#anyway this fic had a chokehold on me so i needed to make this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fleurriee · 7 months

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— the best way to learn ; aemond targaryen

pairing ; aemond targaryen x wife!reader

synopsis ; for a second there, you thought you’d lost your daughter. you should’ve known she’d be with her father, doing what they do best - causing mayhem in the privacy of your chambers.

word count ; 3.3k

themes ; fluff, established relationship (married)

warnings ; none. maybe slightly ooc aemond???

author’s note ; first time writing for aemond,,,, what do we think??? this man has a chokehold on me ever since that first episode we saw him in & i’ve finally given in and done something about it asdfghjkl also i can’t make alicent a villain, especially when she’s olivia cooke, im sorry.

masterlist request a fic!

You couldn’t find your daughter.

The last time you saw her had been early in the morning, sending her over to her nursemaids as they took over. She’d be spending majority of the day there, catching up on her reading and slowly beginning to learn more equity. You didn’t like it when the day turned out in such a way, because she was your daughter, and it was technically your job to teach her such things, but when yourself and Aemond became busy at the same times, you had no other choice.

This morning, you were called by Queen Alicent, your mother-in-law, requesting that you spend the majority of the day with her, sharing between both the council room, but also her chambers. She’d asked that you come in on some of the council sessions that would be taking place during the day, aiding her in the errands of the kingdom she was suddenly having to take care of due to the King’s declining health.

(Although, she had also mentioned that she also wished to spend some time with you regardless, seeing as it had been a little too long for her liking. The two of you had gotten along pretty much from the moment you met, with her relishing in the perfect match between yourself and Aemond. Ever since then, you’ve been like another daughter to her.)

You were constantly feeling honoured and a little proud of yourself whenever Queen Alicent would ask specifically for your presence during these meetings - after all, you were only her second son’s wife, with barely any authority placed upon your shoulders when it came to making final decisions like this.

When you’d first told her of your worries of others opinions on your presence there, she’d instantly shut them down. Queen Alicent head adamantly stated that she valued your opinion, not only as a member of her family, but as a woman. She knew you’d go with the options that would be best for the kingdom entirely.

No one had ever said anything to you, despite the lingering glances they’d continue to give you throughout each meeting. You had an idea that the reason nothing had happened was both on the Queen’s orders, and for the fear of your husband’s wrath should you mention just a slither of an occurrence to him.

The reason why Aemond was unable to properly look after your daughter was due to the training he had with Sir Criston Cole in the yard. It was an errand he didn’t enjoy - in fact, every time he knew he had it forthcoming and afterwards on his return, he would grumble and groan about participating in it.

When it came to Aemond, he much preferred staying in with his family, reading some other tome he’d found in the archives of the family library that spoke of extravagant histories. Aemond Targaryen had never been into tourneys and training like that, but, he knew, as was his duty as the second son of the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, he needed to learn to protect those close to his heart - his two girls at the top of that list.

So, despite wishing he was anywhere else rather than in that particular yard, as onlookers watched on with beady eyes, he keep himself there. The practice would allow him to feel confident in himself that he could protect his wife and daughter. Not that he would never not try, anyway, but the reassurances were nice.

The bonus was that he was good at it, meaning those of the guard would command that he help protect the rest of the kingdom, alongside them. No one was about to pass up a good warrior like Aemond Targaryen, even if he did grumble and glare at them.

Therefore, due to the both of you being busy with duties neither of you were particularly happy to be doing, you had trusted your only daughter in the care of her nursemaids. Before you’d left her, you promised her that her mother and father would call for her later, at a more suitable time where the three of you could be together as a proper family in the safe confines of your chambers.

It was difficult to really show off the love you had for one another in the way you admired, majority of the time. You couldn’t really do so when roaming the halls of the castle, or when walking some of the better streets of the kingdom.

As royals, it was customary for you to keep straight faces, to smile politely in a nice way, and to only ever speak when you were spoken to, more so than ever seeing as you were a woman. To you, as a princess, the wife to the second son of King Viserys, it was of paramount importance that you taught your own daughter the same thing you were taught, too - to be a lady when seen in public, to be prim and proper, but when safely wrapped in the warm embrace of those your trusted wholeheartedly, be whoever you wanted to be.

Even from a young age, yourself and Aemond did your absolute best to teach her that, knowing it was to be a fundamental part of her personality if she were to survive in this part of the world she was chosen to grow up in. Thankfully (as you’d always say), your daughter had taken after her father immensely in every way, and not just in her appearance, with her violet eyes and silver mane - no, she was also fierce, wishing to one day be wearing a similar armour to her father and wield a sword that represented his.

This dream of hers wouldn’t disappear, no matter how many times you heard others try and quell it. It wouldn’t, though, not when you, Aemond and Queen Alicent herself allowed her to dream whatever she wanted, promising her that one day, they would all come true. And, if it was up to the three of you, you’d make sure it did. Aemond had told her it would, too, many times, but reminding her that, for now, the two of them would have to pretend it was the same when fighting with wooden swords in your private chambers.

And, that’s exactly where you were headed now.

After bidding a swift goodbye to your good mother, promising her that you would make sure to see her again before the day was over (to which she replied, preferably with my son and granddaughter, with a chuckle), you’d gone back to where you’d left your daughter with her nursemaids early that morning. But, upon entering, you noticed she hadn’t been there - no one had.

Despite believing that surely she’d be safe if she was in the company of her nursemaids, knowing they’d protect her with their lives as they had vowed, for just a split second, you could feel your heart dropping to the very bottom of your stomach, feeling as though you were going to throw it up out of nerves. But, you told yourself that everything was fine, willing yourself to calm down, and repeatedly telling yourself that you simply hadn’t checked enough rooms to be completely worried yet.

However, it only spiked up more than ever when you’d gone down to the yard to speak to your husband, wanting to see if maybe he had seen her. Only when you came up short, everything felt worse. Not even Sir Criston was there, meaning you couldn’t question him about anything, even if you’d wanted to.

There was a part of your mind that was desperate to think logically, to think rationally - maybe Aemond had left to see her. Yeah, you’re sure that was it. Still, that one part of your mind wouldn’t stop nagging at you with dangerous, pessimistic thoughts.

Palms sweating and eyes flickering madly from one corner to the other, and then only repeating the same process, desperation is clear in your actions as you tried your damn hardest to keep a levelled composure. You knew it wouldn’t do well for anyone else dwelling in the confines of the kingdom’s walls to see you acting so wildly and brash, not when they were so used to you being the rational one that calms your husband down during his own heightened tempers. There would be no use in causing a mayhem if there was nothing to worry about, which is what you continued to tell yourself, hoping that the more you thought it, the more likely it would be on the other end.

It wasn’t like you could help these particular feelings, either - you were a mother after all, and you were always going to worry. No matter the circumstances, no matter the place, no matter the people… you would always have these lingering doubts that something was wrong with your baby if she was ever not in your’s or your husband’s arms.

That’s why your steps stayed hurried and frantic, and your breaths started to become slightly laboured as you rushed to your shared bedchambers, forcing the doors open and hoping above all hopes - to both the Old Gods and the New - that something would be inside that would give you the answers to calm your racing heart.

And, the sight that greeted you, face-to-face, the moment those doors opened, managed to fill your heart with the upmost of love.

There, standing on your bed, feet bouncing her up, down and around as she yelled out with her squealed, tiny giggles, was your daughter. Her hair was an absolute mess, no longer styled in the plaits you’d given her that morning; strands of silver falling into her face from the length of it - again, wanting to take after her father. It wasn’t bothering her, though, not when there was an elated smile plastered right upon her lips as she attempted to push her father further away from her, hands pulled out in front of her like she was warning him off.

Said husband of yours was continuing to stand at the end of your bed, a teasing, expectant expression on his face, like he was awaiting something. Aemond was slightly hunched over, preparing for the next opening when he could pounce upon your daughter and attack with all the love he had on offer.

As all this was happening, you stayed silent, watching on as the two of them breathed heavily. That was a sure sign that this had possibly been happening for a short while now - as it always would, when she was playing with her father.

“Kepa (father),” she paused, taking another deep breath, the flush of her cheeks apparent as another small giggle escaped from her lips. “Kepa (father), I don’t know!”

Walking ever so slightly closer to her, Aemond tsked, shaking his head. Still, the reading grin never left his features. “Yes, you do, ñuha byke zaldrīzes (my little dragon)…”

My little dragon. You absolutely adored it when he called her that, making you feel proud and domesticated with the two of them, with your little family. And, she was his little dragon, in every aspect - looks, personally, heritage. It would only be a matter of time before she possessed her only companion, and you couldn’t wait to be there with her for that achievement.

However, too caught up in the haze of the love you held so dearly for them, you hadn’t realised your daughter spotted you, her eyes sneakily looking for a way of escape and heart jumping for joy when she spotted you lingering. “Muña (mother)!” her yell pierced through the walls of the chambers, clambering herself off the bed as quick as possible (trying to avoid her father’s arms reaching for her), and wrapping her tiny self around one of your legs, safe beneath your dress and hiding herself behind the material.

