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rootbeerworshiper · 8 days

Text

means something

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: your best friend stopped talking to you suddenly but you need one last chance at closure

warnings: angst lol

a/n: short and sweet (and sad) but i had fun writing it. alsoooo it’s based on the song but you don’t need the song playing in the background bc the pacing is different

love, sienna <3

you let out a defeated sigh as you focus your attention on a blank sheet of paper. it was supposed to be easy now, easier to let out your thoughts and begin to reconstruct your views on the situations that bring you sadness. at least that’s what your therapist advised you.

but instead you have nothing but small doodles of hearts on the top of the paper, serving as nothing but a sad reminder of your own life and how it lacks the love you always read about.

‘hopeless romantic’ used to feel like the wrong word, because there was a point where you had hope for a story like you see in the movies. a classic romantic comedy plot line was one you had always yearned for.

it’s silly how badly you’ve wanted it. you know you’re a complete person without it, you have strengths and aspirations and you cannot base your worth onto stupid boys.

but he wasn’t stupid. not in the slightest, regardless of what others said about him.

he was thoughtful and caring in ways no one else has been to you. never in your life have you seen someone so in touch with their own emotions at that level.

that’s because he’s special. to you and to so many other people.

April 17th, 2022

dear Matt,

i’m not entirely sure how to do this whole thing but it’s a step in healing that i’m more than inclined to take. part of me just really wants to get better so i have to do something to help me.

it might seem really random that i’m mailing you a letter, and trust me i understand how odd it is. but for once i needed you to hear me, and i can’t really send this message to a blocked number.

i can’t see anything in life without thinking of you. i saw a street sign the other day and i had to squint because, for a moment i thought i saw your last name plastered on the plastic. and i thought that it meant something. like the universe was trying to tell me something.

how pathetic is that? you know i can’t even have most of my favourite snacks anymore because they were our favourite snacks. the new foods you introduced me to when i forced you to watch ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ with me in middle school are practically forbidden from my apartment.

“this is the dumbest movie concept ever” Matt speaks, an annoyed undertone to his voice as he looks to me.

“you haven’t even watched it yet how can it be dumb? you know you might end up enjoying it if you watch it with an open mind” i reply, snuggling into his arm as my body rests on the soft couch cushion.

it definitely doesn’t take long for him to become invested.

“wait someone sent the letters?”

“why is she kissing him? doesn’t she like margo’s boyfriend?”

“damn they’re really just making out in a public hot tub”

the movie comes to a close, a cute song playing as the credits roll. “so, what did you think?”

“i think that i really like root beer and i really need the second movie now” he exclaims, sipping his bubbly liquid before looking down at me with the same blue eyes that can easily make me dizzy.

“i thought you’d come around Matt”

now i’m just a girl getting sad over a canned soda and a familiar brand of chips because it reminds me of all the good that once was.

along with this, i know everything about you.

i know your zodiac sign, me and leo’s are really compatible, which i never failed to mention to you despite how little you believe in astrology.

i can’t lie, the amount of silly little compatibility quizzes i took throughout middle school with our names punched in was a bit excessive, but every time without fail i would get the answers i had hoped for. and i thought that meant something.

i know how hard it was growing up for you. but i was there for you when you needed someone to force you to go to school in the morning, or when you needed help ordering food at the gas station across the street.

i used to think we were soulmates. not always romantic, but we just understood each other so well and i considered it to be sacred.

whenever i went through my own shit you were there for me. it was always so easy. knowing that if i had a bad day i had someone to go to who would listen with open ears… i guess it’s just been hard to live without that.

“Matt why did he break up with me? am i that unlovable?” i cry out, my head buried in matt’s chest as he rubs small circles on the back of my head.

he just pulls my head off of him, hands placed on either cheek as he looks at me. “i don’t think there is anyone on this planet that is more lovable than you”

i sniffle, trying my best to suppress the numerous tears that want nothing more than to escape my eyes. “so why did he break up with me out of the blue? after eight months why did he just decide he’s done with me?”

“because he’s an idiot who doesn’t understand the girl he just lost”

i cried for hours that night when my boyfriend broke up with me, and i know you remember. the next morning i woke up in your arms and i immediately felt guilty for keeping you up so late with my sob stories, but you didn’t care.

you said you wanted what’s best for me and you would make it your life’s goal to make me happy. and then you had the audacity to run your fingers through my hair as i thought about what to do next. that along with the constant reminders of how much i deserved love, that it was a definite thing for me.

how is that okay? do you not see how that was so completely confusing? did it mean absolutely nothing?

i haven’t kissed many people in my life, something Chris loved to tease me about. what he doesn’t know is that you were my first.

we never talked about it. maybe that was for the best, because every time i see a picture of you all i can think about is how good your lips felt on mine.

“i can’t just kiss you!” i laugh out, taking another swig of my drink before wiping my lips and looking back at the boy who has a serious expression resting on his face.

“sure you can. i don’t want jack to have an unfortunate ending to your guys’ date if u end up like… licking his bottom lip or some shit” he argues, holding his own drink in his own hand but keeping his attention solely on me.

“you’re just saying that because you’re drunk”

“maybe” he replies, sensing my hesitance. “is the idea of kissing me that bad?”

“no! no of course not, i just don’t wanna make it weird between us” i say, suddenly feeling a pool of anxiety form in my stomach.

but then, before i could form another overwhelming thought you just kissed me. just like that your lips were attached to mine and everything felt okay.

it was short lived, although i know i could have been like that forever. “nothing could ever make things weird between us, promise”

it’s funny isn’t it? how many times we assured each other that our friendship was solid, unbreakable.

i think the worst part is the not knowing. there’s nothing to comfort me with.

you left one day and you simply never spoke to me again. was it my fault? was it something i said?

i can’t help but wonder if the reason you cut it off is because you noticed all the small glances i would take in your direction. or if you noticed that the reason why i love romance books so much is because i imagine we’re the main characters.

that’s the thing though, i’ll never know. i feel less like myself without you, but maybe that’s part of growing up.

i have to learn what my own favourite snacks are and i can’t reply on you to have my back when i get my heart broken. instead i’ll be crying in an empty bed wondering what could’ve happened differently.

this wasn’t supposed to be a long letter but i promise it’s the only one you’ll be getting from me because i have to do the same as you, i have to move on.

i just have one question for you.

did all of this mean something to you? like really mean something to you in the way that i interpreted it.

i’ve wondered if i was delusional when i caught you staring at me from across the classroom, or when i found those compatibility tests in your search history.

but the kiss? drunk or not i thought something was there, with you or with us or whatever else. i didn’t think i was just another girl that Matt Sturniolo kisses and then forgets about but that’s exactly what i became.

anyways, i hope this letter finds you well. i had to ask Nate for your address but please don’t get mad at him. you know how stubborn i am when i want something and he tried to say no.

i guess i just love you, and i’m trying my best to make that sentence into past tense.

thanks for listening, y/n.

you grab an envelope that resides on the edge of your desk and open it up. folding up your letter and placing it gently inside before licking the tip of the envelope and closing it.

it all feels metaphorical. pouring your heart out just for it to get concealed by a thin piece of paper and shipped away.

regardless, you breathe out, standing up and making your way over to the garage to start your car. if you don’t do it know you won’t do it at all, and you need him to hear you.

a/n: if u want a part 2 you might get one maybe… we’ll see what i’m feeling anyways hope you enjoyed this blurb

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius @sugrhigh @jnkvivi @sturnsmia

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo oneshots #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #Spotify

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withleeknow · 4 months

Note

HAII! i’m so happy to hear you’re opening requests, your writing is incredible !!

if you remember my idea with the dancing, as you said a short thing, could you write something similar to that maybe?

if not, lee know and yn play truth or dare together one night, “do it, i dare” what happens is free for you to decide 😊

-🍓

devastate me.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: brother's best friend au, mutual pining, kinda fluffy?, kinda angsty?; tbh idek if this makes sense bc my apologies, i finished it at almost 3 in the morning in a delirious state of mind lol, unedited @.@ word count: 0.7k note: hi strawberry!! i chose to do the second one bc i wasn't sure if i could do your original justice with just a quick drabble, but i hope you like this one regardless!! merry christmas heheheh <;33

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

what is lee minho?

to many, he's wonderfully charming, handsome, insanely smart and funny to the point that it's almost annoying, because how on earth can someone have it all just like that? he's kind and sweet. honest and gentle. the perfect man.

to you, he's all of those things and more. much more.

he's the person that you've been in love with for as long as you can remember. the person whose name you will forever associate with the longing of first love. it's beautiful, but it's pain nonetheless.

he's forbidden fruit, the one you want the most but can't possibly have.

your brother's best friend.

but...

if that's the case, if he's off limits to you and you're off limits to him, then why does he have a hand on the wall next to your head, looming over your body with the intensity of a predator? why is he caging you between his arms in the middle of a hallway, at a party in a stranger's house, where anybody could walk by and see you? why are his hips pressed against yours, blurring a line that could be never uncrossed if you take that step? why is he leaning in until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, until your lips are brushing, so close and yet... so far away?

you know why, and it's possibly the worst thing that you could ever be aware of.

that as much as you're in love with him, he's in love with you too.

you feel it every time his eyes fall on you from across the room. every time his touch lingers on your skin from the simplest of interactions. every time he softens when you’re around. every time you’re alone together and he bites his tongue, swallowing down the words you wish he would say - the words you wish you could tell him yourself.

your voice comes out as a mere whisper. "what are you doing?"

maybe it's because you both have had something to drink. maybe it's just simply liquid courage.

“when are we going to stop pretending that there’s nothing going on between us?” he asks, voice dropping low, husky. it sounds a little vulnerable, just like you.

there’s no point in denying it. the truth is clear as day.

“we can’t,” you say.

“why not?”

“you know why.”

minho sighs, then clenches his jaw before he speaks next, frustration laced into every syllable. “i don’t care what anyone else thinks. i just want you.”

“min-”

“fuck,” he interrupts, leaning his forehead to rest against yours, his fingers holding onto your waist more tightly. “i love you.”

you place a hand on his chest, meaning to push him away but then you find his heartbeat under your palm instead, hammering against his chest like it wants to escape from his body.

in a split second of weakness, a split second where the logical part of your brain falters, your eyes flicker to his lips.

and minho, ever the sharp observer even in a state of mild inebriation, notices.

“do it,” he mutters, his words a stark contrast to the helpless tone that he says them with. “i dare you.”

a shaky inhale from you, an almost pleading look from him. even when he's practically begging you, he's handing you all control. to say no if that's what you really want. to leave and dismiss everything as just some stupid joke later on, and go back to revolving around each other in secret, like a couple of powerless fools.

your fingers grip his shirt, because goddamn, of course you want it. you've never wanted anything in your entire life more than you want him. you already have one foot in already, half a mind to blow it all the way to hell and deal with the fallout when the time comes.

you catch his eyes once more, and the sincerity in his galaxy shakes you to the core.

fuck it.

you pull him in, obliterating the gap.

i love you, but you’re telling him in a different way.

so, if someone were to ask you again: what is lee minho?

he’s a lot of things. charming, handsome, smart, funny. the person you love, the very one that you can’t have. the answer is pretty much the same.

but most of all, lee minho is devastating.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho #🍓 anon

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flamingo-writes · 10 months

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hello >-<

so i have this idea

hobie is a punk musician right? what if he kinda like this artist (their work and all) but the artist is a anon so he got no idea who it was but he knows their art style by heart

he would go to art galleries that will feature the artist

he would even go to the extent of buying a print or two

he would also ask for a commission from the artist

but he would do all of it in incognito (he’s like an idol idoling his idol from the fake acc to ask for comms to disguises just to go to the gallery)

little did he know his fav artist/reader is also a big fan of his band

how would they meet??

(sorry if it’s to long or kinda hard to understand, thank youuu have a wonderful day)

•🍓

You have no idea how much I loved this. I kinda projected myself (like I’ve honestly been in all of my hobie fanfics, but bcs I too, am a punk and do art occasionally) my eco-punk tendencies keep showing, and I’m honestly not gonna stop anytime soon (as you can tell from the constant mention of plants in my writing). This took me forever but I’ve been hella busy 😭

I’ll perhaps do a second part of this

WC: 1.2K or something.

Art is Freedom — Hobie x GN!Reader

"Art is Freedom" was the signature of the anonymous artist Hobie desired to meet. There was something about their art that simply fascinated him. From murals made out with plants, to your standard mural with spray paint. In galleries, this same artist did installations with all sorts of recycled materials. From newspaper, cardboard, paper, sometimes even stuff like aluminium and glass. Others screen printing on recycled fabric and old shirts, and most recently digital art, with the option of buying prints.

What Hobie liked about this artist was how cold and straightforward could they be with their art to express their thoughts and feelings. With a strong commentary on environmentalism. Also very graphic art talking about feminism and domestic violence. He loved the passion put into these pieces, he gawked at the raw energy expiring from the art pieces.

