing a horrible job at it. But, just as previously stated, a thought becomes a desire, and a desire will soon become an action. But now, he remembers something else from that saying: "it will then become sin." But the thought of you on his face, your thighs suffocating him and nose buried deep in your wetness sounds like heaven to him. The exact opposite. He'd been thinking about it for too long, then for a while he'd been desiring your like that, now he was finally asking. It seemed like it took forever to get out of his mouth. Hopefully like the taste of you on his tongue, refreshing when he licks his teeth. "I need you on my face." His words left you dazed. He finally stops his movements, his fingers still deep inside of you. "Angel, what--" "I need you on my nose." He nods his head once, beckoning you higher up on him. You slide a little further up on him, his fingers coming out of you with a sound he doesn’t think he can ever forget. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take. He fucking needs you on his tongue. Lapping up whatever you give him. Its not like you don't want to. No, it's something you've dreamed about for months. But as you start to get in your head about it, your thoughts turning from excited to worry. A comforting hand runs up your back, effectively letting you know he's right there with you. For you. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to. At all," He assures you. You nod, taking a breath. "Of course i fucking want to." You slide up onto his chest a little more. Shit, he can feel you dripping onto his stomach. How the fuck can he not cum right now? How could anyone not cum when you're on them like this? "Please, I just wanna make you feel good." He whispers.
And how could you ever deny him of his request? With his voice horse like he’d been screaming and his eyes pleading. You bring yourself to his face. His arms hand limp by his sides as if he wasn’t playing with your bra strap two seconds ago. “It’s ok.” You reassure him. He nods. His hands going up to grip your hips, slowly lowering you down onto his face. His tongue already hanging out and read for you. Just like his hard dick still in the painfully tight confines of his pants. He’s so fucking warm and wet. You can barely take the sensation. He starts moving the muscle a second later, giving you no time to adjust for damn great it felt to have him on you. You’ve waited too long for this. Having to control yourself around him and his fucking beautiful face. Him and his stupid body that was so nice all you wanted to do was sit atop it and stay there. His hands and voice that always brought you back to your bed at night. Your roommate was almost never home before you so that gave you the perfect opportunity to get yourself to relax. And also at the same time make him feel just how much of a effect he had on you. You always knew he walks had to have been thin— you could practically hear every other thing the man did on the other side. You always thought that had to be a bad thing. Now you see that it could be just as good.
Even better with how beautifully he responded. Giving you a taste of how he’d sound in person. How he’d be. A melody to your ears and quite the sight to see. In fact, that was exactly what you were thinking as you leaned back, his tongue still working wonders on you just by its slow and steady small mow vents. You could tell Minghao was still just testing the waters. And you’d never dreams of rushing him. No matter how much it felt like he was everywhere you didn’t need him. First on your outer pussy lips. You crying out at his tongue slid up and down your pussy-- rubbing just hard enough in a way he learned that made you clench your fists in pleasure. Then he was dipping the muscle in your needy and clenching hole. You didn’t want to admit it but you didn’t think you ever wanted anything more than to take him in at that moment. You let your hands roam freely on his chest behind your back, stretching your muscles as you felt his soft silky skin run along your finger tips. His tongue runs up and down your folds. It was sloppy, and somehow needy like his kisses. But it still felt like heaven.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head, you can't feel his skin under your palms anymore because of how mind clouding the sensation was. Did he know was he was doing to you? His eyes were watching your face intently, searching for signs you liked whatever he was doing. He grips your hips even harder, but you didn't care about finger nail marks or bruises when he brought you even closer to his face. Now flush against him, his nose bumping your clit in a way that made your head reel. He gets to work on making your cum. It seems as if his only goal he's ever had now is to bring your to your high. It's all he can think about. Sure, his bare torso was shivering under the coolness of your ac but now it was hot as fire under your touch. He dips his tongue into your gaping hole again, liking the reaction your give him more than anything.
"Stick your tongue out?” A mix of a question and a demand, he happily obliges. You rock yourself onto him. His mouth, his lips, and his tongue. Trying to bring yourself to orgasm even faster. Your thighs locking around his head and cutting off most of his hearing. But he didn't mind. Now that he got a taste of you, he'd let you do anything to let him get it again. But why was he thinking of if he'd ever get to have his tongue buried inside your perfect pussy again when he was just getting started? hes going so fast wit you. too fast. he wants to take it slow (as if having oral sex the first time youre together for more than thirty minutes in person is slow) He wants to take it down a notch. So it doesn't end so fast. He needs you so, so fucking much. But he'll be damned if he can't take his sweet time with someone like you.
He takes charge again, running his tongue in circles around your clit. You tug in his hair to bring him closer as his warm palms slide up your back, playing with your bra strap. He brakes concentration on making little kitten licks along your clit for a second. So fucking good but torture still. He takes a brake to look into your eyes. Even fore a second. A frustrated grunt from you is what follows. "What're you doing? Keep going." You pant out. He keeps going, but no faster than before. Kitten licks turn into leisurely tasting your arousal in his mouth. Not stopping until every inch of him is coated in your slick. His lips and chin must be wet by now; he can feel your slick dripping down from his chin to his neck. it might've just been from all the teasing, but you were dripping this much for him? All for him. He thought. Running that sentence in his head no short of a hundred times and almost tasting it in his mouth. Because, wow. he was finally finally here. With you in your bed. Making you moan. He was finally the one who drew those sweet noises out of you. In the same place where he hears you almost every night. But this time it was him making you loose control of yourself and penetrating the walls with your noises. He could finally see you… and hear you in person. He was in heaven. Seeing what your face looked like when you pussy was getting played with.
Another one of your pretty moans spurred him on, quickening his pace because he thinks he'll die if he doesn't get to hear more of you right now. His tongue slides up and down your folds before getting to your clit again, making you let out a sigh of relief when the wet muscle mets your there. He can barely breath with his nose and mouth pressed so tightly up against you like this. But the wet and perfectly soft but stiff enough to make you go crazy. His fingers ghost up your legs, almost tickleing them, making your spread them wider for him. Fuck, he thought, a few mintutes in and he has already in love with your pussy. You scent, your taste. Everything. Not too far off from what he felt around you anwways. Noting new on his part. But this-- him brining you heat closer to his face so he can better lick and suck at you, that was new. But the good kind of new. A type of new that he wanted to always remain. Not something to try out once then never use again. The specail type of new that only makes you burn for more. Thats all he wanted with you-- more more more. Whateve more you were willing to give him he'd happily take.
The tip of his tongue dips inside your hole again, gaining the same reaction as last time he did so: you moaning his name out like a prayer. "Mmh," You pant, "right fucking there" Your hand that was preciously travailing down to undo the buckle on his pants stop abruptly, you, unable to move with his nose rubbing at your clit just right. He licks a long stripe up from your dripping hole, gathering all of your arousal he can on his tongue, to your clit. "You taste--" he bucks his hips up into the air when your warm fingers reach his hips, wanting noting more than to keep going. He knows he looks desperate, but in all truth he is. He really is. He just can't help himself. "Fuck, ah! You're perfect, so fucking perfect baby." He takes a break from eating your pussy so beautifully to look up at you. His dark eyes glossy and hooded, something primal and needy behind them just waiting to burst. And on other times, you would've shoved his face right back into you to get back to work. But this time all you seemed to want to do was to take in his handsome face. Just take a breath and marvel at it for a second or two. He licks his lips. His fucking perfect lips that are wet and messy and blown wider and have plumped up from all the kissing. And from how hard he had bee practically making out with your cunt a second ago.
Your juices are running down his chin but neither of you dare wipe it off. A reminder of how much he wants you, and how much you want him. You wonder how he's this worked up already. You hadn't even touched his dick. But god, did it make you feel powerful. You almost break into a laugh as he pants, one of the things, along with his heartbeat, that are in sync with yours. You don't really remember how it happened, but it did. And you for sure ain't complaining about it. You can almost hear his thoughts asking you what you're laughing about in his eyes. Then, before you can even say another word, he realizes. And in a spur of the moment decision, an act of bravery on his part, he takes your hand that was rubbing comforting circles on the back of your neck into his, making you bring your hand sliding down to his crotch up with it for comfort, he doesn't complain. "You really don't know how fucking good you taste?" He sounds surprised. Nearly addicted.
You've tasted yourself before, everyone has, right? It was definitely a distinct, flavor, but not really anything good or bad. It wasn't disgusting, wasn't delicious. You couldn't really fathom anyone loving it until Minghao. You had an inkling he had a bit of a oral fixation, you'll keep that in mind for next time, you thought. You shook your head no, and without another moments of hesitation, almost as if the world would collapse if he waited another second, he crashes his lips into yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth. He made your taste yourself on him. It still wasn't the best flavor, but something about the whole thing made you wanna cum on the spot. His tongue explored your mouth, coating you with your arousal still on his tongue. He needed you to understand how worked up you got him. How much he loved you taste. He needed it. He brakes the kiss with a whine, leaving you to chase his lips.
But still, more than anything you want him on your heated core. You want to cum. You snake your hands down to the waistband of his pants once more. "God, you're so good." He mumbles against you, the vibrations of his words that really, neither of you really knew what they meant, because, words like that could mean a millions things but also none, but damn did they sound fucking beautiful in his mouth. The vibrations that rattled your core felt so good that your had to stop yourself from sinking into him. You lean forward, your hands now planted where they were on his chest.
Your compose your self, finally, spitting into your palm a couple times. And he’s bucking into noting by the time you slide your hands down the front of his pants. He shivers when you touch his dick. He's so fucking sensitive from behind in the tight confines of his pants he thinks he'll blow any second. You start to pump him, though torturously slow. He groans again, and you pull him deeper into your pussy by his hair. Somehow it looking messed up like this makes him look even more attractive. And at the moment, you're more than done with the notion that you can't think of him like this.
"D-don't tease." He stutters out, barely being able to fucus now that you're touching him like this. He presses out another sound that makes your head reel. How, even though being as distracted as he seems, he's still able to keep a steady pace on licking you to your orgasm you don't know. The feeling of the weight of him in your hands is unmatched by any other you've felt before. By now, no more spit is needed, he's leaking out of the tip of this cock so much (the same one that you're rubbing your thumb over) to the point where he's making his own lubricant. His pre cum seeping in between your fingers and running down your hand as you pump him slowly. You could tell form the beginning that he didn't need much to cum, that he was trying not to for a while now. But you couldn't just have this time with him and not doing something of the sort, right? You'd be a fool not to take the chance and run with it. If Minghao were standing his knees would've already given out a log time ago. A muffled, "don't stop." comes in a plea from his mouth underneath you. "Wouldn't dream of it, angel." You assure him as you pump him faster. He gives a wet kiss to your clit, making your cunt even wetter and messier than before. He rubs his tongue all over your wanting slit.
