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ma1dita · 2 months

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its 10pm again.... 😈😈

rivals with benefits Luke who makes everything a competition. even in bed. 😼

IM ALSO SO SORRY FOR FLOODING UR INBOX

MDNI

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

a/n: liv we're boxing because i literally could not rest until i got this right,,,, smut. public sex. wrap before you tap. creampie. all the nasty things. fuck man...

wc: 968

“That’s a point for me,” Luke says with a menacing grin. The both of you are soaked to the bone after paddling across Canoe Lake to see who could make it to the other end the fastest, and as you gasp for air while holding onto the wood post of the pier, you can’t help but somehow be convinced that he cheated.

“You’re built like a frog with those long legs of yours, how the fuck was I supposed to win?”

Daybreak spreads slowly across Camp Half-Blood, sunlight kissing where the sky meets the water and Luke thinks he wants to kiss you. Knows it, actually—deep down to his bones that the line between hatred and love must be lust.

He swims closer to you like a predator creeping toward his prey, wet curls stuck to his forehead as he admires how hard you’re breathing. You’re right there, and since you like to make a competition of everything from capture the flag strategies to how many campers you both can get to screech at nightly sing-a-longs, he thinks he has an offer you won’t be able to resist. Luke’s hands glide under your shirt as the both of you tread water, still fighting for dominance even when it comes to who takes up the most space to stay afloat. You lick your lips, fingers tugging at his camp necklace as you look at him curiously and raise an eyebrow.

“I’ve got an idea…”

“I’ll start my prayers,” you smirk, before seeing the hot burning want in his gaze. You can feel it in his fingers as they brush the underside of your breasts, nipples stiff in the frigid water. Shaking your head, a nervous giggle leaves you as your arms circle his neck, bodies separated by your thin, sopping nightshirt. If he touches the rest of you, he’ll find other parts that are wet too, warm enough to brave the chill of the morning breeze that settles upon your shoulders.

“The nymphs might see…” you whisper, even though the both of you know not a single soul is awake right now but time is running out like sand in an hourglass.

“You backing down?”

The kiss you press into his open mouth is a clear enough answer—tongues sliding and spearing against each other, hot and angry and bruising. It’s a fair shot, not knowing who’s going to come out on top.

—

“Oh, gods, please!”

Your hands and knees are scraping in the rocks and sand of the shoreline underneath the pier as Luke pistons into you at an alarming rate, each thrust a blow to your senses. He watches your head bob up towards the sky almost in reverent prayer and he’s grinning, continually sinking into your warmth while the rest of him shudders from the cold. Luke’s cock works inside your slick hole instead of against it, and he laughs at the irony of you finally letting him have his way. Your fingernails dig into the coarse beach, grains of sand making their way through every crevice as he fills your pulsing one with glee.

“Fucking knew you’d behave…” he grunts, one hand pulling at the thin cloth around your waist and the other holds onto your stomach so he can feel himself bludgeon you from the inside. “Can’t fight back when you’re getting your brains fucked out, hmm?”

He watches your pretty tits swing from the stretched out opening of your soggy shirt as you choke out a sob of pleasure.

“Yes…f-fuck Luke,” you whine, reaching back to ease your hand against his abdomen but he pulls it behind your back to use as a better hold on you. Luke puts two of his fingers in your mouth and they prod at the skin of your cheek, spit dripping around the digits.

Despite the intrusion, you’re groaning loud enough over the icy smacks against your skin that for a moment he thinks it might actually wake the forest nymphs, but then he’s distracted by your pussy pushing and pulling him as his hips clap against your ass, leaving them raw for days to come. Light waves crash against the shore with your movements, splashing against your knees and you’re giggling at him with a dazed grin as you push your hips back harder against his thrusts, overpowering his control over you.

He swallows thickly, groaning through the building sensation in his stomach as you rock back onto his cock faster and with the purpose of taking him down and winning. The both of you work in tandem as you writhe against each other in a battle to reach the end, unsure of if you’re with him or against him but gods, it feels so fucking good being under him.

“M’so close…Don’t fucking stop,” you shudder, and Luke shuts his eyes hard and takes a deep breath. Even if all 12 Olympians came down right now to smite him he wouldn’t be able to pull out.

So he doesn’t.

He couldn’t even if he tried—he cums so hard, his front meeting your back as you fall into the sand with a muffled yelp and he’s pumping thick rods of his release into your pussy. You shiver under him slightly until you realize your belly is warm from his efforts.

“That’s gotta be like 5 or 10 points,” Luke pants, nipping at your shoulder before he sits up. You’re laying there, ass up and motionless so he slaps a cheek before you start laughing.

“For me. At least you came,” you drone, having been on the brink of an orgasm.

He couldn’t argue with that. So he flips you onto your back and eats you out (sand and slick and all) until he’s ready again and by the time the morning bell rings, you’ve both lost track of who’s won your so-called competition.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan smut #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #made by ma1dita ♥︎

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borninwinter81 · 4 months

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William Blake - an introduction for Good Omens fans

I have sent @neil-gaiman an ask regarding his feelings toward the poet/artist William Blake a couple of times, but no doubt due to the size of the poor man's inbox I haven't received a response. So I did a Google search to see if he's spoken about Blake before, and it did indeed come up with a fair few hits. I think you might enjoy seeing this Twitter post if you haven't already, the painting is from William Blake's illustrations to Paradise Lost.

It's not surprising that an author like Neil Gaiman might have an interest in Blake. A visionary from a young age, his imagination was such that he was surrounded by angels made visible in his mind's eye, and he interpreted these visions through poetry, painting and engraving, and self-printed and published many of his own works. This gave him complete freedom to say exactly what he wanted.

Though he had a passionate faith in God, he also had a deep distrust of the church as an institution, and disliked the use of religion as a means of control. This poem from "Songs of Experience" perhaps summarises his feelings best:

"I went to the Garden of Love,

And saw what I never had seen:

A Chapel was built in the midst,

Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,

And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door;

So I turn'd to the Garden of Love,

That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,

And tomb-stones where flowers should be:

And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,

And binding with briars, my joys & desires."

In his poetry there is often an incongruity with the generally accepted religious ideas of what is good and evil, Angel and Demon. In The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (there's a title that should make any GO fan sit up and pay attention) he tells us that "in the book of Job, Milton's Messiah is called Satan", signifying that he feels it is Lucifer/the devil who is the true Messiah of Paradise Lost.

He gives us The Voice of the Devil and Proverbs of Hell, and has Angels being transformed into Demons through enlightenment. He tells us that Jesus broke all of the 10 commandments, yet was still virtuous because he acted according to his own morality rather than rules.

The god-figure of his later works, Urizen, generally comes across as malevolent, seeking to bind and control, whilst Los, the Satan/Messiah figure represents freedom, imagination and creativity.

"Restraining desire" and acting contrary to your own nature seem to be the only real evils for Blake.

He expressed his faith through a love of the world and the beauty in it, summed up in this quote:

"When the Sun rises do you not see a round Disk of fire somewhat like a Guinea? O no no I see an innumerable company of the Heavenly host crying Holy Holy Holy is the Lord God Almighty".

He saw "God" in everything, in all the wonders we have around us, and considered writers/poets and religious prophets as essentially the same, since they both have a connection to the divine, and express it through stories.

It's quite ironic that probably his most famous poem, Jerusalem (the one that starts "and did those feet in ancient times walk upon England's mountains green"), was made into a very popular church hymn, yet it is supposed to be satirical in nature. The poem recounts the myth that Jesus may have visited England in his boyhood, and Blake is expressing his disbelief at that notion and the unworthiness of England.

Did I have a point to all this? Mostly to show my hand as a massive Blake nerd, but also to hopefully demonstrate that there's a lot of common ground between his ideas and those expressed in a show/book like Good Omens, and hopefully to inspire some of you who may not be familiar with Blake to seek him out. In particular I'd recommend The Marriage of Heaven and Hell to any and all.

EDIT: I should have thought to include this, here's Michael Sheen reading a Blake poem. I have the CD this is from, he reads several by Blake, as well as other poets I love ❤️ 😍

youtube

#william blake #good omens #good omens book #good omens 2 #good omens s3 #neil gaiman #crowley #aziraphale #english literature #literature #poetry #go2 #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #book omens #michael sheen #Youtube

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spiderlyla · 8 months

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Irrational — Miguel O'Hara

synopsis: miguel finally mans up to ask you out—only for a misunderstanding to insue.

tags: eventual fluff, alchemax scientist!miguel × co-worker!reader, jealousy, misunderstandings, reader's gender is not mentioned (gn reader)

inspired by @general-dweebous 's idea.

Silent and cold. Two words that perfectly described the state of Miguel O'Hara's office. Two words that perfectly described the state he was in.

His eyes were transfixed on the box infront of him—or rather the two boxes infront of him. He'd brought extra food to share today, a habit he only picked up lately, mainly because he never had anyone to share food with until recently. The previously warm boxes were now stale and cold, and so were the empanada's inside of them. Doesn't matter. He lost his appetite, and you weren't going to have lunch with him.

He just sat in his chair. Fingernails—or maybe talons, he was unsure— digging into his palm to the point where little scars formed. His thoughs were all mangled up, as he failed to distract himself from the little interaction that led him to be sitting here in the first place.

It was suppose to go so well. He'd even rehearsed it all the night before.

You'd come up to him at his station just before lunch break with ten minutes, asking him if he'd like to sit with you— you did, he agreed.

The two of you would walk to the cafeteria, you'd tell him all about your incompetent co-workers trying to sound as nice as you could, it was sweet, but he was blunt, rephrasing your words to make it sound meaner than what you probably intended. You would laugh. He would laugh—He did laugh. He noticed that you didn't have the little tupperwear box you get everyday in your hands, maybe you were in a rush? No problem, he already had your share of food ready.

You'd sit at your usual table, you did.

You'd ask him what he's eating, he told you.

It was then he would push the small box towards you, telling you he got you one too. You'd take it and take a bite, and you'd compliment the taste of it, probably asking where he got them. He'd tell you he made them. And he did. He woke up extra early this morning just to make these. You'd probably say how much of an excellent cook he is, and that's when he'd do it. He'd ask if you'd like to come later today for dinner at his. He'd be delighted to cook for you.

That's how it was suppose to go, and he hoped you'd agree—he spent hours telling himself that you would agree just to encourage himself to finally get to do this.

But when he tried to proceed with his plan, everything he'd built up came crashing down on him.

He was about to push the box towards you when a man approached your table. He was unfamiliar to Miguel, he didn't work there, that was apparent by his casual sport attire. He tapped your shoulder and you stood up when you saw him, the look of surprise on your face quickly replaced with an affectionate one.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" The guy held up a box—your box. "You forgot to pack lunch this morning, packed it for you and thought I'd drop it off." He handed you the box with a grin, and when Miguel looked back at you, you had the widest, prettiest smile he'd ever seen.

Packed it for you? You live with this guy? But he remembers the time you invited him to that party you threw during New Year's, there was no indication you lived with someone—let alone another man.

"That's so sweet, Ned, thank you." You tip-toed and gave him a kiss on the cheek. A kiss on his cheek, your hand on his shoulder. A harsh sensation, undescribable, clawed at Miguel's racing heart.

"Don't mention it—Sorry to intruppt your talk though!" The man—Ned's eyes fell upon Miguel, who was looking at his lap, fiddling with his watch. Trying to rationalise this, never reaching a rational conclusion. "You must be Miguel O'Hara right? I hear alot about you—I mean, alot."

"Ned, don't—" You laughed, putting your hands on his chest as to push him away a little. "He's just embaressing me—Ignore him—" Ned laughed too, putting his hands on yours to prevent you.

"I am Miguel, yes." His voice was hoarse, gruff, it was a miracle anything came out at all with that lump he felt in his throat, suffocating the everloving fuck out of him. "If—If you'll excuse me." He got up, picking up his boxes, and immediately heading to the door.

You didn't even come after him, too occupied with laughing to even notice he was gone.

And here he was, sitting all alone, eyes shut as he tried not to remember the scene of your lips on another man's skin. He grunted, hands tangled in his thick black hair.

"Maybe it's not what it seems," A familiar golden glow appeared by his shoulder. "Maybe you misread the situation—"

"There is nothing here to misread, LYLA." He replied sharply. It was unlike him to not try to even make sense of a situation, but what is there to rationalise? You lived with this guy. He packed you lunch because you forgot it and came all the way to Alchemax's headquarters—which by the way, were on the outskirts of Nueva York—just to give it to you.

How stupid of him to think you'd stay single until he gets the courage to ask you out. How foolish of him to think it was a good idea to get his hopes up for once. How incredibly dumb of him to think this would go in his favor, because when did it ever.

"We don't even know who that is! It could be a friend—"

"LYLA, stop." His head snapped towards the floating hologram of his assistant, "You're the one who encouraged me to do this, and it failed before I even got the chance to try. I am not about to make scenarios up just to be let down again."

She ignored him, of course she did. "—I could always do a quick search. I'm sure I can find out who that is—"

"No," His refusal was immediate. Of course, curiosity and jealousy were eating him from the inside, but with you, he wanted to do this right. He would never breach your privacy like he would any other person. "Enough. We're not discussing this anymore." Miguel tapped his gizmo, and LYLA's hologram immediately dissappeared with a loud protest.

The office was queit again, Miguel wondered if you truly hadn't noticed that he was gone at all. Maybe you did notice and were relieved that he was.

Did he truly misread the situation? Or did he misread what he thought the two of you shared?

The brushing of hands when you walked next to each other, the sweet smile you flashed him everytime you saw him, the way you were so touchy around him, always hugging him and putting your hand on his shoulder to comfort him, the way you caught his stare whenever the two of you were in the same lab, that shy smile that would appear on your face and your reddened cheeks.

Was it just him interpreting it all wrong?

His thoughts were quickly intrupted by a cheery knock on his door, a pattern he knew all too well. Just before he could reply, the door swung open, with you waltzing into his office like you always do.

"Hey, I was looking for you everywhere!" Miguel grunted, shuffling with some paper on his desk to make himself look busy. "You went running off—"

"I have work to do." He replied dryly, not raising his head from the seemingly empty papers. You stopped by the door, and he was sure if he looked up, he'd see that cute pout of yours.

"You're not having lunch?" Miguel glanced at the two boxes he set aside and shook his head. "No, you should though."

"Who am I suppose to have lunch with then?"

"Your boyfriend isn't going to keep you company?" He looked up, anticipating your reaction. Your face contorted between confusion and absolute shock, then your eyes lit up. A wide grin made its way onto your lips, and you took a few steps towards Miguel's desk.

"Ned's my brother." You chuckled, tilting your head. Miguel felt his neck and ears heat up. He could practically hear LYLA in his ears, teasing him endlessly about this. How would he even know? You never mentioned a brother.

"Oh, I thought...because he said you—I guess—"

"Are you nervous, Miguel O'Hara?" You teased, and he grunted, rolling his eyes. "Ned is always busy, and always out of the country, but he's on vacation and currently living with me."

Of course, why didn't he think of that?

"Oh."