However, tracking them down was particularly hard. They were good at covering up their tracks. Although Hobie knew what that was like, so he started thinking in a similar way this anonymous artist would do. Sometimes feeling guilty for wanting to uncover this artist’s identity, he wouldn’t like it if someone was waiting for him to make a mistake at covering his tracks and found out who he was. But at the same time, he genuinely wanted to meet this person, have a talk with them, sure that Spider-Man and this artist would get along very well.

One fortuitous day, at the art gallery Hobie liked to frequent, there was a new exposition. This one was a photography show. It was the first time this artist showcased pictures. The theme was punk. And most of the photos were from concerts. Spider-Man was even in most of them. Not only was this artist a fan of his band, but from the pictures, Hobie was able to get an idea of who this artist was.

The group of hardcore punks who always showed up to his concerts, art shows, or were wrecking havoc during manifestations, was for the most part the same crowd. Some faces and even names became familiar not only to him but to everyone else.

And you had a face easy to recognise. You had a reputation for always being in the middle of the mosh pit, jamming and jumping like everybody else. However, you were taking pics. Right in the middle of the mosh, you managed to take the best pictures from the stage and the crowd. How did you manage to take those pics while getting out, not only yourself but your camera intact? It was a mystery many people liked to think about.

Hobie had seen you at almost every gig. And he’d seen the magnificent work you did with the photos. However, for the two years he’s been following this anonymous artist, he’d never seen photos. However, for the three or four years you’ve been following his band, he’d seen you in the crowd and seeing your work.

And now standing in front of your exposition, he could clearly identify the peculiar style of the pictures. Those pictures clearly were taken from the depths of a mosh pit. And keeping cameras intact and photos this good of a mosh pit could only be you.

His eyes widened at the realisation. He knew you all along, and had been watching your work from afar for so long. He didn’t personally know you, but he’d seen you around so much to think you were a cool lad, the pins on your jacket were rad, and that you had good taste in music. And of course, he thought you were a talented photographer.

But now that he’d put two and two together, not only were you a magnificent photographer, but an overall artist. The respect and admiration he felt for you duplicated, as he’d thought he was admiring at two different artist while it was actually one and the same.

“Oh! Look at these!” Some people in the gallery said as they neared the pictures and paid close attention to them. “Dude, this pics are sick! Kinda like the ones you always take!”

He diverted his gaze and saw a couple of people leaning closer to take in the details, and a third person wearing a hoodie. Hands hidden in the pouch and hood over their head.

“They’re pretty good,”

Hobie raised an eyebrow as he paced around the gallery, trying to get closer, wondering if it could be you underneath that hoodie.

As he got closer, pretending to glance at the pictures, he saw you from the corner of his eyes and smirked. Your poker face was actually very good, but he could see right through it.

“You think the artist knows how meaningful their art is to others?” Hobie said in a low voice as he glanced at you.

“They better! They’re fucking awesome!” One of your friends said, clueless of what Hobie was trying to do.

“I’m sure they’ve got some idea,” You said meeting Hobie’s stare.

“Well, they sure are my favourite artist, I’ll tell you that…” He said confidently. “I’ve seen you around in gigs, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, probably. I’m always around in gigs…” You said shyly.

“Especially Spider-Man! You love that guy!” One of your friends said, as you felt your cheeks warming up slightly.

“Do you?” Hobie asked.

“His style is very unique. And he’s amazing. He’s been a huge inspiration for me,” reluctantly, you admitted.

“Really? That’s cool. I’m Hobie,” His smirk flashed across his face with a slight arrogant yet full of charm.

“Nice meeting you,” You introduced yourself to him, telling him your name. “I like your style…” You said, pulling one of your hands out of the pouch of your hoodie and pointed at his pins.

“Thanks,” He said, repeating your name. “So, you said Spider-Man was an inspiration…”

“I do art sometimes,” You shrugged. “I wish I could live off of it but, it’s hard,”

“The world is so unkind to artist, unless you decide to sell yourself like a whore,”

You looked at Hobie, thinking there was something strangely familiar and yet refreshing of him. He was tall, he was skinny, but definitely looked like the guy you wouldn’t want to get in a fight with. And yet, he didn’t look all that intimidating. In fact, you felt curious.

“Yeah, pretty much…” You agreed.

“Wanna go for a beer sometime?”

It was hard for you not to smirk as you looked away. Your friends now further away, having read the room and left you alone with Hobie.

“Excuse me?” You armed yourself with courage to look back at him and meet his stare, his eyes a lighter shade of brown compared to the rest of his skin. He was gorgeous, you thought.

“You seem like a pretty interesting person, I’d like to know you better and know a bit more about the art you make, if that’s okay of course…” He shrugged, nonchalantly, able to read your slightly shy and awkward demeanour.

“Do I know you?” You asked.

Hobie chuckled softly. Knowing exactly what you meant, wondering if you were able to somehow relate him to Spider-Man already.

“Yeah, I introduced myself two minutes ago,” he teased, as you chuckled and rolled your eyes playfully.

“No—I me-mean yeah…” You giggled “But…Before that?”

Hobie shrugged.

“Why you ask?”

“I don’t know…” You sighed looking at him curiously, attentively. “Something about you feels oddly familiar…”

“Perhaps,” He shrugged “who knows, there’s only one way to find out…” He winked.

You smirked.

“Later today? At the Hayfield?” You said, naming your favourite bar, agreeing to his invitation.

“Someone likes artisan beer,” Hobie pointed out with an approving nod.

“Isn’t that the best kind of beer?” This time, you shrugged nonchalantly “Besides, Hayfield supports all the local beer producers and amateurs too”

“Nice. See you then,” Hobie said. “9 works for you?”

“9 it is” You smirked, feeling your chest stirring slightly.

“Nice meeting ya” He said turning around, with a triumphant smirk.