You grind into his face again, chasing your orgasm. And he whimpers. A sound so delicate you wish you could bottle it up for youserlf and keep it forever. He's leaking like crazy in between your fingers, and groaning into you. His heart is racing like he'd just run for an hour. The sounds that are coming from him tonguing you are driving both of you mad. It's all just so wet and messy. But neither of you would change that for the world, liking it that way. He doesn't care that his pants are sticky and messy and that if he'd pull them back up all he'd be met with is a sopping wet patch on his on the front side of them And you don't care that your sheets are probably going to be ruined after you're done with him. At this moment in time all you two want to focus on is getting the other off. That's it. Plain and simple. His cock twitches in his pants with the next sound of ecstasy you make for him.
And he can't hold it in anymore. He squirms in your grasp, trying to keep himself focused. Senescing he was on the brink of cumming, you pump your palm around him faster, wishing your other hand could help you touch what you could not reach. You're fast and calculated, running your fingers along the length of him just right. The feeling of your hand, smooth as silk on him, is all too much to bare anymore. He shakes and quivers under your touch as he spilled into your hand. Gripping your waist so hard it feels like fire. He's sorry, he really is. Bu the needs something to hold onto while you're making him feel like it was dead and now being brought back to life. He groans into your cunt, never stopping his licking, trying to taste as much of your as he can as he cums. His voice, although muffled, lets out an unmistakable keen. He tries to still himself but the sensation is too much. You squeeze the base of his cock to ease him though his high. And his hands slide up and down your thighs. If he could he'd hold your arm in perfect place where it was. But when you kept it there anyways he felt like he wanted to give you the world. "G-god, thank you baby You're so good." His head can't stop spinning inside him as he spills his seed into your palm. "I-I" He can't speak. It's warm, and messy, and so fucking wet and it's all over your hand and fingers and you're still fucking him with your hand, not bothered by the thick liquid on you. Somehow that only turns him on even more. The wet squelching sounds picked up right back after they started, this time not from him and his desperate tongue.
"Fuck" He pants, his mouth still agape when you roll on him. Much to his dismay. If it were up to him he’d have your perched like royalty on his face for as long as he could. Your pussy blocking off his air supply as before and your thighs locked so fucking right around his head he can’t hear. Just. As. Before. And just as before he’d like to cum along with you in your bed again and again. Your soft sheets already feeling like heavenly clouds to him under his bare back. He's been dreaming of this, writhing in his sleep and waking up annoyed at himself, and at the situation of you not being there when he opens his eyes. He's been dreaming about you touching his cock again and again. Ever since you started letting him hear you at night by yourself, in your bed, fingers doing what you had secretly wanted him to do all this time.
He'd been imagining your moans-- the ones that he'd hear spill from your lips like fine honeyed tea, that he was the one causing you to sound like that and imagining himself just like how he was with you here: you on his face and his sensitive throbbing cock in your palm. He'd imagined himself making you cum and you squeezing the fucking life out of him in return. Making you cum... making your express beautiful sounds because of him and making you feel good. That was another thing on his mind lately. He stopped trying to make it go away, too. Opting to excuse himself from whatever he was doing and running for the nearest bathroom before anyone could see the tent in his pants. Sometimes forgetting to lock the bathroom stall in his rush to relive the tightness in his pants. It's all he can think about. Ever. Your cum on his tongue. What face you'd make. He already heard the sounds. And oh, did he want to hear more of them. The mere thought of it filled him with a sense of renewed vigor.
He spits on your clit, making the whole thing ever slipperier. Allowing him to glide his tongue up and down you even easier. Coaxing another moan out of you. You want to cum right then and there. He's giving you all you need. Everything you ever needed. The extra pressure on you that he's applying makes you wonder if one of those letters you couldnt send got to him about what you liked. he truth was, that, somehow got throughout the haze of pre orgasm bliss you were giving him, each pump of your hand making him more and more hopeful of the pending high that was to come. And sorted through what made you make the most noise. He wants you to feel good. If he just felt that good from just your hand then whatever he's doing must not be enough. He wonders if he's being selfish for a moment, but then you throw head back as your grind into his face, barely any noise of pleasure coming out because of how good it was all feeling. How good he was for you. And he knew he was on the right track.
"Please, I need it." He groans. Sounding more like a beg than he wanted to. "You feel so god." You wonder how he can reduce you to a whisper just from his tongue alone. One things for sure, you didn't wanna stop. "I-" Your shaky voice surprises even you,, "Right there, minghao!" You grip his hair a little tighter. HE can tell that you're close. Though you sounded even better in person when you were about to cum. This time on the flat of his tongue. "Go ahead," You hear from him, "Please baby. Cum on my tongue." Your high comes when your gazes meet-- fiery and sharp with pierced lust, but also wanting and soft enough to look at and just melt. Melt away everything. Strip away anything that was hindering you from feeling this way on him. Because of him. You moan and groan on top of him, not knowing where to look as his tongue works on you still through your orgasm. Never once stopping, wanting noting more than to collect your arousal on his waiting tongue. The pleasure he's still making your feel-- even as the final shock weaves of you still runs through you. Feeling like you body was being pushed and pulled from him and his torturous tongue moving against you. Because of him and what he's done for you.
He finally stops when you literally have no more to give him. But you still feel so fucking wet, dripping, even. Granted, some of the slick was Minghaos saliva coating your folds. But, for once you're spent. Not able to even hold yourself up. You'd talked a big game before this. Before he sunk the first kiss into your neck and ran his tongue up your pussy. You hadn't known how needy you could be until you saw his torso naked and felt the weight of him in your hand. you certainly hadn't expected for him to take so much out of you. But it was a good kind of tired. Not the kind where you wish fore more to be done but you can't give any (though, in all honesty, you wouldn't mind feeling him on you like this a second time.) Not the type of tired where your muscles ached and you felt like collapsing. But all you wanted to do was to fold into him. You felt tired, but no short of satisfied. When it was just you at night. Just you and your fingers and him on the other side of the wall. You could go on for awhile. Wanting, needing him to hear you. You never wanted to stop until you feel asleep. But with him under you like this... you couldn't quite explain it, but you were satisfied with staying close to him for a moment. And you did-- giving you two a minute to recuperate. Somehow it didn't feel forced. Sure, you were at the edge of your seat to continue with him, but you felt nice. Just taking a minute with him.
He guides you down onto his chest, his hand on your back. Warmth fills you like never before. Starting at the middle of your spine where his palm rested like an anchor, and springing forth to your neck and down you legs. Your hand drags itself away from his stomach and glides up his neck to his handsome face. Your head seems to fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. His mind starts to reel with all the possibilities of what could happen next. Who could say something next. What would you say, if anything? Or would you just lead him out your door? What would he say? But most of all, he thought of how it would be if you'd ever do this again. Maybe going further the next time. He'd die a happy man tasting you, but he still yearns to feel you. How he longs to be inside you.
But, for now. He was perfectly happy with just staying like how you two were-- his arms encircling your back and yours flat on his chest. He wants to stay like this. Not just until the both of you have recovered from your orgasms, but he wants to have you like this again and again and make you let out those beautiful noises until your throat is dry and your fingers are sore from gripping onto the sheets and his hair. He sighs contently. "Don't get too sleepy. We're not done yet."
His thoughts of fucking you again had to fall away, along with the taste of you fresh on his tongue. Something he wanted more and more every day, but something he was son beginning to realize he wasn't going to get, having to settle for the memory of it instead, fisting his cock to it-- and the sounds of your fucking moans. Unlike before though, it wasn't just a far away dream that floated to him whenever he heard you on the other side of his wall. IT was something that was a reality for him. Maybe just for a moment. But it was real and it happened. And now that his desire became a reality... all he could think about was how he wanted to feel you on him once more. Now that he got a taste he doesn't know how he survived without you for so long. God, he was so stupid not to have been having you in bed sooner. It was his new favorite thing. never leaving his mind like a good song he'd never get tired of. Now that it was real inside his mind, something that actually happened instead of a hazy image in his mind for him to dream about, he spun constantly with the thought of you. Over and over, never stopping as a thread in his stream of consciousness,. When he goes next door to his apartment later that day, all giddy and closing the door behind him and sliding against it like a person in a romance movie, he thought he'd never experience a better feeling. That was until, even though, just like the sounds you made for each other remained in the others apartment and never talked about, never mentioned until behind separate closed doors, you'd hadnt ended up on top of him or him in your bed like before... that was until you had come over after one of his letters had said something about him going on a date.
He didn't want to, really. But it had been nearly a month and, to his surprise one of his co workers had asked him out and well-- the truth was he did want to turn them down. HE really did. But they were always to nice to him. And besides, you had talked about setting him up with one of your friends. And as both options felt horrible to him, he'd rather not break the news to your own personal friend that he was never going to lust, and find attractive, and want to go out with anyone but you. He'd rather your friend not have to tell you that. He wanted you to be happy with your decision to set him up, and that if you did he wanted it to work out well. And that was why it couldn’t work: even while thinking of being set up with another person he couldn’t dare think of what that person might like about him, hoping they wouldn't be disappointed by him. But he could only think of how you'd feel if something you'd been working hard to set you failed.
This one, (and very much casual sounding by the look of it) date with his co worker didn't have to mean much right? No strings attached, no commitments. He liked the coffee shop they had suggested, and half prince anything sounded good to him. But here you were, in his bedroom. The same place where he had made that dreaded wifi name. The same name that he had tried to change when he go home from your place a couple days ago, and had been trying since. But whatever he did was to to avail. He was glad beyond compare that you hadn't asked for his wifi passcode. At this point he wouldn't even know what to say to cover it up. And it wasn't like this was something containable, either. He'd heard other tenants laugh about the name, agreeing if they were on the same floor or directly bellow you. What he spread about you? He felt like it was wrong more than anything else now. No longer filled with that sense of "what the fuck am i gonna do if they find out?" But now, his worries become background noise as you stand with your back turned to him, rifling through his closet on a mission to find him some "more self respecting clothes than what You described." Or, at least thats, what you told him in the last letter you taped to his door this morning.
He can barely focus when your gorgeous back, the same one he ran his fingers up and down not many nights ago, is turned to him? And how could he focus with well, all of you standing right before him? Trying to help him. Being so lovely and wonderful. True, just like you have always been with him. At least in his eyes. And all for no good reason anyways, because in all honestly he doesn't even like the person much at all. But, given how much time as passed before youve even brough the time you've spent together up. And how the wall is still separating you, maybe this'll help him to stop hanging onto to you. Even if it doesn't go anywhere, because, he's kind of hoping it doesn.t But still, maybe getting a so called taste of someone else to will bring down his want for you. You noticed something is up with your friend when he hasn't responded for a good couple minutes. You wave your hand in front of his face to get his attention. "Hello! Welcome back to the land of the living." You elongate the ends of your first at last words, hoping to make him smile.