Watching her, and noticing what had caught her eye, accompanied by her correct High Valyrian, your lord husband spotted you, as well. His once teasing, mischievous expression instantly turned softer at the sigh of his lady wife, stepping a little closer to the two of you. “My lady wife, I did not expect to see you until later in the day.”

You chuckled, smiling back at him lovingly before reaching a hand out to stroke the top of your daughter’s head, both a motherly gesture and an attempt to brush some of the silver strands back from her flushed face. “As did I,” you replied, “but when I went to check in on Visenya only to find her not there… I panicked.”

With a sympathetic smile, Aemond looked lovingly down at you, at the worry that was still slightly hidden behind your tone of his at your admittance. He reached over until his hand was clasping behind your neck, bringing you forwards and all the more closer to him so he could place a delicate kiss against your forehead. The whole gesture was so loving and tender, so much different in comparison to how he usually portrayed himself anywhere else that wasn’t in your chambers with his little family.

“Kepa came to get me,” your daughter explained, not realising that she was beginning to rat her father out. Her chin was propped up against your leg, looking up at you with such innocent eyes - violet, like her father. “He told me it was time to learn more High Valyrian.”

At her words, you focused your attention back on your husband, cocking a brow at him as your smile slowly faded just a smidge. No one would’ve noticed it, but, Aemond wasn’t no one - he knew you better than he knew himself. He sighed, “I know I should’ve told you, but, I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“You know I always check up on her, Aemond,” you spoke, voice quiet and just a tiny bit exasperated as you reprimanded your husband. You should’ve known Visenya would’ve been with her father all along, for reasons exactly as this one. But, the worry of a mother would always eat away at you until your daughter was back in your own grasp. That’s just how it was - you couldn’t help yourself.

As a second longer passed and the silence stilled within the room, the small slither of annoyance you previously felt dissipated at the apologetic, longing look he was sending you. You always gave in easily when it came to Aemond Targaryen, no matter the face he was pulling at you - he was just that handsome. You could feel a small shift down by your leg, spotting your daughter continuously looking from yourself, then over to her father, trying to fully understand the situation playing out in front of her, and you couldn’t help but feel refreshed again, like you hadn’t had any worries to begin with. “And,” you began, smiling wide down at her, Aemond instantly knowing your next moves just from one look at you, “you know I always like to join in when you learn High Valyrian.”

The moment the last word fell from your lips, you bent down with quick movements, picking her up within your arms and holding her tightly against you before she could even think about trying to run away. She squealed in utter excitement, laughing and giggling all the same, feet kicking upon your sides as she desperately tried to leave your embrace.

“Now,” you began, tilting your head down at her, before looking back up to your husband, “what were you teaching her?”

Aemond began to stand a little further back, already sensing that you were going to join in on what he had been doing to your daughter earlier, and sensing that more chaos was about to be brought forwards, giving you a little more room. After all, this was how the two of you always taught your little Visenya High Valyrian, because, at the end of the day, it worked out in the end, helping her remember her words. Plus, she secretly loved it, too, but, she’d never tell either of you that.

“I was teaching her to say one day, I am going to ride the biggest dragon in the world.” A prideful smile lingered upon his lips after he’d finished, looking at his daughter fondly. There was a look in his eyes that told the two of you he’d make sure it ended up true - he’d make sure the two of you always got what you deserved, and more. That was his role as husband and father, and he would continue to do so until the Stranger forced him to go.

You gasped mockingly, looking back down at your little girl, pretend disbelief marring your features. Visenya had stopped in her attempts to escape since, now looking up at you with her doe eyes, a small, subtle smile on her lips, waiting. “You know how to say that, my sweet girl,” you cooed sweetly, “kepa (father) taught you not too long ago.”

The memory came back to you instantly, of Aemond speaking about how excited he was of your daughter claiming her own dragon egg to you. It was something that had been on his mind practically since the day you found out you were expecting, and ever since then, he’d gone on about it. So, of course, he was going to teach your daughter how to boldly proclaim such a thing. It was all he wanted to hear from her.

Visenya’s face scrunched up when you’d reminded her she’d been taught it not too long ago, raising her hands in the air like the little drama queen she is. “I know, but I can’t remember!”

“Well,” you began, pointedly, in a sweet tone that had a lingering tease within it, one that came accompanied with a look that instantly told your husband that the usual was about to happen. “You know what happens when you can’t remember…” you gave a pause for more effect, sneakily looking down upon her before the biggest smile broke out upon your features, instantly digging your fingers into her sides as you began tickling her. Even more giggles than before erupted throughout your bedchambers, mixed in with both pleads and begs for you to stop, but, you wouldn’t. It was obvious she was having a fun time just from the sounds she was emitting.

Continuing on with your playful attack, you moved the two of you over in the direction of your bed, lying her down on her back as her little legs kicked in the air, trying to feign you off. Aemond came up beside you, looking down upon his family with loving eyes, laughing at your daughter’s demise, her peals of delight capturing his heart and squeezing it tight.

There was nothing he simply loved more than being trapped within his chambers - something he enjoyed before he’d met you, anyway, preferring his own company rather than having to pretend around others - but, that had only intensified when his two girls came tottering along, looking for someone to cling onto and protect them, something he’d always do even in his sleep.

Nowadays, he never truly complained or minded as much when he had to go about his duties and pretend to be someone he wasn’t really, putting on a front just to please some overweight lords who wanted to get in his family’s good books - not when it meant he had something special waiting for him towards the end of the day when he returned home.

Aemond Targaryen had the two of you under his dragon wings, arms wrapped firmly around him and not letting go any time soon, and he couldn’t ask for anything more… not when, already, he’d felt like he’d accomplished everything within his life.

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎#hotd #house of the dragon #aemond #Aemond targaryen #Aemond fluff #Aemond smut #aemond x reader #Aemond targaryen fluff #Aemond targaryen smut #Aemond targaryen x reader #dad aemond #aemond x pregnant reader

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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Howdy, so I don't know if you have seen The Last of Us, but if you have, you know the scene where Joel saves Ellie from the hospital and he just ploughs through everyone and its like wow -///-

I just think it would be a really cool like drabble if this was a Din x reader fic? Only if you wanted to write it though!! Also I'm so happy that I'm on your taglist for inevitable because I jump to read it every time that I see that I've been tagged, it has me in a chokehold and the way that you write the reader is so damn good.

Your writing is something that brings comfort to me every week, and the way you interact and talk to your followers is so sweet. I love coming back from a stressful day to sit down somewhere comfortable to enjoy your work.

Anyways thanks for reading this ramble of an ask and I hope that you're doing well :)

[a/n]: combining some stuff here! this is for the anon who asked for this scene AND for @cockscombkingdom who asked for a fic in Din's POV where he takes care of reader and keeps her safe. I started with the plan to make this very sweet and fluffy and I'm not gonna lie a little darkness seeped into it. my bad.

also in case it isn't abundantly clear i am a joel miller apologist thx

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, injuries, mild dark!din (if you squint and/or have a problem with murder)

Word Count: 1,440

Summary: You were selfless. You gave and you gave and you gave. The universe planned to only take more, but Din Djarin would be damned if he let it.

LOOK FOR THE LIGHT

"you'd just come after her." -Joel Miller (TLOU)

Din was worried about you. He was always worried about you because you were always on his mind. It couldn’t be helped. Somebody had to because it seemed like you were perpetually too worried about everyone else. Din admired that about you. He always had. You went out of your way to help anyone and everyone who approached. You had a heart that was always willing to give, and it left you too little to use for yourself.

When the two of you first began traveling together, he noticed that about you. Sometimes you’d get so preoccupied watching Grogu you’d forget to eat. Peli had once put you to work, organizing her tools as part of the payment to fix the Razor Crest, and you had been so focused on getting the work done well that you had taken no breaks and ended up dehydrated and weak under Tatooine’s hot suns. It’s why the mission he was delivering you to made such simple sense to him. You were special, is what you told him. Din knew you were special, felt it, but it was for very different reasons. According to you, there was something in your blood, some type of cell, that could cure a lot of people of some terrible, terrible disease spreading through a world in the Outer Rim.

Din tried to keep his distance from you. Tried to not get attached. But you were so selfless, that it naturally brought out his protective side. He couldn't help but care for you, but caring for you as a responsibility had quickly turned to loving you along the way. Din didn’t know a lot about love. Didn’t have much experience with it, lust was easier to grasp, and that left him confused most of the time. Din had no idea how to express what he felt for you, how to explain it in words, so he did the only thing he could do. Din took care of you. Kept you safe when he stopped to pick up quarries, made sure you remembered to eat and drink water, reminded you to go to bed and when you would eventually forget anyways he’d carry you there himself. Din didn't know what love was supposed to feel like, but what he did know was that being without you made his heart physically ache and protecting you brought him happiness.