“Nice meeting you too…”

~~~~~~~~~

don’t forget to leave a comment if you like this and reboots always help your local and favourite writers get more traction 🙆🏻‍♀️

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie headcanons #hobie fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie x you #hobie x y/n

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obxsummer · 1 year

Text

Pieces of You // JJ Maybank

summary: you had grown tired of JJ's reckless nature and were suffering the silent treatment post-argument. so it's only fitting the next time he's careless it's to save you.

request: Heyyy, I love your work with all my heart!! I was wondering if you could write a JJ x reader fic, where in S3 at the end of episode 8 Topper burns the chateau down, but JJ has to save them because they didn’t notice the fire or anything? That would be so nice:)

warnings: minor injuries, angst bc it's me, crappy ending bc I didn't know what else to write ok

navigation

Things had been a little too crazy for you and the Pogues. John B had supposedly managed to get arrested after knocking the shit out of Topper. Sarah did cheat on him after all, so his reaction was warranted in your mind. Kie had been busy dealing with the backlash of her parents while Pope and Cleo seemed to be the only duo without any major complications. Granted, Cleo did have to talk the boy out of killing Rafe for melting the cross but hey, minor details.

You and JJ however, were in the middle of the biggest argument you’d seen. At this point, you don’t even remember how it all happened minus the fact that the two of you stopped speaking shortly after his whole bike incident. JJ had the habit of being a little too careless for someone who had people that needed him and loved him. You were growing really tired of his reckless behavior. You loved JJ more than anything, but sometimes you wished he saw that his actions affected more than just him. You needed to know that he would be okay if you weren’t around to approve of his actions and make sure he didn’t go too far.

JJ had been avoiding you since the moment you caught his gaze on the busted concrete. He knew he was fucked, and royally too. You’d warned him about being more careful and here he was doing powerslides from overpasses.

He couldn’t get the words to work right to explain to you why he acted the way he did. It wasn’t just for the adrenaline rush, or because of his upbringing. JJ genuinely would do anything for you and the Pogues. He just happened to jump to the craziest way of getting there instead of taking the time to think it through.

“Will you just talk to me please?” His voice was pleading as he watched you move around your bedroom in a rushed fashion. You’d been quiet since Topper had dropped everyone off and your boyfriend was losing it with the silence.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to talk to me now? Where was this initiative when you practically dumped me off your bike into the truck bed? Or, better yet, where was this when you just stared at me blankly like I wasn’t sobbing over the fact that I thought you were dead?” You were getting angry quickly and JJ didn’t like it.

He hesitated in his response, enough that you let out a huff of air in annoyance before turning away from him again. Recently, JJ panicked easily. It all started once he lost John B but got better for a while, especially when he had you. Now that everything was colliding, JJ was panicking.

“I just didn’t know how else to get the cops away from-”

“You didn’t have to do something that involved you almost dying, JJ!” You shouted this time as the random pieces of clothing dropped from your hands. “I know you care. You care a lot for everyone but JJ… I care about you. I care so much that you break my heart when you do things like this because I can’t lose you! And neither can our friends! I know you don’t think far enough ahead for your personal consequences but please… please think about how everyone else would react if we lost you.”

JJ walked out on you sometime after that. You’d clearly upset him and your friends definitely felt the awkwardness but if you were honest, there was so much tension between everyone right now anyway. Your small family was starting to waver but you knew everything would work out.

Sarah had called you all over to the Chateau, promising good news. You had yet to see her as you slowly approached the group, Kie, Cleo, Pope, and JJ already in attendance. There wasn’t much conversation to begin with, but it all fell silent the moment you stepped into view. Kie gave you a reassuring smile that didn’t do much to ease your nerves.

The blonde girl that had asked for your presence came walking down the steps of the Chateau not long after, sparing the awkward silence. “Hey, um, thanks for waiting. Look who decided to come home.”

John B stepped out of the doors of his childhood home, looking relatively fine for the hell he’d been through. You were shocked that he had managed to get out of jail so quickly, especially with Topper’s family status being put into play.

“Welcome back,” Cleo greeted with a smirk on her face.

“Whoa! Good to see you, man.”

You let out a small laugh at John B’s surprise presence. “Welcome home, JB.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” JJ scoffed from his spot across from you on the large tree branch. John B tucked his hands in his pockets and walked towards all of you solemnly. He looked really upset if you were being honest and it made you wonder what had really happened.

“I have something I want to share with you guys,” Sarah said as she pulled the attention back to her. “I can get us down to Orinoco.”

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“Okay, how’s that gonna happen?”

“My dad’s gonna let us use the plane-”

“Ward?”

“Your dad?”

You rolled your eyes at the pop-up comments that seemed never-ending. “Can y’all let the girl speak? Geez.”

Sarah’s gaze met yours as she offered up a small thankful smile. “We lay low tonight, then wheels up first thing in the morning.”

“Okay, that’s a lot to process. Your dad actually helping us,” Pope recounted in shock. “So we trusting Ward now?”

“Trust Sarah,” Kie offered with a solidifying nod at her own words.

Pope and Cleo seemed excited about the plan as Sarah spoke up again. “But wait, I also just have one more thing to say. Um… since we’ve gotten back from the island, I’ve done some things I regret. A lot.”

Kie cleared her throat in the awkward silence that followed.

“Yeah, uh…” To your surprise, John B broke the quiet. “I feel…I feel like we’ve all done a thing or two that we regret.” His eyes glanced at the blonde next to him before he looked towards the ground again.

Sarah continued, “And I don’t…Poguelandia, guys. It’s all I’ve been able to think about. We were all together on that island and it was a good thing and I don’t want to ruin a good thing. And I-I just wanna know, are we still all in? Are we still all together? Because I am.”

Kie was the first to agree, wrapping Sarah in a hug before Cleo piled in on top of them.

“I still can’t believe you got the plane!” Pope smiled as he brought the Cameron girl in for a hug. “That’s actually insane.”

You took a deep breath as you watched them, well aware of JJ’s eyes on you. He’d been staring for a while now, always observant when it came to you. You took a few steps forward to embrace Sarah before retreating back to your own space next to Kie.

“Let’s go get Big John, alright? What do you say there, shit bird?” JJ tugged Pope under his arm as he regarded your friend. You found yourself pulled into the group hug next to Kie and Sarah, all of you waiting for John B to complete the circle.

“I think this deserves a woogity.”

You watched from the corner of your eye as John B stayed still in his spot. You shook your head slightly and made eye contact with him while smiling. “How long are you gonna pretend you’re not coming over here?”

Your best friend’s blank exterior broke at the question, glad to see a smidge of positive emotion from you over the past few days. He caved and made his way toward your group, quickly throwing his arms over your shoulders.

“Come over here, funny man. We don’t bite.” The seven of you hugged each other tightly, finally all back in the same place for once in what felt like forever.

“Oh, we’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

Your small family was slowly rebuilding as everyone made their way into the Chateau for the night. John B and Sarah were quick to excuse themselves to his room, leaving the rest of you to entertain yourselves.

“Jay,” You whispered his name quietly as he brushed past you to the kitchen in search of a beer. You blinked sudden tears from your eyes and looked up to the ceiling in an attempt to not cry.

Letting out a deep breath, you quickly made your way to the guest bedroom where you and JJ had spent most of your time. You stared at the colossal mess of your things scattered amongst his along the furniture and floor. Your chest ached at the sight, wishing the two of you weren’t on such poor terms at the moment so you could actually enjoy the peace before setting off on another treasure hunt.

Busying yourself with a shower in the attached bath, you figured some quiet time would help you clear your head and hopefully come up with a game plan of what to say to your boyfriend. You didn’t mean to make him feel like shit for expressing his love the way he did, but you were scared for him.

The hot water of John B’s shower was soothing as you took the quiet time for yourself. Eventually, you had to leave the comforting steam when it began to run cold. Completely disheveled and stressed, you pulled on some comfy clothes and attempted to dry your wet hair before you had to face the music again.

You let out a sigh and reached for the metal doorknob to walk back into the spare bedroom only for a searing pain to stretch across your hand. Jumping back with a yelp, a rush of panic overwhelmed you once you realized how hot it was in the small bathroom.

“JJ!” You yelled instinctively as you searched for the hand towel to possibly grab the handle with. The fabric held the heat off long enough for you to open the door. The sight of bright flickering flames filled the room you and JJ had claimed for yourselves, burning pieces of each other into ashes. You stumbled back in shock before the adrenaline kicked in and you ran into the smoky room in hopes of salvaging some of the items.

“Y/N!” The boy in question came flying through the bedroom door a second later. He could barely see you through the thick smoke but managed to catch a quick movement of your figure across the room. “Y/N, we have to go!”

Your heart was pounding in your ears too loud for you to register his voice. The few items you’d grabbed in a rush were thrown in a canvas tote bag Kie had given you before you spun straight into JJ’s chest.

“We gotta go, baby, come on.” JJ tugged his your t-shirt up over your mouth and nose to help filter the smoke before doing the same and leading you out of the room. Most of the house was covered in the bright orange light of the fire as you observed it in shock. You could barely focus as JJ pushed your hips towards the window of Big John’s office that was left open from their prior escape. He was quick to climb out and turned back to catch you. Glass shattered from another window causing the two of you to duck down and JJ to grab your wrist to tug you away from the structure.

JJ’s grip on your wrist eased up as he brought you towards the dock where everyone had gathered in their escape. Your boyfriend’s touch was gentle as he helped you sit on the ground to take a deep breath and cough out the smoke in your lungs. “It’s okay, ‘m right here, baby.”

Everyone was visibly relieved when they saw you and JJ come running from the smoldering flames on the side of the house. It all happened so fast that they felt guilty for completely forgetting you were in the shower. JJ had taken one small look and took off before anyone had a chance to stop him.

Your hands were shaky with the anxiety and fear that was coursing through your body. In the few moments before you found JJ, you were thinking the worst. You thought you were going to lose the person who mattered most to you in the midst of an argument and that was terrifying. You’d never forgive yourself if you lost JJ ever, but to be on rough terms was a nightmare you’d never recover from.

“Hey, hey. Look at me. Everyone’s fine, I’m right here.” JJ’s blond hair was suddenly visible in your view as he forced you to look up at him and uncurl from the ball you’d shifted into. “What did you grab?”

You released your suffocating grip on the bag you’d practically filled. In the midst of your panic, you didn’t realize your friends had moved away to give you and JJ some space. You settled back against the posts of the wooden dock to watch as he went through the items you grabbed.

JJ’s favorite hoodie, a handful of Polaroids Kiara had taken of your group, his rings, the necklace he’d saved up to buy you for your anniversary. JJ was careful with the items as he shifted through them, his eyes suddenly damp with tears.

“Y/N, sweetheart, all of this is replaceable. You aren’t,” He consoled as he finally made eye contact with you. Both of you were crying now, emotions running high from the events that just took place.

You took a shaky breath as you fought back the sob threatening to break through. “I...I felt like that room was us. All of our memories, and it was just crumbling and you weren’t there. JJ, I can’t lose you.”

“I know, I know.” JJ didn’t hesitate to pull you against his chest as you cried against him. He’d felt the panic himself a few moments before when he realized you were still showering and blissfully unaware of the damage awaiting outside. JJ refused to let you be in pain because of him and his actions from here on out. It wasn’t fair to any of your friends but especially you. “Not doing anything majorly stupid from here on out. Maybe just a little here and there, but-”

You laughed slightly and pulled your head from his shirt to look over his shoulder where the Chateau was crumbling from the flames. Heart heavy, you leaned your cheek against JJ’s shoulder and let him hold you, hoping this was the lowest your group could go and things could only look up from here.

navigation

#outer banks x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #outer banks #obx x reader #outer banks netflix #obx #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x you #jj maybank angst #obx3 #jj x you #jj x reader

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miyseung · 15 days

Text

𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑

summary: they would do anything you asked them to – be it moving mountains or draining rivers. they’d do it, no matter how stupid it was. however, your simple request is there to put that love to test.

OR you ask the boys if they could peel your orange for you

the orange peel test is simply something created on tiktok to see whether your partner does something as trivial as peeling an orange for you.

includes: oranges, riki and sunoo bully you out of love (riki’s is worse), slight physical violence in sunoo’s (all in good fun ofc), jungwon is an idol in his prompt, all others are unlabeled, lmk if i missed anything!

genre: fluff

pairing: bf! enha x fem! reader

word count: 1.1k a/n: this is my first writing out of hiatus pls be nice 🙏 this is written in a more unserious way/bullet points soo yeah (do y’all like the title)

taglist: @kflixnet

lee heeseung

⊹ when you put an orange in one of his hands, it’s safe to say he’s baffled

⊹ cuz last time he checked your hands were fine

⊹ with his free hand he grabs yours one by one to check if there’s any wounds, turning them over carefully, a small concentrated frown on his face

⊹ when he finds none, he looks at you, bambi eyes filled with confusion

⊹ “i’m lazy do me a favor and peel it for me please”

⊹ his frown instantly becomes a pout, but he peels it nevertheless

⊹ “you can just do it yourself or ask someone else!”

⊹ “well you’re my fav person ever so…”

⊹ THAT gets him

⊹ now he’s a giggly heeseung peeling an orange!

park jongseong

⊹ you don’t even have to ask him tbh

⊹ whenever he’s cooking in your kitchen, he usually takes out fruit and puts it on a plate instead of making dessert sometimes, oranges included

⊹ this guy peels them so carefully and puts them in a heart on a plate for you (i need a jay asap)

⊹ but you asked him anyway bc you had peeled skin on your thumb and didn’t want to go through hell

⊹ he does it without question, tossing the peel in the dustbin before separating the orange slices and handing them to you

⊹ “thanks jjong”

⊹ “don’t mention it, it’s just an orange”

⊹ then he presses a small kiss on your forehead

⊹ holy moly how is he so PERFECT

shim jaehyun

⊹ he’s kinda like jay imo

⊹ if there’s any food on the table, fruit or takeout for example, he’ll set it up on a plate with a fork/spoon if necessary so that when you come back you can just sit down and eat

⊹ such a sweet bby :(

⊹ so one day you put an orange on the table before going to attend to a phone call - you were gonna eat it after

⊹ you return only to see the peel on the side, the orange slices in a bowl and jake washing his hands

⊹ when he comes out of the bathroom you grab his collar and press a big fat smooch on his lips

⊹ boy is FLUSTERED

⊹ “what was that for?”

⊹ “because i love you my private orange peeler”

⊹ he laughs lightly, before taking an orange slice and feeding it to you because he can

park sunghoon

⊹ he’s asking a few questions for sure #detektiv

⊹ when you tell him that you just don’t want sticky juice on your hands, he nods

⊹ his pretty fingers are in the middle of peeling it off, and then SHSSSHHSS juice is on his shirt

⊹ he freezes for a good minute, looking at you with eyes that are BEGGING you to not laugh

⊹ you very obviously did not read the room and end up on the floor gasping for air

⊹ he’s puffing his now turning pink cheeks in annoyance

⊹ when you finally get up, he did end up finishing the task at hand despite the setback

⊹ so you give him a kiss on the cheek (which now turns red teehee) and take the orange from his hands

⊹ “i hate you”

⊹ “thanks hoon, love you too”

kim sunoo

⊹ he’s (fake) annoyed by your request - how dare you interrupt his gaming session with riki!! he was so close to winning!!! (no he wasn’t)

⊹ he glares at you, before begrudgingly telling riki he needs a moment and doing what you asked

⊹ tbf you caught him at an inappropriate time, but oh well he’s doing it anyway

⊹ when he’s done you hold your hand out expectantly, but this rat takes one slice and pops it in his mouth

⊹ “mm sweet, better than the one usually i get”

⊹ you just stare at him with your jaw on the floor

⊹ before you smack his face ofc, ain't no man eating your food

⊹ “revenge tastes sweeter”

⊹ he gasps at your AUDACITY and is about to say something only to be interrupted by the sound of riki cackling. he left the camera on.

yang jungwon

⊹ you asked him to peel your orange while you were in enha’s dorm bc you put on fake nails and you were scared that they’d come off with you peeling too hard

⊹ except…his fingers were cramped from typing 24/7 on weverse 😔 he just loves his fans a lot okay they give him such warm welcomes at airports 😁😁

⊹ so you just stare at each other before he gets up and runs off…and then you hear a scream of “JAY HYUNG”

⊹ and you facepalm. sometimes you questioned whether you were his number one or jay

⊹ now obvi jay is a sweetie and he obliges - shortly after, jungwon comes back you with a peeled orange and a proud smile

⊹ you take the fruit before giving him an unamused look in his direction

⊹ “what? i got the job done”

⊹ “no, jay got it done”

⊹ he pouts, one of his devious schemes to get you to kiss him or at least be affectionate with his adorable self

⊹ you don’t falter and just eat the orange, while he stares at you incredulously

nishimura riki

⊹ if you expected him to peel it and give it to you immediately, you might have to lower your expectations a little

⊹ this kid is the last person to do it. no no no he nags you to do it on your own before he takes it against his will or so he says

⊹ he starts peeling it, grumbling to you on how you’re sooo lazy when you’re just reading a book and didn’t want juice on the pages, completely reasonable

⊹ and then this pain in the ass peels it in a certain way that caused juice to get in your eyes

⊹ it BURNED, so you ran to the bathroom to wash it out with riki’s annoying laugh in the background

⊹ needless to say you ignored him for the rest of the day

⊹ finally when you avoided his hugs he realized he #messedup and ordered your favorite food for you, and when the food came it was arranged neatly for you, along with a peeled orange on the side - and you had to forgive his poor soul atp

⊹ “i’m sorry y/n…but it was kinda funny…”

⊹ “layla and maeumi are better than bisco stfu”

#kflixnet #enhypen imagines #heeseung imagines #jay imagines #jake imagines #sunghoon imagines #sunoo imagines #jungwon imagines #niki imagines #mallow’s works #mallow’s drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop bg #fluff

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soleilnomoon · 10 months

Note

hey miss kaia 😼 I wasn’t sure if I should message you or send it this way butttt I’d love a strawberry-mango mai tai (crocodile or shanks) w/ songs 12, 15, and 23 from the playlist 👩🏾‍💻

hiiiii bb 🥰️ ty for requesting! i am so so sorry this took so long, but it’s here at last. also this was my first time writing crocodile, so i was v excited and wrote more than necessary but lbr i’m a long-winded mfer ok, that’s just how it is there’s no cure unfortunately; anyway i like how it turned out and if i kept writing we’d be here forever ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