For you? Always. Anytime
He rubs a hand over his face then through his hair, messing it up in the process. Did he really not know how much of an effect he was having-- pulling all this shit on you? "I sure don't feel it." He groans. God, it sends a shiver up your back. 95% Percent of it because your friend is sad, the other five percent he well, you hadn't heard his groans in nearly a month and fuck, you wanted to hear them like that again. You shake the memories from you mind as you place another shirt on his dresser into the "yes" pile, coming over to him. He's splayed out on the bed. A sight to see, really. Using his arm as a pillow and a blanket thrown over half of him, at this point mostly just bunching it up and laying on it. "Whats wrong?" you say in a sign songy voice, trying to make light of the situation. He chuckles, thinking you sound way too much like a mother with your eyebrow raised for your own good right now. "Jus' thinking about about why we've already spent thirty minutes on this. I leave in an hour and a half." Because i need more time with you before you go. "NO, really, what's going on in that pretty little head?"
He shrugs, trying to stay nonchalant. It didn't work on you though. He huffs like a child, rolling his eyes like a brat, flopping into his bed. "Just scared about the date." He says, keeping it simple. And yes, he wasn't lying at all. But he definitely wasn't stressed for the reasons he wanted you to think he was. You scoot a little closer to him. God, any closer and you'd practically be sitting on his lap. No, no. He seriously needed to stop before his thoughts became out of hand. Though, he wondered if it was too late for that. He wanted you to think he was beyond excited for the date-- that, other than his outfit he'd been thinking of it for days and couldn't wait. Now, he was thinking of taking the long way and claiming that he fell asleep or forgot his phone or something. But as stressed out as he was about this, he couldn't be an ass about it. So, he was going to try and make it on time. He didn't want to make his co worker think he didn't care about them. Cause he certainly did... like youd care for a cup of coffee so as to not spill it. But you? He cared for you like his own body. Unfortunately, you didn't fall for his see though crystal lies. "Well, yeah, I knew you were scared. But are you sure you should be?" He looked at you in question, fearing he might've just blown his cover, "Shouldn't you be nervous? Maybe even stressed out. Hell I know I would be, you've shown me their picture." You chuckle, he smiles. His eyes shine with glee like they always do when he smiles. Just like his eyes shone as you lay in bed together in peace. His chin on your head made you never want to leave his arms. You playfully nudge him. "As cute as they are..." You dip your head around to meet his gaze. You're leaning down and around and its an awkward looking position but you don't care.
"Really, Minghao, what's the matter?" "I wanna go on this date; I promise--" "Nobody said anything about you not wanting to go?" You say, your eyebrows raised in expectantly as if to tell him, you're not getting away from this question this easily. The truth was, you didn't really want him to go. You'd much rather have the rest of him in bed with you. But up until now you were going to suck it up because it seemed like he was happy about it. Now it seemed he didn't want to go either. "I'm just--" He sighs, running a hand through his hair just for it to go straight back into place, "What if I'm not into them?" He thinks it best to just tell you. I mean, what's the harm? A lot of people aren't into other people. Maybe now, as much as he didn't want you to have to, maybe you could help him come up with an excuse. Maybe you'd just have to give him one. "Sorry, I can't come because my next door neighbor said they're gonna fuck me lmao catch ya later ttyl" You know, better than that. Thats what he wants. Fuck more than anything. Thats why he'd doing this--- not only because youre his friend and he needs someone to unload that heavy feeling he's got onto someone, but also to give you an opening to hand him an excuse to stay. "What if?" You repeat. In a tone that said: tsk, either you do or you don't. "You're right" He sits up as if this just hit him. "I'm not into them. Like, at all." "Isn't that how it's supposed to work when you first start to 'get to know somebody'?" You ask, head tilted like a puppy. He thinks its the cutest thigh he's ever seen. "Yeah, yeah. You go out with them because you like how they've talked to you, three times and the very vague vibe and because they're cute, then you start to be 'into them', into them." He says. "Hao," He perks up at the name, "Looks like you're not too shocked by what I said. You already knew this, or?" You let your sentence trail off for him to answer. Damn you and you being close enough with him to pick up what he was feeling. It was really barely turning out to be in his favor.
"Maybe i wanna do something different with my time." He says, voice low and sultry, looking no where but your soft lips that seemed to be begging and calling for him, inviting him in with ease. "Yeah?" You ask, your voice for once not taunting but rather as soft and whispering--- only for the two of you to hear, no wall in between, "And what might that be?" He answers you with a kiss-- soft as his lips, it is. Sucking on you bottom lips so gently you can't help but moan into his mouth. His teeth grazing it so lightly it almost feels like tickling. Soothing and calming as you press yourself closer to him, hand reaching over to rest on his hip bone. spreading warmth and rubbing where you had previously squeezed nearly a month before. The two piles are messy and unruly on his desk and you had planned on picking them up by now but right now you couldn't care less. Noting else on you mind besides his lips and how needy you felt because of them. Because of him. You pull away, just for a second, to look at him. He's beautiful. Handsome beyond belief, really.
And it doesn’t take but a minute to get him hard against you, tent in his pants pressed on you just as before. Without a second thought you push him further into the bed and he pulls his shirt over his head. You scan his body. And your core throbs with need when you see him. His mouth hangs agape as you rub his skin as sensitive nipples. He bucks up into you in search of some sort of friction. It probably wasn’t the best idea to be doing this. He has a date, for fucks sake. And here he was getting his neck kissed by you. But right now, you didn’t really want to think about that. More concerned with getting his lips on yours again. He whines as he tilts his head into the pillows, giving you more access to his neck. “God, you’re like a dog in heat.” You whisper against his skin. He chuckles and runs his hands down, down, and down until finally stopping at our ass. Resting his hands there. You start kissing down his soft body. He’s so lost in the feeling of you that he doesn’t think to control the endless stream of consciousness running out his brain like water out a open tap. “I’m sorry. I’m so so so sorry” he whisperers, words barely heard over pants and little groans he can’t help but let out. He wants you to know how good you make him feel. Couldn’t be anyone else.
“whatre you sorry for, pretty boy?”
You raise your head a little to meet his eyes, belt discarded on the floor along with this pants. He doesn’t look like he wants for answer. And you know, as hard as he is, he isn’t that close. You stop all movements of kisses and hickys on his thighs that nearly shake with want for you to go where he needs you. He tugs you up closer to his face but your shirt, the same shirt that a second later he’s pushing up so he can kiss you tummy and waistline. And as good as his lips on your hipbones feel, you can tell there’s something wrong. You move his hand away from your shirt pushed up to your bra. He looks up at you. This time with more that just lust in his eyes. And that worries you. He seems scared, begging. Not for you to touch him, though. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling—“ you cut him off. “No, but I think you’re feeling some type of way and you’re not telling me.” You start to worry that he’s having second thought about this. I mean, he was supposed be getting ready for someone else. He turns his head away. “It doesn’t really matter.” He says. You scoff. “You’re a bad liar. Now tell me.” You speak softly, thinking it may be something you did. After a second, he realizes that he needs to speak what’s on his mind. It wasn’t going to do either of you any good if he just stayed quiet about it. “Please don’t be mad…” he says quickly. You raise an eyebrow at him-- quite the funny sight if he wasn't a little scared.
you move a little bit off of him, still staying close to give him room to breath, straightening out your shirt. “But it was me.” You looked confused. God why did you have to look to cute when you’re confused. It was really messing his apology speech up. “I’m sorry but it was be who made that Wi-Fi you’re always talking about. It tried— you won’t believe how much I tired to get it off but it won’t let me.” His constant rambling turns into background noise for you. He was the one who did that? All this time he was the one who made you worried that you might get evicted because of noise complaints? “Now, I didn’t completely mean it in a bad way! It’s just, well, i-I hear you?” Why was that a question? Either he did hear you and he liked it like how you wanted, or all this time he’d been putting on headphones and canceling your noise for him out. Shit. Did this have anything to do with our nice he was to you? You felt like you were dreaming. Was the serious? He couldn't have, right? I mean, it wasn't like you were particularly hurt, contrary to popular belief because the guy was still rambling on in front of you. You had to grasp his arm tightly to get him to stop. "huh?" He wonders aloud. "Listen, I have no fucking idea why you'd do that, but I don't hate you for it." You start to laugh,
"In fact, it's even kinda funny." His eyes are questioning, inquisitive, wondering if you really mean what you say. "I was pretty drunk... Not like thats an excuse." He said, still sensing how you must've still felt a little miffed. "I think its my time to ask you whats the matter." He puts a hand on your thigh, trying and succeeding in being comforting to you, when a not so comforting silence falls over the two of you. "...None of this was for some sort of compensation, right?" You ask, feeling your stomach sink, not with the anticipation of what would come after his feverish kisses to your hot skin, but now because... what if he couldn't answer that? What if it took him a minute? That was how you'd know this whole thing wasn't a rooze-- a plan to make you think that it wasn't him. In your heart you knew he wouldn't. As little as youve known him and as much as he was a drama queen, Minghao couldn't do something like that. Not to you, not to anybody.
Y/N!" He genuinely sounded hurt by the even mere suggestion. Then, realizing that, well, he didn't have the right words at the time and that, even if he did words alone might not do much. He gets up with a rush. "Wait, here." He nearly runs out the door, almost forgetting his shirt. "Hao--" You chuckle. Why does he seem so excited ? You wonder. But, just like with everything, he was a wonder. He peeks his head back into the room, reaching for his clothes with a shy smile up at you. His whole face seems to brighten. The last thing you hear is the faint clicking of his belt as he hurries out the bedroom door. He rushes back in the same way he came. But now holding a letter. "I wanted to give you this earlier. But this seems like a better time than anything." He explained, "with the date and everything... I just figured it would look stupid." You open the letter and start to read, it looked half finished. But the paragraph inside tells you all you need to know. In synopsis: he views as someone very special in his life. He cherishes you to the ends of the earth. And with what he's written down, it only solidifies how he'd never do anything to hurt you. Your head starts to turn up before you're even done reading. "Listen I was never that concerned--" "Just like old times--" you both say at the same time. "Sorry, I've been thinking about saying that since I started writing it." He mentions. "I thought so." You said. God, how do I know you so well. He knows he's written something else, but he also know sees you haven't read it yet. He doesn;t say anything, though, preferring to leave you to find it on your own when you're ready. He gestures to you like; and you were saying? "Hao," A feel good shiver runs up his spine at the nickname, "I never was that concerned with it. Sure, it stung a little to know that someone complaining about my apartment." He starts to say something, but you cut him off.