Maybe that’s all he needed to know.

‘It’ll be okay.’ You had promised him with a smile that made your features glow. ‘Shouldn’t take long.’

That had been hours ago. Din delivered you to the medical facility as he had been hired, but when you hadn’t come back out he sought after you. It’s why he now sat in a small room, Imperials flanking the door, as he simmered in disdain. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

“Mandalorian.” A man stepped into the room. A doctor from the looks of it with thin, round rimmed glasses. The name ‘Pershing’ pinned to his lapel. Din stayed silent. “I was under the impression that you had been paid. Was there an issue?”

“No.” Din replied. “Where is she?”

Dr. Pershing paused and shook his head as if confused. Din tilted his head a bit, an obvious threat in body language, and the doctor was smart enough to realize this. He nervously cleared his throat. “She is being prepared for her operation.” Din narrowed his eyes in confusion. You told him they’d just need your blood. “There is no reason for you to stay.”

“I promised her a ride back.”

There was a tense silence that filled the room at his words. Din watched the doctor squirm where he stood and he needed no further clarification. He shoved up from the table, prepared for a fight, when the Imperials leveled their own weapons at him before he could reach his blaster.

Dr. Pershing held his hands up in a placating manner. “She will be a hero. After we drain her of all her blood, we can make a cure. There’s a 65% chance this will work and save the people of this world.” Din was fuming under his armor. Drain your blood? They were going to kill you. They were going to kill you for something that only had a 65% chance of even working. “She will not be in pain! She’s been put under! She will not feel a thing, and we did not scare her with the news.” Din staggered back as if he had been physically hit. Was this man saying… Dr. Pershing confirmed Din’s thoughts. “We did not tell her this would kill her. We spared her that misery. She went under anesthesia peacefully.”

The words echoed in Din’s head loudly. As if a bomb had gone off right beside him and left him deaf and blind. He walked on autopilot as the Imperials escorted him through the building toward the exit. They were going to kill you. They were going to kill you for a shot in the dark cure. Din was literally paces to the door when his boots stilled. The Imperials shoved him, tried to get him to move, threatened to shoot him, and then Din snapped.

With the practiced precision of a bounty hunter and Mandalorian who spent most of his life in a fight, Din spun and cut down the Imperials in one swift movement. The darksaber glowed angry in his hands, casting threatening shadows down the hall. Never before had the sword worked so well for him, but as Din marched through the facility it was practically an extension of himself. Blaster fire pinged off his beskar and he did not hesitate. If a person stepped into his path he eliminated them. Cold. Ruthless. A predator. Din stalked the medical facility searching for you, and he left a wake of death and destruction in his path.

When he finally caught sight of you, through a window into some kind of clean room. Din felt his heart flutter in his chest. The first twinge of emotion since starting this rampage. It was a reminder of why he was doing this. A reminder that his actions were necessary.

Din stormed into the room, his eyes not leaving your unconscious form as you laid on a table in a hospital gown. The staff in the room panicked in a flurry, and one of them⏤ maybe the doctor maybe a nurse, Din didn’t even register who the kriff it was⏤ rushed him in a poor attempt to stop this onslaught. Din cut them down without blinking. Without taking his eyes off of you. The second you were in his arms, Din felt marginally settled. He wasn’t going to lose you, couldn’t lose you. Din had sworn to himself that he’d take care of you, it was all he knew how to do, and he wasn’t going to stop for the sake of anyone.

Not even the sake of a world.

As Din carried you out of the building it occurred to him that he may be dooming an entire population of people. This world’s chances of survival were dropping from 65% to 0%. He knew that he should care. He knew that this information should bother him. That it should make his steps more hesitant and make his chest ache in indecision, but it didn’t. His choice had never been more clear to him. It was either this world or you. Din was choosing you. He’d always choose you.

When back on the ship, Din had only carried you a few steps when gasping could be heard. He turned around to see Dr. Pershing at the end of the ramp holding a blaster at him. The man was breathing hard, face red, as if he had sprinted all the way here to stop this from happening. Din had to admire his dedication. The man believed in this cause so much he was willing to go head to head with a Mandalorian who had just single handedly cleared out a medical facility.

“I can’t let you do this.” Dr. Pershing snapped. “You’re dooming this world if you take her!”

A blaster fired. Dr. Pershing stumbled back, a hole in his chest, and Din held his blaster firm in his hand. Your legs draped over that arm had hidden his weapon well. A strangled gasp left the man’s lips and he collapsed into a motionless pile. Din shook his head, responding to a dead man’s words, “I don’t care.”

Din would protect you under any and all circumstances.

Was that love?

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #dark!din djarin #sort of #if you squint #the last of us #joel miller inspired #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #female reader #reader insert

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peachy-posy · 8 months

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Stargazing (Vash the Stampede x Reader)

Summary: An encounter with a bounty hunter leaves you feeling uneasy.

A/N: Vash has me in a chokehold, all I can do is write fics. Pls send help. Anyway, I am once again combining elements of both 98 Vash and Stampede Vash because best of both worlds and all that <3 Posted here on AO3

Warnings: Non-graphic violence, strong yearning (pre-relationship ofc), idiots in love

Word Count: 2.5k

Today was too close.

Rapidly cooling water drips down your sore arms as you hug your knees to your chest in the bath. The only sound in the bathroom of the quiet inn is the occasional drip of the faucet leaking into the cloudy bathwater. You close your eyes, resting your forehead on the tops of your knees.

A bounty hunter had caught you both by surprise. The pair of you were nearing the next town in your travels, laughing and chatting with each other like always. You had been admiring him; how the sunlight made his hair shine like gold, how his brilliant blue eyes would sometimes peek over his sunglasses if they slipped too far down his nose when he laughed.

Then, there was a gunshot.

It was all so fast. The rapid shifting of his expression made you feel like someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over your head. He shoved you, and then you were on the sand, looking up at him as a bullet tore the side of his shoulder.

You were frozen, the shock of it gluing you to the ground. He was virtually unphased, drawing his gun with a focused expression and frightening efficiency. He fired a single shot, and you registered someone grunting in surprise. Vash taking off in that direction was what shook you out of your stupor - you scrambled clumsily to your feet, drawing your revolver and following him.

The rest of it was a weird blur in your memory. The fight ended the way all of the other ones do. But for some reason, this one was so different. You couldn’t get the image of Vash being struck by the bullet out of your mind, even now.

The bullet that was supposed to hit you.

Luckily, it was just a graze. He didn’t even really need much first aid. But while he laughed and shrugged it off, you trembled the whole way into town.

You open your eyes once more, blinking a few times to focus your vision. The cloudy water ripples gently around you, and you realize that you are shaking. The water has grown quite cold, and you take that as a sign that it’s time to get out.

After pulling the drain, you lift yourself out of the old tub, carefully maneuvering over the ledge. You make quick work of toweling yourself dry, wanting to escape the chill of the water. Goosebumps raise on your skin regardless.

You change into the set of clothes you brought into the bathroom with you, running a brush through your hair carelessly. You didn’t have it in you tonight to care all that much about your hair of all things.

After finishing up, you reach for the doorknob, but find yourself hesitating just before reaching it. The idea of sitting in the room with Vash made you feel nauseous.

What a great friend you are.

You feel sick with guilt over that stupid graze on his shoulder. Logically, you know that it’s not your fault and he doesn’t blame you. You know that you would have shoved him out of the way if your positions were reversed. You know that both of you have had much, much worse injuries from various encounters with enemies. So, why are you feeling so weird?

You swallow thickly. Suck it up. Stop being weird and go sit with him. Talk like you always do.

Inhaling deeply and finding your resolve, you square your shoulders and open the door. He’s sitting on one of the two beds in the room, cleaning his gun meticulously. Locks of his golden hair fall in his face, and he shakes his head to the side to move it out of the way. You find yourself smiling fondly at his focused expression, his bright eyes flicking up at you for a moment before returning to his task. He smiles softly, hands working all the while.

“Hey,” he calls softly.

His focused expression, while endearing, reminds you of how he looked earlier today. You feel your resolve crumble, and that constricting feeling squeezes your chest once more.

“Hey,” you manage weakly, walking over to your old, worn boots sitting by the door. You sit down, lacing them up.

Coward.

Out of your peripheral vision, you see him look up at you, more intently this time. He says nothing for a moment, likely seeing if you plan on explaining where you’re going.

“Everything okay?” He finally asks, the silence stretching on long enough apparently.

You tighten the laces with a firm tug and sigh. “I’m okay. I’ll be back in a little while.” He seems like he’s about to question you some more, so you add in a teasing tone, “Go have a bath. You could use it, Stampede.”

He gasps with mock offense, his hand clutching his chest. You crack a smile, and you can tell he’s stifling a smile of his own.

“You’re so mean!” He pouted.