2.1k words (don’t look at me), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; fluff if you count him not choking her as fluff & smut (and angst that u didn’t ask for but i gave it to u bc i’m unwell like that 😊; feat. post-time skip crocodile in denial (he’s king of it clearly), reader who is (rightfully) in her feelings abt everything, smoking, established relationship, exes 2 lovers bc that’s my jam, a lil bit of miscommunication, crocodile is bad at emotions and reader is too emotional — they’re perfect for each other obvy — rough sex, is it considered knife play if he has a hook (asking 4 a friend), a lot of kissing (hello romance), probably other stuff but idr. crocodile comes w. his own damn warning tbqh. reader sippin that clown girl juice like a champ, i’m proud <3

(if u see spelling/grammar mistakes no u didn’t 💕)

it’s late at night when he arrives at your doorstep; you’re in the middle of flipping through a magazine, the ceiling fan silent and slow, the heat a little more than tolerable as you sip a cool drink. you have no intention of entertaining anyone, but when you recognize the heaviness behind the loud knocks, you make an exception.

of course, you do, there’s no other choice but to do so.

sir crocodile is a man that takes, and takes, and takes without remorse; there’s an insatiable greed — hunger, rather — that he can’t seem to satisfy. or maybe it’s that he’s been denying himself for years and it’s finally become too much for him. a small, quiet buzz infiltrates your body when you yank open the door. you half expect to find someone else there, so you stare openly, disbelief and shock holding you in place.

he peers down at you when you stand there and don’t bother to invite him inside. he knows his presence is probably more than you can handle, but he’s a selfish man and his time is very limited right now. with a subtle nod of his head, almost as if he’s telling — no, commanding — you to let him in; he’s always been like that, wordless commands that he expects to be followed without question.

if you had more sense, you’d slam the door in his face. but sadly, you don’t.

you try not to appear too affected, but as crocodile walks inside, dark eyes taking a sweeping glance around your modest living space, you suddenly remember how to speak.

“h-how did you find me?” your voice is much too soft and timid, something he clicks his tongue at, annoyance slightly bubbling underneath his skin. maybe it’s because he hasn’t seen you in so long, or maybe it’s because he’s much too taken by your beauty — something he tried to forget but was wholly unsuccessful.

he doesn’t spare you another glance as he hangs up his coat, doesn’t bother asking for permission before he rummages through the cabinets in your kitchen to pour himself a drink, and doesn’t think anything of his overly familiar actions in a home that doesn’t belong to him when he makes himself comfortable on one of the plush armchairs in the living room.

you scurry after him, steps soft and hurried, the smoke from his cigar wafting towards you the closer you get. he tilts his head back and exhales deeply, eyes closed as he blows smoke above him — a heady, intoxicating scent that triggers memories of the nights you spent with him before.

not that it matters, but crocodile’s nerves got the best of him before he arrived; he hasn’t seen you in two and a half years, and he always wondered if someone finally snatched you up. he told himself, a long time ago, that he would wreck whatever relationship you found yourself in anyway, but the uncertainty still lingered.

do you still care for him like you claimed you always would?

it’s a question he refuses to ask you because he’s convinced that the answer will ruin his plans no matter what your response is.

when you finally snap out of that momentary stupor, you stand in front of him, eyes glossy, as if you’re holding back years’ worth of tears. but somehow, you both fall back into the same routine you swore you’d never go back to — you straddle his lap, shorts riding up your plush thighs, his golden hook cold as he uses it to lift your chin up.

you remind yourself to keep focused, to not fall for his charm again. you don’t tell him that you’ve stayed single this whole time, mostly because everyone who came into your life after him didn’t compare.

“i hate the smell of smoke,” you declare boldly, voice strained, and maybe a little needy — even though you closely press yourself to him, even though you’re shamelessly rubbing yourself against him with slow, deliberate rolls of your hips. an inescapable, irritating heat passes through him, threatening to burn him alive; already his cock gets stiff when you move on him like that. if he had a bit more sense in him, he’d just leave right now.

but old habits die hard, and for some reason, your presence alone throws him off completely.

in a good way. even though he claims otherwise.

he reminds himself that he’s only here to talk as he runs his large hand along your thigh, admiring the smoothness of your skin — the sensation oddly calming to him. the feel of his rings along the back of your thigh triggers a vivid memory that makes you inhale sharply — you remember that the last time you saw him, you were on your knees and gagging on his cock. that night he fucked you like he knew he’d never see you again; you remember how you felt like melting into him every time he buried his cock deeply in your cunt.

you want to hate him all over and never think about him again.

except you can’t, can you?

there’s a brief pause before he takes another drag from his cigar; and when he lets the silence hang for longer than necessary, you find it hard to breathe.

“and i hate liars,” crocodile says finally, conveniently forgetting that he’s a notorious liar himself. you blush and turn your face at the hidden meaning behind his words — a poor attempt to deny it — but when you look back at him, he blows smoke above your head and fixes you with a pointed look.

an absurd thought occurs, making you curl your fingers as you tug on his shirt and finally question his reappearance. jealousy coils itself tightly around your legs, making your movements sluggish and ineffective. unbecoming, utterly childish, and unavoidable — but you know he won’t listen to that sort of rhetoric. not after being away from you for so long.

you lick your lips and muster enough courage to say, “i wrote to you.” several times, in fact. you figured he was either dead or didn’t want to speak to you. a part of him wants to ask if you’re serious, but from your demure demeanor, he already knows the answer.

crocodile lets out a humorless, pitying laugh.

“it must be nice to live in delusion,” he says bitterly. you look at him, confusion evident in the way you press your lips together as your brows slope down slowly — so he just sighs, defeated by your genuine naivety that he finds terribly charming. when he drags the curve of his golden hook along your jaw, your starts beating faster than necessary, the noise so loud you can barely think straight.

he knows that when he talks to you, he has to… mind how he phrases things, and while it annoys him, he does it anyway. “do you think impel down just allows former warlords the luxury of personal mail?” it’s a rhetorical question, but you shake your head no anyway, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you grab onto his shirt again.

guilt has a nasty habit of making him more considerate than he’d care to be, especially if that guilt comes from you. it has him putting out his cigar and tossing it onto the floor; he’s not sure who kisses who first, but his lips slant against yours and move with familiarity.

your soft whimpers are a honeyed, melodic experience; they wrap around him possessively, driving him to tear through your clothes with his hook, shredding the fabric into large, unusable pieces that languidly slide off your body. a flush settles on your skin, making you feel lightheaded — each kiss more electrifying than the last as he licks inside of your mouth, tongue stroking against yours hotly.

crocodile pulls away suddenly, already feeling like the control he’s kept is practically nonexistent because your mouth is much sweeter than he remembers. your fingers tremble slightly and a breathy moan tumbles out of you when he slaps your ass hard.

the impact is a surprise — one that has you whine pitifully, arousal dripping from your slit in a way that should be embarrassing, but you’re too far gone to care. a lust-induced haze circles around him, nearly clouding his vision as you unbutton his shirt, fingers roaming against his stomach, exploring the dips and grooves between his abs. your touch is much too gentle for a man like him; he knows you deserve better, but he’s too selfish to tell you that. his cock is stiff and heavy in his pants; you relieve that ache as soon as you tug his zipper down and wrap your soft hands around him.

he watches you, amused at your focus and determination when you stroke him faster; and while he’d like to take his time with you, he doesn’t have that luxury tonight. he grabs onto your wrist, halting your movements quickly before biting your lower lip and kissing you greedily; it’s all-consuming, scalding, and possessive.

you should ask him why he’s kissing you like that when he has no intention of staying, but you know it would be an unfair question given his circumstances.

still, your curiosity eats you alive, although not for long.

he lifts you with ease and you sink down onto his thick cock, pussy tight and warm. part of what kept him sane while he was in prison was thinking of you and how much he missed being with you like this — another truth he refuses to reveal, deciding to suffer through the consequences of another failed confession on his part.

you scratch at the skin on the back of his neck the moment he bucks his hips against yours, burying most of his cock inside of you. his thrusts are quick and brutal; you do your best to match his movements, moaning loudly as he wraps an arm around you. he kisses down the length of your neck, teeth grazing your skin roughly as he bites and sucks on your skin harshly. you know there’ll be bruises and marks in the morning, but you don’t care.

all you care about is enjoying this moment with him, one that you’ll commit to memory forever.

his name comes out of your mouth sweetly, like a rhythmic and lyrical poem you crafted for him specifically. he shouldn’t care about any of that, but he can’t stop himself; and maybe he’s just tired of denying it. he tells himself that when he fucks you harder, breasts bouncing and rubbing against his hard chest; he tells himself that when he angles his hips, thrusts frenzied and powerful.

sweat glides down your skin and the heat threatens to suffocate you, both of you are panting and moaning in between kisses. you doubt your poor little heart can take much more of this, but you power through anyway. and maybe it’s because you’re tugging on his hair roughly, almost impatiently, but he takes that as a challenge, holding you steady as his cock bullies into your wet cunt. between the lewd, squelching sounds coming from your pussy and the way he simply can’t stop kissing you — like there’s a thirst he can’t seem to quench, no matter how many times he fucks you — a warmth spreads through your chest.

unbeknownst to you, though, he’s going through something similar; he realizes, belatedly, that he might not be able to let you go after this. impossible thoughts pummel through his mind, ones that he desperately tries to shove aside. intimacy and vulnerability are deadly, in his opinion, but he decides to make an exception for you — and only you.

you cum unexpectedly, hips bucking against his wildly, pussy clenching around his thick girth without remorse. you actually feel your heart skip a beat, like you’re in some romance novel, when he calls out your name — his own orgasm finding him shortly after, thrusts slowing, his cum thick and hot as it spills inside of you.

your legs turn to jelly, making it impossible to move right away, so you slump against him weakly and take deep breaths to calm yourself. he closes his eyes briefly and runs his hand up and down your back; here’s another opportune moment to say something, to say anything, but he swallows back the words, instead opting to kiss your forehead softly.

“you’re an impossible man,” you say with a sigh, blinking as you look up at him; he raises a brow at that, but doesn’t offer a rebuttal. “don’t break my heart.” you jab a finger at his chest, but your features soften when he chuckles at your demand.

another long silence follows, before crocodile speaks again, voice low, but certain as he says, “alright, i won’t.”

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criminalamnesia · 1 year

Text

Intertwined

warnings: blood, angst, heavy themes briefly mentioned (murder, alcoholism, PTSD), undefined age gap between price and reader (just a few years), not completely proofread, she/her pronouns used

summary: missions with price never seem to go as planned.

author’s note: I have no clue what this is. I just wanted to write for Price, and ended up with this long one-shot. I also tried sort of a new writing style, so let me know what you think! also this is sorta an oc x price bc I’ve given somewhat of a backstory and the callsign “viper” but you could also read it as a reader insert! :)

Sometimes she didn’t know how she got here.

Blood soaked her shirt. Her shoulder throbbed. Her fingers were sticky with blood– hers and her attacker’s.

He had gotten her good– the knife was still sticking out of her left shoulder. She knew better than to remove the blade. They were in the middle of nowhere; jungle spanned for miles around. She’d be lucky if she didn’t bleed out before her team found her.

“Viper,” Price over the radio. “Status?”

“Took a hit,” she said through gritted teeth, yanking her own knife out of her attacker’s neck. Blood spurted from the wound, pooling around the dead body. His eyes were still open, staring at her. She ignored them.

“Jus’ the shoulder. I’m good,” she told her captain. She could hear Price grunt in response. If she were anyone else, she might have thought that he didn’t care. But she wasn’t, and she knew he was concerned– worried, even.

There wasn’t anything he could do. He was too far away and in the middle of his own fight. She didn’t need his help, anyways. As she always told him:

“I’m a big girl, Cap. I can handle myself.”

That always earned an unamused hum from him.

“Keep moving then,” the crackle of his voice on the radio broke her from her thoughts.

“Roger that, Cap.”

She really didn’t know how she got here.

She hadn’t been interested in the military. Hell, it wasn’t even on her radar. She had been a girl from a shitty, small town with a decent family. She wanted to go to university, get a job, start a family.

Now she was alone in the middle of a jungle, a knife in her shoulder, and the mission the only thing she truly cared about. Well, one of the only things.

Price had found her when she was twenty-two. He wasn’t even a captain yet.

“You alright?”

His voice had startled her. She hadn’t known anyone else was in the room. Her head nodded instinctively, her eyes still on the dead bodies of her family strewn before her.

“Sir, we’ve got a survivor.” He was speaking into his radio. She heard a voice respond, but whatever was being said didn’t register in her mind.

She would come to find out later that her family wasn’t as decent as they had seemed. Her father had been in deep with a drug-lord. He’d betrayed him, ratted him out to the cops– and next thing she knew, she was sitting in a pool of her family’s blood.

Price had helped her up from the floor. Her pants were soaked through with blood. A bullet had grazed her cheek, leaving a nasty cut in its wake. Somehow she had survived, barely hurt. She didn’t think she deserved it.

She thought she should’ve died with her family.

“What’s your name, dove?” He asked her, his hand wrapped gently around her bicep. He led her out of the room. They passed more soldiers.

She told him. He said it was a pretty name. He didn’t leave her until she was situated in a hotel, two hours away. She hadn’t insisted he stay– yet he had. Perhaps he knew that she needed someone to just sit there.

Before he left, he put his number in her phone. He shouldn’t have– he knew better. But there was something about her, he just couldn’t help it. He told her to call if she needed anything. She never did.

He ran into her a year later by pure luck. She had fallen down a hole. Dropped out of school. No job, no friends. An alcoholic with a death wish. Price had saved her. He gave her a purpose. He made her smile again.

“You good, Cap?” She was moving again, eyes scanning her surroundings, her gun in her hands.

“Peachy,” was his response. She snorted.

He didn’t say anything else, and neither did she. It was supposed to be simple reconnaissance mission. In, gather intel, out. Simple.

Funny how the simple missions always seemed to go south the fastest.

“Cap,” it was Gaz now, finally piping up. He’d been quiet for some time. “Target spotted. Next moves?”

Price didn’t respond. A gunshot sounded in the distance.

“Shit,” she hissed, picking up her pace. “Captain, how copy?”

Nothing. Her blood was pounding in her ears.

“Viper, position?” She could hear the worry in Gaz’s tone.

“Heading towards the gunshot. Stay on target, Sergeant.”

“Roger,” Gaz spoke.

She raised her gun as she stepped through the foliage, hoping that when she found Price, he was still breathing.

“You broken?” Price was talking to her, a hand outstretched as he stood over her. She huffed, reaching up a shaky hand to take his.

“Not the first time I’ve been shot at.” She spoke, her voice steady, but he knew better. She was shaking like a leaf– and Price knew. He knew that she was back in that moment, seeing the blood pool around her. Seeing those lifeless eyes, lifeless bodies. It had been two years, but those images were still as fresh in her mind as if it had happened yesterday.

“Right,” he said, his tone disbelieving. “If you’re gonna stay with me, kid, you’re gonna have to keep up.”

She had kept up. She had worked ten times harder than those around her just to keep up. She was at a disadvantage– she didn’t have training or discipline. She didn’t want to follow just anyone into a firefight. She wanted to follow him.

“Price,” she was trying him again. She could hear the leaves rustling nearby. “You broken?”

A cough. Not just over the radio– to her left, too. She picked up her pace, jogging as she moved towards the sound.

“I’m solid,” he finally spoke into the radio as she found him. He looked up as she pushed past low-hanging branches. “Gaz, status?”

Gaz was talking, but she didn’t hear anything he said. She moved to the captain, eyes scanning him for his wound. He got hit in the thigh. She withheld a sigh of relief.

“Fancy new jewelry,” Price teased, the hand not pressing at his wound reached up to tap the hilt of the blade. She hissed and jerked away from him.

“This the thanks I get for coming to help your old ass?” She replied, holstering her gun and reaching for his pack. He’d gotten it partway off before giving up. She tugged it the rest of the way off his body, then began to dig for bandages.

“Thanks, dove,” he said, his voice a familiar, conceding grumble.

She pulled out the supplies and swatted his hand away from his thigh. Blood oozed from the wound. Price gave the slightest wince as she began to wrap the bandage, pulling tight in hopes of stanching the bleeding.

“Why didn’t you take it out?” He questioned, breaking the silence.

“Risk of bleeding out. Didn’t have bandages,” she shrugged. He gave a disapproving hum.

“I’ve been telling you that you need to better prepare–”

“Save the lecture for when we’re home, yeah?” She interrupted, tying off the bandage. He grunted in response.

“Cap, Viper, I’ve got the intel. What’s your position?” Gaz was talking again.

“We’re moving back towards the truck,” she said, earning an eyebrow raise from Price. “Meet you there.”

“Copy.”

Without a word between them, she ducked forward and slung one of his arms over her good shoulder, tucking herself into his side. She slowly helped him up, his only protests coming in the form of barely-there grunts.

“You broken?” She asked again once he was on his feet.

“I’m fine,” he replied, trying to hobble forward ahead of her. She scoffed and hurried to help him, wincing a little as his hand brushed the knife still in her shoulder.

“Should’ve pulled that damn knife out,” he grumbled.

“I’ll pull the knife out and stick it in your other leg, old man,” she huffed in response.

“That’s no way to talk to your captain.”

“Lecture when we’re home,” she reminded him.

“I don’t need a lecture, John.” She had seethed. Three years into her service. She was twenty-five, now. “You of all people should understand.”

“What I understand,” he began. “Is that you’re risking what you’ve built here.”

“Over seeing that guy for drinks? Are you kidding?”

“You’re being childish.” He said. His arms were crossed over his chest. He looked angry. She didn’t understand why.

“I’m trying to live again! You dug me out of that hole, John. I’m grateful for that. But I’m fine now– I don’t need a babysitter. I want to rebuild my life– make connections.”

“You’ve made connections. Me, Gaz–”

“Maybe I want something more!” She interrupted. “Maybe I want something more than a mission. More than a man who pities me and brought me here to clear his guilty conscience.”

Price bristled. “You know that’s not true.”

“I don’t know anything with you. We’re comrades, we’re friends, we’re something m–”

“Alright,” his voice was tense. “Go then.”

The truck was up ahead. Gaz wasn’t there yet. She inhaled deeply as she helped Price towards the passenger’s side.

“I can drive,” he told her. She rolled her eyes.

“Gaz is driving.” She slipped out of his grasp and left him leaning against the hood of the truck before moving to open the passenger door. “Can you make it a few steps, or do I need to help you?”

He said something under his breath, but she didn’t catch it. She watched as he limped forward, one hand on the car to support his movement. Once he made it to the door, she grabbed one of his arms to help.

“You should be keeping watch,” he scolded, but there was no real bite behind his words.

“I’d rather not have to deal with you falling and breaking a hip.”

He gave another huff– but she could see a hint of amusement on his face. He was only a handful of years older than her, but she always teased him about it. He acted annoyed, but most of the time she could tell he was trying not to laugh at her jabs. At least, she liked to think he was.