You giggled, fucking giggled at him. He was seething for the past 20 minutes, at the possibility that another man that wasn't him had you all to himself, only for it to turn out to be your brother.

"Not used to being wrong, huh?" You placed a hand on his fisted ones, and he immediately relaxed. "I rarely am."

"Awh, were you jealous, Miguel?" A scoff escaped his lips, he refused to let you tease him.

And you decided to play nice for once, deciding to let it go just to salvage his crumbling pride. "Anyways, those empanada's you were telling me about—"

"One of them is for you." He intruppted, "I...made it. In the morning. They're cold now."

"We could microwave them."

"Or you could come over and make a fresh batch with me." The words slipped off his tounge before he could think twice, something he often found himself doing whenever he was around you. He was about to apologise for being too bold, but then he looked at you.

With the prettiest smile and most bright eyes he'd ever seen, you nodded. "I'd love to."

Seems like his plan did work after all.

A little off, but still, it worked.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #astv #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o hara #spider man atsv #spiderman into the spiderverse #miguel fanfic #miguel o' hara #miguel o #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #alchemax scientist miguel o'hara #alchemax

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d1xonss · 2 months

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Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?

Pretty When I Cry

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 1

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Angst/Fluff

✧ Word Count : 4k

AN ~ This is a very cute idea. I've been wanting to write something for season 1 Daryl because he's just such a cutie pie, but I didn't really have any good ideas. Though I think if he were to ever snap and "be mean" it would surely be in the beginning; his sassy era lol. But thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

In an instant it seemed like, all of humanity was completely flipped upside down. You were on your way to work when the chaos all erupted, dead people coming back to life and the military taking matters into their own hands. Bombing places left and right even if that meant killing the ones who weren’t infected. The entire thing shook you more than you were ever willing to admit, after all, you were more fragile, soft and clearly not built for whatever the world was suddenly turning into.

But to your surprise, you made it out alive. Traumatized, sure, but alive.

You seemed to count your blessings every single day since then, thankful for every little thing that had happened to you since. Luck seemed to shine down upon you as you weren’t alone for long, finding a small group camped out in the high mountains merely days after everything went down. They all welcomed you with open arms, clearly taking a liking to your kindness and wanting as many people to come together as they could get. After all, it’s all that was left of the world. People you could rely on.

You grew to love the tight knit group, forming friendships with people you never would’ve guessed you’d meet in a million years. You also tried to keep yourself busy, wanting to be as useful as possible and provide what you could for the others. Not because you felt obligated to, but because you simply wanted to. Things like cooking, collecting berries and mushrooms, doing laundry, anything you could find to help contribute.

Something you seemed to be ashamed of however, was that you couldn’t really do any of the “heavy lifting.” You had never fired a gun in your life, that alone narrowed down the list. Not being able to stay on watch, not being able to hunt, and…not being able to take care of the dead things that sometimes wandered all the way up here. At first, the thought of you being weaker than the others never even crossed your mind. It was only brought to your attention when a certain man began to poke fun at you because of how small he saw you.

Merle Dixon was a grade A asshole to put it bluntly. Ever since he and his brother showed up to be a part of the group later on, he had made it his mission to annoy and harass you whenever he saw the opportunity. You couldn’t figure out why you were his main target, his main source of entertainment, but you could only guess it was because he always got under your skin in a way he was able to see. That, and he tended to make you cry. He even gave you a nickname because of it after a while, one that you absolutely hated. And he knew it too.

Although Merle was someone you couldn’t stand, his brother Daryl however was…different. He could still be snappy and hot headed just like the other one you supposed, but he had never acted that way towards you surprisingly. His main target was Shane, and honestly, who could blame him? There were many times where the man would take things too far and Daryl would put him in his place, unaware of the watchful wide eyes that watched the interaction. He never seemed to care, wanting to tell everyone how it was without a single ounce of regret. You sort of envied him for that small little thing.

You had never stood up to anyone in your life, always too scared of the outcome and you hated being yelled at more than anything in the world. So it was safe to say you avoided confrontation at all costs. Clearly, as you hadn’t found the strength to stand up to Merle since he got here. But though neither of the brothers particularly cared for you, you were still kind to them just like you were to everyone else. You didn’t miss how the others in the group would almost look down on them in a way you couldn’t understand, so you wanted to be the one who provided just that little bit of kindness. It really went a long way, or at least that’s what you believed.

Though you had to admit, it was a little difficult sometimes. There were moments where you just wanted to yell in frustration, curse at Merle for how he always treated you and how Daryl typically sat there and did nothing. But you always managed to cool off, reminding yourself that they most likely acted like this because of something from their past. Something they couldn’t control. Who were you to treat them differently because of that? It was hard to stay strong at times, but in the end, you always seemed to send them a small smile.

You currently busied yourself on just the outskirts of the camp past the trees, finding and picking a few berries to bring back seeing as the group was running a bit low. And every bit of food counted these days. Your gaze stayed down as you chose the ripest ones, placing them in the little woven basket you brought to gather as many as you could for the time being. Though upon your hunt for different kinds of plant based things you could eat, your eyes happened to catch a mere glimpse of something colorful a few feet away.

To your surprise, it was a small patch of wildflowers growing together, each a different beautiful color and only a reminder to you that the world wasn’t completely dead. There were still many beautiful aspects along the way, even though a bit of hope may be lost, it was little things like this that brought a smile to your face. So you decided to wrap it up, bring back the things you’d collected along with picking one of the small flowers, putting it behind your ear for now to take back and put in your tent with the rest of your things. You had the idea of pressing it into one of the pages of a journal you kept.

You then found yourself slowly trailing back towards the site, almost dreadfully as you could predict what was coming next. You could practically hear it in the back of your mind like it was burned into your memory. Merle’s phantom voice echoed in your mind, knowing he would most likely call out to you the moment he noticed your presence reenter the space. But again, you reminded yourself to just try and be kind. It was the one thing you were best at.

Slowly but surely you made it past the treeline, and only about eight seconds passed before you heard a loud wolf whistle from your left along with the same booming laugh. Like he amused himself or something.

“There she is!” he called from the space in his and Daryl’s separate camp away from the others, “It’s weeping willow.” he smiled widely in hopes to get a reaction out of you.

You sighed as you sent him a small smile, “Still not my name Merle.” you reminded as you just tried to walk past him.

But it wasn’t that easy. It was never that easy. He easily stepped in front of you to block your path, the smirk still plastered on his face. “Close enough.” he waved off, “Besides, I wanna see what you so kindly brought back for me.” he said before quickly snatching your basket out of your hands.

Your eyes slightly widened as you tried to grab it back, but he pulled it away faster. “Merle.” you huffed as you attempted to reach for it again, but he only moved it away quicker. Every move you made, he would make as well, purposefully keeping it from you as he started to walk backwards for you to follow.

Like dangling a damn carrot in front of your face.

Your frustration grew as you continued to follow and reach for it as he laughed, watching your attempts and fails. You could feel your cheeks beginning to heat up in embarrassment now, sensing Daryl’s eyes watching the interaction as he made a few bolts by the small fire they had set up. He sat there still, doing nothing as per usual as he watched the interaction unfold right in front of him.

“Merle, please. It’s for the group.” you tried as you reached for it again.

But he pulled it out of your reach as you stood face to face, “Well, I’m a part of that group ain’t I? I think I deserve this just as much as the next bastard. Unless of course you have a different opinion bout that…” he trailed off as his smirk grew.

You sighed, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. It’s for everyone.” you clarified kindly.

The man only laughed at you, and you quickly began to feel the familiar lump forming in your throat, trying desperately to swallow it down and not let your emotions escape. It was obvious you were sensitive, but also having to fight the same fight over and over again, it got old quicker than you would admit. You could hardly stand these interactions anymore without at least tearing up a little at his teasing and taunting.

Finally after having enough, you reached out quickly and managed to snatch the basket back from him in one quick motion, placing it on your arm as your brows furrowed a little in frustration. Merle’s eyes widened a bit at the fast unexpected action, before he started smirking all over again once he caught the expression on your face.

“Oooh look at that. I almost got ya to snap.” he poked as he swayed a little clumsily on his feet, most likely a little drunk or high would be your best guess.

Sighing to yourself again to calm down, you shook your head as you knew of his only goal, “I’m not snapping.” you stated calmly.

Though he clearly didn’t believe you, wanting to push you even more. His eyes traveled away from your eyes as he grinned wickedly, pointing to your ear. “What’s this lil thing?” he asked. Your eyes widened a little, but before you could even react, he quickly snatched it away all while pulling your hair a little in the process.

Your hand reached again, “Merle, come on, please.” you spoke desperately as you moved to keep up with him, before your frame accidentally stepped a little too far to the left.

In a fit of embarrassment and clumsiness, your foot accidentally knocked over a bucket that was sitting a little too close to the fire. The only problem was, Daryl’s freshly made bolts were sitting in there, now being engulfed in the flames. Your eyes widened in horror as you quickly scrambled back, watching Daryl instantly stand to his feet in an attempt to save what wasn’t ruined. But it was too late.

“Son of a bitch!” he cursed loudly as he bent down to pick up the bucket.

One of your hands came up to your mouth as you couldn’t believe what you had just done, freezing in place as you now didn’t know what to do. You knew you were in deep shit already, but when Merle suddenly paused just as you did, you knew you were royally fucked as the two of you just watched Daryl stare down at the fire motionlessly.

Eventually you found your voice, stepping forward a little to reach out to him, “Oh my God, Daryl I’m so sorry-”

But your words clearly didn’t mean a thing. He slapped your hand harshly away from him as his head snapped up to look at you, a fire of his own growing in his eyes. “What the hell is wrong with ya?!” he screamed.

You instantly flinched back at his sharp tone, the lump once again forming in your throat as you desperately tried to keep yourself together, “It was an accident-”

“Do ya even know how long it took me ta make those?” he asked angrily, not even bothering to wait for an answer. “Nah…course ya don’t. Cause you don’t do anything around here! Always just sittin in yer own little fairytale, smilin without a goddamn care in the world, when in reality you just fuckin ruin everything!”

His words cut through you like a knife. But not one that was sharp. One that was dull, just sawing back and forth relentlessly and hurting you even more than you could’ve ever imagined. Your eyes quickly filled with tears, not even knowing what to say as he was clearly about to blow up even more with how angry he grew.

He scoffed once he saw how speechless you became, “Just get the hell outta here.” he spat harshly as he got up closer to your face, aggressively pointing off into the trees.

Tears began to pour down your cheeks at the last of his words, not even wasting another second as you dropped the basket from your arms before taking off in the other direction in a flash. Your chest heaved as you moved quickly through the trees, not being able to get alone fast enough so you could finally let everything out. You almost couldn’t believe the things that just happened, how everything got so messed up after you swore you were making progress with the two of them. But you weren’t. And perhaps you never would, that being something you would just have to accept.

Though finally after feeling like you walked quickly for miles, you came to the clearing of the large quarry, slumping down near the water before you began to sob all by yourself. You let everything out, every built up emotion poured out of you like a rush of water. You could’ve sworn you cried so much that you could fill a quarry of your own, knowing that those emotions were really the only thing you were good at. Crying could be an olympic sport, and you would win first everytime given the chance.

But that thought only got you thinking more, making you stew over Daryl’s words. Maybe he was right. Anyone could say that it was the heat of the moment, his anger, insults just spilling out of his mouth that were simply not true. But in a way, you knew how true they were. You had to admit that you did feel useless as you hugged your knees to your chest, covering your face as you sobbed even more. You didn’t have useful skills like some of the others, not being able to prove yourself as you truly were weak when it came to a world like this. All you ever wanted to do was be kind, provide for the people you cared about most. But your outlook got ruined in an instant, quickly replaced with a new one that you would surely think about forever.

It was funny, you thought. You once heard Merle’s faint voice playing in your mind repeatedly, but now…you only heard Daryl’s. His insults, his harshness, it was something you never would’ve guessed or expected from him. But now you knew that you had just ruined everything, when all you wanted was to help.

You didn’t know how much time you spent alone, crying off and on to yourself the more you allowed your mind to run, but you could only assume it was a fairly long time. The sun was beginning to set in the sky, the little bit of light that was left shone over the water in front of you, making it sparkle as your tears continued to blur the scenery. You sniffled as you wiped your cheeks over and over again, wanting to pull yourself together enough to be able to show your face again back at camp. But the embarrassment was still weighing heavily, almost a crushing pressure.

But then all your attention was pulled to a shuffling noise coming from behind you, causing you to whip your head around in a panic to see where it came from. Though the sight was more surprising than you could’ve ever prepared yourself for. Daryl slowly emerged from the trees with a hesitant look on his face, and your eyes widened as you quickly turned your head back in the opposite direction. You didn’t want to look at him. You couldn’t even bring yourself to understand why he had come out here. He had already done enough, he made his point crystal clear. You were just silently hoping he didn’t come out here to yell at you again.

Daryl on the other hand felt an immense amount of guilt. His chest tightened a little as he caught barely a glimpse of your red, puffy eyes and your tear stained cheeks, knowing he was the cause of it. He couldn’t describe how it made him feel, but all he knew was he was wishing he could take it all back if it meant not having to see you cry. His brother already caused you to break down enough, he didn’t want to be the cause of that too. And yet, he was.

The man slowly walked up to where you sat near the blue water, the rocks crunching beneath his boots louder and louder as he approached. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you just prayed he would go away, not wanting to interact with him after everything. But Daryl was stubborn, and he didn’t want you out here all night just because you were nervous to come back.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” he said a bit awkwardly, stopping just a few feet away from you. You heard him loud and clear, but you said nothing, not really in the mood to eat. Facing the group after they surely heard the scene that went down, it all sounded like a nightmare.

Daryl sighed heavily as you didn’t respond, you didn’t even look in his direction. Acting as if he wasn’t here at all. “Hey.” he called.

“...Why do you hate me?” you whispered, still not facing him as you spoke.

He almost questioned what you had said, but then it seemed to hit him all at once just how badly he had fucked up with all this. The one girl that showed him a kindness he had never seen, now thought he wanted nothing to do with her from the projected words he spat at her.

He let out a soft breath as he closed his eyes momentarily, stepping up a little closer, “I- I don’t…I don’t hate you.” he said quietly.

You didn’t react, so he managed to push himself a little further than what he was comfortable with. He moved to slowly sit down beside you, keeping some distance, yet he wanted you to know he was there. That he meant it. “I don’t hate you.” he said again.

“You act like it.” you were quick to say as you turned your head to look him in the eye, “I…I don’t even know what I did…” you said, your voice quiet and broken.

The man stared at you for a long moment, before slowly shaking his head, “Ya didn’t do nothin…it’s…it’s hard to explain. But I guess I never really understood…why yer so nice. Thought maybe ya just wanted somethin from me…I dunno.”

You shook your head a little in disbelief, “I’m nice because I care…that’s it.” you assured as you didn’t want him to think otherwise. But you supposed hearing his reasoning out loud made a little more sense, seeing as how you truly were the only one nice enough to show your kindness to the brothers. He was skeptical because no one had done that for them before, the thought nearly broke your heart.

A long moment of silence passed between the two of you, before you were the one to break it, “Listen…I’m so sorry about what happened. I didn’t mean to ruin what you worked so hard on, it was an accident.”