"And I know you're sorry. And I've heard horror stories about your wifi provider before." He smiles at you, beath calming down, not sounding like he's run a race as a second ago. He looks unreal. Other worldly, even. So fucking beautiful. You can't think of another word to describe him. Every single one you've tried seems to be a little off. You werent expecting such an actual explanation. And he didnt just leave it at: "Well, I was drunk so you can't blame me." His actually made sense, too. And, from his track record, and even from today. You could tell he was telling you the truth. One look into those deep brown eyes and you knew that if he had the power to he wouldve long changed it. And if he wasn't drunk he wouldn't have made it. "But there's one thing I don't know... I knew you were drunk, but, anything you'd like to tell me that spurred this on?" You sit there, pulling his body towards yours, starting to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. It was on backwards. He shivers as your fingers graze his heaving stomach. "Yeah." HE says simply, "But not how you think!" You chuckle. "What?" You question, "You don't mind the loud music? So... is there, anything else?" You say it like there could be anything in the world that caused him to make a jab at how "loud your apartment is." "Your noise." HE looks into your eyes, referencing how you'd make yourself cum every night. So close but way to far away from him. He wanted to start rambling about how he doesn't mean tot hear it... but, it looked like, but your smirk you wanted him to. You wanted him to get riled up and desperate for hearing you in person. And thats just what he was. "I'm glad you've finally said something about that. Looks like I've accomplished what I wanted for the year." You breath out a laugh.
So he has unsent letters just like you? You think back to your drawer of your nightstand or the shoebox by your desk. There lay, dormant and gathering dust, all unsent letters. Letter deemed a little too early in the friendship to send, letters describing dreams or thoughts youve had of him where he's been gripping your hips as you rock on hid dick, him begging you for release as you chase your own orgasm, even one letter asking him a stupid question about some show you bother watched, you remembered the answer soon after and diced to start a new one on a fresh sheet on paper. But you still kept it and held onto it like it was a precious gem. Your fingers stop their teasing movements the waistline of his pants and tell him to wait there, same thing he told you. You come back with letters, you more than him. His eyes tell you he's interested. But also: "hold on, you too?" He reads them and smile each time he turns to another. Making little remarks and comments here and there. "You know, there's something else in mine as well." He says, flipping to one of the last ones-- the ones with detail after detail of your conscious when it came to him. About how you wanted to have him and what you wanted him to do to you in your bed. Or his, it didn't really matter as long as it was with you. "Fine. Read the rest of mine though." You say, wanting, no, needing him to know what you thought of him when he wasn't beside you. You eyes flicker down to the arrow to the font of the letter in your lap. You flip it around to see his number, clear as day, staring at you in your face. (With a little note that says: how come we never did this before?) and a little, delicate sketch of the first flower pressing he'd ever given to you whine you mentioned something about them neither of you can really remember. You pressed the note onto your thighs, smoothing it down.
"You know i never minded when you sent me pressings, right?" There was noting to make you think he was about to ask, but something told you it was in the back of his mind. He nods, barely listening as he read the letter about the dream you had about fucking him like both of your lives depend on it.
And with the growing need on your pants it sure felt like it did.-- You call his name a couple times but to no avail. “come back down to earth, angel. I’m not done with you yet” you climb back onto his lap
A second later his lips are on yours. "Fuck," He whines, "You really wanna do all that to me?" He doesn’t sound repulsed at all, he now craves the thought, desire pools in his stomach for him to feel you. All of you. Wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock like how you described. He leans on top of you, making you push down into his plush bed, his mouth more eager than the first two times. You didn't; think that was even possible. You pull away, him left chasing the feeling of your lips on his. It felt so god he'd be happy if he died there. "Call them to cancel?" You beam. A moment after he sends them a quick apologetic text, here he is, grinding into your thighs, trying to fuck himself on the pillowy flesh you so lovingly provide for him. “what is it angel? You wanna be inside me?” You ask him, smiling to yourself as he nods, gulping. Your lips are ghosting over his as you slide down on him. His fingers are inside of you and making you cum in an instant when you drop your pants. Curling and pumping just how you said he did so in your dream. And the instant his cock has sprung out of his pants, ready and waiting for you, you're starting to move in a way that makes you feel like heaven is in your grasp as he swallows your moans with a kiss.
“G-god I—“ his words are cut short as he bucks his hips up into you. The stretch you feel inside your cunt feels fucking amazing. Noting like ever before. lips hovering against his once more as you start slow movements on him, the force of them still making you move from his mouth to his eyes. Slower, now but deep as ever. HE runs his hand up your back, his brain too foggy to think to take off your shirt fully like his-- to match him, fully naked in his bed. It's something he's been dreaming about ever since he first heard you moaning from the wall behind him. even though the condom he can feel every inch of you. You’re so warm and wet and so fucking tight and slippery-- the way he glides in and out of you, always drawing pleasured sounds from the both of you drives him so crazy he can barely take his eyes off of his cock disappearing into your pretty pussy over and over again. fascinated by how a ring of your slick starts to form around his cock, sticky and thick. He wants noting more than to see you lick it off of him. Or for him to get a taste. You fuck yourself on him, not like he wants anything else. He rubs circles on your back, your thighs bare as he grips onto them to ground himself. Your hands fault against his chest for leverage, you seem to never tire of the delicious feeling of him. "What're you sorry for?" You ask him, leaning down to his earlobe and nibbling it. Almost as a reminder of how stupid it all is, you chuckle at his inability to speak when you squeeze his cock particularly tight.
The thought had long done turned into a desire, and you couldn’t have imagined a better action for you two to take.
End~
~before you interact, as with all my other smut posts, please put an age indicator in your bio saying you’re not a minor so I don’t have to block you!~
2023copywrightofshutupheathersorryheather©️ do Not repost my work anywhere, translate it, or anything like that even if you give me credit, no one is anyone allowed to do what is stated above
thank you all so much for readin!! Please leave some love like comments and or reblogs if you liked this! Also I will be coming in to edit this a little very soon so I’m sorry if it’s not good at the moment
@jasminexox5 @impuritywritings @jjjzzz @zozjella @mimisxs @itz-yerin @toorauz @daechwitabaddie
(if youre username isnt underlined im sorry that i couldn't tag you! im not sure why but sometimes with tagging it doesn't show up) If you'd like to be a part of my permanent smut and or fluff taglist please comment on this post! if youd like to be a part of my smut taglist please have something in your blog bio telling me youre not a minor thank you! the previous action is not necessary if you want to only be a part of my fluff masterlist. So please specify which one
#minghao smut#seventeen smut#svt smut#minghao fluff#minghao#seventeen#svt#ghosts writing#the8#minghao x y/n#Seventeen x poc reader#minghao x poc reader
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FINISHED IT :DDDDD
it’s my first time drawing “insane” or “obsessive” facials like these so hope I did it justice lol.
I’ll work on mitarai’s full remnant design soon :00
The main stuff I’ve got in mind for Despair!Mitarai atm is these:
• Most of the stuff from Despair Arc ep. 1-early 8 still happened! Mitarai is tricked and gives Junko the tips on making subliminal messaging in videos and works on her brainwashing video, then Mukuro kidnaps Mikan and she gets somewhat brainwashed offscreen, and then Mitarai discovers the truth and tries escaping (but to no avail before Komaeda and Chiaki arrive). But instead of forcing him through blackmail (which I think she still does), she then decides to test her work on Mitarai himself - and though he surprisingly does try to put up a fight against succumbing (he does know how the subliminal works after all), Junko ends up using both the video and implanting doubts and the like into Mitarai’s head (alongside an unstable Mikan possibly) which spirals him even further (and possibly bringing that reserve course student that saws his head off in episode 9 - only this time it’s Mitarai witnessing it and not Yukizome) until he just eventually breaks and succumbs. So when Komaeda and Chiaki find him… he’s already gone.
• His behavior is pretty similar to Mikan, fully infatuated and obsessed with Junko to an unhealthy degree
• He uses his skills in animation and creating subliminal to constantly overwork himself and create many animations dedicated to Junko and/or despair to brainwash anyone who stumbles upon it. I think he also makes the suicide video that was used on some of the Future Foundation members in DR3 Future Arc and on the Reserve Course.
That’s all I got for now! Any other ideas or suggestions for this lil guy is appreciated :))
Here’s a happy Despair!Mitarai for your troubles :)
#danganronpa#remnants of despair#danganronpa au#danganronpa 3#ryota mitarai#mikan tsumiki#mukuro ikusaba#izuru kamukura#junko enoshima#despair!mitarai#remnant mitarai#remnant ryota mitarai#despair ryota mitarai#remnants of despair au#despair arc#my art <3
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Okay, so I've decided to do Fic Rec Fridays at the end of the month now that I've been keeping a fanfic reading log. Guys. I've read A LOT of fic this month. 😅 Okay so I think the best thing is to organize this by rating and then word count. Please note that this is a pure reading log so I'm just listing fic, author, and small "what it's about".
For August I Read:
397,333 Words
20 Fics
17 Authors
Rating G:
AU-gust Mashups by @ahufflepuffhobbit- Short BOTFA fix-it with an ill-timed confession. Let's face it, this is how we all wanted to see BOTFA end.
Love Makes You Blind by thorinsbeard- Small little oneshot where Bilbo thinks Thorin is blind and can't stop staring. It had me rolling when Thorin told Bilbo he's an underwear model.
Mr Underhill's Finest Seafood Specialities by @nocompromise-noregrets- Oneshot from Frodo's POV as famous food critic, Thorin Oakeshield, arrives as his uncle's restaurant. All the interactions between the characters were fun as well as seeing Bagginshield through Frodo's eyes.
Teach Me Your Ways by airebellah- Multi-chapter story with refugee Thorin struggling through English, but he meets Bilbo who accepts him as he is. Honestly, super fluffy fic with lots of family moments that I really wish there was a sequel, but accept it as is.
Rating T:
Drawn by thorinsbeard- Oneshot where Bilbo stumbles upon some NSFW versions of himself in another cafe patron's sketchbook (in an uncreepy way). Will hope and anticipate a smutty sequel.
Prize Enough for Me by StrivingArtist- Two-shot with Bilbo chasing after Azog after believing he killed Thorin to enact his revenge. I'm always here for some BAMF Bilbo.
When Darkness Shines Brightest by @lordoftherazzles- Multi-chapter Hades/Persephone take. The introspection of Thorin's character blows me away in this fic.
Rating M:
How to Beat Gold Sickness by Epoxide- Cute oneshot where Fili and Kili decide that announcing that Bilbo is pregnant with Thorin's child will shake the gold sickness. Now I just need the sequel where Bilbo says that it's actually true.
Dating Blind by badskippy- Jealous waiter Thorin does sabotages Bilbo's blind dates. This was just perfect, and yes, Thorin does make up for it.
Sparks & Gardens by @fantasyinallforms- Down on his luck Thorin manages to get the best deal of his life when he becomes gentleman Bilbo Baggins handyman. Look, regency is normally not my taste, but this fic does such a good job of just making that the setting and not necessarily the theme (if that makes sense).
The Kitchen Thief by @mordellestories- Multi-chapter Tolkien AU (?) where Thorin still has dwarven blood but can get by with appearing as a human baker in a time where anyone else is treated with discrimination. I will forever be laughing at Bilbo's "oh no, it's the nutty baker" comment.
Stranded by @tickles-ivory- Multi-chapter AU where Thorin and Bilbo live in separate universes but find each other. Honestly, super cute concept and execution with fun "slice of life" chapters at the end.