You finish with your laces, standing up and putting your hands on your hips. “Doesn’t mean I’m not right!”

He frowns playfully in response, and you shoot him a grin, turning to face the door. You reach for the knob, but the sound of your name from his lips has your hand coming to a halt before reaching its destination. You turn your head to the side, silently waiting for him to continue.

He catches your eye, hesitating as he settles on what to say. “Be careful,” he finally murmurs softly, and you give him what you hope is a reassuring smile. You feel more guilt squeezing your heart at his affectionate expression.

“I will,” you promise. With that, you twist the doorknob and quietly leave the room.

You don’t even know where you’re going. You left with absolutely no plan, letting anxiety and avoidant tendencies drive your decision to flee the room. You let your feet guide you out of the building, walking onto the small street. At this hour, there aren’t many out. You pause, sighing and lifting your gaze to the clear sky. The stars look stunning.

You know where you want to go.

There is a large rock formation right near the inn. You remember seeing it on your way into town today. The vantage point it would provide would make for some excellent star gazing.

You walk around the base of the large rock aimlessly for a bit, trying to find a way up. Eventually, you stumble upon a small, worn portion of the stone, making a path of sorts. Looks like the locals enjoy coming up here too.

You slowly make your way up the rock, the worn, smooth path becoming clearer as you ascend. At the top, you find that there are lots of flat spaces to sit down at, so you choose one near the edge. The ground is cold, the air is cold, but it’s all worth it for the view.

The rock sits behind the inn, tall enough to be above the buildings of the town. You can see the vast, open desert stretch as far as the eye can see in every direction. The inky, dark sky is clear, the stars glittering brilliantly above you. Your cold, wet hair clings to your skin as you hug your knees to your chest. You feel most at ease under the night sky like this. Your problems feel small in magnitude when they are compared to the vastness of the universe.

You don’t know how long you sat in that spot, unmoving, thinking about both everything and nothing. It was apparently long enough to warrant a search party of one, though, you soon find out.

You feel a sudden warmth drape over your shoulders. You turn around, but know who it is before seeing him. The warmth surrounding you comes in the form of a long, red coat you know very well. Your eyes travel up the tall figure behind you, eventually finding his own staring down at you. The look he gives you is nothing short of fond exasperation. You are certain your confusion is clear on your face, because how did he find you?

He crouches down, reaching for your wet strands of hair. He lets a small, wet lock slide between his fingers, and he sighs.

“You’ll catch a cold out here like this, Mayfly.”

You clutch the red coat that is engulfing your frame, drawing it against your chilled body more tightly.

“How’d you find me?”

He sits down beside you, close enough that your shoulders are brushing against one another.

“Because I know you. When in doubt, I go to the highest point I can find, and you’re usually looking at the stars up there.”

Well that makes your chest feel weird. You didn’t even consciously do all that, but he knows you well enough to spot those subconscious little patterns and habits.

“Oh,” you breathe out, not knowing what to say.

He doesn’t suffer from the same predicament, apparently, because he keeps going.

“I also know you well enough to know when you’re avoiding me.” You suck in a breath, ready to cut him off and argue that statement, but he shushes you, continuing. You relent begrudgingly, because… well, he’s not wrong. “Let me explain! It’s okay - well, it’s not necessarily ideal, but I’m not upset. I just want to know what’s wrong.”

Oh, this is dangerous. Because you’d tell him anything he wants to know if he looks at you like that for much longer. He locks eyes with you, gazing at you so earnestly, so kindly. You start to look down to avoid the eye contact that has you under its spell, but he quickly reaches out to lift your chin back up.

“Please, Mayfly. Let me in.”

The dam cracks ever slightly.

“How’s your arm?” You ask, and he furrows his brows.

“It’s… fine? Why?”

He’s wearing that black turtleneck he always wears. You reach out to gently graze his arm, keeping your touch featherlight. He watches you curiously.

“I don’t know. I really—“ you cut yourself off with a sigh, feeling stupid. “I’ve just felt weird ever since you… well, you know.”

He regards you for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. He says nothing, prompting the dam to crack a bit more.

“And I know today wasn’t that out of the ordinary. I know that. But…” you feel the traitorous burn of tears in your eyes, but keep going. “It scared me. That’s all.”

His expression doesn’t give much away, but you swear he seems… sad. Yes, definitely sad. You furrow your brows as he gives you that fake smile, the one you know he hides behind so often with others. It hurts to have it directed at you.

“Listen… I completely understand if you don’t want to travel with me anymore. Having danger constantly at your heels? It is scary. Of course it is. I know that better than anyone.” His voice is soft, and there’s a melancholic sound to it that you recognize from spending countless hours with him. He takes a deep breath, continuing. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect yourself… this is your life we’re talking about. That’s something that’s precious, something that needs to be protected. I promise you, there will be no hard feelings if you want to part ways.”

Wait, wait. What is he saying? Does he think you’re afraid because the bullet could’ve hit you?

Well of course he does. Why would he think otherwise? You haven’t explained yourself. This is probably the most logical conclusion for him to jump to.

“No! Vash, wait, no. Please,” you reach out, taking his hands, halting the rambling he was engaging in while you sorted your thoughts out. “Listen.”

He obeys, watching you carefully, and gives you his attention with a nod.

“I wasn’t afraid for me. I was afraid for you.”

He looks completely taken aback. “Me?”

You frown. “Yes, of course you!” You squeeze his hands, not liking how surprised he sounds. “I care about you a lot, and today, I think I just realized that I need to do better. I need to be better. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt at all if I’d noticed that bounty hunter the way you had. I don’t want you getting harmed, especially not because of me.” Your voice trembled as you spoke. At some point during your admission, the tears you’d held back finally spilled. The dam broke. You sniffle, turning away from him.

He breathes your name so softly, you almost miss it. “C’mere.”

You feel arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close, and you don’t hesitate to curl into him. He holds you tight, hand threaded in your wet hair.

“I’m okay. No more tears. Not for me,” he murmurs, resting his chin on the top of your head.

It’s at this moment that you realize the true crux of the issue. You are terrified of losing him. He has become the most important person in your life, and so many people want him hurt or dead. That’s terrifying. This man, this kind, gentle person, is so hated for no reason.

He’s become so much more to you than just a travel companion, or even a friend for that matter. That… is also a terrifying thought.

“I promise I’m okay. And I’ll be okay. You don’t need to worry about me.”

You pull away from his chest enough to meet his eyes. “I’ll always worry about you.”

He softens, a smile forming on his lips.

You lean back into his chest, sitting together quietly, neither making a move to separate from the other. You watch the starry night sky, leaning your head onto him. His arm stays wrapped around you, keeping you close.

He’s the first to break the silence.

“It’s… nice,” he remarks softly. “It’s been a while since I had someone to worry about me. Or to cry for me.”

Your eyes widen, heart breaking at his words. This world has been so, so unkind to him.

“I know that sounds bad to say. I guess I just mean… I’m glad I have you,” he whispers, chin resting on your head. You can hear the smile in his voice.

This starts a whole new wave of fresh tears. You turn around and face him, a tear sliding down your cheek. If you weren’t so heartbroken by his words, you would’ve laughed at the expression of pure panic he gives you.

“Wait! No, don’t cry! I’m sorry!”

Shifting to sit on your knees in front of him, you wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him in a tight hug. You feel his jacket slip off your shoulders, but you don’t care.

“It doesn’t sound bad at all. I’ll be that person for you. Always,” you murmur. “I’m sorry that people have been so cruel to you. If I could undo the hurt that others have done to you, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

You feel him slowly wrap his arms around your waist, reciprocating the embrace as he processes your words. Though belated, he’s holding you just as fiercely as you’re holding him.

“Please… stay with me. I know it’s selfish to ask—“

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Stampede.” You smile at him. “I don’t know how you put up with me.”

“It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

#trigun #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x reader #trigun stampede #trigun 98 #vash x reader #vash x you #peachy writes!

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months

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Omg i just read all of the angel and devil steddie au things you wrote and I AM OBSESSED! Literally you are so good at writing and I am so jealous that I’ll never experience this irl lol. Anyway thank you for making so many amazing pieces of writing!! :)

Could you write something where Eddie makes Steve watch him slowly tease and finger the reader, using his tendrils to keep Steve against the wall in a chokehold when he tries to come over and touch you? You get a bit worried, but Eddie says that he’ll let go of his grip on Steve once the reader cums a few times, so he makes the reader squirt and then Steve joins them and plays with her boobs and kisses her, then they fuck her until she’s overstimulated? Eddie’s degrading her and Steve’s praising her?

(Sorry if that didn’t make sense, also feel free to write it however you want, whatever sparks your creativity!)

Thanks! :)

a/n: oh my gooooddd I cannot tell you how hard it was not to write this into a whole, huge fic! if only I had all the time in the world...

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | devil & angel AU masterlist

“Come on, baby,” Steve attempted a slow exhale to calm the throbbing within his jeans, staring at you intently from his restrained spot across the room, “please cum. Do it for me. Let go so that I can come over there and have a taste, please.”