Though Daryl quickly shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. If anythin, I should be apologizin for what I said. I…I didn’t mean none of it…”

You stared at him with a soft expression, “But you were right…everything you said-”

“Everything I said was bullshit.” he said bluntly, looking at you with a seriousness in his eyes, “I say a lotta stupid shit I don’t mean when m’ angry, and this ain’t no different, ya hear me?”

“But it’s true.” you argued gently before looking back out into the water, “I don’t know how to help out…how to survive in a world like this. I always try to do what I can, but it’s never enough.”

Daryl paused as he saw the sadness behind your eyes, a sudden feeling overtaking him as he wanted to say or do something that would get you to smile again. “Hey, that ain’t true. Ya go out and scavenge, ya help cook the food that’s brought back…ya even helped stitch Glenn up when the dumbass hurt himself.”

His words caused a small laugh to escape your lips as you looked back over to him, “Well I knew he would somehow mess it up even more if he did it himself…I didn’t have a choice with that one.”

“Nah…ya did.” he said seriously, “Ya always have a choice, and I see ya puttin others before yerself all the time. That’s somethin ya should give yerself credit for.”

Your eyes softened the longer you looked at him, a small smile forming on your face just seeing how much he cared. Even if he wasn’t willing to admit it out loud just yet. “Thank you.” you said quietly.

Daryl felt his face grow a little hot as he ducked his head, clearing his throat a little awkwardly, “Yeah, no problem…” he muttered before it looked like he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, and uh…I brought ya this.” he said before revealing the hand that sat behind his back.

You looked down to see it was the same small flower that Merle took from you, sitting in the palm of his hand as he held it out to you. Your eyes widened a little as your small fingers delicately took it from his grasp. “You got it back?”

“Uh, no that one was all smushed by the end of…everythin. So I went and got ya a new one…hope that’s okay.” he explained a bit quietly.

Your smile grew as your eyes lit up at the simple kind gesture, one you would have never expected from him. “It’s perfectly okay…thank you.” you said sincerely, raising it up to place it behind your ear.

He nodded a bit awkwardly as he watched you for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip. “Alright, well come on.” he muttered as he stood back up to his feet, “Best be gettin back.” he spoke, hesitantly extending a hand out to help you up.

His actions surprised you a bit, but that didn’t stop you from taking his hand, letting him help you stand before the two of you slowly headed back through the woods. You half expected complete silence as you walked side by side with him, but he managed to keep a conversation with you as if he suddenly enjoyed your company. Though maybe he always did, he was just cautious as he didn’t always trust people as easily as you did. But you were growing more hopeful as he slowly came around, finding you had to be patient to see how much of a gentle person he really was.

From that day on, you and Daryl had slowly gotten more comfortable with each other. You wouldn’t really call it a friendship per se, but it was something the two of you very clearly cherished. But that wasn’t the only thing that seemed to change.

Merle’s attitude toward you seemed to have completely flipped from what you had grown accustomed to. He rarely ever spoke to you again after that day, and if he did it was always something short and simple, not an insult in sight. Though you were a little surprised, a part of you had a feeling who changed his mind about you.

~ Thanks for reading!

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misojunnie · 3 months

Text

DELICATE ─ psh. ☆ (teaser)

does love ever cross the line?

# genre: rich kid!enemy!sunghoon x fem!reader, forbidden love, enemies to lovers, slow burn, family feud, non idol au

# warnings: substances, lots of pining/angst, cursing, insults, mature jokes, implied sex, I have no idea how businesses work plz don’t roast me

# featuring: sunghoon & enha! + le sserafim

# playlist: delicate by taylor swift, take care by beach house, love by kendrick lamar, babydoll by dominic fike, hurts so good by astrid s

# a/n: hi y’all! I got this request a long time ago and only recently got to it, so I hope y’all like! lmk if u want to be added to the taglist! pls enjoy <3

# word count: 13.2k

# taglist: @lovialy @minniejenseo @powerpuffstuts @mnxnii @idkdykilr @ionlyreadforfanfics @heelovesmeknot @100520s @simjyunnie @scrumptiousloser @eneiyri @pinkkami @milkycloudtyg @enhypenlovre @pinkkami @m3chigo @saythenameseventeen178 @desistay @capri-cuntz.@taerifin open!

# unable to tag: @hohohobo

this was written upon anon request; check it out here!

when your father’s company cratered after a faulty business deal, a vendetta was formed between your family and the biggest export company in south korea. but that rivalry begins to falter when you fall in love with the ceo’s son.

[more under the cut!]

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

Awards banquets were Sunghoon’s least favorite part of being in business. Forget the ruthlessness and backstabbing, dressing up in a suit and pretending to be successful blew all that warfare out of the water.

“It’s too tight.”

“It’s fine. You’ll be fine. Just stop complaining.”

“I’m not kidding, Jake. Loosen it or I’ll kill you.” Jake sighed, tugging on the navy blue tie until it was hanging loosely around Sunghoon’s neck, a stark and messy contrast to his crisp black suit and neat button up.

“Jesus Christ. After fifteen years, you’d think you’d know how to tie a tie.” Jake said, shaking his head as his best friend checked his hair in the mirror.

“Are you sure we have to go to this thing tonight?” Sunghoon huffed, brushing a stray piece of hair into place.

“Don’t be stupid. You’ve been going to these galas since you were six, and dragging me along with you.” Jake scoffed, pushing Sunghoon’s head from behind and ruining his hairstyle yet again, the latter glaring.

“You love it.” Sunghoon teased, tearing his eyes away from the mirror after checking his hair a last time. “God, I can’t believe we’re still having these idiotic galas. Everyone just knows they’re a coverup for big corporations to distract from the fact that they’re abusing their poor workers.”

“Nobody cares these days. Put a bow on anything and the media will eat it up.” Jake said, adjusting his tie before slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Ready to ruin some lives? Destroy some young futures?”

“Not funny.” Sunghoon warned, pointing his finger at Jake while trying to tug on his shoes with the other hand. “You know how much I hate the company.”

“Say that as much as you want, but you’re still wearing shoes bought with your daddy’s blood money.” Sunghoon huffed.

“Hm...I suppose you’re right.” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“C’mon, let’s get you to the ball, Prince Charming.” Jake dragged Sunghoon out of the room by the wrist, locking it behind him, Sunghoon in tow.

Sunghoon sighed. God, how he hated his life. A legacy built on deception, and nothing he could do about it. Him and Jake made their way to the elevators, his dull eyes disappearing behind the closing doors.

He didn’t belong anywhere. Certainly not here.

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

On the other side of the city, you were having an entirely different conversation.

“Take that off, Chae.” you said, biting into an apple. Your red lipstick bled into the fruit as you stared judgingly at Chaewon’s enormous diamond necklace.

“But it’s so pretty.” she crossed her arms, but you gave her a stern glance and she turned around to change with a roll of her eyes. “And you, put that out.” you swatted at Jay’s hand, a lit cigarette perched between his two fingers, roiling smoke spilling from the top. “You’re gonna make my new dress smell like smoke.”

“Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Jay asked, putting out his cigarette on the corner of the coffee table, which made you frown. “No need to stress. You’ve done this business routine a million times over.”

“I’m just nervous, I guess.” you said, hands fidgeting in your lap.

“I thought you didn’t care what the Parks thought about you.”

“I don’t.” you said firmly, tongue poking into the flesh of your left cheek. “I just want things to go smoothly, that’s all.”

“So you’re not gonna stand up to those fuckers that ruined your life? No protest?” Jay asked, resting his chin on his hand. “You always wanted to take them down.”

“Of course I do. But tonight’s not the night.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead, smudging your foundation and cursing when you realized what you had done. “I just want to be put together, just for one night.”

“Well you certainly look the part, honey.” he said, eyes trailing over your floor length red gown. “You’re a proper businesswoman.”

“I hope so.” you laughed.

“You’re gonna kill it. I know it for a fact.” Jay said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before standing. “Now let’s get you to this ball.” You grinned up at him, getting to your feet and brushing the dust off your skirt with determination.

“Let’s show these people who our company is.”

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

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bucksangel · 4 months

Text

don't worry, darling

pairing: avenger!bucky x civilian!reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: even though bucky is mostly healed, that doesn’t mean his nightmares go away. and a particular grueling mission brings back memories he’d rather forget.

warnings: angsttttt, hella fluff at the end though, hurt/comfort, talk of bucky’s trauma and abuse, brief mentions of murder of a hydra agent (he deserves it), nightmares, reader is here to love and comfort bucky, also civil war and everything after didn’t happen and they all live at the tower and everything is fine bc i said so

a/n: even though this does not contain smut, my blog is 18+ so minors dni. also i wanted to write something short and sweet to get my creative juices flowing and yet, as always, i managed to go overboard

tip jar | masterlist

It started with a whimper, a small one. Barely detectable if you weren’t already awake and snuggled against Bucky’s body. He’s lying on his side facing you with you mirroring his position, arms wrapped around each other and your head tucked into his chest. You’ve been having a hard time sleeping for the last week and a half due to Bucky being gone on a mission that didn’t allow him to contact you at all. Your restless nights were mostly due to worrying over your boyfriend’s safety, something you always do whenever he leaves. It was worse this time around, though.

It was a day before he was supposed to leave, and you knew you weren’t supposed to listen in on other people’s private conversations, but you just couldn’t help yourself. You’d come home early from work one day to find Steve and Bucky in your shared home office, stopping outside the door and getting ready to knock when you overheard something about an upcoming mission. It seemed pretty important so you decided not to interrupt them, though you couldn’t force yourself to walk away.

You’re never allowed to know anything about what Bucky’s missions entail, and some part of you wanted to listen in on their conversation to hopefully ease any worries about what might be happening to him since you’ll have a general idea of where they’re going and what they’re doing.

According to Steve, although it was going to be a four-day mission, it was supposed to be relatively simple. Or, it would’ve been simple if it weren’t for the fact that the building they were being sent to scout was an old Hydra facility somewhere in Russia. The same Hydra facility where Bucky was held captive.

Upon hearing this piece of information you wanted to barge into the room and tell Steve off for letting Bucky be a part of this mission. It’s been nearly five years since he escaped and Bucky has mostly readjusted, has recovered from his trauma as much as one can after being tortured for decades. And you’ll be damned if anything jeopardizes that progress.

But you’d also overheard Bucky agreeing with the plans, helping Steve strategize, and going over all the information that needed to be obtained. And it wasn’t your place to tell Bucky what he could and couldn’t do. As much as you wanted to demand that he not go, he was his own person. And if he thought he could handle this mission then you’d have to find a way to support him.

The four-day mission turned into eight and by the sixth day with still no contact, you’d marched into the tower and demanded Fury call you with any and all updates he received. He said he would in a tone that made you believe he wouldn’t give you every detail, but it did help reassure you that if anything happened to Bucky then you wouldn’t be kept totally in the dark. It was nerve-wracking in the worst way, obsessively thinking over what Bucky could be going through - physically and mentally.

But on the eighth day, Fury had called you on your lunch break at work to tell you that Bucky was on his way back to the Tower and would probably be back at your apartment by early evening after the briefing and check-up in the medical wing.

All of your nerves and anxieties that built up over the last week were immediately replaced with relief flooding your body, your heart finally unclenching at knowing that Bucky would be back in a few short hours. One good thing about your job is that you don’t technically need to be in the office every day. As long as you get your work done you’re pretty much given free rein to leave whenever you want, and you’d finished your stack of paperwork maybe fifteen minutes before the phone call.

You gathered up your things quickly and stopped by your boss's office to wish her a good weekend, then made your way to your car to head home. Your heartbeat was increasing ever so slightly the closer you got to your apartment, and you had to remind yourself to focus on driving instead of daydreaming of being back in Bucky’s arms.

When you did finally get home, you made quick work of cleaning the entire apartment; changing your bed sheets, doing laundry, then pulling out food from the fridge to make dinner. You’d actually just gotten the chicken out of the oven when the front door opened, and your excitement at finally seeing your boyfriend again forced you to run out of the kitchen and down the hall. But you stopped a good six feet from the door, standing still at seeing Bucky’s bruised face and scabbed knuckles.

“Bucky?” You asked softly, finally noticing the spacey look in his eyes, the way they seemed to be glazed over.

Bucky smiled at you, though it was more of a grimace, and you could tell it was mostly forced but he still wanted to acknowledge you. He approached you slowly, and you stood still so you would not startle him - he just seemed so on edge. He stopped not even a foot away from you, had stared down at you with a look in his eyes you hoped you would never see again - it was such an empty gaze, almost emotionless. There was no life in his eyes. It didn’t feel like the dead gaze was directed at you specifically, it was more like Bucky just couldn’t muster up any emotion at all.

That’s when you knew. Something went wrong.

Slowly, he brought up his right hand and placed it on the back of your head, tilting it up so he could really look at you, letting his gaze linger on your lips. Instead of kissing them, he leans forward to press a kiss on your forehead, wrapping his left arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest. He didn’t speak as he slowly tucked you into his body, and you didn’t dare break the silence either, you simply wrapped your arms around his body as well, squeezing him tightly to let him know that you were there. You were there for him - physically, mentally, and emotionally, and you needed him to know that.

After maybe five minutes of no one speaking, of simply standing in the front hallway embracing each other, you decided to finally say something.

“I made dinner,” You whispered, running one of your hands up and down Bucky’s back. You pulled your head off of his chest but didn’t loosen your hold. “Chicken and mashed potatoes. I even made apple pie.”

Bucky’s mouth twitched again, and his attempted smile felt a little more genuine this time. His glassy eyes were filled with tears now, and he seemed oh so close to crying. You’d never seen him like this before, he was always happy, and smiling, even on days when he wouldn’t say it but you knew he still resented himself for his time as the soldier he would indulge in his hobbies to help him cope. But you’ve never seen him shut down before, and this is what this felt like.

You weren’t too sure how to help him, how to comfort him. But you had an inkling he might need some time to himself.

“How about you go shower and I can put the food away for later,” You said with a soft smile, speaking up again before Bucky had the chance to feel guilty, “I ate a couple of hours ago, I’m fine baby. Go shower.”

You lifted up on your toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, letting him squeeze you to his chest one more time before he released you, slumping off down the hall to the bathroom.

That was two days ago, and Bucky hasn’t spoken more than a few words at a time since. Now, it’s not like he’s avoiding you, he’s actually a little more clingy than he normally is. You can tell he wants to say something, to tell you what had happened, he just doesn’t know how. He hasn’t told you everything about what happened to him during his time as the soldier, but you know enough and don’t push him to say anything he doesn’t want to.

At night, Bucky will go out onto the small terrace outside of your apartment and stare up at the stars for hours. You don’t sit with him for all of it, just for about one hour - cuddled close to his body and talking softly and mindlessly about anything you can think of, anything that might help Bucky open up. Then, around nine or ten, you’ll give him a lingering kiss on his cheek, one on his temple, and one final kiss on his lips before going to bed, letting Bucky be alone with himself and his thoughts.