She helped him get into the truck, and he didn’t complain. They were both quiet as they moved. It was a well-practiced routine at this point. One gets hurt, one helps. Get them into the truck. Get them into the helicopter. Keep them breathing, whatever it takes.

“Viper, you die on me and I’m gonna kill you,” Price seethed, his hands pressing down hard on her abdomen. She had already lost too much blood. Her eyes were barely open.

She gave a weak chuckle at his words. “We… both know… you’re dyin’ first, old… man.”

Once he was settled in the passenger seat, she shut the door and scanned the area. It was quiet, which meant one of two things.

They were in the clear, or they were fucked.

“Gaz,” Price was back on the radio. “Position?”

One beat. Two. Three.

“Almost there– shit! They’re on my tail!” Gaz was panting over the radio.

They were fucked.

Her eyes widened as she ran to the other side of the truck, throwing open the driver’s door and jumping in. Price glanced her way, but said nothing.

She winced as she moved, the knife still in shoulder an obstacle as she frantically fumbled for the keys they’d hidden in the truck, just in case shit hit the fan.

“Price, Viper, we gotta go!” Gaz was yelling as he pushed his way into the clearing, sprinting to the truck and all but diving into the truck bed.

“I know, I know!” She shouted back, fear crawling up her spine. No matter how often she was in these positions– having to act fast or be killed– she could never shake the absolute panic that consumed her.

“Viper, focus,” it was Price, his voice bringing her back. His voice always brought her back.

Gunshots could be heard nearby. Some hit the truck and Gaz was yelling. She finally found the keys, shoved under a pile of junk in the center console. She jammed them into the ignition and the truck sputtered to life.

“Fuck, go! Go!” Gaz was returning fire, shooting into the foliage as men pushed into the clearing. Price grabbed his own gun and leaned out the passenger side window to cover them.

“I’m going!” She yelled back indignantly, stepping on the gas. The truck lurched forward, nearly throwing Gaz out.

“Viper, watch it!” He called over the gunfire.

She didn’t reply, too busy on trying to get them out of that damn jungle. Bullets dinged off the metal of the truck, but none of them hit home. She inhaled deeply as the gunfire eventually stopped, and they were in the clear.

“Bloody hell, Viper, you trying to kill me?” Gaz peeked his head through the rear window, staring at her. She rolled her eyes, hands clutching the wheel so hard her knuckles turned white.

“That’s enough, Gaz,” Price. Gaz didn’t protest, but she knew he was grumbling under his breath.

“Viper, what the hell are you doing?” Gaz was yelling at her as she stared through her scope, her eyes locked on her target. Her finger itched the trigger, but she just couldn’t bring herself to pull it.

The man had looked startlingly like her father. Her father, who had gotten almost his entire family murdered. Her father, who had lied and cheated and sealed his own fate. She didn’t know why– but she couldn’t pull the trigger.

All she saw when she looked at that man was the image of her father, smiling at her at the dinner table. Her father, teaching her how to ride a bike without training wheels. Playing games with him in the backyard. Watching movies with him. Her father.

Price shouldn’t know– couldn’t. But he did, apparently. “Gaz,” his voice was stern. “Enough. She’s got it.”

She took the shot.

“If I was tryin’ to kill you,” she threw the words at him over her shoulder. “You’d be dead.”

Gaz snorted, but didn’t take the bait. She didn’t know if she had wanted him to. Silence fell around them, then.

“Safe house is up ahead,” Price broke the silence that had consumed them for the past twenty minutes. “No bickering when we get inside, you two. Like a bunch of damn kids,” he said under his breath.

The safe house was a dilapidated little cottage on the edge of a forest. It was hidden enough to the naked eye that no one unwanted should stumble upon them, but that didn’t mean they shouldn’t be cautious. She slowed the truck to a stop behind a thick bush nearby, just in case.

The three clambered out of the truck, grabbing previously discarded gear and trudging through overgrown grass to the house. Gaz went in first to sweep the house. Once he gave the all clear, she and Price beelined for the small kitchen. Gaz was somewhere else– probably the shower.

This was their routine. Find safety and patch each other up. He usually helped her first, but she forced him into a rickety wooden chair before he could so much as gesture at the knife still in her shoulder.

Her hands were shaking as she untied the bandage around his thigh. His chin was tilted down, eyes watching her as she worked. Neither said a word. Another part of their routine.

Safety. Silence. Stitches.

She cleaned the wound. He barely flinched. She threaded the needle. He breathed in. She looked up at him, a silent signal. He breathed out as she pushed the needle into his skin and sewed the wound shut.

“Thanks, dove.” He spoke when it was done.

She gave a small nod as she finished tying off the clean bandage. She stood and started towards the kitchen sink, but one of his hands grabbed hers.

She looked down at him, still situated in the chair. His thumb brushed the back of her red-stained hand.

“Captain…” she breathed out, her eyes meeting his.

There was a softness in his gaze that she would never truly understand. She didn’t know what he saw in her.

She didn’t know why he had done what he did for her. Stayed with her after that night, all those years ago. Put his number in her phone. Pulled her out of that hole she put herself in. Helped her through her recovery. Trained her, believed in her, stuck his neck out for her.

He released her hand.

She really didn’t know how she got here.

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misfithive · 7 months

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Thank you for the way you handled that ask about Wille's and Simon's drama. Because that sentence 'On the other hand, Simon needs to have a bit of more drama thrown at him' made me so furious. It was so insensitive! The fact that he suffers in silence and alone in his room not to bother other people doesn't mean he doesn't suffer enough and needs some more! The fact that he didn't jump on the table or say he feels like dying doesn't make his experience any less traumatic than Wille's. What he needs is to process his trauma rather than brushing it aside, not to get some more.

Once again thank you, you put it all beautifully.

Yes 😭 this is a very common hope for Simon to get pushed to the point of a breakdown but it’s like .. at what cost?😩 He has been thru enough trauma for a lifetime and a half. And the thing is, most people cannot actually stop and process the trauma if they are constantly being hit with more. I think we are more likely to get simon opening up if he is able to find safety which he did not really have. he is expected to be the strong one by everyone in his life. His friends try their best but still, telling him to rebound is the same message him mother gives him of “you are strong”. Bc they dont want him to sit with his feelings and cry (it’s uncomfortable and not the norm for them), they want him to forget about the Prince and move on. Up until s3 he has not had someone to cry to- thats why he writes his songs and holds wille’s sweater. Even when he is talking to Rosh and Ayub in the kitchen if he was actually crying to them i feel they would show it- it appears he probably cried on the way home before they came (this is my hc if yall think he cried to them u can believe that if u want)

i think Simon’s character is very accurate to what a lot of men, people socialized as men, and also people of color experience and how we deal with our emotions. I get that for a lot of people it is cathartic to sob but for many of us, crying like that especially in front of someone else is terrifying. we are conditioned that letting other people see u in that vulnerable state is a weakness (puts you in danger or will be used against you & that anger is safer). I know some men who have not cried since they were children and told me they dont even remember what it feels like to cry or how to actually let the tears fall from their eyes. It is messed up. Is that fair? No. Is it true that it is a weakness? No. But not everyone learns that. The patriarchy sucks and harms us all lol i wish people would understand that and have empathy for the deep sadness that simon is carrying and hiding whether he lets it out or not.

Not to mention everyone deals with their trauma differently and i think it is cool that the show is realistic and shows people dealing with things in different ways. Simons character is relatable bc of this and instead of people saying “it’s not fair that Wille gets to express himself in this way and Simon doesn’t” i want people to think about WHY Simon is not be able to. I know wanting simon to cry comes from a good place but it does upset me a little bit bc even if he doesnt have a breakdown s3, that doesnt mean that the writers hate him and arent doing his story justice which is what people say abt s2. At the same time, if he does have a break down, that would be totally warranted. i'm just saying that if it doesn't happen that's valid too.

THAT BEING SAID. I think s3 is a great opportunity for Simon to hear from Wille that he doesnt always have to be strong and that Wille can be a reliable safe space. I think Wille’s tenderness is something that Simon sees and now that they are on good terms and Wille has worked to rebuild the trust, I hope Simon will turn to Wille for emotional support however that looks.

Ermmmn I’m very sorry that this turned into a dump but i had to get it off my chest.(made a few edits for clarity and spelling mistakes bc i posted this in the middle of the night)

#misfit answers asks #young royals #this is not targeted at the first anon i just see it a lot and have a lot to say on the topic #simon eriksson

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lowkeyrobin · 2 months

Note

okay i’ve been requesting this idea with other fandoms i’m in for a while and it’s not being done so i don’t know if they don’t want to write or or can’t figure out how to write it BUT…

you belong with me by t swift ♡ with our beloved freddie badlinu ♡

basically like reader got introduced to freddie by tommy and fell head over heels (definitely not me projecting /hj) but he just thinks of reader as a friend and eventually starts dating someone else yada yada i love this song

you don’t have to write it but i just love this idea (and song ♡)

-🦕 anon

OKG HI 🦕 ANON YES KF COURSE!! RJJSNSNSNS YESYESYES KM SO EXCITED FOR THIS, there's a lot of ts lyric references here bc I used the premise of ybwm but the feelings of her other songs iykwim; hopefully I did you justice with this and thank you SO MUCH for requesting Freddie bc I've been wanting to write for him again and I couldn't think of any good ideas LMFAO

BADLINU ; you belong with me

summary ; you're head over heels for Freddie, but he doesn't seem to feel the same way

warnings ; language

genre ; one party fallen in love kinda angst, a solid portion of this is reader ranting about Freddie's perfections

word count ; 1.5k

masterlist

The day you'd met Freddie through Tommy five years ago, you instantly fell head over heels. You didn't know exactly why, but there was no hiding your feelings anymore, it was so hopelessly obvious, even to Tommy.

The blonde, your best friend, tried to set you guys up here and there, alas, with no luck.

At first, you were convinced you were getting that usual feeling where you kind of fixate on your friend until it disappeared, until it never really did. You talked with him constantly, learned more about him, and learned about the music he liked and his hobbies.

He had an infectious smile that could light up the whole town and a giggle to make you fall to your knees as you felt something in your stomach become fuzzy with a tossing and turning motion. You wonder what it must be like to grow up that beautiful, with his hair falling into place like dominoes, his eyes like sinking ships on waters, so inviting you want to jump in.

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love him, like he was a walking masterpiece. Not many people see him like how you do, his little imperfections and beauties.

You couldn't stop him putting roots in your little dreamland, your house of stone and his ivy grows, covering you in himself. You thought of him at every waking moment, catching yourself doing it frequently when you didn't mean too. If you saw or heard something that reminded you of him, it'd send a wave of dopamine through your brain, infecting you with the disease of happiness with a smile.

You remember him taking a bus to your house in the middle of the night, needing your comfort since you were still awake at that hour, and also the only person he felt safe talking to about what he was upset about it. You were the person to make him laugh when he was about to cry, the one to understand him on deeper levels than most, the one to know his story and his dreams.

Your viewers and fans would often ship you two, drawing fanart, writing fanfiction, and spamming y/s/n in chat whenever you had one of those moments. You streamed together whenever you could, and made YouTube videos frequently featuring each other.

You sat on your balcony at night together sometimes, star gazing.

He says "Look up"

Your shoulders brushed. No proof, one touch, but you felt enough. Enough for you, at least.

He keeps a picture of you two in his office at home downtown. It hangs on the wall with many other pictures of him with his friends. You thought you felt it in the silence and in the way home, with the lights out watching movies. But you seemed to be wrong.

Why couldn't he see that you were right there? Had the thought ever crossed his mind that maybe you loved him so much that maybe he belonged with you? Why couldn't he see that you were the one to understand him, who'd been there all along?

He found a girl he liked, and started officially dating her a month or two ago. After that, you'd never lost hope that maybe he'd see you, but within all the losing more and more hope, Tommy was there for you. He didn't exactly know how to comfort you, but reassured you that it was normal to feel this way, and that you'd move on with time.

You seemed to be the only person to not find love, you felt like you were cursed to be alone forever and watch the one person you truly loved go and love someone else. You couldn't move on, everything reminded you of him, every forest themed candle at the market, every pebble on the seaside, every star in the sky.

You knew he was happy at least, but you just wished that something inside of him would see that you were right there.

Over time, you distanced yourself, though wanting to remain friends with him. You just couldn't seem to see him without his girlfriend, and it hurt. Everytime you remembered that there was no point in trying, it broke your heart even more. It became so bad to the point that it was unhealthy, leading you to send him a text before leaving for a little trip to America.

It read 'Stay beautiful'.

You sent it just before getting on the plane, ridding you of any worry of receiving a message during the long flights. You'd only told Tommy and Tubbo that you were leaving, considering you streamed with them frequently and would probably be the first to notice you disappearing.

You decided a little trip to Folley Beach, South Carolina would be your therapy. Four thousand dollars for a week stay in a solid three star condo wasn't going to work, though. You had some connections, however, getting you a cheaper condo considering it was only you, and you'd be spending a month or two. Six thousand was much better than the probably forty thousand you'd have to pay for that, thank God. Yeah, maybe using your save-up-money wasn't the best idea, but you needed it at the moment.

Your mental health had been declining for a while, and you felt stupid for being so dramatic about the situation with Freddie. But, a trip to the beach and the opportunity to experience things you never had and make some content out of it wasn't something you'd pass up on.

From trying bubble tea to the fresh, clean, oceanside air, it was like a daydream. You took so many photos and videos, sending them to some friends and saving them for a video.

Trying all the food was amazing, which you probably gained a solid ten pounds from. The long walks along the island, down the beach, and down the graffiti road to the other side of the beach were sweltering hot but therapeutic to you.

Once you returned to the UK, opening your front door, you're surprised to see Tommy, Freddie, Tubbo, and Becky in your house, cleaning up for you. Tommy had a spare key to your place, which is probably how you got in. You were confused, but got a little uncomfortable seeing Freddie, especially without his girlfriend on a Sunday afternoon. You'd been gone for two months with nearly no contact, maybe something changed.

You still had feelings for the red-haired boy, but you lost hope on him ever seeing how he felt about you during your trip. You'd gotten over it and you were on your path to just moving on.

"Hi" Tommy smiles, giving you a wave as he stands up, "Sorry, uh, we just came to clean for you since you've been gone for like, ever-"

"It's fine" You reply, "I mean, I could've just cleaned it myself, guys."

"Well, we came over for something else, but we thought you were coming back next Sunday, not this Sunday" Becky explains, looking to the boys for a nod or agreement, or an excuse since she already knew what your next question would be.

"Came for what?" You ask, setting your bags down on the floor, deciding they could wait.

"Uh-" The blonde begins before the shorter brunette speaks for him.

"We were gonna throw you a welcome home party"

"Oh"

Silence condemns you for a moment before you speak again.

"Well, uh, thanks. But, I'm gonna unpack" You pick up your belongings, taking them back to your bedroom, leaving them with a little wave.

Christ, that was so awkward. What's wrong with you? Since when had you gone cold to your friends?

The second you sat down, you felt the wave of regret. Freddie was the first to come in and ask if you were okay, though.

"Hey, are you okay? You're either tired and jetlagged or upset to, uh, probably see me, " He mumbles, running a hand through his hair. "And before you say anything, I was a dick for not seeing how you felt about me, and I was completely blind, and I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do at the moment, but I wanted to genuinely apologize, because I made you feel like you had to leave home because you were so uncomfortable because of me"

"Freddie..." You sigh, setting your electronics from your bag down on your bed, "It's fine. I didn't leave because of you, I left because I just needed a break from here, nothing is your fault. I'm on my path to moving on, so don't make it more awkward than it already is" You chuckle, sitting on the bed across from him as he stands in the doorway. "I swear, if you apologize one more time I will kick your ass"

Freddie smiles and nods, "Thank you. Are you sure this isn't going to ruin anything between us..? I don't wanna lose you as a friend"

"That's what I was asking you!" You giggle, "But yeah, unless you fuck up"

His eyes slightly widen, playing into the bit, "I won't, your majesty."

"Good"

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #ranboo x reader #badlinu x reader #tubbo x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #mcyt x gn reader

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akiranzee · 3 months

Note

💐🥺 some flowers for ya! Akaza who is kinda jelly of Reader, who is Muzan's fave bc they've always completed the tasks they were given. But here's the thing; Reader is crushing on Akaza. HARD. what to do? was thinkin fluff but you can add more to it, ehe. (no degredation pls)

🪻 • ° ` — “CHANGE OF FEELINGS”

-> PAIRINGS: Akaza x f!Uppermoon 4!Y/n -> SUMMARY: Eyes that have seen the meaning, hearts that have learned to love, and demons that have experienced the good. -> WORD COUNT: 1.3k+ -> CONTAINS: fluff, mention of blood, & akaza is 200 while reader is 180. -> A/N: FLOWERS FOR U TOO‼️‼️💐🌷🌹🌹🌺. there is no koyuki in this unfortunately☹️☹️. blue spider lillies here appear at night, but still twice or thrice a year, sry this also took long, this was kind of hard to write😭😭. AND i ran into some problems on tumblr,, still hope u like it tho!

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------------Complete!------------

A deep chuckle could be heard erupting from the depths of the Demon King’s throat, “as expected from you. Very well then, you have earned yourself a week of rest.” He says, as you softly smiled to have pleased your king.

But again and again, one is not pleased by this. Akaza’s fists were brutally clenched as he hears this for thousands of times already. No, that shouldn’t be you. That should be him. He’s supposed to be Muzan’s favorite, not you. How dare you try to steal his spot when you’ve only become an uppermoon for just half a year? No. He won’t allow this. You? An uppermoon 4? Beat him? An uppermoon 3? No no, he won’t allow this. He will never allow this.

“Akaza, I assume you have something good to report to me?” Muzan looked at a wall, knowing Akaza was behind it. Muzan’s deep, demonic voice sent shivers down Akaza’s spine, and yours too.

“Y/n, you’re dismissed.” A part of you wanted to stay and say something, but your entirety would end if you do so.

“Hm? Anything else?” Muzan asked, no — demanded you to tell him why you’re so hesitant. After all, he knows everything about his creations. From the physicality, to the mentality.

“Um... If I may be so bold to ask, master.. May I request a favor?” As Muzan’s gaze transferred down towards you, shivers crawled up to your spine, as you gulped down the lump forming in your throat.