“Eddie,” you whined shakily in protest of the devil’s purposely feathery light touch over your still panty-clad cunt, tickling your throbbing clit so rudely that your whole body trembled in need of more.

Settled comfortably behind you, the doe eyes you tilted your head to flash the creature didn’t sway him one bit as his tongue simply flickered across his smirk, “what?” a condescending chuckle rippling through him, “what is it?”

“M-more Eds, please,” you whimpered in his arms, “I wanna cum so bad.”

“Oh yeah? You wanna cum, do you?” he taunted, not changing his teasing touch in the slightest, his stubby nails drawing slow circles over the agonisingly thin barrier covering you up, tickling the obvious wet spot to grow as he further drew your body into madness, “you wanna get off so that your precious little angel can get what he wants, huh?”

“Yes,” you nearly cried.

“You know what I think? I think you can cum from just this,” he purred, sucking your earlobe in past his lips, “hell, I think you could even squirt for me, soak those pretty little panties and show Steve just how much you want him inside of you,” you felt like clawing up the walls from just how intense and overwhelming the lightness of his touch felt, “come on, cum for him,” he breathed, his fluttering caress steady on your mess of a trembling form, “come on, you can do it,” not even truly realising how far his teasing had pushed you, your desperate moans didn’t register in your own ears as his airy petting conjured a warm trickle to slowly darken the cotton between your quivering thighs, “there you go, honey,” he chuckled as the gush itself had flown completely over your own head, “fuck…” he suddenly gave the sodden gusset a sharp tap, the clear contrast to the previous rude butterfly that had been his touch caused your whole body to jolt and additional squirt to sputter out, your whole centre literally dripping from your juices, “such a pretty fucking mess…”

Dazed, you peeked out of the crook of Eddie’s frame that had become your hiding spot, “c-can you let go of him now?”

His eyes briefly flickering up towards the angel enveloped in the familiar forceful and inky tentacles, his smirk then redirected to you, “if you cum for him twice in the next 5 minutes,” you felt his long fingers finally breach the waistband of your underwear, your teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as you caught sight of the vision of his hand bulging underneath the drenched cotton, “then I’ll maybe consider it.”

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sophiasrant · 2 months

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do you have any good damijon fic recs?

BEST ASK EVER. GIVE ME A MOMENT TO AQUIRE.

1. Navigating life by nxghtwxng

College AU that will break your heart and mend it over and over again. My favorite damijon fic EVER. I’m insane over it. If you do one thing tonight, start this series.

2. got your finger on the trigger (but your trigger finger’s mine) by eyes_to_the_sky

EVIL JON AU MY BELOVED. A small one shot that had me in a chokehold for WEEKS.

3. Bloodstains on Fresh Oranges by artobsessed_writes

VAMPIRE DAMIAN AU SHHDJEHFJE. This fic had me gnawing at my walls. This fic is SO good about their dynamic and I WHDHDJJDJE. It is the first part of a series!! Can never recommend it enough.

4. Mirror Mirror by First_Mate

In another universe, Damian is murdered. Jon can’t handle it, so decides to travel to another universe to be with their Damian. Only, that universe’s Jon might just take issue with that. I can’t do it justice by summarizing it. IT’S SO GOOD.

5. It Wouldn’t Be Make Believe (If You Believed In Me) by poisonivory

College AU!!! The boys have to go undercover together to party. What could possibly go wrong (or right)?

6. I can’t make you love me by badwriterrr

Unrequited love all around but it all ends up ok. If you don’t like unrequited love angst, I probably wouldn’t read this one but I LOVE it.

7. Those Who Wait by InsaneTrollLogic

I have never been a reverse robins girlie. It has never been my thing. This however is the exception. This fic makes me want to sob. I’m so normal about it.

8. Propinquity theory by butterflyapocalypse

Another college AU. Can you tell I like them yet?

9. Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow by poisonivory

They’re totally platonic friends with benefits! Absolutely nothing more! No one caught feelings! (You’ll never guess what happened)

10. Trust Fall by Ididloveyou_once

This one is a timkon fic with background damijon but it’s so good and changed my brain chemistry so im tacking it on anyway. You can’t stop me.

If you ever need any more fics, you know where to find me. OR if you wanna rec ME fics, I am to fics like a crow is to shiny objects.

(Edit: they are still superheroes in all of the college AUs if I remember correctly)

#sophia rants #damijon #jondami #dc #Damian Wayne #jon kent #Jonathan Kent #damijon fic recs #damian wayne x jon kent #ask #robin #superboy #superrobin

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vixentheplanet · 10 months

Text

not like the movies

“if it’s not like the movies, that’s how it should be.”

shuri x black!reader | 18+

summary

"It's a crazy idea you were made perfectly, you'll see. just like the movies, that's how it will be. cinematic and dramatic. with the perfect ending."

Absolutely flawless in every way-as a daughter, a student, and a girlfriend. You live life guided by the choices your parents made and the fear of disappointment.

Up until she showed up, everything changed.

The Wakandan Princess arrives on the MIT campus as a new transfer student, and Shuri's presence throws all of your plans off course. For in your life, you make your own choice, love.

word count: 12k (i added more)

themes: perfectionist reader, university students, falling in love, arranged relationships/marriage, shuri noticed the little things and that’s everything

warning: sex, smoking, drinking, controlling parents

dedicated to my lyric @inmyheadimobsessed. this is her fic i just wrote it

hi ✨- i woke up with one mission and that was to write the part that i added at the end so i spent all day writing for the first time in forever… it was nice. anyways the response when i first posted this was overwhelming 🥺 i hope you all have/find fairytale love 💜 AND I ADDED MORE this was the beginning of part two i reworked.

happy speak now taylor’s version to all who celebrate she took track 21 out the vault for me but folklore has me in a chokehold rn

"No, not that one."

Shuri looks to the MIT junior who is showing her around, blinking to recover focus. “What?” Shuri inquires, her face confused.

Riri follows Shuri's gaze to the girl who caused her to come to a halt in the middle of the courtyard where the club fair was held. "I can see you staring. There are plenty of girls on campus, but not her." Riri repeats herself.

The Wakandan didn't understand the reaction. Was she someone Shuri should avoid? “Is she mean or something?”

"No, she's a friend of mine. Sweet girl. I'll introduce you, but she has a boyfriend, and they're getting engaged soon." Riri states it simply. Deeply committed and getting ready to marry.

Shuri suppressed her disappointment at the news. “Who said I was interested?” Shuri replies, trying to play off her first emotion to seeing arguably the most stunning woman she'd ever seen. A face like that was one worth remembering.

Riri gives her friend the side eye, sucking her teeth in response to Shuri's denial. “You stopped in the middle of the walkway,” Riri notes, pulling Shuri out of the way of a small group trying to bypass the pair. "And keep your bottom lip closed. You're drooling." Riri cracks a joke, tapping Shuri on the chin. Shuri frowns, yet her heart flutters at the prospect of speaking with the one who took her breath away.

The club fair, one of MIT's most significant events, required you to show your face as president of the SGA. In designing programs, services, and policy decisions, the Student Government Association represented students' perspectives. The governing body distributes finances to authorized clubs and organizations and is responsible for defending the student body's rights. It was a lot of responsibility, but you'd spent your entire life overcoming obstacles to get to the top.

You were sitting at a table decorated in university colors, with a spread of pens, stickers, pamphlets, and lollipops, among other things, to draw attention. Numerous people had stopped by, and the email sign-up list was already two pages long. Maybe it was the way you smiled or the sound of your voice that pulled people to you, but connecting with others was in your nature. It's no surprise that you were well-known among your peers and instructors.

You're finishing up a talk with a woman and her son, a first-year student, when you notice something out of the corner of your eye. Riri Williams. Meeting Riri was an unforeseen relationship; you needed assistance with vector calculus, and she came through. You respect your friendship with Riri; she wasn’t like those who clung to you for popularity and relevance. She was genuine, and it was also refreshing to have one aspect of your life that your parents didn't dominate. You were, nevertheless, perplexed by her appearance. Riri spent much of her free time in the lab experimenting and working on personal work. She told you as much when you tried to recruit her into the SGA when you were both freshmen a few years back. You smile as you wave the mother and son away before scolding, "Riri, get away from my table," swatting the hand and reaching for one of the lollipops. "You had two years to join and-"

"Relax, ma. I'm not here to bother you. I'm not really interested in these little club events." Riri motions to the person who has followed her. "All I'm doing is showing Shuri around." You notice the Wakandan royal standing close to your friend.

The level of awe is overwhelming. The Kingdom of Wakanda is a technologically advanced kingdom famed for its abundant resources of the material vibranium. You were aware of the royalty, including the Princess, Shuri's remarkable brilliant inventions. Thus her presence before you was unexpected.