Tonight, though, Bucky’s decided to climb into bed with you soon after dinner. You both showered together, washing each other’s bodies and sharing a few lingering kisses under the spray of the shower head. You didn’t go any further, but you did make sure to spend extra time massaging his shoulders and back, placing kisses everywhere you could reach.

It’s one in the morning now, and you hear another whimper. Bucky shifts beside you, tightening his hold on you ever so slightly. Another whine.

“Bucky?” You whisper, careful to not disturb the silence too much.

He responds with a mumbled ‘please’. Then, ‘no’.

“Buck? Baby?” You say a little louder, shifting in his hold but not able to move much due to his arms being wound around your body.

He shudders, pulling you further into him as his breathing picks up. He’s having a nightmare. Now, despite him being mostly healed, he still does have nightmares. They’ve lessened over the years, but they never truly go away.

When he’s in this mindset, you’re careful not to move too much and startle him awake. So, you simply shimmy your arm from under one of his so you can push on his chest and gently ease him onto his back. It takes a little more force than you’d like, but you’re eventually able to lay him flat on his back and untangle your body from his.

“Baby?” You whisper a little louder, placing your hand on the side of his face and rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. “Bucky.”

He groans; louder, desperate. He’s in pain. You run your hand down his face, down his neck, then land on his chest, right above his heart. It’s increased rapidly, and you can see beads of sweat coat his forehead.

“Bucky.” Your voice is pleading, and you push on his chest a little, now hoping to startle him awake before it gets worse. You don’t want to keep him in this nightmare, so you shake him again.

“Bu-” You’re stopped short by him gasping, his eyes shooting open and his body lifting off the bed slightly as he wakes up. Relief fills your body, and you sigh gratefully. You hate when he’s in pain, whether physical or mental, but you hate not being able to do anything about it even more.

Bucky doesn’t move right away, he squeezes his eyes closed and clenches his fists momentarily. Then, when you place your hand on his cheek, his whole body goes limp, relaxing into the sheets under your touch.

“Baby,” He whispers hoarsely. “I…” He chokes back a sob, and you’re quick to adjust yourselves so you’re laying on your back and he’s laying almost entirely on top of you with his head on your chest right above your heart. He starts crying then, really crying. His arms wrap themselves around your midsection, and you wrap yours around his body as well, cradling him close to you.

“It’s okay, darling. It’s okay, you’re okay,” You mumble into his ear, pressing kisses anywhere you can reach. You continue cooing at him, whispering reassurances and declarations of love until his cries taper off into small whimpers and sniffles. You’re really worried now. Yeah, Bucky isn’t shy about expressing his emotions, and you’ve held him after nightmares and through the aftermath of difficult missions when he comes home disheartened. But he’s never been so vulnerable, and you want nothing more than to hold him close and protect him from everything bad in the world.

Silence envelops the both of you for a while. You want to allow Bucky to speak when he’s ready. And he does so after a couple of minutes.

“There was an agent; Alix, I think. I - I don’t remember his last name, but…” Bucky pauses, and you take the opportunity to place a kiss on his forehead. “For the last five or so years of me being… him, Alix was there. He’d… Any time I failed a mission, he’d be there. Out of all the Hydra agents that I’ve ever come in contact with… his punishments were the worst.” He pauses again, sniffling softly and nuzzling his face into your chest.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” You whisper, bringing your hand up to his hair so you can run your fingers through his locks. Bucky shakes his head softly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

“He was there. When Steve, Natasha, and I went to the facility last week, Alix was there. And he… I don’t know. I saw him and I just went blank, my mind shut off. I know I promised I wouldn’t kill anymore, I know. I just… He just hurt me so fucking much.”

Bucky starts crying again, and you have to force yourself not to cry as well. You want to be here to support him, not break down as well because then he’ll feel guilty. He always says you’re one of the most important people in his life - Steve obviously being another one - and that seeing you cry makes him want to go feral on whoever or whatever made you sad.

“I had to,” he says, muffled by his face tucking into your neck. “I just. I couldn’t not. I thought I was ready, I thought I could go there and be okay. But I wasn’t. I… He broke me.” Bucky trails off, sighing heavily before he goes quiet again, giving you time to process this information.

“Baby,” You say, prompting Bucky to hum in acknowledgment. “Can you look at me, please?”

You know it takes a lot of effort, but he does. Bucky lifts his head from your neck, looking into your eyes with overwhelming sorrow. Bending your head, you place a quick kiss on his lips.

“This might sound odd, but I’m proud of you. You thought you were healed enough to do it, you went through the planning and probably had to hype yourself up a lot to even agree to the mission. And that’s immense progress. The fact that you even felt ready, even if you ultimately weren’t, you pushed through it and finished the mission. And that’s something to be celebrated. Sometimes recovery can be set back by certain events, but that doesn’t mean that everything else you’ve accomplished is set back as well. You tried, and I’m proud of you.”

With that said, you give Bucky another kiss, lingering a little longer this time before pulling back and holding his gaze.

“And I know you promised to not kill anyone, but I don’t blame you in this situation. I don’t know what this says about me, but even though I don’t know exactly how you killed him, and I don’t think I want to honestly, I do know he deserved far worse than what you gave him. He’s just lucky I wasn’t there because I genuinely don’t know what I would have done if I saw him.”

Bucky’s mouth forms into the smallest of smiles, and you can’t help but want to burn the world to the ground if it means he was protected from the harm it brought him.

“I know you’re the man, and that, stereotypically, men are supposed to be the protector, the provider, but you also deserve to be protected, to have everything you could ever want. And I want to give that to you. I know you are your own person and you do a damn well job of taking care of yourself, but I also want to take care of you. I want to protect you from everything bad, everything that’s ever harmed you, and everything that could potentially harm you in the future.”

You place a kiss on his forehead, squeezing the arm that’s around his upper back to hug him tighter to you.

“You’re the love of my life, baby. Now and forever.”

Bucky shudders slightly, leaning up to kiss your jaw, then one to your cheek, one on the corner of your mouth, and one final kiss to your lips. Your hand continues to run through his hair, tugging at it slightly, causing your boyfriend to sigh in contentment and tighten his hold on you as well. You’re locked in the embrace for a long moment, his lips gliding over yours as the kiss remains relatively chaste. But then, he pulls away.

“Darling,” He says, and for the first time in two days, he finally looks like he’s getting back to his old self. “I - I don’t think I’m ready to talk about everything that happened during the mission right now, I kind of just want to hear you talk so I can get my mind off of it for a little if that’s okay?” He looks a bit nervous asking for that, but you’re quick to nod, offering him a smile of your own. Bucky smiles a tad bit wider and removes one of his arms from around your body so he can slowly reach up and take hold of your hand that’s still running through his hair. Stubble tickles your palm as Bucky presses his lips there, then turns his gaze up to look into your eyes.

“I can’t even describe how much I love you. It scares me, sometimes, the things I would do for you. I need you to know that I will do everything I can to make you as happy and safe as you make me. You’re just… you’re incredible. And I can’t thank you enough for how much you’ve helped me over the past two years that we’ve been together, even the entire year before we started dating when we were just friends.”

His eyes start watering for a whole other reason now. Bucky looks so damn in love that you’d think it hurt, and you would know because that’s exactly how you feel about him.

“I - I know we haven’t talked about it, and I don’t even have a ring, but I can’t ever imagine loving anyone as much as I love you. I’m devoted to you, now and forever. I don’t know how you feel, but if you’re ever willing to…” He pauses, and you feel your heartbeat increase rapidly, a sudden happiness flooding your body.

“If I were to one day ask you to marry me, would you say yes?”

You’ve never nodded faster in your life, nor have you ever said ‘yes’ so quickly to anything Bucky has asked.

The large sigh of relief your boyfriend lets out lets you know he’s probably been thinking about this for a while, and you would swear your heart is about to burst from how much you love this man as you hold him close to your chest and place absentminded kisses on his forehead, cheeks, lips, the top of his head.

Everything stays silent for a few minutes, letting the conversation taper off. That is, until Bucky puts his head back on your shoulder, lacing his fingers with yours and bringing your hands up to kiss your knuckles.

“Can you talk to me?”

Humming in agreement, you run your hand that’s still on his back up and down in a soothing motion.

“Do you want to hear about how Sam almost broke his arm last week?”

#let me know what y'all think!!#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic rec #bucky barns #james barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x reader #my writing #my stuff

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stormsplurge · 6 days

Text

i can do it with a broken heart

warnings: smut stuff, handjobs, etc.

pairing(s): seth jarvis x fem! reader

okay this is kind of rough cause i actually lowk suck at writing smut but i cant get better without practice so! this is also like not proofread at all sorry, title is because of the taylor song except it kind of has nothing to do with the plot i was just listening to it when i got the idea and then it kind of just devolved into just smut instead of an actual plot

1071 words

two losses in a row.

two games full of stupid penalties, and dangerous hits.

it was frustrating, watching your boyfriend work his ass off only to have all the effort he put in fall flat once the final whistle gets blown, and part of your chest ached thinking about how he was handling it.

everytime you watched seth get knocked into the boards you tensed up, immediately worrying about if he was okay or not. mentally and physically.

he had been hard on himself all season, trying to prove that last years sophomore slump was just that: a sophomore slump, and make his presence on the team known. but no matter how well he played the devil on his shoulder still told him he wasnt supposed to be there.

there was also, of course, the added pressure of being in the playoffs. wanting to give it your all every night to get the veterans on the team to the final round, and feeling like youd let them down whenever you lose.

seth had been taking that part of playoffs especially hard, feeling like he owed it to burnzie to finally get him a cup. a thank you for taking him under his wing when he first got to carolina.

he had been working on breaking his habit of getting in his head, and having a terrific series against the islanders certainly helped, but watching him on the bench you could see the gears turning in his brain and reverting back to his pessimistic tendencies.

as much as you wanted to be with him in new york, you were forced to wait at home in raleigh for seth to come home.

——

it was late when he got back from new york.

you were waiting in the living room, fighting back the fatigue that so desperately wanted to wash over you, willing yourself to stay awake until you boyfriend came home.

the clock had just barely hit 12:30 when you heard the front door slowly creak open and all of seths bags hit the floor.

jumping up from your spot on the couch you hurried over to the foyer where he stood, wrapping your arms around him and melting into his touch.

“im so sorry” you whispered into his chest, rubbing circles into his back as you let him rest his head on yours.

seth didnt respond, instead opting for a single grunt like noise and tightening his grip around you.

“are you okay?” you asked as you finally pulled your head from the hole it was digging in his sternum “i saw you taking advil on the bench”

“ill be fine.” he replied “i just want to stay like this”

“i know.” you mused, “but i have a better idea, lets take a shower. i can wash your hair and you can get that plane smell off of you before you get into bed.”

you got another grunt response, which you took as a yes, so you laced your fingers with his and led him towards the bathroom.

you and seth helped each other out of your clothes, slowly peeling back layers upon layers of fabric.

in a sense, it felt like you were tearing down the walls he’d put up in the couple of days hed been away. sanding down the mental dirt and grime that had slowly built up when seth was in new york.

maybe it was the time apart, or the melting pot of emotions in the bathroom, but the second the two of you were under the spray of the showerhead seth pulled you into a deep kiss.

his hands snaked around your waist as his teeth lightly bit down onto your lower lip, coaxing a whimper from your lips and turning your legs into jelly.

“i missed you so much” he mumbled into your mouth

“oh yeah?” you grinned, dragging your nails down his thighs and letting your fingers linger near the base of his cock. “prove it”

his dick twitched at the challenge, practically jumping into your hands as you began languidly moving your hands up and down his shaft. the mixture of shower water and precum coating your palms.

as you continued your sloppy handjob, seths hands made their way from your lower back to in between your legs. he’d pushed the two of you up against the shower wall and slightly hitched one of your legs up, allowing him access to your core.

his calloused fingers made their way atop your clit, smoother than usual due to the pruning the water was doing to them, but there was only so much water could do. and his free hand made its way to your nipples. gently pulling and twisting as the ball of nerves grows in your stomach.

“im so close” you moan as you speed up your hands, trying to get seth to come at the same time as you.

“so am i baby” he grunts out as he begins rutting his hips up into your hands.

everything about this is sloppy. from the way his wet hair haphazardly falls onto his forehead when he looks up at you to the way your head digs into the tile behind you as you continue climbing towards an orgasm.

the various moans, whimpers, and grunts filled the bathroom as the two of you finally reach your climax.

ropes of cum splatter onto your hips before quickly being washed away by the stream of water from the showerhead, and you reach towards the loofah hanging on the door. adding a dollop of body wash before spinning seth around so you can clean the hard to reach places on his back.

“i love you so much” he says. “thank you for doing this.”

“you dont need to thank me seth, we have sex all the time this is nothing new.”

“i know, but like- you know. thanks for doing all this. like knowing exactly what i needed after that shitshow game today.”

“oh seth,” you reply, spinning him around and taking his head in your hands.

“i’m serious, i love you so much.”

“i love you too.” you say as you pull him into another kiss.

as the water drips over you two you cant help but smile, satisfied with the fact that even though the canes had sustained two losses in a row, you were able to cheer your boyfriend up with a simple shower.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #seth jarvis x reader #nhl fic #seth jarvis #seth jarvis imagine #carolina hurricanes #nhl

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silverhairsimp · 6 months

Text

I Can't Sleep Without You

Pairing: Bokuto x fem!Reader

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT ENTER. PWP. Oral (f!receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, consensual recording. Bokuto is the consent king. Doesn't matter how long you've been together.

a/n: I had this idea in the middle of the night and woke up to draft half of it. finally finished it so here you goooo :) enjoy! not proof read. also. two posts in one day? who tf am I?

reblogs are always appreciated <3

Trying to balance dating a professional volleyball player with a full career of your own has always been a challenge. No matter how badly you wanted to be there at every single game, every international trip, it just wasn’t realistic.

You and Koutarou had been together since your third year of high school. You survived college together (despite the long distance), and after living together since he went pro, it was nearly impossible to get a good night's sleep whenever he was away for games.

And this time was no different. He had been gone for a 10 day trip overseas for one of the biggest tournaments of the year. Between your work schedule, his practice schedule, and the time difference… phone calls were scarce, texts were short lived and it was really starting to get to you. Sleeping in your giant bed without him was hard enough! The last thing you needed was for your schedules to be the farthest thing from compatible.

As the days went on, it got harder and harder. The side of his bed was so cold without his warm body next to you and it was beginning to be too much. Logically there was only one solution: get all the pillows in the house, your favorite sweatshirt of his, his cologne and cuddle up in bed to make due. And until he got back, this is how you slept.

You had practically built a barricade in the bed, pillows surrounding you in every direction and corner. He wasn’t supposed to be back for another two days, but by some miracle he had gotten home early. Unbeknownst to you though… it was the middle of the night by the time he got back and what a surprise it was to see upon his arrival. Or at least it would have if you were awake to greet him.

You were snuggled up under the covers, leg hiked up over one pillow with your arms clinging to another for dear life. You’ve got his sweatshirt on and he can smell the fresh scent of his cologne from the door to your bedroom. It wasn’t enough for you to just spray it on the sweatshirt though, you had to put a few drops of it into the diffuser so the whole room would smell like him.