~~~~~

You sat on top of a tree, in the middle of the night. You were quite happy and relieved that Muzan had accepted your favor, but didn’t know if he had obliged it.

As the wind softly hit your face, you spotted a certain someone below. It was none other than Akaza, looking as happy as ever.

Akaza started to take his top off, revealing all the muscle and the chiseled body he was hiding behind that cropped sleeveless haori.

It seemed like Akaza was happy, and that Muzan didn’t hurt him at all. You were glad when Muzan really obliged your request. Huh. The perks of being the favorite.

You watched Akaza as he trained, his muscles flexing at any given angle. And you sure were enjoying the show.

“Gonna keep watching?” Akaza suddenly asked, causing you to blush profusely as you were caught to have been enjoying his training session quite a bit too much.

“Just so you know, I’m not dumb enough to not see you from up there.” Akaza’s tone quickly changed to one that’s too hostile, one that immediately made you lose all the red in your face.

“N-No, Akaza-san, I-I’m only just-” A stuttering mess you are, but Akaza paid no mind to it and cut you off.

“Just because you’re Muzan-sama’s favorite, doesn’t mean that you’re any better than me. Remember this; I am uppermoon 3, and you’re only uppermoon 4.” And with that, Akaza left. God, he was so fucking hot when angry. That’s how down bad you are for him. You didn’t even pay mind with how he indirectly insulted you, only thinking of ways to get him to atleast see you as a comrade, not a foe.

And you just so happened to know the best way to do that.

Unknowingly to Akaza, you purposely made yourself suspicious for the past few days just for him to keep an eye and follow you around.

And, when the day comes, Akaza, after losing you from his sight, stumbled upon an open field. Not just any open field, but an open field full of blue spider lillies.

You knew how much this means to Akaza, especially when he has tried his very best to look for these. You sat down in the middle of the bloomed blue spider lillies, one that looked like a goddess, more like a human than a demon. You were just too beautiful to be a demon.

You felt Akaza’s eyes lay on you. He had never once, in fact, see a woman this beautiful up until this day.

But no, he sees you as a foe — he must see you as a foe. Even if you wanted to be comrades, friends, or even more than that, he must not allow it. No, it’d be ironic anyway for a demon as evil as him to learn how to love.

Perhaps his hatred toward you was just only for the reason that you were Muzan’s favorite. Yet he only looked at you that way, believing you were as evil as the others to even dare take his spot when you know being Muzan’s favorite was the goal he always wanted, yet failed to reach.

But no, you were not like the others — in fact, you were far more different than them. So different that he has started to see you in a new light.

“Akaza-san, what are you doing here?” You asked and tried to act clueless, looking up at him with eyes that were a thousand more beautiful than hundreds of stars combined, as the galaxy reflected on your sweet, sweet eyes.