“This is Y/N. University’s student government president, top student, presidents list, deans list-” Riri continues to itemize your successes, and you abruptly cut her off, unclear of her intentions.

There were a lot of public figures and famous children at MIT. Even so, you were taken aback to discover the young Princess traveled all the way from Wakanda to Cambridge, Massachusetts. She probably tried to fit in with the rest of the students by dressing like them in a faded Outkast tee shirt and light jeans, but her natural beauty stood out too much. Shuri's hair was arranged in tight coils, her enticing features the way her lips were full, a smile formed on her face flashing a flawless row of straight teeth.

When Shuri's eyes contact yours, your cheeks flush with warmth, and the air around you feels suffocating despite the fact that you're in the midst of the courtyard, with the breeze swinging the trees. "Just, Y/N," you find the words to say. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess Udaku." You reach out your hand.

Riri frowns, "All this formal shit, just call her Shuri."

Having become accustomed to Riri's boldness, neither of you cares to take offense or give her any regard. Shuri clasps her hands in yours and shakes them firmly. “Yes, you can call me Shuri.”

Formal greeting exchanged, you can’t help but ask, "Wow, what drew you to MIT? Wakanda, I'm sure, has significantly superior educational institutions."

"I wanted to study overseas, and MIT provides great mechanical, scientific, and engineering creative programs. Riri is also quite convincing." Shuri chuckled.

You look over at Riri and say, "I bet she is," She sticks out her tongue as you realize she's stolen candy from the table.

"That's fantastic, and I'm sure the entire university is thrilled to have you here. I am the President of The Student Government Association, as Riri stated. Please do not hesitate to contact me if you have any issues." You take up the light green pen you've been carrying, scribble down your cell phone number, and offer it to Shuri.

Ignoring the way your skin prickles as your fingers brush against it. Shuri carefully places the piece of paper with precise nine digits written in green in her pocket. Riri speaks again, "We're probably going to hang out at my apartment this weekend. Are you coming?"

You hesitate for a moment, considering everything you need to do. Today was Tuesday, which was your day in the library, so you'd have to make up for lost time over the week. You also had a date with your boyfriend this weekend. You wouldn't be able to. "I can't. I need to catch up on work and attend Travis' parents' gala this weekend."

Riri's eyes roll at the mention of his name. "The only person I know that has planned out every little detail of their entire life."

"Be quiet."

Overhearing the exchange, someone would think Riri was kidding or exaggerating, but she wasn't. Since your birth, the urge to satisfy your own wants has been overwhelmed by the dread of disappointing your parents. Besides, it could be worse. They wanted you to be influential, to shine amongst others. They had a say in everything: schooling, personal life, and romantic relationships... Everything was all right. "It means no time to lose contemplating decisions when you can take action," your mother always stated.

"Whatever his name is, where is he?" Riri mumbled, her tone unpleasant. After learning more about your life, Riri immediately criticized your parents' and Travis' actions.

You and Travis have been dating since your junior year of high school. It wasn't a typical boy meets girl or meet-cute from a romance story. His parents had come home for dinner one day, which is how you met. You were forced to spend time together, left alone at various gatherings, and finally, as your parents intended, you got together. You've been together ever since.

His parents were wealthy and owned a multimillion-dollar software company, Gateway Software, with your father serving as a US senator and your mother as a lawyer. Their two bright stars were a match made in heaven. It's no surprise that you and Travis ended up at MIT together, with you studying computer engineering and him studying politics.

You narrow your eyes at her. She knew his name. You just said it. “You know his name. Travis, Riri, how are you going to act once we're engaged?"

Marriage was the ultimate goal for you and Travis. Your mother had informed you since senior year of high school that we would be your husband. Both of your parents were heavily involved in your relationship. Travis' parents believe that a couple should be engaged between twelve and eighteen months. Your mother reminded you it’s every girl's dream to marry her high school sweetheart. You may be married soon after graduation if he proposes now. Getting engaged during your junior year of university was the ideal timing, and there is a good chance the proposal would happen soon.

You weren’t unhappy. Your parents like him, your mom picked him, and that’s all that mattered.

Shuri clears her throat to renounce her presence, breaking up the mini arguments between you and Riri. “Sorry. Riri, we have that seminar in fifteen minutes.”

Riri’s eyebrows furrowed before straightening them out, “Uh, yeah. We’ll see you later, Y/N. Text me when you’re free.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Shuri,” you tell her.

“You as well,” Shuri replied, and you waved them off, going back to your activities for the day.

The next time you encounter Shuri, she’s entering the library with who you’re sure is a member of the Dora Milaje entering, following a few feet behind her. Her gaze scans the room before settling on you. You were sitting alone, Tuesdays are your least busy days, and you usually spend hours in the library getting comfy with water and a candy bag, balance. It was your day to catch up on work or prepare for any future assignments, and because most people understood this, they were less likely to bother you. You admit you overextend yourself, but taking a breather is good.

From how she scanned the room, it’s evident she was observing the area, and you motioned her over. Shuri's face brightens when she approaches you, pleased to see a familiar face, and you can't help but smile at her radiance. You feel bad for not checking in on her, but this week has been crazy with the Honor Society elections and a gala with Travis and his parents.

Shuri turns to the woman, who is not so subtly following her; they exchange a few words before the woman turns away, and Shuri comes over to you. "Hey, Shuri!"

"Hi, Y/N," she softened her smile.

You ask, "How are you liking things at MIT?" quickly, anticipating that she may walk away. It's been two weeks since you had your initial interaction with Riri. You're sure the Princess has taken a few classes and explored some of the campus's offerings.

Shuri pushes the backpack she's carrying onto her shoulder. "It's great, but I just have two-morning lessons today. I'm at a loss for what to do with the rest of my day. I went to look at some of the sites on campus and ended up here,” she explains.

You're glad she came here by chance. Your initial meeting was brief, and you were both carried up in the wave of academia. You needed to figure out when you'd have time to devote to the new transfer. "I'm happy to see you. I apologize for not being more helpful."

Shuri, on the other hand, disagrees. "Please, no. Don't be worried; I'm sure you're busier than I am. Everything has been fine. Riri has been excellent, as have the Dean and other instructors. I'm doing good."

That made you happy to know she was settling in well. Without question, the school would go out of its way to make the most important person on campus feel welcome.

"That's amazing," you say, your voice drifting off as you consider your next words. Why were your thoughts slipping away from you? You then decide to share some of the snacks you brought with Shuri. “Oh, dum-dum?” You're watching Shuri's surprise, thinking she's being insulted, then noticing the candy in your hand.

The expression on her face makes you laugh so hard that the least appealing sound in the world escapes your mouth. You snort and hastily cover your mouth with your hands, your eyes wide in disbelief that you made such an obnoxious noise. The loudness of your amusement draws a few glances, and you mumble a modest apology. This time, it's Shuri's turn to laugh, and she does it quietly, aware of her surroundings.

"It's a lollipop," you explain as you pull the red package from your bookbag for Shuri to examine. In response to her admission that she is at a loss for the rest of the day, you make a suggestion. "On Tuesdays, you are welcome to join me. It is usually my study day. I'll be here all day. It's just me and my sweets." There was a random assortment of chocolate, lollipops, snack-size Skittles, and M&Ms.

Shuri raised an eyebrow at you, taking a seat. "That's a lot of candy," she observes, staring at your bag.

"People are wandering around here with nothing but Adderall and caffeine in their systems," you draw it closer to you. "I'm fine."

Coffee, beloved by all, was disgusting to you, and you discovered sugar a good substitute in your refusal to drink it. You remember being a kid, and your mother wouldn't even allow you to look at candy. She wasn't here right now. "If you're concerned, my dentist says I have exceptional teeth and brush and floss twice daily."

"It'll make it easier for me to sleep at night." Shuri jokes. The spherical bracelet on Shuri’s wrist rings, and she gives you an apologetic pout. "I must go, but seeing you again was great."

“You too,” you respond, disappointed eyes watching her stand. As quickly as she appeared, she was gone, rejoined by the person from earlier. You were left wanting more time with her, wanting to talk to her and discover more about her.

The opportunity will present itself the following week. You're sitting at an empty table in the corner, transferring your digital notes to paper. Rewriting them helped memorization. The sound of the chair pulling out draws your attention, and your pulse quickens as you see Shuri in front of you. "Well, hi," you said as you removed the lollipop from your mouth.

You notice her slipping into the open seat across from you. “Sorry, did I disturb you? You looked concentrated.”

You immediately shake your head. Her company could never be a disruption. “No, no. I was so absorbed that I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings."

Shuri drops her bag down onto the chair next to hers and starts taking out various notebooks and a laptop. “What are you working on?” She wondered.

"Discrete Structures." The woman says, nodding. You liked the subject; discrete mathematics analyzes mathematical structures that are "discrete" rather than "continuous." It entailed a lot of work with integers, graphs, and logical assertions. "I use this pen since it's my favorite subject," you explain, holding out the pen you were now writing with, the colorful handwriting inked into the page.