You must be so tired because you hadn’t even moved a muscle since he walked in. Quickly and quietly, he sets his bags down and changes into his comfy clothes to get some sleep with you finally in his arms again. Only when he goes to crawl into bed, there’s almost no room! “Baby girl… you trying to replace me or something?” He asks as he brushes your hair out of your eyes and smoothes it behind your ear, followed by a tender kiss to your forehead. “There she is,” he smiles warmly at you when you finally start to open your eyes. “Kou? You’re home already?” You sit up and rub the sleep out of your eyes with the heel of your hand. He sits on the edge of the bed and nods his head, “One of the teams dropped out last minute so our games got cut back, we had already played each team twice… no sense in playing them a third, or at least that what coach thought–” he’s babbling and you smile at him, reaching out your arms finally happy and complete now that you’ve got your boyfriend back with you. “Sooo,” he draws out, “wanna tell me what’s going on with all the pillows? And why I can smell my cologne in the diffuser?” He asks with a soft chuckle and a bright smile. He’s not mad at all, not in the slightest. “Just missed you is all… had a hard time sleeping without you.” It’s actually really endearing you’d gone to such lengths to keep yourself comfortable while he was gone. And to be fair, he was no better. He slept with that polaroid of the two of you under his pillow, the one from after his first win as part of the MSBY Black Jackals. He had scored the winning spike and was so excited that he ran straight to you before the refs had even called the game. It’s such a fond memory of his and it's honestly what keeps him going. You are what keeps him going. “Well, I’m here now, so… can I have my spot back, or am I still being substituted by a bunch of pillows?” He laughs as you throw the pillows off the bed, not caring if they fall to the ground or land against the wall. The only thing that matters is that you have him back. And that’s very clear once you throw your arms around his neck and climb into his lap. His hands settle on your hips as he finally gets to hold you and kiss you again after far too long.

“Missed you too– by the way–” He mumbles against your lips, in between kisses. All of a sudden, you aren’t so tired anymore, he can tell by the way you start to rock your hips in his lap and tug on the hairs at his nape. When he wore his hair down, it made grabbing and tugging at it so much easier, and if he’s being honest, it’s one of the reasons why he started doing it more often.

He moves the two of you back against the headboard, sitting upright with you still in his lap. “You don’t still need this do you?” He tugs on the strings of his hoodie, “now that I’m back?” You shake your head and smile before telling him: “take it off”, and who is he to deny anything you could ever want.

His lips find yours while his large, calloused hands travel up your hips to your waist, just wanting to feel you again before gathering the fabric and pushing it up and over your head. “There she is… my beautiful girl…” He places open mouthed kisses up your bare chest, between the valley of your breasts before giving some much needed attention to your tits. He rolls his tumb over one nippple while his mouth swirls around the other, sucking on it before popping off and moving to the other side.

“Missed your body– missed kissing you goodnight every night… missed fucking you to sleep on others…” He keeps mumbling between kisses while you grind against his lap. “Missed you too baby… tried to take care of myself, but it never feels as good as when you do it.” He snickers at that, “Poor baby, your fingers not long enough? Need me to take care’a you?” When you nod your head yes, he flips you on to your back, positioning himself right between your thighs.

Your fingers claw at his shirt, wanting him to match, it was only fair that way. He lets you pull it off, lowering his head to get it out of the hole and pulling one arm out before tossing the shirt on the ground, left to be forgotten about until morning. “Bet you taste so good… can I, baby? Can I taste you?” When you nod your head yes and push his head down further he stops, “Uh uh, gotta hear you say it… you know that.” He places a few kisses right above your collarbone, sucking a mark into the skin there while he waits for your consent. “Please Kou, want you to. I need it– need you so bad– please touch me…” It was more than enough to satisfy him. Hearing your cute little plea’s just to get him to touch you after your time apart.

“That’s a good girl– my good girl. Now, hips up for me–” He instructs as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and slides them down your legs. Grinning at the silvery strands that connect to the fabric as he pulls them away. “So wet already… were you thinking about me before I got back?” He asks as he tugs his boxers down his thighs, not wanting to worry about them later. “Always think about you when you’re gone–” you whisper as you arch off the bed, longing for his touch. “Yeah? Me too…” He lowers himself down onto the bed and kicks even more of the pillows off as he presses kisses to your inner thighs while he gets closer and closer to what he really wants– what he needs. “Spend so much time getting myself off to those naughty pictures you send… all the videos we’ve taken… Gettin’ me all worked up just thinking about them.” He licks a fat stripe through your folds and suckles on your clit, that smirk on his face growing wider as you twitch under his touch. “Why don’t we add to the collection, hm baby? Wanna take a video of how good I eat you out? Have something to remember me for the next time I’m away?” You nod your head and quickly scramble to find your phone. If it weren’t for the face id, you’d certainly be struggling to enter or even remember your password right now. That chime of the camera sounds and the flash turns on, reflecting in his honeyed eyes as he devours you. It's obscene. The way his chin and corners of his mouth are already covered in your slick. Or the way his eyes have never left the camera. Gods what did you do to deserve a man that takes such good care of you?

That question lingers even longer when he kisses your thighs and spits right onto your pussy, only to bring two fingers to your cunt. “C’mon sweetheart, wanna hear you… don’t keep those cute noises all to yourself… wanna have this video too and watch it in the showers, or in my hotel room all alone and remember how good I made you feel.” When you start to get louder, he works even harder. Giving you his tongue and his fingers at the same time. He’s curling them inside of you so perfectly and hits that spot over and over again until you’re coming undone within minutes. “That’s it baby girl– ride it out– use me, please…” He begs you and hums against your cunt when you start to rock your hips against his face. You’re trying your best to hold the camera steady while your other hand reaches to fist his hair, tugging him even closer while another orgasm builds. “Kou– fuck… want your cock– please, need you after so long–” You beg and gods he can’t wait to replay this video over and over again, hearing you plead for him. “Anything for you– gimme the phone, sweetheart.” He removes his fingers, popping them in his mouth to wipe off the rest of your essence while he sits back on his haunches and takes the phone from you.

“Be a good girl and get on all fours for me…” When you do what he asks, he gives your ass a little love smack and uses your phone to get a good view of your pussy. It's so slick with his saliva and he’s sure it’ll make it even easier to slip right in.

Still, your boyfriend isn’t a small guy, so he spits right on the tip of his cock and pumps himself a few times. Of course making sure to record it for you later.

He's got the phone pointed straight down as he watches his cock push past that tight ring of muscle through the screen. “F-fuck…” he mutters breathlessly, and you’re not far behind with curses of your own. “Hnngh, baby… go slow… been a while…” “I know love, you’re doing so good for me, aren’t you?” When all you do is nod your head he stills his hips, “Aren’t you?” He asks again in a more firm tone, “Yes– doing good for you, only for you, Kou… please.”

Gods you really are such a good girl, his perfect baby. A few moments pass as he allows you to adjust, once you give him the okay, he draws back his hips and thrusts forward again. The sound of skin slapping skin echoes against the quiet walls of your shared bedroom and it’s music to his ears. Hearing that and hearing your cries of pleasure is all he could ever wish for.

“Can already feel you clenching around me… gonna cum?” he asks as he continues to piston his cock into you, when you babble on a string of ‘yes’s and ‘please let me cum’ he tosses the phone on the bed and reaches around to rub tight circles around your clit. Working you up until that second release hits and you’re gushing round his cock, making a mess on the sheets below.

“Fuck– squirting like that without a proper warning? Naughty girl…” He snickers as he picks up the pace even more, chasing that blissful high of his own. “Gonna cum, baby– gonna fill ya up nice and deep, yeah? Bet you missed this the most… missed my cum inside you, hm?”

“Yes– fuck– yes, missed your cum– please, kou– need t’feel it, please!” You beg so pretty for him and he wouldn’t dream of not giving you what you wanted so with one final warning, he lets you know he’s cumming and shortly after he’s painting your walls white.

He keeps thrusting, getting it as deep as he can until he’s given you everything he could hold before he collapses on top of you. Even with the video long forgotten about, the phone is still recording all the audio. He holds you close in his arms, pulling your leg over his hip with his cock still buried inside of you. “I love you, so much… you know that right?”

You rest your hand on his chest and nod, “Yes, Kou. I know, and I love you too. Just as much.”

He rubs soothing strokes along your backside and peppers your forehead with kisses until you’re closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep. He finds your phone as quietly as he can and flips the camera to face him, telling the camera one last time, ‘i love you’, before turning it off.

Being away from you while he’s away for tournaments may suck, but getting to come home to you like this makes it all worthwhile.

#bokuto x reader #bokuto x fem!reader #bokuto smut #bokuto fluff #warning: recording #I LOVE HIM #bokuto kotaro smut #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto x y/n #tays fics #shs fics

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stackslip · 2 months

Note

CAN YOU ELABORATE ON TLT BEING A HOMESTUCK FANFIC‽‽‽‽‽

i'm exaggerating a bit, but taz muir was a well known homestuck writer who wrote under the username urbanAnchorite. her fic the serendipity gospels is one of my fave fics ever, but was never finished and it's only by book 2 of tlt that i figured that the clear allusions to it in book 1 weren't just cute little nods but that she'd expanded on some of the ideas/concepts and worldbuilding of the serendipity gospels. to name a few:

the ninth house cult is heavily based on the juggalo church muir wrote/expanded upon in TSG, from face paint to the rituals and a lot of the accompanying prose

act 2 of TSG takes place mainly in a spaceship that serves as "cathedral" of the juggalo cult, and is described to be covered in bones that have been painted in many colors--which is close to the description of the mithraeum

act 2 also features the two main characters being much younger people mentored/manipulated into horrible acts by an old man who is thousands of years old and bickering with his other thousand year old friends/enemies, who seem to share knowledge and understanding that neither the two protagonists do but also deeply resent one another. hard to not read a parallel to john and the lyctors here!

to elaborate on this bc i just realized it: it is heavily implied in TSG that the dancestors (older people thousands of years old) went through a universe reset and built the empire in the image of their own trauma and anger, which would v much parallel what happens to john on earth and how he "reset" humanity

less of a homestuck thing and more of a taz muir thing: said old man is v much grooming the main female character and making her life miserable during the entirety of act 2

a lot of the story takes place in the background of the trolls' empire being a horrific imperialist force that the main characters were originally very excited to join and become a part of, with one of these characters in particular daydreaming about becoming ground troop for invasion while also holding a terrible secret that would have precluded him of doing so anyway. p neat parallel to gideon's own thing here

act 1 and act 2 of TSG are from two different pov characters, with a drastic shift in prose style and understanding of the situation/world when the pov shifts. which v much echoes how tlt has worked so far. part 3 was barely started before it went on hiatus, but it followed the same pattern.

speaking of, the prose of act 2 of TSG definitely feels very close to harrow the ninth's prose. you can just open the fic and check the first chapter of act 2 and how it's written, and you'll see what i mean. there are differences--the prose of TSG act 2 is more inflected with southern usamerican evangelical speak, i think? i'm not american so i can't quite 200% tell

there is an external armed resistance to the empire's violent imperialism and resistance that was supposed to be the focus in act 3 of TSG, which never happened. nona the ninth did, though, and it follows that structure.

there are also eldritch horrors that threaten the entire universe--homestuck's own horrorterrors--that are in the background of TSG and implied to be an important part of the future plot that we never saw. tlt has the ressurrection beasts

taz muir's worldbuilding around the blood castes in og homestuck that she elaborates on in TSG also somewhat parallels the way the houses function in tlt

iirc there's also worldbuilding around space travel in tlt (such as the obelisks? i think that's the name? and the use of necromancy to power them) that parallels taz muir's own take on how space travel works in the troll empire, using psionics and draining them dry in a similar way

i think the necro-cav relationship 'ideal' is based around how taz also interpreted moirallegiance in not just TSG but all her homestuck fics, down to how its legal implementation and the idealization of it vs its role in troll/houses imperialism and the reality of blurred lines in "expected" relationships. i'd love to hear taz's discourse on troll romance

i also think the necro-cav relationship parallels the other legal pairing explored in TSG--legislacerator and subjugglator.

there are probably more parallels i am missing--i need to reread TSG soon, as i haven't in a while. there are elements i'd say are more like, how taz herself elaborated on the bones of the worldbuilding of homestuck and then made it her own thing, which is rad as hell. other elements are more fun nods, such as gideon's aviator glasses being shamelessly stolen from dave homestuck, and a lot of gtn's prose feeling very homestuckey. it's def not like, just a little rewrite and boom, you get the locked tomb! imo it's more elements of plot and worldbuilding that were interesting enough to develop into something of its own and that taz made into something new, along with other elements of other stories (such as lolita and umineko) being woven into it. part of why i enjoy tlt so much is its "collage" aspect, taking elements taz thought interesting in other stories, or using these elements to purposefully evoke specific feelings/moods to construct or obsfucate certain ideas.

#eli talks #tlt #homestuck

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toomanythoughts4myhead · 5 months

Text

A drop of poison goes a long way

Summary: More insight in Coriolanuses work life and the veil of what is going inside his past loves head is finaly revealed. Coriolanus is offered what he wants. Will it be his doom again?

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow and his brain; mentions of attempted murder, shooting, gun violence, prosthetic as result; Capitol people.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I am so sorry it took me this long to write this. December wasn't 🎄Decembering🎄 it was 📝Decembering📝. I hope you enjoy and I will try to be more on schedule. Hope yall enjoy.

[<-Prev. chapter][Masterlist][Next chapter->]

Coriolanus liked to think of himself as a sensible individual by Capitol standards, to say the least.

Then why has he been on the verge of ripping his hair out for the past day and a half?

Ever since Dr Gaul had presented to him his "fixed" songbird he has been in a state of mind unbecoming of the image he has built himself to be. He even had to cancel his lunch outing with Solicis Saddler, a hefty sponsor of the games with an odd bloodthirst for someone who was missing most of his natural teeth and had gotten a tacky golden replacement.

Dr Gaul hadn't allowed for him to take you home or stay long, not that he had been able to protest, eyes glued to your form like ot would set you on fire or make you crawl back in his arms. He didn't want to think about the consequences; he knew he had failed whatever test this was supposed to be. He should have remained stoic and proud, barely sparing you a glance. Instead, he gaped at you, hopefully with a closed mouth.

He had gotten used to troubling his mind with various plots and schemes before bed, usually that kept his mind at bay and away from you. Now, you came back in strutting to render him powerless over his own being. He felt stupid and weak, unsure who to hate more - himself or you.

He decides he hates you most.

After the encounter, he had gotten back in his car and gone to work, collecting himself now that you were out of sight. With the rise of popularity after the 11th and especially 12th game the making of the Hunger Games had become a lot more professional and lavish, the personal had expanded and even changed and added buildings to the office.

As a head game maker, he worked and operated over the main building, the center, and the gem of the whole operation. The building itself was in various shades of whites and blacks, and all in-between, a lot of the structure was from black and white marble with golden cracks. Coriolanus liked working there, in his expensive suits and office at the top of the building, overlooking the whole Capitol. he felt powerful, as he should. He was the one in control.