My Love's a Noble Madness by silverneko9lives0- Bilbo works at an insane asylum where Thorin is a patient who thinks he's in love with him. Okay, I have to say that the tags on this had me scared for A LONG time, but there's actually 0 non-con after Thorin gets medicated and you find out the fucked up situation they find themselves in the beginning is all Azog/Sauron/Melkor's fault.
Rating E:
Look At You by thorinsbeard- Bilbo uses the ring to sneak into Thorin's room, accidentally witnessing the dwarf king masturbating. This fic is so hot and honestly another that I would 100% read a sequel for.
Evening Interlude by paranoid_fridge- Bilbo and Thorin have an evening to themselves for bondage fun. Seriously though, if you're wanting a fic with some heavy bondage kinks, this is the perfect fic.
If You Lend a King a Hand by Cranbear- Bilbo assists Thorin out in the woods, and they have come to an understanding regarding future engagements. Look, I just know this fic is going to checkmark some kinks for me and dom!Bilbo is just an added bonus.
Through the mist (I find you) by @consultingpacha- Thorin has developed amnesia after the events of BOTFA, and Bilbo returns to discover this as well as the fact that he's engaged. Guilty smut and angsty feelios galore (though we are promised a happy ending)!
Fuck Thy Neighbor by @lordoftherazzles- Thorin and Bilbo accidently got married in Bree after one drunken mistake and have now ended up as next door neighbors. This is the type of romcom shenanigans that I am 100% here for, featuring Roac tormenting Lobelia in this newest chapter!
Unrated:
the legend by Ineedtherapy (gethelp)- Bilbo thinks he's still banished and the Company thinks he's dead, and once this misunderstanding comes to light, Bilbo decides to travel with the returning caravan from Ered Luin. Bilbo probably dragged this out longer than necessary, but we're finally to the point where he reveals himself, and I need to know what happens next.
#sunny recs it#the hobbit#bagginshield#honestly i was a little shocked because this has been a bit of a busy month for me#no wonder i can never update on time...
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🎁🎁🎁 Static and Snow
A SNEAKRET SANTA GIFT DRABBLE
A/N: Merry December and Happy Holidays, everyone! I posted briefly about this earlier today, but I have been sneakily working on some drabbles as gifts for the holidays, and since it’s officially December now, I am going to start putting them under the tree. These are my way of giving back to some of the lovely content creators here whose work brings me joy. I tried to personalize them a little bit for each person they’re dedicated to, but they’re just as much my gift to anyone who has ever shared their work or who has ever read mine. Thank you for being lovely <3
Gift Tag: @insomniamamma - Who had this to say when I asked “Ezra or Nico” - “Ok, SATAN! Seriously, this may be the hardest ask I've ever gotten.” - In the end, though, the answer was Ezra, and I chose the prompts fuzzy socks, books & silence to go along with him. J, your Prickle AU is one of my very favorites. Thank you for sharing it - along with all of your other incredible writing. Wishing you a very happy holiday season - I hope you enjoy your sneakret santa gift!!
WC: 1,238
Warnings: none. it’s a fluff.
Ezra sits in the oversized armchair in the corner with his book propped in his lap, lips parted and brow creased in concentration as he reads some novel about Ephratian pirates and a Karoclan warrior. He only started it that morning, plucking it from one of the bungalow’s teeming shelves, but he’s already more than half-way through it. Occasionally the phantom fingers of his right hand twitch when it’s time to turn the page. Despite nearly two years passing since he parted ways with the limb, he still has urges to use it.
I wonder if that sensation will ever fade away completely or if I’ll be forced to fight it off forever.
He does his best to ignore it for now, reaching - still a little clumsily - with his left hand to slip a finger beneath the sheet of paper so he can flip it and continue to read. But before he can submerge himself in the story once more, the crunchy sound of static cuts through the music playing softly in the background - old holiday tunes he hasn’t heard in decades suddenly tinged with crackling white noise.
Must be the weather, he muses. The snow had finished falling a few hours ago, but the temperature continued to plunge, freezing signal towers and satellite dishes, muting the world with cold. Ezra shrugs more deeply into the thick brown sweater he wears. He prefers to be warm. Prefers Lao and the Ephrate and even Central to anywhere where he has to layer up against the chill. He’s spent too much time in bulky suits, worrying about what could happen if the fabric were to tear to be comfortable this bundled up.
If he had his druthers, he’d much rather be bathing his bare skin in the rays of whichever star was on the rise in Kamrea.
The song on the radio cuts in and out so much that he can’t even tell which one it is anymore. With a sigh, he tucks his bookmark - a tattered ticket stub from his first Cirian Prime shuttle flight, the one where he met you - against the spine to hold his place, and sets the book down to deal with the frost ridden radio. “Think it’s time to-”
His words melt on his tongue as he looks up though, the sight across from him making him forget about the cold entirely. Oh, Kevva. I’ll never understand how or why a man like me stumbled upon luck like this but I am not fool enough to question it.
You and Cee had both fallen asleep on the couch, the girl’s head tilted close to your shoulder but not quite resting on it, a heavy orange blanket tossed over the two of you, and your books discarded in your laps. There is one tufted ottoman that both of you share, the two of you wearing matching pairs of fuzzy Cardovian wool socks to cover your feet, yours crossed at the ankles and Cee’s flopped outward. She has her hood pulled around her ears so that only a few strands of her blonde hair are visible around her cheeks, still reddish pink from the time spent outside earlier, when she’d been in pure awe of the icy wonderland around her.
You gave this to her, Comet. Ezra’s eyes shift over to your face and his chest swells as he thinks back to the night when you first brought the trip up.
“What about Itho?” You’d asked the question one night while you and Ezra finished dinner in your small apartment.
He’d narrowed his eyes as he chewed, consciously telling himself to pick up his napkin with his left hand instead of his absent dominant one. His eyebrow quirked up as he finally succeeded in wiping his mouth without issue. “Itho?” You nodded as he swallowed and tried to figure out where you were headed. “I don’t know, Comet, what about Itho?”
“Well,” You bit your bottom lip and set your fork down on the edge of your plate. “What if we… the three of us… what if we spend Cee’s winter break on Itho? I have some banked shuttle credits we can use for the trip, and Dezi already said she’d trade routes with me so I can have the whole week off. Her brother knows someone we could rent a bungalow from and...” You shrugged. “What do you think?”
He dropped his napkin back to the table and reached across it for your hand, your fingers sliding easily between his. Speaking your name, he gave you a squeeze. “Are you sure you want to-”
“Ezra.” You cut him off with a laugh and a shake of your head, lifting his hand up to your lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Yes, I’m sure. She’s gonna be sixteen soon and she said that she’s never seen snow, and-”
He got up from his seat then, walking around the small table to pull you to your feet and against his body, a startled sound escaping you as he wound his arm around your torso. “I think Itho sounds perfect.” Dropping his lips to the top of your head, he smiled into your hair. “Birdie is going to be thrilled when you tell her.”
He rises slowly from his seat so he doesn’t wake either of you, and turns to switch the radio off. The silence of the settled storm rushes in to fill the room, but he doesn’t seek to fill it immediately like he once might have. Getting used to the quiet is like getting used to the loss of his arm - on the Green, silence is deadly. If nothing comes in through the comms but static, it means that he’s on his own. But as he looks across the small room and sees the two people he cares about most in the universe, as he listens to the silence that acts like an extra blanket over everything, he sees that that isn't the case.
He’s known it for some time now, but this trip - ice and all - seems to solidify it in ways he can’t quite explain. I love you, Comet. And Cee does, too.
Cee’s book finally slips from her slack grasp and hits the carpeted floor with a muffled thunk that she sleeps through. The slight disturbance is enough to make you stir, though, your eyes fluttering open as you inhale through your nose. You smile down at the girl beside you before looking over at him, cheeks rising higher as your sleepy smile spreads. Clearing your throat, you carefully untuck yourself from the blanket and shuffle the few steps to where Ezra is still standing, your socks picking up a charge from rubbing against the carpet. You rise on your toes to bump your nose against his, a little zap of electricity where your skin touches his. “Bed?”
It’s just one word but it reaches down into his chest and swirls around his heart. It’s just one word and it’s one you utter to him almost on a nightly basis back home. But it’s one he knows he’ll never tire of hearing, one that gives him a sensation he knows with certainty will never fade.
He looks into your eyes as you bring one hand up to card through his hair, combing the increasingly shaggy locks back and away from his face, and he nods before kissing your palm. “Bed.”
.
.
.
Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from my taglist, please feel free to let me know by sending a message or by filling out the form on my masterlist :)
tags: @something-tofightfor @alraedesigns @pheedraws @shoopidly @fific7 @valkblue @cannedsoupsucks @tobealostwanderer @paracosmenthusiast @gracie7209 @dihra-vesa @marauderskeeper @disgruntledspacedad @novemberrain221 @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @stevie75 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @swtaura @thescarletfang @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns
#sneakret santa 2022#ezra x female reader#ezra (prospect) x female reader#ezra (prospect) fic#ezra x you#ezra x reader#ezra (prospect)#cee (prospect)#happy holidays!!#static and snow#pedro pascal character#pedrostories
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Hello! I'd like to make a request.. I need. So I wanted to have a Phobos x Reader done, and I have some small details I'd like for the reader personality, and I'd really enjoy a story with angst! The personality is bold, willing to take risks, but does it to the point of being too reckless, and wouldn't want to be loyal to anyone. This includes Phobos. Other than this little detail everything is free game! Hope this isn't too major of a request though c:
the man, the myth, the legend, the fruit rollup
not at all bestie! Im not really in the mood for angst but I can try my best for u <3/p
Just letting you know there will be fluff somewhere in this, u know me
Midway writing Mask: holy fuck this is long, the rest of the fic will be under the cut!
===================================
Daring - Phobos x Reader // [fic | angst/comfort?]
Its been a good few months since you met the Director, you met him in a battlefield.. well- sort of-
He was taking a small stroll when you bumped into each other, he heard a bit of quiet struggle coming from an alleyway, curiosity taking the best of him, he sneaked over to investigate
Upon peeking in the alleyway, you and two thugs were fighting, you had just accidentally stumbled upon something you werent meant to see, and the first instinct they had was take you off the face of the earth
You didnt back down a single turn, as much as they had done a number to you, eventually you took both of them down by smashing their heads hard together, both falling unconscious on the hard cement floor
As you took a moment to catch your breath, you spotted the Director's red goggle staring right at you
You stepped back as he made himself more visible by walking into the alleyway, clenching your jaw and balling your fists, you knew who he was, of course you did, his 'face' is all over the city
But that wasnt going to stop you from fighting if things went south
"I must say, I am impressed by your resistance to those two." He spoke, voice echoing through the mostly empty alleyway
"your fighting could use improvement, however." With a smirk behind his bandaged mouth, he held back a chuckle
You sneered, face scrunched up in annoyance as you wiped the blood off your mouth with the back of your hand
"what do you care? Dont you have important matters to attend to?"