Shuri reads through your notes; she is, of course, already versed with the material. She's probably taking courses that are way beyond your level of expertise. "Can I guess, computer engineering major?"

You exchange a look and a smile, both knowing she is correct. “Yes, how did you know?”

"The notions of discrete mathematics are directly applicable to computing concepts, easy guess." Her brilliance was admirable.

You blink at her, how she could take a simple answer and use it to learn more about you. "I believe," you say, pulling out the bag of candies you bought with you. "You should be rewarded for that." Shuri laughs at your childlike demeanor but nonetheless selects a mini bag of Skittles.

You get the same feelings the first few times you had Shuri near and alone as you did the first time you saw her. Butterflies and increased blood flow to the face. You figure it's because who wouldn't be nervous in the presence of one of the world's most brilliant minds? Your mind tries to justify that it was because Shuri was the royal of the world's most powerful nation. It was expected to feel nervous, fearful of doing or saying anything stupid that would make you look like a complete fool.

As the uncertainty fades, talking to Shuri becomes increasingly simpler. Her personality was the perfect blend of courteous, engaging, and dynamic—she was full of energy, and her mind was incredibly inventive. You were fascinated by her weekly research reports, and you soaked up all the information she presented to you. Her voice became your favorite sound, and you'd often get distracted while listening to her speak, but you'd never tell her. Shuri would probably become aware of how long she had been talking to you, and a world without her voice was not one you wished to inhabit.

Physical barriers were also being erased. You'd always sat across from each other, respectful of each other's personal space. Until one day, she goes from across the table to sit with you one day after you have a stressful day, your head is killing you, and you're very sure you've neglected essential nutrition. In the middle of the library, with your head on the table, Shuri’s there, one hand scrolling through her tablet. The other massaged your forehead and the base of your skull softly, relieving the pressure in your head. "You need to look after yourself," she says. I was well aware of the chaos that was your academic and personal routine. You mutter a quick response, immersed in the sensation of letting yourself be tended to.

Shuri no longer sat across from you after that day, instead choosing to remain beside you, bringing the two of you closer together. You could smell cardamom and iris close to her, warm and smokey. Soothing.

Outside the library, the three of you form a trio in that Riri and Shuri are usually together, and when you see Riri, you see Shuri. You're not bothered by it at all. It allows you to spend more time together. Every week you spent together, you discovered new aspects of her that you had overlooked the day before. The way in which she laughed. Her smirking expression. The amazing discoveries she brought with her every time. The intensity with which she stared at you when you spoke. The way she looked after you on bad days. How her fingers brushed on your skin.

You could have avoided it if you had spotted it sooner. You could have prevented yourself from falling. Cupid had shot his golden arrow, aimed squarely into your heart while you were only looking at Shuri, and he didn't miss.

You're in Riri's apartment on a Friday night. A few recognized faces are regulars at Riri's kickback sessions. Tonight was a rare time you could attend. Riri typically held them on Saturday, but you really wanted to come, and tomorrow was a definite no. Your parents were having a catered dinner at the estate for a few of your relatives who had flown in. Both you and Travis' families would be in attendance, and your mother had already chosen a dress. You could appear oblivious and pretend you didn't know what was going to happen tomorrow, but you knew in the back of your mind that everything would change.

To avoid raising suspicions about your whereabouts tonight, you told Travis you were going to a paint and sip before falling asleep as soon as you returned to your dorm. Unfortunately, you were a lightweight. You've never developed the tolerance to hold your alcohol, let alone the weed. Another thing you would only do if you were in Riri's presence and trusted her to watch after you. You were already gone.

You simply wanted one more night of normalcy with your friends before Travis took over your life. Juggling finishing your degree and wedding planning, if you’d even be allowed to do that.

You're lying on the floor with your head propped up on a pillow, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. “Are you alive over there?” Riri asked, and you nodded. “Alright, because I don’t need Senator John trying to come after me.”

Others were getting started, but you were done for the night. You weren't paying attention to their discussion. Adding something would take thinking; you didn't want to do that right now. Until—

“Aye, Shuri, how’d it go with Stacey?” Stacey was someone you were acquainted with. You’d met a few times in a setting like this. She was always pleasant, but you had no idea Shuri was involved with her. Apparently, everyone else did.

You tilt your head to see Shuri, moving a bit too quickly for your current state since the room begins to spin, but everything stops when you find the one you've been looking for. Shuri’s seated on the couch, a joint between her lips before she hands it back to Danielle. Once the smoke clears, it's simply her, with her flawless skin and defined features. Getting consumed by her, you almost forget the conversation at hand. Almost.

"Did you do it?" Joshua rises up and begins thrusting against the air, and your face turns disgusted. Everyone else seems to think it’s the funniest thing in the world breaking out in a joined laughter that has your ears ringing.

Shuri's gaze is drawn to yours. You had no idea she was seeing someone. Does she not trust in you enough to tell you? Travis came up during your times together, not often, but she knew you were in a relationship, and you’d thought you were close enough. Shuri breaks contact first, turning to the guy who made the vulgar actions. “Cut it out,” Shuri laughs awkwardly. That doesn't sound like the one you're used to when it's just the two of you.

Riri chimes in, “That means she did.”

Upon hearing that, more people are begging for details. Having to listen to Shuri sit here and describe the night she had with Stacey makes you feel sick to your stomach. "Yes, you've got to tell us something because her ass is-"

You start speaking before you notice your slurred and loose words. "I believe that what you do in your private life should be kept private." Hoping to put an end to this discussion. You felt a fire in your chest at the thought of Shuri with anybody else; the feeling was absurd, and you had no idea why it hurt so much.

Someone sucks their teeth in response to your objection. “Of course, Y/N doesn’t like talking about sex.”

"That's because she's never done anything memorable. I mean, you've known Travis since high school, right?" The attention has turned from Shuri to you, and you're not sure which is worse—having so many comments flung at you, being the target of so many remarks.

Someone then says it. "Aren’t you getting engaged soon?" As the months passed, the thing that had been towering over you turned from exciting to terrifying. You could never tell anyone about the flaw in your rose-colored glasses. If you didn’t acknowledge it, it would go away.

“I don’t disclose my private affairs. Yes, I've known Travis since high school, and we're getting married. I don't see what the issue is." Your voice slightly rises. You weren't normally this defensive. You were used to the taunting and jokes. But you were happy with your life, so nothing could bother you. It was the path ahead. It was-

When Danielle opens her mouth, the crowd becomes silent, allowing everyone to hear her. "All I'm saying is going the rest of your life without an orgasm is crazy," she snarks.

Your intellect is too drunk to reply, but your blood is racing. Something snaps within you. In your altered state, you're on your feet and out the door as quickly as possible, wanting to be away from this debate anywhere but here.

You can hear Riri yelling at Danielle, "Watch how you talk to her," a few people call after you hoping you'll return. You wouldn't do it.

You are filled with various emotions, including hurt, hatred, and envy. You've heard a lot of jokes and comments about your sex, or lack thereof. You're used to people thinking you and Travis getting engaged was hasty, despite the fact that you've been together since high school.

For the remainder of your life, you're going to be his wife. He'll be your husband, and your life will be exactly as your parents planned all those years ago—an ideal partnership with assets and reciprocal benefits on both sides.

Your feet led you to the park across the street; you weren't familiar with the area, but you and Riri went there. A fountain was in the center, and you stood on the flat seating area, wandering about in a circle. That's why life felt like a never-ending circle of frustration. A series of instructions to leap and jump. Nothing belonged to you. You did not choose your school, your activities, ballet, piano, violin, debate, soccer... Your parents have meticulously planned your life.

You could hear someone approaching you with a call to your name amid your panic. "Riri, leave me alone-"

It was Shuri. “How did you know I was here?”

“I left after you. You move fast when you’re intoxicated.” She chased you. You tried not to let your pulse rate increase as a result of your emotions. The butterflies in your stomach that usually flew when the Princess was nearby, ready to take flight. "I think you should get down," Shuri suggests, possibly worried about you falling into the fountain.

"No," you groan, reminded of the cause for all of this—stupid Stacey. "Why didn't you tell me you went out with Stacey?" you demand. Shuri is surprised by your search for conflict and your willingness to be so straightforward.

Her face twisted in confusion. “It’s not that important,” she defends.

You freeze, standing still in front of her, looking down on her from your elevated vantage point. "We're friends and meant to tell each other stuff. You told everyone else except me," you complain.

She lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing that talking to you would be futile while you were like this. "I hooked up with Stacey and will see her again tomorrow. Is this what you're looking for?" Her tone reflects her irritation.

Tomorrow. She would be with Stacey tomorrow, and you would receive a ring with the promise of forever. "It appears that tomorrow will be a big day for everyone," you remarked as you resumed your laps around the fountain.

"What are you talking about—come on, Y/N, get down."