Akaza walked closer to you, and silently asked, “How did you find these?”

“Well, I frequent here.” You lied. You know yourself you literally took days, weeks, or months, even going as far as to neglect Muzan’s assigned missions to you.

Then, the silence longers. You only stared at each other’s eyes, whilst admiring how the fresh wind hits the both of you gently.

“The moon has set.” You suddenly said, looking up behind Akaza to look at the moon more clearly, the moonlight shone and sparkled before you, serving as spotlights for the both of you as if you��re the only ones that exist.

Silence lingers once again, the tension has become quite too awkward for the both of you. Your relationship has always been like this. But, there was a change. Right now, Akaza’s once hatred-filled eyes turned to one of admiration.

One that finally admired you in a way of finally seeing the real you, not the you he expected you to be. It seems, that Muzan has changed his perspective of you, his thoughts of you, and even the way he feels about you.

There’s just something about you that he can’t get over with.

Maybe it’s because of the fact that you still help him despite his growing and obvious hatred for you, or maybe because your smile tells him there’s more to it than what he thinks...?

Either way, you smile widely and shiny as the moon when you could see the change within him. Maybe, just maybe, will your feelings get reciprocated?

~~~~~

“I apologize, I have failed to find the blue spider lilies, Lord Muzan.” Akaza hung his head down low in shame, prepared for his usual punishment.

You winced and closed your eyes as you looked at the bloody scene from afar. Confusion was still within you, though. Why would he not even take those blue spider lillies?

You gasped as you saw Muzan dissapear in thin air as Akaza slowly stood up whilst trying to regenerate half of his face.

Akaza sauntered weakly towards you, “Why are you up here?” he asked, as blood spilled out of his mouth.

You wiped the blood off of his face, “well... why did you not even take the blue spider lillies?”

“Because you found it. Not me.”

“Well, I led you to it.”

“You still found it.” Akaza, as stubborn as ever, doesn’t want to take credit for something great you achieved. If ever, it should be you who must give it to Muzan, and yet you decline, wanting Akaza to instead do it.

“I think Muzan-sama doesn’t hate you.” You say, sitting down beside Akaza.

Akaza only scoffed, knowing it is a mere lie only to make him feel better.

“Otherwise, if he did, he wouldn’t let you handle such a task that would change the demons’ lineage forever. That, is especially a good change.” You caressed his right cheek as you smiled, his other cheek slowly healing.

“...I don’t think so.” He tried to deny, but the smile on his face says otherwise. The fact can’t be changed that he was indeed comforted by what you said.

The both of you chuckled in unison as you laid on your backs, looking up at the bright roof on top of you.

It was cold, yet the feeling of being close with each other was warm enough to know that everything’s fine and comforting.

From that then on, the both of you felt as close as ever. Both your minds and hearts wished that this moment would go on for as long as life continues.

★ • ° ` — BONUS:

“Akazaaa, aren’t you getting hungry? C’mon, let’s eaaaaatt!!” You whined as you tried to pull your beloved inside a restaurant of the red light district, after having a tiring battle with the demon slayers.

Yet, he was being stubborn, not wanting to spend the precious money his dear lord had lent him for this disguised-undercover mission.

“No, the money is not enough.” A lie. When he literally had a bag of coins swinging by his waist. But that simple excuse doesn’t work on you, as you continued to pull Akaza with you towards the restaurant.

Then finally, Akaza gave in, as you almost stumbled on your own, Akaza grinning the shit-eating wide grin he had ever done.

You huffed in annoyance, but that didn’t stop you from finally getting in the restaurant, mouth gaped open at how fancy it looked on the inside, rather than outside. Then, a much more eye-catchy thing caught your attention.

“Look, ‘kaza! Don’t these foods make you hungry at all?” You exclaimed as you had finally entered the restaurant along with Akaza, looking at the menu.

“You’re a demon... how come human food makes your mouth water?” Akaza looked at you with disbelief, as you wrapped your arm around his arm, whilst you looked up and smiled at him, “well, any food is delicious!”

“Whatever. Muzan-sama only gave me ¥300.” He said, jingling the bag of coins he had, “well, that’s more than enough! See! This one only costs ¥100!” You pointed at the food displayed on the menu as your eyes sparkled in delight.

“Pleasee, ‘kaza?” He swears, that he’s only paying the precious money for you to stop begging like a child, not because you looked so fucking cute looking up at him with those sparkling eyes of yours.

He glanced at the coins one last time, before handing it to the chef. As you squealed silently in joy, you pulled him on a seat near the window, admiring the beauty the city lights held at night from the 2nd floor. It were like huge stars in front of you, sparkling against your eyes.

Being a demon was, well, hard. Everyone loathes you, those demon slayers are after your head, and no one will ever be by your side. But luckily, you have Akaza. And admiring a peaceful scenery such as this one makes you forget even for a moment that you were hated by the whole world.

“Akaza-san... what if we were humans instead of demons?” You suddenly asked, as Akaza’s attention was now on you.

“Why ask?” He too, looked at the lights shining below. And then, he had finally realized the answer.

“Light may be beautiful. But darkness has its own beauty too. We are immortals, stronger than these humans.” Akaza answered nonchalantly, but he too, wondered. If he never became demon, would he even ever get to meet you?

“...Right. Aren’t we also like humans now? I think this is what humans call a ‘date’.” You softly said, as you looked around you, everyone was being lovey-dovey.

Akaza turned his head away, trying to hide the forming pink in his face. You only giggled, as the food has been served.

~~~~~

A stroll in a peaceful, starry night on a windy open field hand in hand with someone. More so, this someone who you had always long loved.

“The stars are so bright, aren’t they, ‘kaza?” Akaza only hummed in response, looking up too at the stars that formed hundreds of constellations.

“Say, why did you suddenly like me, ‘kaza?” You asked, as you sat down on an open field, where the blue spider lillies last bloomed.

“Just... fate I guess.” He sat along with you, your fingers still intertwined together.

“Hmm... fate you say... then does that mean we are fated to be together?” You asked and looked up at him hopefully, but Akaza didn’t answer. He was left silent, nor did he even bat you an eyesight. He couldn’t answer, or perhaps he didn’t know the answer.

A soft sigh left your lips. He was still the little tsundere you have always loved, and still love. So, you took the first move.

You cupped his cheeks on your hands, and leaned in. Akaza was taken aback, but he too, returned the affection you had given him.

Being breathless was an understatement. You feel like you could die. The feeling was way too good to even think of anything else. You couldn’t even have the chance to think that Muzan could have witnessed this public display of affection.

“...Why did I make these demons again?” Muzan asked himself, as he could feel himself combusting at the ghastly scene in his mind, lovey feelings flowing through his veins. He couldn’t continue on what he was doing now.

a/n: haha poor muzan

#📂 — ` akira’s works!#anime #kny #fluff #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #akaza #kny akaza #akaza kny #demon slayer akaza #akaza demon slayer #akaza kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba akaza #akaza x reader #akaza x y/n #akaza x you

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rosebloodcat · 10 months

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Invisible Wally AU

Quick Explanation of the Invisibility before I get into the AU: In Moomins, they say that Invisibility is caused by being scared. The character who was invisible, a little girl named Ninny, had been in the care of her very mean/verbally cruel Aunt and turned invisible because of how awfully her aunt treated her. And it took the care/kindness of the Moomin family who wanted to both see and know her that got her to become visible again.

It's very much an abuse victim reaction/mindset, but I don't think it's the only kind of "fear" that could cause invisibility.

As someone who went through a bout of depression in middle/high school and decided that I didn't want to have people notice me, I tend to liken that "Fear" to it too.

Fear of being noticed or a bother to people around you that you care about (and plenty that you don’t even know). Fear of people you love growing to hate you/not want you around. Fear of being hurt again because the people around you won't want to see or be around the "real" you if they saw it.

The invisibility isn’t just being unseen; nothing the person writes can be seen either, and they have no voice and can’t make sounds with instruments. It’s genuinely like they aren’t there EXCEPT: They’re still physical (able to touch and be touched) and they still cast a shadow.

With that done, let’s get into the au!

Invisible Wally AU:

(Heads up, this will get upsetting bc I'm also explaining the root feelings that cause the invisibility and they’re a mix of fear, depression, and self-depreciation)

First off; Wally starts as the only one in Home that's Self-Aware, as such he's carrying the brunt of the Audience's attention, good and bad. (Technically, Home is also self-aware but it doesn't get even half the weight of this as Wally does.)

For the entire day, when he's outside Home (and even when he isn't sometimes) he can feel the weight of the Audience's gaze on his back and the pressing Need for everything to be perfect, all the time. From the styling of his hair to his clothes to the way he talks, everything has to be perfect. Perfectly in place and perfectly blank. No getting angry, no getting frustrated, no sadness, no wanting to be alone, not being able to say "No" when someone else wants to do something, nothing that wouldn't be seen as "negative" in some form. Like the host of a Daytime TV show, he can't be seen as anything but agreeable and willing to go along with anything he's asked.

That feeling doesn't leave until nightfall, quickly becoming the only time Wally feels like he can breathe and be himself.

Where he can groan in frustration, wrap himself in heavy blankets and lay on the floor in heap, screaming into pillows and throwing them around, complain to Home about the tedium that's driving him mad.

(He used to like bright colors, but now he hates them and wishes he could wear something, anything, else instead.)

After a while, he notes that he and Home seem to realize something is wrong. They're the only ones to notice/feel this impossible pressure to always be "TV ready" as he's started thinking of it. They just go through their days following the pre-decided, unspoken "schedule" that's fallen over their neighborhood.

If anything, they seem happy with everything happening. (Perfectly Happy, even.)

And it's wearing him down because when he tries to defy those Needs, he gets "punished" for it.

Trying to refuse to do something, like not going out for the day, makes his anxiety (which he did not have prior to this) spike wildly, driving him into a panic that usually forces him to follow the "plan" of the day. Trying to speak up makes his throat close up or for the wrong words to start spilling out. He can't argue against something that someone else wants to do, even if he tried (and he has, on several occasions).

He feels trapped, and that this "Audience" doesn't actually give a damn about him, just the entertainment he can act as a vehicle for.

They don't want to hear what he thinks or feels, they don't even want to see real him. Just the alternate "Perfect" version that follows their direction without voice or resistance. And that idea spreads, over time, until he wonders if his friends even care about the real him, or just the Perfect version that they've been interacting with.

These thoughts are what make him start to disappear, starting with his voice which grows fainter and fainter with each passing day. (And yet no one seems to notice how much quieter he is.)

When he starts to visibly fade from sight, Home tries to help by keeping him inside. They think that, if they can keep him out of the Audience’s view (even for just a little while) Wally will start to feel/get better.

Unfortunately, this isn’t as helpful as Home thinks it is.

“Leaving Home” is part of the schedule and not doing that trigger’s a “punishment” for Wally. He knows that Home was trying to help, but Home doesn’t feel the Audience’s displeasure the same way Wally did. Thankfully, “sick” days seem to allow some leeway, so he’s able to spend at least one day alone with just Home for company.

Then Home keeps him in another day, and then another, and another, until he’s spent almost a week inside Home instead of following the Script of the Day. (And suffering the punishments for not doing so) He feels like a miserable wreck, has probably cried a few times, and just…

He feels terrible.

But what makes it worse (in Wally’s mind) is the fact that none of his friends come looking for him.

He hadn’t seen or spoken to anyone in a week (other than Home), and yet no one came by to try and find out what was wrong. And Home hadn’t mentioned anyone trying to speak with them. It was like no one had even noticed that he wasn’t there.

And that thought stings. It hurts. It hurt much more than he’d thought it could.

(He had hoped that had been real, on some level. That they cared about HIM and not the Perfect him. Maybe he’d been wrong…)

He goes to bed that night with an aching heart, and climbs out the next morning completely invisible and completely silent.

Home, of course, is panicked. They had seen him fading, slowing vanishing before their eyes but there had been nothing they could do. They hadn’t been able to stop it, all they could do was curse the Audience for starting all of this.

Strangely though, there’s relief. The Audience can’t see him anymore and, though he can feel their displeasure at not being able to find him, he can’t feel a “punishment” taking hold of him. He still feels miserable, but it feels like a tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He can’t be forced to follow the script if no one can see him, he can do what he wants, go where he liked, and no one would be able to stop him.

(But there was nowhere he wanted to go, few things he wanted to do. He had the options, but no drive to follow them through…)

Through a bit of trial and error, the two build a new “normal”.

They figure out that, while he can’t be seen or heard, Home can still feel where Wally is and, if he taps on things using the same mores-code that Home uses, they can still “Talk” to each other. Which soothes some of Home’s fears, since they now know where he is and can still check on him.

It takes a bit for them to figure out the other details of this strange situation. Like how far the invisibility extends.