"shut your mouth, peasent, and know your place." In a blink, he was right in front of your face, roughtly grabing your chin to force you to look up at him before shoving your head back
You grunted as you hit the scraps behind you, annoyance becoming anger, you got back on your feet
"what? the grand Director doesnt know how to mind his own business?~" you mocked, a smirk growing on your face as you glared
"Daring, are we?" His tone darkened as he loomed over you, you crossed you arms "you clearly dont know who you are talking to."
"oh no, I do, I just dont give a shit." You simply stated as you tried to step around him to leave, but suddenly he grabbed your arm, and threw you to the wall, you yelped with a hiss by the impact
When you looked, he was looming over you again, arms placed on the wall beside your head, making both of your faces be extremely close
"oh but you should care, I could kill you right here right now and no one would do anything about it."
"do it. You wont." You glared as you leaned forward a bit, the movement made Phobos' head reel back slightly
The tension around you both was think enough to cut with a knife, neither of you broke the eye contact for what felt like hours, soon enough, Phobos scoffed
"You're too daring, that'll get you in bigger trouble one day."
"I like taking risks."
"your risks are dangerous."
"why do you care?"
"I dont-"
"then why are you trying to scold me?"
That managed to make him reel back a bit again, speechless, you had a point but he wasnt going to back down..
".. I am not 'trying', I AM scolding you."
"yeah but why? Im not a child."
"you sure act like one."
"says the man with cape so long it almost trails on the ground-"
"Shut. Your. Mouth."
"shut me up then."
Your retorts were... Amusing, to him, sure, its a bit annoying but this was quite entertaining, he dwelled in his thoughts, so many ways to make you shut up without killing you... How could he chose one?
No one was around anyway, so his image wouldnt be damaged if he did anything... He focused back on you, quickly placing a hand on your mouth and the other pressing your abdomen againt the wall so you couldnt flail as easy
You were a bit shocked, he actually shut you up, you didnt think he had the nerve, but now youre stuck, bickering didnt seem like such a good idea now that you thought about it. Your hands gripped his wrist, trying to pry his hand off your mouth, useless, how is his grip so steady??
".... Your arguments are childish... But your attitude is of steel, you could prove useful within Nexus Core.."
You could only glare at his stupid bandaged face, growling under your breath "say, why dont you join me? Become an agent, be respected.. win power? Of course it'll pay you very well too."
You struggled within his grasp, finally, he uncovered your mouth, his hands returned to it's previous spots on the wall
"... Thank you for considering me for this position. Unfortunately I can’t accept the proposal right now, maybe if I decide to be loyal to some faction for once I'll consider it."
And as quick as you said that, you ducked, slipped below his arms and out of his trap, making your way out of the alleyway while wiping the dried blood off your face.. damn you really needed some ice
You left the Director there, genuinely too stunned to speak, no one has ever left him like this, or turned down a power offer... Are stupid or up to something? He couldn't tell.. whatever, you loss, dont come crying to him when you need a job
Which leads you to current times, you both bumped into each other a few more times across these months, you both still butted heads a little, snarky remarks and small comments everyone around you both flinched to, and where extremely surprised when the Director did nothing but retort it, usually he'd behead anyone who said such things
Yet, he seemed to humor you, not even the Director seemed to know why he did so, since upon carefully asked, he would always take a moment to think and then shrug it off, ordering the person not to ask about it again. some began spreading a few rumors
'do you think they're together? Like, dating-'
'thats the only logical solution, why would the director not killed them for saying those things?'
'what if they're old friends?'
'what if they're family?'
They spread like fire in dry grass
It was oddly enervating to walk around and hear a few whispers about you and the Director's relationship, you sighed, sipping on the boba tea you had just gotten, keeping a few of the pearls in your mouth and took out the straw on your drink, you turned the the whispering grunts behind you, aiming with the straw in your mouth and shooting the pearls at them
It was hilarious, the pearls struck to their clothes and faces, they panicked at the sudden feelings and frantically patted themselves, you chuckled and shoved the straw back in its hole
A waste of pearls, but a worth it one. You sipped your drink again as you began making your way to the local park, maybe just relaxing on a bench will get you some peace
Passing by an alleyway, you caught something from the corner of your eye, you quirked a brow as you looked into the alleyway, too dark to see anything... Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on yo-
Hands grabbed your arms from the darkness, pulling you into the shadow filled alleyway, you dropped your drink and it splattered on the ground, the only sign that your were even standing there at all
You struggled against the grip, freeing one of your arms and punching the unknown figure, fight or flight kicking in as you frantically tried to free yourself from the person, a smart idea would be screaming, but that could only attract more of this figure's friends
And you were right, for the most part, you felt more hands grab you, restraining you as much as you struggled
"who the hell are you?! What do you want-!!" You yelled, kicking and flailing, however, the only response you earned was hits. They punched your chest once you yelled, you chocked, coughing and wheezing for air knocked out of you, they continued to beat you up;
.
.
.
Phobos was one yet another stroll around his precious city, fresh air is good for you, after all.
As he walked along the sidewalk, he was lost in his thoughts, why did he put up with your attitude?... It was confusing to him, he never put up with that kind of attitude until you came along
You were... Interesting... Daring... No one's ever been so... Reckless, to say such things to him...
Your challenging tone.. your stupid smug grin.. playful glare whenever you decided to snark at him.. the way you crossed your arms and raised your head, not only to look up at him, but as if to say 'I win this argument'... It drove him crazy
He sighed aggravatedly, how dare you cause such an effect on him... What did you do to make him feel this way? Were you a Magiturge and cursed him or something? Why did he feel warm whenever you looked at him? Why did he feel so flustered when you spoke in that- smooth stupid little tone you did when retorting him??
Was he dying???-
The feeling of stepping into something soft and wet snapped him out of his thoughts, he didnt step into dog shit while he wasnt paying attention, did he?
Looking down, he noticed those where boba pearls and tea... He had just cleaned these boots, god damnit..-
His head snapped to the alleyway beside him, hearing the faint sound of grunting and gasping, along with the sound of fists punching something
Once again, curiosity gets the best of him, the sounds sound far, must be deep into the corner... He takes cautious steps in, surprisingly quiet for someone so huge
At this moment he's glad he asked for his goggle to have a night vision mode to it when he did, pressing a small button on the side of his goggle, he blinked as his vision got adjusted to the green hues
At the end of the alleyway, he saw a group of grunts beating up another, restrained by two others, now thats unfair. He turned his head away before he had to double take, looking back- wait... That was you..!
.
... Oh...
Within seconds, he found himself running full speed at the one punching you, charging a puch at the guy, who went flying by the impact and into a wall, his friends who weren't holding you attempted to stab him, he dodged quickly, taking out his sword and beheading them just as quick, turning to the two retraining you, he yanked one by the head and threw him across the alley, they other was stabbed through the chest as they attempted to run away
Oh now that just wont do...
He breathed heavily, fists clenched as he came down from the small adrenaline rush, hearing a soft thud and heavy breathing near him, he looked over, calming down slightly at seeing you just fell from your standing position... He sheeted his sword again
Jesus... The really did a number on you...
Meanwhile, you were internally freaking out, you gasped for the air previously knocked out of you, you wouldnt be able to fight too well in your state if whoever this new figure was tried to kill you
You felt them kneel in front of you, you looked up quickly, just to be met with a bright red light... You knew that light...
"... Ph- Phobos?-.." you chocked out, strained from the pain, you saw the glow of his goggle highlight a few of his own features in the darkness, parts of his bandages and helmet slightly in view, as well as your own face from him looking at you
"yes... I am here, [Name].. my stars, they really fucked you up, havent they?.."
You let out a strained laugh "no shit.. Sherlock..." You said, wiping the blood from your nose with your hand
You felt his hand brush a strand of your hair off your face, your breath hitched as you snapped your attention back to him
Your eyes met, for a few moments, it felt like you werent just beat to pulp, it felt like only you and him existed as his hand lingered on your cheek, you subconsciously leaned into his touch, his hand was so warm...
"... What... Are you doing...?"
He didnt answer, only wiping the blood seeping from the corner of your lips, you felt your blood rush to your cheeks with a strained inhale
You soon felt your eyes heavy, you struggled to keep conscious. Noticing this, he gently picked you up bridal style, that waked up up a bit more
"wh-.. what are you.. doing-..." You weakly gripped the hem of hi cape, feeling being to high off the ground you slightly feared falling, even if he wasnt going to let you fall
"getting you to a medic." He simply responded, and began walking out of the alleyway, you sighed, slightly pushing his chest
"I can- I can walk.." you insisted, he stopped, deadpanning down at you
"you can barely hold yourself awake, I dont buy that." he said in a monotone, then continued walking, you groaned, giving up and just leaning your head on his shoulder, keeping your breathing steady as you relaxed... You felt safe... He was so warm...
You nuzzled into him and closed you eyes, he gently poked your arm with one of his hands
"dont pass out now. I want you alive."
You hummed, looking tiredly up at his glowing monogoggle
"what'd'you mean 'want me alive'..? What'd'ya want me for...?" He seemed to tense slightly, and just kept quiet, you figured he had no answer to that, too tired to argue, you just hummed again and relaxed, sighing quietly... A nap wont be so bad right..?
He wont notice... Right?... You closed your eyes, and almost immediately gave into unconsciousness...
.
.
.
.
You slowly fluttered your eyes open, groaning at your sore body and bright lights in the room you were in... Where even are you?-
You tried to sit up to look at your surroundings, though you felt a hand pushing you gently back down
"dont sit up, you need to rest."
Oh.. yeah, Phobos.
You looked to your side, low and behold, there he is, looming over you with his height as always, you gave him a confused dazed look, he took his hand off once you were fully laying down again and leaned back on the chair he sat on beside your bed, he let out an aggravated sigh
".. do you know the scare you gave me?"
You blinked
"you almost gave me a heart attack when you passed out.. I thought your heart actually gave out..." He spoke in a cold and monotone tone, almost as if holding back anger, or any other feeling from seeping into his words... It kind of squeezed your heart
"d'aww.. was little Phooby worried about me?~" you mocked weakly, a grin on your face with a small laugh, he grumbled, lightly pinching your arm
"do not call me that." You giggled again, he sighed "even after being beaten to pulp, you still have your childish behavior...do you know what that was about?"
"hm? The weirdos? Uhm... Not sure..." Your gaze traveled up to the ceiling as you tried to remember... The fight was most of a blur "... I cant remember..."
"hm.. maybe they tried to kidnap you for blackmailing me over those stupid rumours, extremely poor execution.. amateurs." He scoffed and shook his head, you chuckled, looking back at him with a tired smile
".. thank you."
"hm?"
"thanks.. for saving me back there... Even if I would've gotten control of the situation soon enough-"
"uhuh, sure you would've.. you're very welcome."