The main game makers teams were separated and had multiple departments that discussed locations, structures, finances, networking and so on and forth, anything needed for the games to run smoothly and be as entertaining as possible. He was the one who organized meetings and approved ideas and made sure they would also be reasonable by the almost limitless budget. This meant he technically worked only a few hours; the other time, he spent building ties and attending lunches and dinners that would benefit him. Technically, since he is the head and face of the operating, whatever helped him helped the community. So, no one complained or questioned him.

This day was horrible and he breezed by most of it, he felt that on the back of his mind he was reliving this morning over and over and decided its best not to interact with one of his best sponsors when not fully with hus mind. He had fumbled some excuse on his way back from work that he didn't feel good, which was partly true.

Now, the hot water of his shower was burning his skin as he increased it again. He didn't like the burning hot but thus was about discipline. I remember who he was now and for what eh stood. He wouldn't allow you to take this away from him again.

His sleep was troubled and came upon him way too late, his skin felt raw and sensitive from the waterx maybe he shouldn't over do it too much, he wouldn't like for people to notice. His carefully glided back curls were sticking everywhere, and he felt aggitated, but he fell asleep in the early hours of the morning. Not uncommon.

° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ °

In the morning, he felt better. He rose with the same confidence he had adopted and went out for a run. At least his stay in the districts had taught him discipline and instilled the need to train his body, something all the spoiled and often drugged up or obese people of the Capitol seem to lack. It made him stand out, with his sculpted torso and wide shoulders, strong but not intimidating brutishly so, he filled out his shirts and suits in way he never could back when he was barely eating anything with substance.

It had snowed again last night, surely a good fortune. His sneakers left imprints in the still not cleared up paths in the near park, his breath fanned over his face in clouds of white smoke, he could feel the chilling air nip at his sides through the thin running clothes he had. He felt alive.

By this time, his avoxes were up and on the go, tending to the apartment and the his work clothes and breakfast. He knew their routine like the back of his hand, and so they didn't dare step out of it; it felt good. Each day he got the same royal treatment, no back talk (or any talk for that matter), after a while even he didn't have to talk to them, they knew what to do, he would often limited himself to simple commands. It was a pleasant start to his day since he had to deal with pompous arrogant moneybags for a living.

When he reached the street on which his apartment resided the sun was starting to turn the sky redish. He felt a faint sheen of sweat on his doby and shuddered as his body started to cool down from the exercise, what caught his attention was one of his avoxes waiting for him at the threshold of the apartment. Coriolanus raised an eyebrow as he approached, straightening his back and slowing down his breathing. Judging by the unsure look on their face he knew something had gone wrong, they weren't supposed to be here.

"Could you explain to me what you are doing outside?"

The avoxe looked up at him with gaze that held too much fear, sure he had punished avoxes before but not so cruelly. A mere doubling of chores or less food had been all he had done, merely disciplinary shows of power. The same way a dog needs to be taught, so do humans. The avoxe passed him a note, an envelope sealed with red wax in the capitols symbol. A message from the Citadel.

Coriolanus lifted an eyebrow. Receiving mail isn't exactly an out of the ordinary thing, he doesn't think it's really worth it freeze his ass of and catch something over a letter, but his gnawing intuition told him it was something bad. The realization seeped through and he felt an unpleasant churning in his timach as he ripped the envelope and read the letter.

It would hardly be called a letter since it consistented barely two sentences but It made his head spin.

"Take this as an encouragement from the staff of the Citadel for all your hard work. We hope you don't mind we clipped your Songbirds wings a little."

It wasn't signed but it didn't have to be. Who else could have scared his staff this badly but Dr Gaul? The implications of the letter set in and he barged into his apartment way too quickly, almaot shoving the avoxes down the stairs.

Snow fells and littered his floor, making wet spots on his white rug, but it wasn't the only thing tainting his apartment. There on his couch he found you, sitting cross-legged and fighting woth the decorative bouquet of roses on the coffee table. Your gaze snapped to him, watching hiw with curiosity and a startled look in your eyes as he stared back with such intensity it made you feel uncomfortable.

The hospital gown he had seen before had been switched for a creame white knitted dress that reached your knees and black leggings with boots, semi-useful for the weather and surprisingly basic for the extravagant taste of the Capitol. In the natural light seeping from the glass wall your prosthetic arm looked too natural. You looked too natural, unchanged, maybe even bettered by some fancy Capitol equipment.

What surprised him most was the way you looked at him.

He had spend a long time going over all possibilities of interactions between him and you, he had imagined a cold shoulder, yelling, screaming, maybe you would even try to attack him. But you looked at him with admiration, your face brightened as you placed your warm gaze on him. Not lovingly like before, you didn't seem to recognize him fully.

He walked closer until your knees were a hairstarnd away from his thigh and stopped. He didn't know how to react, he could feel the grasp of control he wielded best at his own house. You just had that effect on him, maybe it was the puppy smile on your face.

As he approaches you stand up, now he can clearly see the white bow on your head, truly wrapped like a present for him.

"Dr Gaul sends her warmest regards. And im here to thank you personally for all you have done for me."

Coriolanus despote everything found himself even more confused. Sure, he had done a lot of you: kept you alive during the Hunger games, cheat in the Hunger games for you, carry out some duty in district 12. He hadn't imagined you'd be thankful for it now. His lack of response must have confused you.

"I am so very thankful you saved me from the districts. I would have been left for dead if you hadnt sent your team of doctors to help me." - you add with a sweet genuine smile and loving gaze.

What?

"Well i couldnt leave my girl for dead among these animals. You know I'd do anything for you." - he smiled back and went as far as to gently grasp your hand in a sweet gesture.

He is grasping at loose straws here. It was evident that your memory was very... selective and altered. He could somewhat force himself to imagine that it was all due to the incident, but he knew better. This was all Dr Gauls idea and work. He needed to figure out more of the scenario Dr Gaul had constructed for you. And to find out how.

You seemed to like the gesture, squeezing his hand into your smaller one. Your hands were softer, not calloused or rough from playing guitar or surviving, but soft and inviting. Your nails were even done, he had to give it up.to the person in charge of your presentation, they had truly went all in.

"It all happened so fast, the doctors never filled me in fully of what exactly happened." - he said feigning ignorance and worry.

"It was horrible. After i returned i wanted to see my family so bad, but everyone turned on me. They chased me down through the forest because i had managed to get a glimpse of what thwy want - wealth and power, even if briefly from the Capitol. My own family tried to shoot me." - you said and it visibly made you upset, your voice became more uneven, wobbling lightly with along with your bottom lip.

Your own blood? You had no living family, you'd said so yourself before. It appears the lab team had decided to do this in the most dramatic way possible.

He put his thumb on your slightly trembling chin, running his knuckles over your reddening bottom lip and coo at you sympatheticly, as much as he could.

"My poor girl, im so sorry it took us this long to get you back and kicking. Those people certainly did a number on your poor body." - he ran his free hand up on the prosthetic bicep, it felt colder to the touch, not as squishy as human flesh and fat, but surprisingly close.

You nod into the palm of his hand, looking at him with big watery eyes. This is amazing, Coriolanus thought. He had you right how he always wanted you, under his thumb and eating out of his palm. You were like a frail little fawn waking up after the cruel winter had passed, everything is different but so so familiar. He would be your guide, he will show you the right way, he will be your light and your dark. You will worship and thank him for taking your control and responsibilities away.

All hate seemed to be burried for now, this opportunity made Coriolanus too excited, to have his favorite toy back. You weren't the girl who had sicked a snake on him, no, that girl was dead, trapped in her own body but permanently erased. Whatever he had now was the perfect doll with your face slapped on it.

"Oh my precious lamb, welcome home."

He cooed and tried to keep the sadistic glint in his eyes from showing too much. He put his arms around you, big hands digging into the warm material of your lower back, the rose ring on his pointer finger scraped the material. Your cheek was pressed against collarbone, nosing at his neck. Even a few seconds in his embrace and the sickeningly sweet smell of white roses was clinging to your whole body. Even a few minutes were enough for his poison to take root.

He runs his hands up and down your back, keeping you close. It felt good, to feel your warmth again, it made something tick in his brain whenever he felt your warmer weaker body against his. Call it animal instincts or a sick mind, neither are too far off.

"Ive missed you" he croons in your neck, his nose bumps your pulse point and it makes your head feel lighter. You are alsmot too loat in each other, but the feeling of being watched makes you open your eyes to find a nervous looking older woman. You instinctively true and pull away from Coriolanuses tight embrace but he doesn't let up, his hands just dig deeper into the fat on your hips and sides.

"Where do you think you are running off to? Are you not happy to be mine?" - he asked with a mocking tone but the intensity in his eyes never wavered.

"Corio, there is someone her-"

"Just an avoxe, no need to be shy. She wont say a peep." - replied clamly and stood back to his full height, keeping you good to his side like an accessory. Your face was held to his chest by the back of your neck, the hold wasn't strong but you hadnt tried to break free either. It made your cheeks burn a tad bit. "What seemes to be the problem?"

The woman stood still and pondered how to explain it without actual words but the loud bickering of an old man that could be also drunk and rattle of metal made Coriolanuses breath hitches for a moment.

Solicis Saddler.

He had promised dinner at his penthouse to make up for canceling, to go over the future plans of the games to keep the bloodthirsty man at bay and his wallet open for all gruesome scenes. Judging by his pompous screaming and yelling at his staff he had taken the invitation to heart.

Coriolanus had completely forgot about this. And it made him feel like the ever-growing tower that was his life was tilting, he was getting sloppy. He needed to focus again. He won't repeat the same mistakes.

Pressed against him, Coriolanus could feel you flinch as the octaves kept on getting louder. He needed to apologize to his neighbors tomorrow for all the chatter. He gave your waist a squeeze and kept you locked to him.

"Let him in."

(Not my best but lemme cook chat, i.swear ill do better next time.)

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lowkeyrobin · 2 months

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you could please do newt (platonic/familial) with a younger sibling who makes/mends close and personality wise is similar to Luz from TOH? Thank you! :D

yesyesyesyesyesywsyes omg please keep the maze runner requests coming I'm very very fixated atm kdk how to function, PLEASE SPAM ME W TMR REQS RJNENE ; anyways thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy!! ; post writing robin here, I tried with the personality like Luz but I struggled for some reason so I'm so sorry about that LMAO

NEWT ; clothing maker/mender

summary ; you make and mend clothing around the Glade, and Newt is somehow always there to help

warnings ; language, Newt is still a runner so pre-injury era

genre ; platonic fluff

word count ; 1.1k

masterlist

The day you came up in the box, you were frightened and felt like you didn't fit in with the other kids of the Glade. You were socially awkward and didn't know how to talk to people, although being a people pleaser.

Talking was just hard for you, but luckily, Newt understood. He tucked you under his wing and tried to help you fit in with the others, but to no avail. Nothing was sticking out to you, it wasn't like jobs were supposed to be enjoyable but you truly couldn't fit in anywhere. The fifteen year old boy with dirty blonde hair was there for you, though, reassuring you that actually becoming a Glader, even after remembering your name, took time.

Becoming a Runner was off the table at day one, you had zero stamina and could barely run for shit, let alone your life, you and Newt, and Alby, Minho, and the other Runners quickly agreed upon that. Being a Builder was quickly eliminated as well, because you didn't want to deal with obnoxious assholes like Gally, Hank, and Alec all day long. Plus, you knew nothing about "structural integrity" or whatever the hell they were talking about anyways, wood to hammer to nail was all you saw.

You quickly gained a friendship with Winston after a month or two in the Glade, but no way in Hell were you joining the Slicers either. You'd gain an emotional attachment to the animals much too quickly to then watch them die, the emotional despair would be a bit much at the moment. Bagger was also off the charts, leaving Med-Jack and Track-Hoe on the table for you.

Newt wasn't going to let you become a Slopper, considering you weren't bad at helping people nor farming, you just had to find your thing that you'd be comfortable doing. So, you settled on Track-Hoe as they needed more help in the gardens and you wouldn't mind getting your hands dirty, with dirt, that is. No blood.

You found, or maybe relearned, your nick for sewing one morning as you needed to repair your shirt, and ran straight to Newt with your new talent. After seeing it himself, Newt quickly bounced to Alby's side to ask if you could make mending and making clothes your job. You hadn't had any luck finding a job out of the many in the Glade, clearly, so this might've been your luck turning.

The next coming days were slow. Thankfully, Alby approved your idea of a new job, considering you and Newt wouldn't stop pestering him about it, and it'd be a great convenience to have you around for something as necessary as clothing. The builders graciously built you a little hut next to the Homestead to give you your own little place to go and work, instead of working around the Glade and potentially dirty-ing the clothes you fixed and made.

The hut consisted of a table, a loom, a hanging rack for finished projects, and a little chest system organized by all the threads, needles, etcetera. Alas, Newt was the one to help you with your new job on days when he wasn't running out in the maze. Minho switched him out with Ben or George on those days as per his request, as to help you learn how to talk to and understand the Gladers, whom you didn't understand too well yet.

But, by the time the next Greenie, Henry, arrived, you were right on track. You modeled and measured and patched and sewed your days away, finding peace in the seemingly boring activity. And by this time, Newt had become your brother figure and your best friend, considering how much he understood and supported you and helped you get some great opportunities around the Glade. And now, you were the Keeper of the Seamers, the only worker, but still the Keeper.

After a long day of running in the maze with Minho, Newt jogs to your expansion of the Homestead, desiring your help.

"Hey, Shank" He warmly smiles, closing the door made of sticks behind him. "How's your day been?"

You shrug in response. "Slow. Need me to fix anything for you?"

He awkwardly smiles and nods, looking down at his knees. His cargo pants are ripped, and the skin beneath painted a light red in comparison to his pale complexion, rug burns covering his kneecaps.

"Tripped and fell out in the maze" He explains, "Just don't want them falling apart because it kinda trailed 'round to the back" He says, tracing the little rips around his knees.

You nod. "I mean, the best solution would be keeping them like that or turning them into shorts for hot days. But I know the maze is cold and stuff, so, your call. I don't wanna ruin your running pants but I can always scrounge up new ones, and the next Greenie will be up in two days so it wouldn't be that long of a wait-"

"I'll just keep them ripped" He lightly smiles, cutting your rant off.

He knew damn well to not let you spiral over something so little, so he developed the radar to sniff out when you were about to rant about small things for an hour out of panic. He pats your shoulder before sitting down next to you, looking over at the rack of finished clothing you'd patched up and finished making.

"Oh, were you able to finish that shirt you were making for yourself?" He asks, running a hand through his hair.

Lord, he needed a haircut, although the best method of that was knives, which made it all choppy and blunt. Hopefully, WCKD would send up some cutting shears or something soon. All of your hair needed a cut desperately.

You nod, setting your needle and thread down to go grab it. You pull it off the rack and hold it to your chest. A simple, thin, off white, long sleeved shirt rests against your torso as you cheesily smile at him.

"Looks good"

"Thanks" You put the shirt back on the rack, deciding to put it back in the Homestead near your hammock later.