Whatever Wally wears/puts on will turn invisible too, and the stuff he takes off will turn visible again after a while. He finds clothes in muted colors at the back of his wardrobe and ends up making them his “standard” clothes while in this state. No one but he and Home know they’re there, but the control it gives him helps his mood a bit. It was nice knowing that he wasn’t letting himself be completely controlled by the Need to be Perfect anymore.

What ends up distressing Wally the most is that he can’t seem to paint anymore. When he tries to put paint on canvas, it’s as invisible as he is. As an artist (and as someone who just enjoyed painting) this was understandably upsetting since painting had been one of the few outlets he had for his feelings.

He spends a lot of his time puttering around and wrestling with his emotions and the situation he’s found himself in.

Of course, that’s just Wally’s side of things.

#invisible wally au #wally darling #welcome home au #welcome home #wh au #rosie writes #rosies aus #I welcome people who want to try their hands at writing for this #genuinely i do #i will try #of course #but I want to see what others come up with #also asks about this are welcome

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madhattervanessa · 1 year

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Hope

We have finally done it! After a few requests and a long time spent fighting this drabble, I’m giving you a few cute first meeting moments of Glorfindel x f!reader from Faith - there might be another one coming but this honestly already took me months bc I found their relationship hard to pin down. I hope y’all enjoy and have a nice day

Pairing: Glorfindel x f!Reader

Summary: As Glorfindel tries dealing with the aftermath of his rebirth to Middle Earth, someone catches on to his struggles.

Warnings: kind of PTSD/Panic Attack vibes bc you can not tell me this guy doesn’t have some trauma, tender tender loving, nudity/skinny dipping, alcohol consumption, neck touching

Words: 1796

Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

It’s the time of the year when the first sunbeams truly warm the stones again.

Winter is not as harsh as he remembered it in the time… before. But he is able to admit that spring doesn’t quite reach underneath his skin. It’s like he is buried under ash and blood, still.

As Glorfindel strides through the hallways of Imladris, he tries to see the beauty in the reflections of the sun on the floor, the green hues it casts as it shines through the first leaves appearing outside.

But the serenity of nature feels … distant. More than ever, he feels out of touch from this world.

His blunt fingernails bite into the palms of his hands as he keeps walking, his boots coming down hard on the stone floor as he enters the park, trying desperately to calm his breath but the wind carding through his hair does nothing but irritate him further, like bellows on a hot fire.

He walks deeper, into the edge of the woods - the fire in him burning, burning, threatening to singe his control but there’s the edge of the lake and he starts hurriedly tugging at his clothes, shedding everything down to his pants and boots.

He feels the itch inside him crawl upwards, up, until it hits the back of his throat and he barely manages to shake off his second boot before he jumps headfirst into the lake.

The icy cold of the water envelops him, shocks his systems back into form, whips them back into discipline as he lets the burn inside of him simmer.

When he breaches the surface, he takes a gasping breath - his heart is still hammering in his chest but as he wipes his hair back from his face, he feels his composure return from the edge.

When he opens his eyes and blinks to adjust to the sunlight, there’s another reflection over the water. He is ready to write it off as a trick of his mind- another memory become flesh, a ghost of his past haunting him.

Ecthelion, maybe.

But then he blinks again and she is still there, staring at him, in the water.

Her lips are parted and she seems torn between amused and worried as she floats across from him.

“Are you alright?”

He swallows hard and tries to calm his panting breath from the running.

She directs a soft smile at him and he suddenly feels exposed, open like a raw wound, his words failing him.

She tilts her head and her brows fall to a frown.

“You look… pale.” It seems like she wanted to say something else. He’s glad she didn’t.

He huffs and his smile comes unwillingly but still- the wound closes, and the breeze over his wet skin calms him, this time.

“That’s certainly one way to phrase it”, he murmurs and the demure batting of her lashes makes some of his confidence return, makes his heart thrum just enough that he feels like he is in control of his body again.

“I try not to judge handsome strangers.” Her eyes meet his and he feels his breath stop briefly, though this time for an entirely different reason. He suddenly feels very aware of both of their states of dress in the lake.

“I don’t usually swim in a lake with strangers either”, he retorts and she huffs out a laugh before introducing herself.

“So? Are you alright? You look perturbed. I have seldom seen someone so eager to jump into a cold lake just at the beginning of spring.”

“It calms me”, he admits, still hesitant as he swims towards a more shallow part of the lake where he can stand in the water, his shoulders exposed to the cold breeze.

She follows, slowly, and when he turns to look at her, he almost swallows his tongue - the way the sunlight is reflected by the ripples of the water makes her seem even more ethereal to him.

“I haven’t quite been feeling like myself, lately.”

She hums, before leveling another look at him.

“May I ask who you are? I have just arrived for the spring celebrations, yesterday.”

“Then it’s my pleasure to welcome you to Imladris; I am Captain Glorfindel.”

“Oh.” Her eyes go wide before she seems to recollect herself. “It’s a pleasure to meet you - though I had hoped to be introduced to you a bit differently.” She comes closer to the edge and he glances over to the soft grass, easily spotting a dress laying close to a stone.

Their eyes meet and she wades closer to him. He averts his eyes as the water threatens to expose her to him.

She brushes against him and he instinctively looks down to where he feels her hand boldly touching him. Her fingertips drag over his collarbone, over the dip of his throat and his shoulder.

He almost follows the line over to her body but he manages to focus back on the water.

She chuckles and he smiles as he hears her leaving the water. He keeps his eyes on the soft ripples in the lake as she dresses. He unclenches his hands underwater and takes a deep breath.

“Will I see you at the festivities?”

“I shall make an effort”, he mutters and furrows his brows, trying to listen closely to the sound of her slipping back into her dress.

When he hears her steps drawing closer again, he turns his head towards her.

He raises a hand to push more of the soothing water through his hair, though he doesn’t miss the way her eyes follow the motion.

“I hope you won’t have to.”

When he sees her coming down the path towards the hall the next evening, he feels a wave of calm wash over him. Just like the lake had enveloped him, her smile and her mere company calm him.

A distraction.

“There you are.”

“Here I am, Captain.”

He straightens up out of reflex alone as she slips into his shadow, close enough he can not only see every detail of her eyes but feel her warmth, too.

“Are you feeling better, today?”

He offers her his arm and she takes it but doesn’t avert her curious gaze, doesn’t start walking off with him.

“I’m still trying to find out.”

The answer seems to satisfy her and she looks him up and down briefly before tugging him along.

“Maybe I can hurry that along.”

She does. She gently prods him to dance, to accept a carefully woven crown of just flowering buds, to drink the fresh spring water later replaced with wine and stay alongside everyone else when she holds a gentle prayer for the festivities.

When she returns from the middle of the room, he reaches for her without thinking. She lets him, easily slipping into the arm he had hesitantly extended. He holds her close by her waist as she leans up to press her cheek against his, smearing some of the white paint on to his skin.

“Happy Yavanna”, he murmurs into her ear and she draws back from him with a radiant smile.

The next breath he takes seems to reach deep into his lungs, lures him out of his dissonance as the lights glint behind her, bathing her in a beautiful glow that he can’t seem to get away from.

“Happy Yavanna”, she whispers back and his eyes fall to where he has smeared the paint in her face.

He frowns, already about to apologize but she just laughs and rubs a knuckle over his cheek.

“Looks like we match”, she teases and he feels his breath catch at the playful look in her eyes. The music starts again and there’s that warmth he had been missing since taking his first breath again after eons.

“We do.”

Her chuckles echo in the halls and make him glance at her as they leave.

The wine from the woodlands had stained her lips a deep, berry red and he can’t find it in himself to look away or to let go - the celebrations extend far beyond the initial hall and there are laughs and whispers to be heard throughout the entire building, out into the yard where Glorfindel could swear he saw one of his soldiers run off to with a blushing handmaiden.

He is about to call after the young elf, a reprimand, maybe, but the tug at his own hand tugs something loose in his heart- makes him ask himself where that part of himself had gone that had encouraged these young elves to strive to leave off of the beaten path. To live.

He casts his gaze back to her and wraps an arm around her waist when she stumbles.

She has barely left his side all evening and now she feels even more warm, especially as she splays one of her hands over the exposed skin of his arm, holding on to him as he walks her back to her rooms.

When they finally make it there, she turns to stand in front of him- towered by his presence, the light of the hallway barely illuminates her face.

There's a faint shout and he jumps, his shoulders squaring up - but her hands are quick to soothe, a soft murmur following, as he feels her take his hand, her other on his chin to draw his look back towards her.

She leans up and pushes her forehead against his. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

They share the moment in silence and he lets his finger play with a ring on her hand, gently turning it over her skin as he calms down.

The thoughts of fire, ash and blood retreat as he focuses on her cold hands, the metal between his fingertips, the paint smearing across his face and the deep breaths he is taking.

He opens his eyes again to catch a glance at her and finds her looking right back.

“It’s still haunting you, isn’t it?”

His calm breathing stops and for a moment there seems to be a shadow looming over him- but she doesn’t lean away, doesn’t stop looking at him, as he feels his hands shake.

She hums and takes one of his hands to press it against her neck until he can feel the faint bump of a scar.

Her eyes seem to look right through him.

"It's alright to feel the past creeping up on you. It's rather ordinary, I would dare say."

He lets his hand rest on the nape of her neck before embracing her. She lifts her arms to wrap them around him, as well.

The soft breath on his neck reminds him of sunlight falling through leaves.

A ripple on the water.

#glorfindel x you #glorfindel x reader #glorfindel x f!reader #lotr #lord of the rings #the silmarillion #j.r.r. tolkien

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mushiewrites · 9 months

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CONRGRATS!!!! 300 followers is so cool I’m so happy for you! :D

for the fics, what inspired rise & shine and what possessed you to write Round One and The short(s) Struggle

from this milestone post / rise & shine / round one / the short(s) struggle

I am excited about explaining all of these, they are all so special to me omg elliot thank u for sending them in <3

also loving that you asked what possessed me, bc honestly I have no idea :D but whatever it was, it needs to do it again right now

rise & shine was written purely out of spite and 1000000% towards summer bc she was being a little shit and I was feeling evil.

exhibit A:

once summer told me she thought george was the meanest, I went with sap with the lee bc I hc both of them with horribly sensitive thighs, so it was always gonna be between snf since the target spot I had in mind....was thighs (gee I wonder why???????)

after that I kind of blacked out and wrote it. It was done pretty quickly, like I've mentioned before I'm way more motivated to finish something when it's targeted at someone else! (: it's just more fun and it doesn't really feel like I'm pressured to finish it or anything bc I want to sooooo bad anyways! and like I did with my other fics targeted at summer (yes there are multiple! :D) I just included things I knew got to her, and bam, good reactions!

exhibit B & C:

so yeah, this is why rise & shine was made! there was no planning in advance, nothing leading up to writing the fic, it was simply bc summer was being a little shit and I was feeling evil enough to write a reaaaaaally mean fic at her <3

I do it purely for the "MUSHIE", which I have sooooo many screenshots saved of <3

- - - - - - - -

okay......round one. okay. look. this was also for lee!george week, and it was born bc I NEEDED to do an intense tk day. it's just my branding, I needed them to destroy poor lil georgie ):

it's a litttttttttle bit self indulgent Im not gonna lie. a lot of what was written was from possibly personal experience, and I really just tried to write a lot of what I thought would be super intense tks for george (I also added in lil digs at someone but I will not be naming who <3)

I wanted to explore things that I hadn't publicly posted yet, like oil and some specific tools. I actually had a lot more plans for this fic, a lot more spots and tools and techniques, but I was running out of time, and left it off so I could revisit it as a sequel (which I absolutely am, I already have some plans written out)

but uh....mostly this one was self indulgent. I can't even lie about it, it was definitely written for me (and a few other people) more than anything 🫠

that's all I'm saying about round one (: <333333

- - - - - - - -

short struggle!!!! my tiny sap in his tiny shorts!!!!! literally was inspired by the tiny shorts he was wearing when he streamed a clothing haul when he was in LA <3 my brain chemistry has never been the same since <3

like….look at him???????

I have been saying this for half of my fics but like….I really was just mindless when I wrote this? I saw sap thighs and immediately got the idea for dream and george to latch on and never ever EVERRRRRRRR let go <3

sap is so tiny and small and a baby panda, and normally I love when people are sweet to him, but I just needed him to get his shit absolutely ROCKED in this, I have no explanation really, just that my brain went insane and I made dnf do what I wanna do to him :3

this was cals reaction in the middle of me writing the fic btw:

“why me!?” is one of my favorite lil dialogues I’ve written for sap just bc I can hear it so clearly in his lil raspy voice through his lil raspy giggles with his lil nose scrunch <3

short(s) struggle was purely bc sap couldn’t help but show off his thighs on stream, and i couldn’t help but destroy them <3333333

#elliot tword #asks #thank u elliot!!!!! i love the fics u sent ):#theyre all so good #and i loved being able to throw summer under the bus again so thank u for that <3 #and talk about saps thighs #and talk about round one 😭🫠#mushies 300 milestone

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