He got up, the chair creaking in relief, he held his hands behind his back
"well, I shall leave you to rest.. I believe you know how to call a doctor if anything's to happen." He began to make his way to leave the room, you just watched, slightly upset to see him go. You hummed, gaze returning to the ceiling as you began to doze off again
Phobos looked back at your half unconscious form on the bed, he stared for a moment until you gave into sleep
".... Rest well, [Name]...."
===================================
#WOOOOOO THAT WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT LETS GOOOOOOOOO#my children I bring you food#madcom#madness combat#madness combat x reader#director phobos x reader#madcom phobos#madness phobos#phobos x reader#phobos#director phobos#fic#how do I even tag this??#its not really exactly angst since it wasnt something sad#just a situation that got sorted out#idk#oh well#maskwrites
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Broken Wings, chapter 1 (Reller, M-rated)
Author's Note: Also on FanFiction.Net and AO3! Updating on Saturdays, because I made sure to actually finish the fic before I started posting it, to ensure I didn't consign it to WIP hell like my other WIPs. XD
Wow, this is going to be a lot of explaining, but here we go! First off, if you haven't read Strikethrough, Crossroads, and the Damaged Goods summaries for the rest of the fics that I haven't written in between Crossroads and this one, go do that first. There's also a one-shot called Stalling that's set a month or two before this fic, but it's not necessary reading to get what's going on here.
This fic contains suicidal ideation, suicidal distress, and a depiction of Remi at rock bottom. If you're in a bad place, it might be better if you don't read this right now. (And I hope you feel less terrible soon.)
Remi is a lot different from the Remi in Crossroads. She's got pretty much all of her memories from her Jane years back now, and is a little bit softer and less sweary, until she's provoked, and then she reverts to 'fuck you' mode. Much like Jane's 4x15/4x16 self in canon, she's overwhelmed by the weight of her past mistakes, as Remi and as Jane. She's definitely not on the 'yay, law enforcement' train, and is still mostly ACAB in nature, but she knows that at least Kurt and his team are well-intentioned, and their eyes are open to the corruption within the system (mainly because of the first set of tattoos). By this point in my timeline, she also has accepted the fact that she's in love with Kurt, but she'd die before she'd ever admit it to him.
Jane is referred to as a third person throughout this fic, because neither Remi nor Kurt are at the 'Jane and Remi are just two time periods sans memories for one person' stage of acceptance. Also because it's easier for me, as a writer, to differentiate between those different time periods and mindsets by just using the names she was going by at the time. I do think that in another year down the Damaged Goods timeline, both Remi and Kurt will stop referring to Jane as a separate entity, but Remi kind of needs it right now, and though Kurt is further down the line as seeing Jane as a part of Remi, he's still getting there too. So things might seem a little bit disassociative identity disordery, and I apologise to anyone who might stumble upon this who actually lives with DID and hates what I did with this. But Remi is compartmentalising a LOT, though interestingly enough, now she's seeing Jane as the better person, whereas before, she loathed Jane with the fire of a thousand suns. The difference a few memories can make...
This fic is complete, so I'll post updates on Saturdays, I guess. This is my first time actually finishing a multi-chaptered fic before starting to post, but I really didn't want to start posting another WIP that was going to hang around in limbo (I'm sorry, Remember to Forgive and Taken for Granted fans! I will get there, I hope!).
Lastly, I really have to thank nachosandcheeze for her enthusiasm for this AU, and her encouragement for me to keep writing for it. She's not the only one who's been lovely about it (and thank you to everyone who cares about my weird little enemies to lovers universe where Jane never quite made it back to her brain - really, you guys are fantastic!), but she's been pretty consistently poking me with metaphorical sticks, and making Remi gifsets, and squeeing over Reller, etc. - to the point where I showed her the half-scene I had written from a fic several fics away from where I'd left off with Crossroads, just to get it out of my brain. And she loved it so much that I wrote a bit more, and a bit more, until over 16k later, I ended up with this. So thank you again, nachos. You're proof that nagging a fic author for more story does actually work, sometimes! :D
*
Absently tracing the carving on the stone with her finger, Remi glanced over to the small vial of clear liquid on her nightstand. It sat on top of a small, leatherbound booklet—El Libro de la Eternidad—which she’d smuggled out of Peru, along with the stone brick from Machu Picchu. Maybe she should feel guilty that she’d stolen a couple of pieces of Peruvian history from its citizens, even if one of them was a loose brick, but after all the things she’d done in her short fuck-up of a life, her conscience was way past that. And the brick contained a carved message for her: RB 4 RB, Roman Briggs for Remi Briggs, along with binary code that pointed to Roman’s data caches, and a message that had made tears sting her eyes.
Hey, sis.
I got you something. I never solved this one.
I hope you can. I did my best.
May you outlive this… for both of us.
Your brother, always,
Roman
Even during his bitter feud with Jane—Remi still flinched to think of him ZIPped and claustrophobic in his FBI cell, even though she now remembered Jane’s reasons, and her anguish at her brother’s state—Roman had still been looking for a cure for her. He’d had his own, the one she’d stolen from Dr. Roga and used to cure herself—after all, Roman had died before he’d had the chance to benefit from it. But still, he’d hunted down more Stanton cells, which meant that now, Remi had a cure for ZIP poisoning all lined up.
She had everything she needed. If Roman’s cache intel was right, New York billionaire hypochondriac Ken Lee would trade El Libro de la Eternidad for the Stanton cells. Dr. Roga could synthesise a new cure, if Kurt approached her. And Remi would need that cure, because the ZIP on the nightstand would be going into her body, as soon as she laid the plan out for Kurt.
There was just one more thing left to do.
Setting aside Roman’s carving, she accessed the video recording setting on her phone, and held it up so that her face was visible. She’d made a video for her future self once before, to further Phase One of her grand plan by introducing Jane to Oscar, and verifying his trustworthiness.
And you know how that turned out, her internal critic whispered.
Swallowing hard, Remi made herself focus on the task at hand, ignoring the guilt gnawing on the synapses at the back of her mind. How was she going to start this thing? Saying hello seemed redundant.
“I know you’re suffering right now, and I’m sorry for that. You don’t remember your old life, and that’s intentional. Please, trust me when I say you shouldn’t go hunting for the finer details. I’m sparing you a lifetime of pain and futility by taking the ZIP, even though you might not be able to appreciate that.”
She sounded whiny as hell, but how else could she put it? She had to make future Jane understand that this was for the best.
“The only options, as I see them, are suicide or ZIP. I’ve got enough here that I should be able to wipe out any trace of my old memories. You might get a few flashes, but I hope you don’t. You don’t need to go through this again.”
If you weren’t such a coward, you’d just put a shotgun barrel in your mouth and pull the trigger. Maybe Jane would think she was cowardly. But she wasn’t afraid to die. She just didn’t want Kurt to have to suffer, knowing his wife was dead along with Remi.
“I’m doing this, instead of killing myself, because you have good people around you, people I’ve already hurt enough, and don’t want to hurt any more by making them lose you. You have loyal friends. A husband who loves you very much. Things will be hard for you at first, but you’ll build a life again, like you did before. And this time, you’ll know who did this to you, and why, and you won’t have me telling you to disregard your instincts and undermine the people you care about. I was misled, and betrayed, but I made bad choices, too. I was too stubborn to see it for so long, but the first time we were ZIPped, Jane found happiness, and a new purpose, and even though I still don’t think law enforcement is the shining star of morality… If you’re working with Kurt and his team, you’ll be working towards good things. Hold onto that.”
She took a breath, picking up the ancient Peruvian brick again.
“The one thing I want to tell you about is my—our—brother, Roman. Or Ian. That was his birth name, just like yours was Alice. Ian Kruger. Later, Roman Briggs. He wasn’t perfect, as I’m sure Kurt will tell you. But he was a follower his whole life, not a leader. He followed me, and our adopted mother, because he loved us, and didn’t want to be rejected. Jane hurt him too much, and he turned on her, and on Kurt, but deep down, he was a good man. He just wanted a loving family, to belong somewhere.”
She held the brick up in the camera’s sight. “I want you to keep this. Take care of it. This points to his last message from him to me, on his data caches. To Remi, I mean. Not the old version of Jane.” How did things get so confusing? “I have the actual message saved on my phone, so you should be able to see the message itself there. As for the brick, I took it from Peru, along with something to bargain with for a cure for your ZIP poisoning. Roman was looking for a cure for me, even while he knew I—the old Jane—was working to bring him down. He just wanted his sister back, I guess.”
If she kept this up for much longer, she was going to get too damn emotional, and there was no way she was willing to break down and cry on video. She had to cut this short. “Roman and I went through hell together, and that’s one of the things I don’t want you to remember anything about, so I won’t go into it. But we survived our childhood by relying on each other, and then our teenage years were the same, in a different way. We used to pass a South African rand coin our parents gave us back and forth, giving it to each other as a gift. It wasn’t worth much back then—and it’d buy even less now—but its symbolic value for us was priceless. For Roman, it was a comfort object. Jane buried him with it, so I don’t have it now, but I wanted you to know about it.”
She dug her fingernails into her palm, a technique she’d first used at the orphanage to keep outwardly calm, while a torrent of emotions churned within her. The pain centred her, making the grief easier to bear.
“Things went so wrong, but I never stopped loving Roman, even as Jane. And he never stopped loving me.”
She sighed, knowing she should say more, should give Jane more closure, but knowing she’d never be able to get through it on camera. Maybe she’d write Jane a letter, before Kurt ZIPped her.
“I hope you can build a life again, and find happiness. You sure as hell couldn’t do worse than I did. Please, look forward, not back. There’s nothing here but pain. Good luck.”
She threw down the phone and buried her face in her hands, breathing deeply, striving for the numbness that could get her through the final days of this life. Soon she’d fly to New York, and wipe the slate clean.
The end of my memories can’t come soon enough. I can’t do this anymore.
*
Three days later…
Kurt stared from the vial and hypodermic needle to his wife, a rapidly growing pit in his stomach. What…is happening here? What the hell, Remi?
“It’s okay,” she said, shrugging as though this was a foregone conclusion, a logical end to everything they’d battled through on their way to this moment. “I’ve made my peace with it. There’s nothing left here for me now. This is Jane’s world, and I don’t belong in it. At least…at least this way, you can get her back. Or as close to it as it’s possible to get.”
“It’s okay?” he finally managed to say, his throat choked with an intense mass of emotions that he couldn’t even begin to analyse right now. “Your identity is what makes you you, Remi. You’ve fought to defend it so damn hard, it nearly drove us apart for good. You’ve spent over a year getting so many of your memories back, and now you want a clean slate again? I know you remember how hard it was for you after Times Square, and after Cape Town.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, still not meeting his eyes. “The first time, you didn’t know who Jane was. Nobody knew. This time, everyone will. And she’ll have you, and your friends. It’s…easier that way. Even though I hated you when I found out what had happened to Sandstorm, at least I had…” She shook her head. “Anyway—Jane will adjust quickly. You can get the woman you married back, as she was.”
The words shook him, in so many different ways. He rubbed a hand over his face, floundering to make sense of everything.