Newt was usually very supportive and went out of his way to show appreciation and reassurance for you, though making it casual to actually feel real for you. Once he found out that he needed to speak with you like that after reassuring that you'd live without rain, he learned the lesson.

Before you can speak again, Ben runs in, looking for your help.

"Y/n, I ripped up the sleeve of my shirt, can you fix it?" He asks, holding the grey-blue shirt up for you to see

"Yeah, sure, leave it on that table" You reply, pointing at the table in front of you.

"Thanks, you're the best!" He says, setting the shirt on the table before leaving.

Newt looks up at you and smiles, "You're getting used to talking to people, I see"

You nod, catching his infectious smile.

"Welcome to the Glade, Y/n/n"

#lowkeyrobin #tmr newt #tmr newt x reader #newt x reader #newt tmr #the maze runner x reader #maze runner x gn reader #maze runner x reader #maze runner oneshot #the maze runner #tmr x gn reader #tmr x reader #newt tmr x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader

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beekeeperspicnic · 4 months

Note

I'm literally sobbing;

it's time to talk about the game backgrounds.

You've done an exquisite job creating the game's atmosphere. Until recently, I couldn't quite grasp the indescribable feeling they evoked in me until I stumbled upon an illustration on Tumblr. In it, Tilda stands on the shore, gazing into the watery distance. The moment I saw this image, my heart skipped a few beats, and it has not let go of me, leading me to the state I find myself in as I write this letter.

My hometown is a city built along a river, devoid of tourists and featuring quiet stretches of sand on small beaches tucked away among slopes and tall shrubs. From my earliest childhood, I remember the river, which, in any season, maintained its grandeur—a broad waterline that at some point broke the line of the opposite shore, transitioning into the sea, practically merging with the sky.

For two years now, we've been at war; the shores are mined. In all this time, two people have lost their lives, and we're even asked to walk dogs near our yards. This place pulls and beckons, and sometimes, standing on the slope of the hill, I look down at the river, as if it still means everything, causing an inexplicable longing.

I don't know the context of the illustration, but how it imprinted in my memory helped me understand my feelings towards the atmosphere of your game. It so closely resembles my home, that lost place from better times.

Now, as I go through the demo version with friends, I occasionally point to the screen, saying that it looks like my hometown, and it becomes very cozy. I don't know if in the next ten or twenty years I'll be able to descend to my native shore without holding my breath in blind danger, but I do know that I have a wonderful substitute in your game.

I will faithfully await the release of the full game; thank you very much for this work—you're an inspiring person. Thanks again.

Thank you so, so much for writing this. The idea of my game being with you and even helping in some small way means so very much to me. I think I'll return to read this again very often.

I'll talk a bit about the context of the image below, so I guess if someone doesn't want to know, they should stop reading now!

**** SPOILERS BELOW ****

The game is set just after WW1 and the 1918–1920 flu pandemic. Both of Tilda's parents have died, and she is walking alone on the beach and thinking about that.

What she doesn't know is that Holmes and Watson are watching her from the clifftop, and considering how both they, and Tilda's extended family, care for her will always look after her.

I never know as a writer whether I should talk about the subtext of my own work, especially when it's a game that hasn't even been released yet. It might be that none of this really comes through in the final game, I don't know!

But I think it was initially a product of me processing the Covid-19 pandemic, and the reprehensible way politicians and policy makers and leaders acted, and the fact that people died, and the fact that we're all supposed to carry on our day to day lives as if that's ok now?

I say the game is set in 1920, but it's not really - it's set in a little universe set apart from ours. The characters in the game have all been affected by war and disease (and are still being affected by those things - and always will be affected by those things), and I've given them a space which is gentle to them as they look towards creating a better future.

#nice asks

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writeroutoftime · 10 months

Text

speak now

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: when peter is getting married, you just want to go and make sure he's happy. but what happens when the officiant asks a very pertinent question?

warnings: none

words: 1.8k

a/n: this is an idea I've had forever, but in honor of taylor's version of the 'speak now' album, I finally finished it! please enjoy!

oOoOo

Leaning against Michelle’s kitchen counter, you glanced down at her pile of mail and noticed a thick, glossy card sticking out. “What’s this?” you asked curiously, moving forward to pull the card out from the pile.

Before you could, Michelle’s hand reached out and snatched the card. “It’s nothing.” she told you, rather unconvincingly.

“Alright.” you conceded, looking the other way before darting your hand out to grab the card from MJ’s unsuspecting hands. “Let go!” you shouted, wrestling the paper into your grasp, letting out a triumphant shout when you won the struggle.

Looking down at the card, your eyes scanned the cursive lettering, quickly noticing it was an invitation, suddenly freezing in your spot. The longer you stared at the invitation, the more you thought your heart was going to break out of your chest with how erratically it was beating. Tears welled in your eyes, yet you did nothing to keep them at bay.

You are cordially invited to the wedding of Peter Benjamin Parker and Regina Ann Thompson on August 15, 2023

“y/n.” MJ began, approaching you cautiously, arms open and eyes cast down in pity.

“He’s getting married.” you whispered, more so to yourself than anyone else. “When did you get this?” you asked, spinning around to face your friend. “When did you get this?” you repeated, waving the invitation franticly.

“Three weeks ago.”

Three weeks ago. Definitely too long to blame the postal office for a late invitation. “So, he doesn’t want me there.” you spoke aloud, falling down into a nearby chair.

It wasn’t that you felt you deserved to be at Peter’s wedding or that it was the greatest sin of all times you weren’t invited; but you thought that after everything the two of you had been through he would have at least had the decency to call you – hell even a text would be great – to let you know he was engaged. Once upon a time, the two of you were a couple, and there was a time in your life you imagined that you would be the one to marry Peter. You were so young and in love, oblivious to the world around you and the challenges that threatened your relationship.

As one of Peter’s oldest friends, of course, you knew that he was Spider-Man. In fact, you supported him through it all, never letting it get in the way of your friendship or the feelings you had for him. Eventually, Peter wised up and asked you out, and the rest was supposed to be history. While everything was fine at first, down the road you learned how difficult it was being the significant other of a superhero.

The sweet nothings and soft gazes eventually morphed into harsh words thrown at each other in the middle of the night after long patrols for Peter and constant worrying for you. Secrets built up like skyscrapers and the trust that once existed between the two of you for so long dissolved. Eventually, you figured it was better to stop now before either of you said things you would regret, no matter how much it hurt.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you, y/n. You were just starting to live again, and I don’t want you to hole yourself back up.” MJ explained, wrapping her arms around your frame.

You let her hug you, keeping your own arms limp against your side, the gears in your mind turning and turning. “Take me as your plus one.” you finally said, pulling away to look MJ in the eyes.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please MJ.” you begged. “Let me have, let this be my closure.” you continued, your mouth seemingly working faster than your mind. “I won’t even talk to him or let him know that I’m there. Please, I just want to see that he’s happy.” you cried, voice breaking at the end.

At the end of the day, even if Peter had left you with a broken heart, you just wanted to know that everything worked out for him. Even if you couldn’t be the one to give it to him, Peter deserved his happily ever after. Silently, you pleaded with MJ, your eyes glassy and desperate as she mulled the thought over.

“Fine.” she yielded. “But then that’s it, you have to get back out there and live your life.” she compromised.

“Promise.” you agreed. “He won’t even know that I’m there.”

oOoOo

Weeks later, you found yourself outside a church watching as friends and families eagerly filed in. Your eyes watched as MJ continued inside to her seat up front. She had offered to sit in the back with you, but you urged her to be there to support Peter. Besides, she would find you after the whole ceremony was over and you could make your escape.

As you waited, your leg bounced, nerves continually rolling through your body. All you wanted was a glance of Peter before the ceremony. Looking both ways with determination, you snuck into the back rooms of the church, searching for where Peter would be waiting. Before you could find him, however, you heard voices coming your way, so you slipped into the nearest empty room, pressing yourself against the wall. Sucking in a breath, you willed yourself to become invisible. But what you heard had you slowly poking your head around the corner.

“What the hell?” a voice shrieked out. “Are you able to do this, or do I need to get someone else to do your job?”

Once glance and you saw the shouts came from Peter’s bride to be – Regina- who stood in front of a trembling bridesmaid, pointing fingers widely. The dress she wore looked as though it came straight out of a bakery, and you had to hold in your laugh. The bridal party walked by the room you were hidden in, and you pushed yourself further against the wall.

A breath of relief escaped your lips, but your heart clenched immediately after. Was this who Peter was marrying? Was this who was going to make him happy for the rest of his life?

Knowing you didn’t have much time left, you hurried into the church and slipped into a pew in the very last row. It wasn’t long before the officiant came out, shortly followed by Peter.

It was like time stopped the moment your eyes landed on his figure, His dark hair gelled back for the occasion, fiddling with his sleeves as he waited. You tried to gauge his emotion – was it a happy-nervous tick or a ‘dear god someone get me out of this’ nervous tick. Before you could think on it anymore, the organ music changed and the bridal procession began as the bridesmaids walked down the aisle before everyone stood as Regina walked out.

While all heads turned towards her, yours stayed on Peter the whole time, analyzing the way he reacted to his almost wife walking towards him. A smile graced his features, but even from far away you could tell the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Was all of this a joke? Was he settling? Looking for a way out?

Your mind raced with all these thoughts as officiant droned on. But something in your heart kept calling to you. Telling you that this wasn’t the way things were supposed to be. Telling you that you had to do something. Even if it was a mistake, you couldn’t live with the ‘what ifs’ that would plague your mind if you stayed quiet. And so, when the officiant called out “…speak out or forever hold your peace” you knew it was your moment.

As if possessed by some unknown force, you peeled yourself off the cold pew and stood among the sea of viewers. A collective gasp rang out through the church at your action, MJ being one of the first to look at you with a ‘are you kidding me’ look on her face. But, more importantly, you caught Peter’s gaze for the first time in months.

His jaw went slack as he stared at you. It had been months since Peter allowed himself to look at you. He had tried to shove everything that happened between you both into the furthest corners of his mind, but it seemed like fate had other plans.

“What is going on?” Regina demanded, recognition in her eyes as she started you down.

Sweaty palms rested against your thighs, and you knew this was your last chance. With a deep breath, you let it all pour out. “Look, Peter, I am not the type of person who should be interrupting a wedding of all events. But I also know you. And I know that you are not the type of guy who should be marrying the wrong girl.

“This is selfish of me, I’ll admit that. And if I am completelywrong then say the word and I will walk out of those doors with a smile on my face knowing that you’re happy. Because that’s all I want for you. But if there is even a small part of you that doesn’t want to go through with this marriage, then don’t.” you practically begged, not yet finished.

“You deserve all the happiness in the world, Peter. I know we had our challenges, but we were also something amazing together. So, please, don’t be noble Peter Parker always wanting to do the right thing. Do what you want to do.” you told him, fighting back the tears. “And, again, I know this was awful time, but I was told to speak now, right?” you asked through a watery giggle, staring down the man you loved as if your life depended on it.

There was a heavy silence that blanketed the church over the next few moments. With each second that passed, your heart grew heavier and heavier fearing you made a terrible mistake. Finally, you accepted defeat and began to walk out of the hall. You held yourself tightly, trying not to cry until you made it outside. However, before you could reach the doors, you felt a hand grasp your wrist, spinning you around.

You let out a breathy gasp as you stood face to face with Peter, his lips only inches from yours. It was as if time stood still in that moment, and you had to bite your lip to convince yourself it wasn’t all a dream. Any words you wanted to speak got stuck in your throat, but Peter leaned close to you, his warm breath against your ear caused you to shiver.

“I'll meet you when I'm out of my tux at the back door.” he whispered, nodding ever so slightly in confirmation.

Stumbling back, you left the church and found your way to the backdoor outside, waiting nervously. Nearly 10 minutes passed when the door floor opened, and Peter stood, his tie undone, and his tuxedo jacket abandoned. His hair looked mussed as though he had been anxiously running his fingers through just as you knew he had the habit of.

“Peter.” you breathed out, reaching towards him, nervous he might disappear.

“Did you mean it?” he questioned, grasping you against him tightly.

“What?”

“Did you mean everything you said in there? Are we going to make this work? Tell me I didn’t just walk out of my wedding for nothing.” he begged, also just as scared and vulnerable as you felt.

When words were lost on you, you instead closed the distance between the two of you until your lips met his for the first time in months. Though, it was like no time had passed as you and Peter fell into a familiar rhythm, saying all the apologies and confessions you couldn’t speak aloud. Yes, there was still a lot to work through, but you were together again and that’s all that mattered.

Thank god you were around when they said speak now.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #rita writes

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years

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Gm Lock! I was wondering if you're available to write this idea that has being going in my mind for quite a while. What do you think how to yan genshin men will react if their so asked them to 'eliminate' a person they hate? Like this person knew them before the yans did and they are put off by their presence. Will the men do it or not? Also thank you in advance and sorry if I disturbed you! I did not see any mention of you not taking requests at the moment so I asked you

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, mentions of murder/torture (all relating to a third party and not terribly explicit). Note: omg wait this is such an interesting thing to think about... i had fun brainstorming and writing for this 😌 i’ll organize it as the characters i think would be least inclined to follow through with this to those who would be like “sure give me a time and place”. under the cut due to the nature of the content !

Diluc

He’s somewhat disturbed by the suggestion, though it doesn’t show on his countenance. He’ll either ask for clarification if you were being vague about it or for you to repeat yourself if you were blunt. It just doesn’t match with the mental profile he’s built for you in his head — he’s supposed to be protecting you from the dark, unsafe outside world. Diluc ends up sitting you down and having a serious conversation about the weight of taking the life of another human being. If you point out his own moral shortcomings, he sighs and says that’s different, employing some of the best cognitive dissonance you’ve ever seen. He’d make for a good case study. What might change his staunch view of things is if you mention this goes past petty grievances, that this person really sought to do you harm. Then he might reconsider his stance. It’s likely that he’d frame them instead so they get a life sentence rather than bloodying his hands, though.

Xiao

Xiao probably doesn’t take you seriously at first. You must have a strange sense of humor, he chalks it up to it being that. When you insist on pursuing the topic, he somewhat takes you seriously. He doesn’t really get it? In his eyes, it’s not like they’re going to live long anyway, a human’s lifespan is a mere snapshot from his perspective. If it’s a person from Liyue, he’d outright refuse no matter how much you insist. He takes his contract with Yanwang Dijun very seriously and feels he’d be breaching it if he murdered a denizen of his Archon’s country unprovoked. That being said... if it’s someone who isn’t from Liyue, perhaps an argument can be made. Xiao would be initially hesitant and require some major convincing since taking the life of another brings back painful memories. He’d feel far less hesitant if you told him this person hurt you in some way. Unlike Diluc, he won’t fact-check this, and takes you at your word.