To get his Jane back…it was everything he’d dreamed of for so long. During those ten months that Remi had gone off the radar, he’d been desperate to find a way to bring Jane back to the forefront of her mind. Aside from Bethany and work, it had been all he’d thought about, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a spark of hope for that outcome now.
But it was all wrong. It was a fairytale. Jane had been a product of the situation she’d been in, from the bag in Times Square to not knowing who she was, to thinking she was Taylor Shaw and then discovering she wasn’t, to being tortured by the CIA—and then discovering she used to be Remi Briggs, daughter of the leader of a terrorist organisation. She’d become who she was because of the way things had been back then, the way her new life had unfolded, and there was no way to know how much of that would be replicated in a newly ZIPped Remi.
Remi. God… I… He swallowed hard, something akin to grief seeping into his bones.
“What about you? This is like…like mental suicide for a huge part of you. You really want to kill yourself that badly? Why not shoot yourself in the head? Jump off a building? Overdose on pills?” His voice was harsher than he meant it to come out—demanding, angry.
Terrified. He was goddamn terrified.
Remi flinched at his tone, finally looking into his eyes. “Because you don’t want to live without her. And if I did one of those things, you’d have to face that she’d never come back.”
He rose from the couch abruptly, the twister of conflicted emotions within him too much to handle if he stayed still. Tears filled his eyes as he stalked over to the kitchen, and he rested his palms on the worktop, his back to Remi, as he tried to breathe.
“So you really want to die?” he managed to ask.
“There’s nothing left for me. My mother, my brother, my friends, my cause, my convictions… Everything is gone, Weller. There’s no point in trying to rebuild. I’ve spent the past year not knowing what to do with myself, fucking things up…”
He turned on her, snarling, “There’s nothing left for you? Then what the hell am I? Why do you keep coming back? After everything that’s happened, you don’t care enough to stick around?”
She got to her feet, crossed the room, her eyes sad. “The only thing I care about in this life is you, and I hurt you constantly, just by not being Jane. This way, it kills two birds with one stone. My empty life goes away, and you get Jane back. You get to be happy, and I get to…forget.”
A tear slid down his cheek, and he dashed it away impatiently. “Remi…”
She reached up to brush another tear from the corner of his eye, her fingers gentle. “I don’t want either of us to hurt anymore. We’ve suffered enough.”
Staring down at her, he finally put names to the emotions within him. Fear and pain had been easy to identify on their own, but they were joined by a surge of something else, so strong and fierce and breathtakingly real that he could hardly bear it.
Remi… Fuck, I can’t lose you. I need you.
I love you.
Despite everything she’d done to him, all the mental torment she’d put him through, the bitter arguments they’d had, the misunderstandings and deceit that had shredded their trust in each other…he’d fallen for the whole of her, just as hard as he had for the Jane part of her. Remi was Jane, intensified. She’d called herself damaged goods, and he couldn’t disagree, but so was he. Remi understood him in a way Jane never could have on her own.
And he was suddenly, powerfully certain that she loved him just as much.
Unable to control himself, he pulled her into his arms, giving her a crushing kiss that seemed to shock the breath from her, even as she returned it just as ardently. Part of him wanted to reject this whole conversation, carry her to bed, fuck her until they were both too exhausted to do anything but fall asleep in each other’s arms.
But this was too serious to hide from, even temporarily. He had to make his position clear.
Wrenching away from her, he stalked over to the table, picked up the small bottle of ZIP and brought it to the kitchen sink. Unscrewing the lid, he poured the contents down the drain, then dropped the bottle and turned to Remi, who was staring at him as though he’d gone mad.
“What the hell?” she demanded.
“Listen to me,” he told her, his eyes locked on hers. “I will never use that stuff on you. Ever. It doesn’t matter to me that there’s a cure for ZIP poisoning all lined up. There’s no going back for us. I can’t just inject you and turn you back into the Jane you used to be. It wouldn’t work like that.”
She sighed, looking down at the splashes of ZIP remaining in the sink. “Better the devil you know than the angel you don’t?”
He cupped her face in both hands, making sure she couldn’t look away from his face. “You’re my devil, and my angel, and everything in between. Remi, the thought of losing you scares the hell out of me. You’re my wife, and you may not be the way you were when we got married, but you’re still the woman I fell in love with, deep down.”
She was frowning, shaking her head, and he rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as she drew in a shaky breath.
“I love you, just as much as I did when you were Jane. You didn’t make it easy to get to know you, but every time you let me in a little more, I fell for you even further. I need you to stay you.”
“What?” She breathed the word, and he opened his eyes to find her visibly trembling. Her expression was a study in contradictions. Fear. Hope. Anger. Longing.
Kurt smiled sadly. “It’s too late. I already know you love me, too.”
She tore herself out of his arms, stepped out of his reach. “Stop it. This has gone far enough, Weller.”
“No. It hasn’t gone anywhere near far enough. You’re so scared of making yourself vulnerable, of being hurt again, that you’re hurting yourself so that I’ll never have that power over you.” He took a step closer, and she backed into the living room immediately.
He’d once mentally compared her to a trapped animal, defensively clawing and snarling out of fear. He saw that same distress in her now, and ached to hold her, even though it would only make the situation worse.
“I thought we were over this,” she said, her voice brittle. “I’m not Jane.”
“No, you’re not Jane. You’re Remi. I see you, the whole of you. I know exactly who you are, and I love you.”
She eyed the apartment door, her fists bunched at her sides and her jaw set.
“Don’t run from this. Please.” He took another slow, careful step, and though she backed up again, her eyes were on him once more.
“You never took off your wedding ring, even when you were telling me you hated me. You’ve opened up to me more than once. You’ve trusted me to keep you safe, and you’ve forgiven me for mistakes I’ve made, and I’ve done the same for you.”
She pulled at the ring on her finger, trying to remove it. “You can believe what you want to believe, but it’s not true. It was just about sex and anger, and then we became friends with benefits. That’s it.”
He caught hold of her left hand and held it between his, before she could take off the wedding band. “You didn’t even want to admit you wanted me, back when we first realised we still needed each other. Even when you were halfway to coming. Is it gonna be the same now?”
She snorted, but didn’t try to yank her hand free from his. “What, you think you’re gonna fuck a confession of love out of me? It’s not the same thing, Weller.”
“Is that what it’s gonna take?” He couldn’t pretend he was surprised. They’d resolved so many of their other issues through arguing their way into sex. Why would this be any different?
Her jaw trembled before she firmed it, glaring at him. “No, because it won’t work. It’s not true.”
With anyone else, he’d take that as their final answer. A rejection that he’d have to accept and move on from. But with Remi, things had never been straightforward and simple.
She tested him at every turn, refusing to take anything he said at face value, and this thing with the ZIP was likely a part of it. He wanted to believe that was all it was—a manipulation, a shock tactic designed to scare him into laying all his cards on the table—but his gut told him otherwise.
She would never have risked him saying yes to her offer to ‘become Jane again’ if she hadn’t been prepared to accept the consequences. She was too proud to back down from something she’d said she’d do. And that meant that she really was at a desperate end point, unable to find a way to move forward from the ruins they’d left of her pre-ZIP life.
Kurt needed her to see that he could help her find the path, if she’d only trust herself to walk it. But first, she had to know he wasn’t going anywhere, that he wasn’t just settling for a doppelgänger until he decided to stop clinging to Jane’s memory.
And they both had to be clear where they stood with each other.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.”
Remi stared at him, for a moment seeming completely taken aback. Then her protective bravado and anger kicked in. “You say ‘jump’, I say ‘how high’? No!”
Even as he understood her reasons for refusing—knew she was just trying to protect herself—her words still stung.
“I love you, Remi.” He shrugged, standing straighter as he laid out his challenge. “If you don’t feel the same way, I need to know. So come on—break my heart.”
God, this is going to hurt.
He believed that she loved him. But whether she’d ever admit it to herself, let alone to him, was another story entirely.
#broken wings#damaged goods#reller#blindspot#blindspot fanfic#canon divergence#really hope this posts coherently#the post editor is weird today
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do you have an OC long-fic recommendations?
Hmm... I have two friends who I know FOR SURE write OC stuff for one piece - and I enjoy their writing quality and style by default, so I can safely recommend them.
@swampstew has What's the Magic Word - which is an OC/Eustass Kid story that's 24/35 right now on Ao3 - and also Wattpad. (and maybe on tumblr? I've read more of her stuff on Wattpad and Ao3 than I have here, just because I knew her there before I came to tumblr XD )
@likesugarandcyanide also does a lot of OC stories, and x reader stories. I love her vibe and style, and I hope she'll forgive me, idk if she mirror posts between Wattpad and Tumblr - but I know her OC stories exist on Wattpad ^_^
I also have to honorable mention my favorite OC - @mew-ya's Maren has stolen my heart ♥ There's a ton of art, but if there's any writing I must admit I haven't had time to go sniff it out (I hope there is. I love Maren so much, I don't know why, pufferfish have always scared me a little bit ^^; ) but Mew's beautiful work has made me a fan of both Maren and Katakuri -^_^-
I'm still working my way through a big backlog of x reader stories though, so I will have to say I have yet to read any OC stories so far. But good writing is good writing, so I stand by my recommendations.
If anyone else has OC stories, I offer my apologies that I haven't stumbled upon them yet ^^; I've been, admittedly, rather laser focused on x reader stuff since getting back into things and I do not multi-task in any sense of the world well.
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The Conductor's Apprentice ✨
Craig Bramley is left heartbroken after his father is killed in a train crash. In the midst of his grieving, he stumbles upon a map of the fabled Island of Sodor, where his father had promised to take him one day. He boards a train bound for Shining Time, hoping to get answers from an old family friend. During the night, he hears the eerie sound of a mysterious train whistle echoing through the air, almost as though it's calling out to him.
[ art by the absolutely lovely and talented @pawstickers ]
Yeah it was only a matter of time before I found a way to shoehorn Craig into the TTTE universe asDFGH. I know most of the fandom considers TATMR to be non-canonical, but it's so rife with AU potential I just couldn't help myself. I loved the idea of Craig being a sort of conductor-in-training (no pun intended), with Mr. C being the one to mentor him and teach him how to use Gold Dust.
A few notes:
Craig is a gentle young man, who is kind and respectful to everyone he meets. He is also very selfless, and will not hesitate to put himself in danger in order to protect others. However, his soft personality does not preclude him from being cheeky every now and then.
Sometimes, his determination to be seen as reliable ends up working against him, and he has been known to overwork himself to the point of making himself sick.
His badge number (not pictured) is 435.
Craig comes from a family of railroad workers. As a result of this, Craig is quite knowledgeable about train types and models as a whole.
Full character carrd can be found here for anyone who's curious!
#ttte#tatmr#hannah.txt#hannah's ocs#craig#okay to reblog#shoutout to my brother who misgendered him like 5 times in a row even after being corrected agsdhfj#ttte oc
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