Kazuha

Kazuha hits you with a soft, “Come again?” because whew that was unexpected. He leads a relatively peaceful life with you and has excellent conflict resolution skills, so murder is always the last thing his mind arrives at for an issue. Since it’s you though, he’ll hear you out, silently nodding and encouraging you to continue while you explain your piece. If he senses strong conviction on your side, he’ll give it some serious thought. What he arrives at is that since this person offended you in some way, it isn’t technically unreasonable to challenge them to a duel to the death in your honor. Alright, he can work with that. Kazuha is sure to issue the challenge in a public setting so the recipient would feel pressured into accepting, lest they bring shame upon themselves. It’d be the buzz of town for sure. Kazuha’s swordsmanship would pretty much guarantee him victory — he wouldn’t draw it out or anything though. It’s swift and immediate. He hopes you’ll warm up to him now that he’s shown just how dedicated he is to you. (Yes, Kazuha dueled a man to the death on the off chance you might like him a little bit more).

Zhongli

Zhongli is a tricky case because it would depend on what stage he is at in his life. In his earlier years, he’d have no problem fulfilling your request and might take the tiniest pride in the act, since it’s a chance to display his unrivaled strength that won him a throne amongst the divine. They would feel the full display of his wrath, no matter how minor their transgression against you was. It’s an insult against him too by extension. In his more... laidback retirement, he likely wouldn’t be moved to such extremes. It would really depend on the context. He might give them a stern talking to, which, while not sounding so intimidating on the surface, is genuinely horrifying to the recipient. It’d be a literal god telling them to cut their shit out or else. That should do the trick. If they’re foolish enough not to heed this warning, the adepti would deal with them in a swift fashion. Zhongli wouldn’t take kindly to any threats on your person and neither would those who have been charged with keeping you safe.

Kaeya

You’ll be under the distinct impression that Kaeya finds your macabre request... cute? He’s smiling, even chuckling, treating it with good humor. He wants to hear your justification, but for a different reason than his brother. Kaeya doesn’t need to be convinced to overlook the icky details to go through with the act. He’s more interested in picking your brain and holding this against you at a later time. If you ever intend on accusing him of falling short in the moral department, he’ll bring this up with the same casual air one would use when discussing the weather. Kaeya doesn’t view it so much as an act of vengeance on your behalf, it’s more of a tool to use for future reference. He has the connections to not worry about being caught yet chooses not to tell you that. He’ll say that for him to take such a risk, you really need to plead your case. Then he might just be convinced to take action. So let’s hear your arguments in great detail.

Albedo

Albedo won’t give you much to work with outright. He excels at doing that thing where by responding to your words with prolonged silence, you feel compelled to give additional information so it’s less awkward. He tells you that he’ll make a note of it then doesn’t bring it up for weeks, if not months. You almost forgot about it by the time the conversation rears its head again. You’ll be doing whatever when he approaches you, calmly stating that “it’s finished”, foreboding as that sounds. He won’t give additional context unless prompted. Albedo says that you unfortunately won’t be able to see the body since it’s been dissolved, but that you have his word he fulfilled your request. He explains he’s always had this underlying fascination with the human body that cadavers could never fully satisfy. This study proved to be more fruitful due to that singular detail. If you want to hear more after this, that’s on you. Otherwise, he figures he should probably keep the specifics to himself.

Childe

This is the equivalent of achieving fourth base to Childe — killing by his lover’s request? How hot is that? That almost seals your relationship more than a wedding ring. He’d happily agree before you could get your second sentence out. Offers to go whatever route you want with it too! Do you want all remnants of them wiped from the planet? A public spectacle to humiliate them and their lineage? He’ll secure you the best seat if that’s the case. He makes you promise that if he does this for you, you’ll be extra nice and affectionate in return. Compromise is the key to long-lasting relationships, after all. There are a few who are off limits, however. Namely anyone high up in the Fatui chain of command. He could get away with offing some grunts, but anyone who holds actual weight in the organization would be far trickier. Pretty much everyone else is fair game though. He’ll bring you their head, absolutely radiating bloodlust and boasting a grin that splits his face in half.

Scaramouche

Scaramouche is similar to Childe where he has no moral qualms about the act, but to a stronger extent. Absolutely no one is off limits. He does have one condition: you have to come along and watch. There’s no practical reason for this, he just feels it’s an excellent way to show off his power. It’s likely he’ll barely move or exert effort to further prove this point. They’ll be dealt with in an instant, obliterated beyond recognition. The only chance there is for him to prolong the fight is if he learned they were an ex-lover or have sought your affection before. That would bring out a possessive and sadistic side of himself, he’d delight in their suffering and make side comments to you. Aren’t they just pathetic? Look at how they squirm and convulse! A mere worm would have more dignity. After the act is finished, he expects a prolific show of gratitude, regardless of whether or not he’s covered in blood. Show him how grateful you are for the lengths he’d go to for you.

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rosedominatesyou · 8 months

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Bedtime Stories w/ Rose

ੈ✩‧˚ In The Clouds ‧˚ੈ✩

(Bedtime Story #4)

Hello again my little pups. Mommy is here with another tale to help ease you to sleep. It isn’t as exciting as the last ones but maybe that’ll help make your eyes heavy anyway. Keep this in your likes until you’re cozy and ready for bed. 💗

Before reading: Although I wish I could tell you all the names of the beautiful places I went to in this story, I’ve withheld certain details out of respect for my own privacy.

Everyone in my life knows how much I love birds. That’s sorta my main personality trait. Their imagery is everywhere, and you’ll start to understand why when you look a little deeper. Here’s what’s been captivating my thoughts lately, besides all of you. I hope you enjoy.

~'*•.¸♡¸.•*'.・。゜✭・.・✫・。.'*•.¸♡¸.•*'~

Please make a queue of the following 2 songs: “Fill Into Me” by Anju, and “Slow Dancing - Hazel Remix” by Aly & Aj.

Both therapists I’ve ever had at some point said to me, “It sounds like you know what all your problems are.”

As the person experiencing them/inflicting them upon myself, yeah, I knew exactly what was happening to me, but isn’t the point of sharing your feelings and negative actions with someone else supposed to make you want to be a better person? To let you hear those things out loud so that you’d want to change?

I didn’t think I was going to, and after talking to professional help, even they seemed conflicted if maybe I was just making it all up for the drama. Maybe I really was the cause of my own misery.

I was tired of it all, even if at the time I couldn’t stop myself. There was a person in my life that I’m not ready to talk about that really fucked me over and changed the way I think. It was 2020, and with everything going on in the world, all I wanted was to hang on to a friend. They left. And they were the only friend I had.

It was late into the evening at my current job, but back then I used to work nights. I was walking through the part of the warehouse that has all of our truck receiving docks when I heard a familiar sound, the little chirps of baby birds.

They had built the nest years ago inside one of the truck docks, and year after year they came back and rebuild it in the same spot. If you roll up the doors to let a truck driver in, the birds would get scared and fly deep into the warehouse, typically not finding their way out.

I stood there, alone late one night, staring up at the little nest that was caked to the side of the cement wall. I have no idea what kind of bird that is, I remember thinking to myself. I knew what a dove was, they used to nest every year at my childhood home, but these little birds were something totally different. I realized at that moment that I didn’t know jack-shit about birds, and they are everywhere. It sorta hit me harder than I thought it was going to.

If you can’t tell by my lead-up to this story, I was looking for something to captivate my thoughts - something to make me stop thinking about that friend that left me hurt and used.

Asking myself about the little birds that evening made me go to a book store on my next day off and buy a pocket field guide to the birds in my area. I read the whole thing cover to cover. I hadn’t absorbed a book like that in a long time. So many amazing variations with such unique range maps, plumage, and living habits.

If you were curious (and my hint about the description of their nest didn’t give it away), the birds that I see at my work are Barn Swallows.

I was hooked. I purchased some more detailed field guides and started joining groups online that were into birdwatching. “Birders” as they call themselves, people in my own town were posting the most beautiful pictures I’d ever seen, with captions that described the exact species down to the Latin name and seasonal variety.

I wasn’t even planning on going out the day that I did. I wanted to try to take some pictures like I had been seeing in my group. I had a camera, but nothing like what some of the people were sporting. I also had no clue where to go; sure you can just go walk around anywhere, but where was I likely to see the most? Basically at random with no input from my group, I picked a local reservoir to drive out to.

I was shaking as I got out of the car at the first ever ‘birding’ location i’d go to, feeling nauseous as I set up my camera. “This is stupid this is stupid you look like a creep this is so stupid,” I couldn’t help repeating to myself out loud as I began down the first walking path I saw.

My own words work, making me turn around suddenly and go back to the car. There’s barely anyone around but the 2 or 3 people who glance across to me is too much to bear. My hands could hardly put the lens cap back on because of how much I was trembling.

You drove all the way here, I try to encourage myself as I conceal my body behind the open trunk, other people do it. Just go walk around.

I stop putting everything away and just stand there for a second, breathing and feeling.

You wanted this.

I get my dslr back out, the lens attached to it being the biggest one I owned: 200mm. I had gotten it as a present many years ago, and loved taking pictures around my house, but had never taken my camera with me out in public. Something about walking around with it in my hands made me feel so out of place, but I tried to just push past that and start walking again.

Unknown to me back then, the location and time of year I picked were both rather dismal. The lake was desolate of animal life. If there aren’t any fish, rodents, or trees to perch on, birds won’t be attracted. It was also summer, and though that may seem like a good time of year for a person, the best time to witness a large variety of birds is during their two migrations each year: spring and fall. Most birds, besides natives that stay year round, have already settled into their northern territories for the Summer. I live in California, and while we are blessed with an insane number of species, we are also basically just a giant highway for birds traveling between their summer territories in Canada/Alaska, and their wintering nesting sites in Mexico/South America.

When I got home from my first outing and took a look at my pictures, I was very disappointed. Most were too dark, too far away, or way too blurry to make anything out. The only birds I managed a decent photo of were a Western Bluebird pair, but even then I was not happy with what I had taken. I was being too hard on myself, expecting a lot out of a person who was just starting out something new.

Two days later I went to a local camera store and bought a 300mm lens. Not a huge difference, but my confidence became more noticeable in the shots I took the next few outings.

The songs I had you add to a queue are just a couple that I would listen to when out birding. Calming, peaceful songs, i naturally always hear birds chirping and grasses swaying in the wind overlapping with the music while I listen now.

The feeling of discovering birds was overwhelming. I’d see something new and my heart would race so fast. It felt like falling in love. My feet would start to run without looking down as my eyes remained glued on the bird in my vision.

One time my partner Jamie and I were out at a wildlife reserve when we saw what we thought was a Golden Eagle. The massive raptor was dark overall and was calling loudly as it soared above us. We ran down the winding paths, loosing sight of it and only being able to follow the bird by the shrill call it made overhead.

Finally we found it again, perched on a tree that hung sideways over a cliff. The sun was shinning right on its face and I started snapping away, taking shot after shot of the magnificent bird. It didn’t like how long we were watching it, and took off while I continued to take pictures.

Ecstatic with what we had seen, I quickly uploaded the photos to the group I’m in asking if I was correct with what I thought.

Many people chimed in right away to let me know that, even though they were great pictures, the bird in the photos was actually just a Red-Tailed Hawk.

RTH’s, as their name is abbreviated, are the most abundant hawks in North America, and are also the most easily mistaken for another raptor. The specific bird I had seen was a large, dark-morph female, meaning her plumage was a much darker brown than most buteo’s.

The thrill of going out birding was something my heart craved so heavily the more and more I did it. I’d get so excited to come home and look through my pictures, trying to see if I caught any new species and if I could figure out what its name was. It felt a lot like Pokémon and filling up my Pokédex. ☺️

The field guides weren’t enough, I wanted to know more. I now had a better understanding of the seasons, and knew I had to wait out the summer until I’d see the next migration. I bought two books off of Amazon: a cute little yellow book called “Birdpedia” that has hundreds of quick facts about all things avian lore, and a novel/memoir called “H is for Hawk” by Helen Macdonald.

Helen’s book would launch me into a reading craze like I’ve never felt before, buying bird book after bird book, reading them within a few weeks and moving on to another. I had never been one to read very much (not unless you count manga), so to feel myself still craving more words was a very new feeling. Here’s a list of a few more books I’d recommend if you’re interested, they’re my favorites:

‘Bird Brother’ by Rodney Stotts. Very relatable slice of life from a person who never thought he’d write a book, or own raptors.

‘The Falcon Thief’ by Joshua Hammer. True crime novel meets bird study in this gripping story about a detective who’s after a man wanted for stealing endangered eggs.

‘Red-Tails in Love’ by Marie Winn. You gotta really like birds and reading to get through this one; a woman’s true account of her observations in New York’s Central Park, along with the other birders who accompany her.

Including all of my field guides (mostly local but I have one about Japan!), I’ve read 16 books that have something to do with falconry. My brain is truly stuffed with bird lore. Upon making the poll about this bedtime story, two of you asked me to tell you a bird fact. 🤭 Here’s what I told them, my go-to bird fact:

All avian species had many goals during their evolutionary periods, but nothing like their need to be more aerodynamic. Their quest to be lighter led them to lose a few organs over time that mammals couldn’t imagine living without, including the bladder! That is why it seems like birds poop completely at random, it is truly because they have no way to hold it.

Second special fun fact, people always ask me, “What’s your favorite kind of bird?!” and that’s a hard one because I love all of them so much, but I like to say it’s the Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher since I can almost perfectly mimic their mating call. 😋

Over several months, I added more equipment to my build. I got a Sigma AF 600mm lens, as well as a teleconverter, a small attachment that goes between the camera and the lens to double the distance of whatever you’re shooting. Now I was able shoot 1200mm! I could see the blood on the beak of a hawk from half a mile away.

Birding trips would take me and Jamie all across California, going to every state park and wildlife reserve we could to see what kinds of birds were there. We’d bring picnic lunches and listen to music before starting our hikes. Eventually I bought a second Nikon off of some lady that I met up with in a Five Bellow parking lot, wanting to have a second camera for landscape shots.

I still love going out and taking pictures, though the newbie excitement I used to feel has since died down. The joy of closing your eyes and taking a deep breath of fresh air as you listen to all the birds around you is a peace I would want anyone to feel. It’s my favorite way to exist.

I know this one was a bit of a boring read this time, so as a reward for getting through it, here’s some of the pictures that I’m most proud of 🥰 Please note, they all have been cropped to remove my artist’s signature:

The photo of the Western Bluebird pair from my first ever outing.

2. Red-winged Blackbird. Proof that the 200mm lens can absolutely get you a good shot if the subject is close enough. This guy landed on a branch less than 10 feet away from me.

3. Cedar Waxwings. If you’re familiar with these regal-looking birds, then you can probably hear how loud this photo is 🤭

4. White-faced Ibis. One of the first shots I had taken with my 300mm lens.

5. Red-shouldered Hawk. A sub-species of the RTH, this RSH is seen covered in dew on a cold, early January morning. 600mm.

6. And finally, my favorite picture that I’ve ever taken, this is a first summer Pygmy Nuthatch, seen here with a beak full of grubs that it was bringing back to it’s siblings in the nest. 1200mm.

That’s the end of our story. Thank you so much for reading ❤️ Please let Momma about what you think of the story and the pictures. 🤭

Sweet dreams 💋 xoxo

~'*•.¸♡¸.•*'.・。゜✭・.・✫・。.'*•.¸♡¸.•*'~

#rosebtstory #enjoy my puppies 💋

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