You're standing on the fountain's edge, and Shuri stares at you with intense, focused eyes. "No, you don't get it. He's going to propose tomorrow." You watch as Shuri's jaw clenches.

"Mrs. Travis Moore," you mumble in the dark of night, the taste in your mouth bitter. "They think he's going to be the future president of the United States, fucking moron can't even get to his classes on time," you try to lighten the weight of your remarks. You laugh to keep the tears at bay.

Once the panic subsides, you recognize its significance and analyze your thoughts. The pain was for the years that were taken away from you. Your entire life has been mapped out for years without a concrete decision. Anger because the illusion was collapsing. Your gaze shifts to Shuri, the woman you'd become close to during the months of bonding over candy and your common passion for research. Jealous of those whose lips got to taste hers and those who spent their time coaxing noises from her that you would never hear. Jealous that someone would be wearing a ring on their finger to match hers, a symbol of eternity and dedication, it wouldn't be you. The odds are infinitely against it being you.

You want to hide from everything.

You jump down and start walking with no idea where you are going. “Where are you going?” Shuri shouts, jogging up beside you. “I don’t know.” Your car wasn’t here; not like you would be driving anyways. You didn’t want to go back to campus with the possibility of running into Travis and him knowing you lied.

You stopped at the entrance gate, turning around, “I don’t know. I don’t want to go back there. Just leave me here,” you tell her.

Shuri shakes her head. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to leave you outside by yourself.”

“Well, I’m not leaving,” you respond stubbornly.

Shuri's expression is one you've seen before when she's stuck on a problem and begins thinking hard about what to do next. "Would you come to my place?" She asked.

Everything inside of you is screaming yes. Having a night to yourself with Shuri seems like a gift from the cosmos, granting you a small taste of happiness. You nod your head, “But I don’t want to walk to the car,” you plead. Shuri's face softened as she bowed slightly to allow you to climb on her back. You lay your head on her shoulder, inhaling the soothing aroma. Clinging to Shuri's back as she heads towards her car in the direction she chased you from.

Shuri's apartment is close to the MIT campus. The moonlight flows through the blinds on the floor-to-ceiling windows, revealing Shuri's life. It was your first visit, and you spent time absorbing the small details the moon permitted. The bookshelf has reached its capacity, and books have spilled onto the floor. Photos of her family, including her late father and brother. She spoke of them often. Artwork resembled the small sketches she'd make with your colored pens—everything she treasures in one place. "Come," Shuri said quietly, for the residence was dark without the moonlight.

Shuri takes your hand and leads you down the hallway. “This is the guest bedroom. You can sleep in here.” She opens the door, and it’s a simple room with a queen-sized bed. “I’ll be back. Do you need anything? Water?”

No, you motion with your head. "I'm okay," you said, your voice low and sleepy. Shuri's steps are hesitant as she exits the room as if she's worried about leaving you alone, and you nearly beg her not to. The only chance you had to spend with her was tonight, so you made sure to take advantage of every minute of it.

You lie down on the bed and wait, and the minutes seem to drag on forever. Shuri enters the room wearing sweatpants and the Outkast tee shirt she wore the first time you met her.

“Dum-dum?” She asks, handing up a lollipop. Pineapple with coconut. It's your favorite. As you recall your early interactions, you can't help but laugh fondly—the beginning of your story.

You take it from her, unwrap it, and pop it into your mouth. You're not studying, but you might be able to make an exception. Shuri stands at the foot of the bed, unsure of what to do, and the atmosphere takes on an uneasy tone. "What are you doing standing there?" There she was, and you really wanted to be beside her.

“You’re a little under the influence, and I don’t want to leave you alone.”

You consider your options. "You could rub my head? Please?” A self-interested request, "I'll help me fall asleep,” but you'd never get this chance again. That she does, she was opting to be here with you rather than sleeping in her own bed. When she lies down, she offers her arms and invites you to cuddle into her side. It's an excellent fit.

With Shuri so close, you can't help but be attentive, wanting to remember this beautiful moment forever. You let your imagination wander into fantasies where you're hers, and she's yours. You exist in unison. Instead of this lifetime, you're left to wonder what could have been. The silence is soothing, and you sink into Shuri's touch as her fingers strive to relieve the tension in your head. When you let go of everything, the only thing that remains is her: the way she smells, the way her hands touch your skin, and the life her words instill in you.

You are the one who breaks the stillness. “Have you ever wanted something you can’t have?” You have no idea what the question was about. To make your own choices. To be liberated from your parents. Her.

Shuri's fingers in your hair pause. "I know the feeling all too well recently," Shuri confesses.

You don’t respond, afraid you’ll say too much, but if she feels your heart beating, she doesn’t mention anything. The sound of her breathing lulls you to sleep.

You were leaving too soon in the morning, but you knew Travis or your mother would come looking for you to prepare for tonight. Shuri watches you with concern. The two of you barely spoke a few words since you’d woken up together.

"Y/N," she says, her voice strained. "You know, you don't have to do this." At long last, she was able to voice what had been going on in her head.

"Please, Shuri. I've heard it from everyone else but don't want to hear it from you." Your heart couldn't take it since you knew if she told you, you'd stay.

"I believe last night was the first time you were honest with yourself in the months I've known you." Her stare is deadly serious.

"I wasn't thinking clearly. Commitment is intimidating, but I'm alright."

"It shouldn't feel like that," Shuri says, interrupting your explanations. "You should not be afraid to spend the rest of your life with the person you care about."

"And you don't love him," she continues firmly as if that would be enough to convince you, but you were aware that you didn't love Travis. You never claimed to.

"I'm content and think I can learn to love him." This was your last argument since it was the clearest justification available. A life without Travis was an unstable situation, and you couldn't risk destroying everything if you had no plan in place.

It is still insufficient for Shuri. "You'd think after all these years of being together, you'd have learned by now."

She lets out a bitter chuckle, “You’re going to marry someone who, at the very least, doesn’t even know your favorite color. You have no idea how silly that sounds." It was an offhand comment, but it cut deep

The debate is hopeless for you. She’s prepared to counteract everything you have to say. "Can we not have this talk right now? It's finished." With Travis's future political aspirations in mind, this arrangement is more secure, guarantees financial stability for your father's campaigns, and strengthens social relations. That was the strategy. There's no possibility you'd ever intend to undo your parents' hard work.

Shuri sighs, “It’s hard to accept this when I know you deserve better.” Her words wounded you. A message alerts you that your Uber return to class awaits you outside.

You hate leaving now, knowing that your actions have affected Shuri, witnessing her friend settle for a life that isn't hers. If she only knew how difficult it is for you to depart from the security of the one love you've ever known. You're grateful she found a place in your life; otherwise, you'd never have felt this way. You reach closer and kiss her cheek, a selfish deed for your own satisfaction. “Thank you.” You whisper.

This was the conclusion of your story since you had to deny your feelings for Shuri until they faded to darkness. Hanging on to hope can only lead to heartbreak. She wasn't yours, and she never would be.

Dinner with your parents and Travis' family is similar, except that there are a few more close relatives from your respective families there. You spent the morning with your mother at the salon, your hair in a low twisted bun. "A photographer is coming tonight. I need you to be perfect." A makeup artist arrives at your house to prepare you for the night. Your mother had chosen a pale pink modest dress for this occasion weeks in advance, the tag digging into your neck.

Everyone at the table is staring at you, a knowing expression on their faces, and you can't stop the knots in your gut from twisting. The conversation is light, with everyone chatting about themselves:

"I purchased that new BMW 2023."

"Gateway Software stock jumped this week!"

"I went golfing with the Mccoys!"

They said it in a way that made it appear as though they weren't secretly attempting to outdo each other.

"Oh, Y/N," your aunt says in an attempt to catch your attention. "I was contemplating selling my Cape Cod beach home. I believe that would be an excellent area for you and Travis to settle down after you graduate."

Travis' mother expresses her displeasure, saying, "Don't you think I'll be hazardous for the children so close to water?"

Your mother is quick to interject, “Y/N will be an amazing mother. She will not let my grandchildren drown."

As if she understands what a wonderful mother looks like. As if any of the ladies in this room knew what it meant to be a mother, to care for and love their children. You remain silent and smile politely at your mother, defending your unborn children. You were confident that if you opened your mouth, you'd dry-heave. Discussions about children, homes, and marriage. A future with someone you didn't care for—a life you did not desire.

Later, when you're all gathered about continuing to exchange small conversation, holding a glass of three thousand dollar champagne you can't force yourself to drink, it happens—that moment you've been dreading.

A fork clinks against a champagne glass, capturing the room's attention. Travis smiles big, standing center stage and ready to play out the scene you’ve prepared for. "I believe we all know why we're here,” He starts, cutting his gaze to you. You’re sure those surrounding you are buying into it, the couple head over heels and ready to say ‘I do.’ “My dear Y/N, I've been the luckiest man in the world since I met you in high school. Y/N, She’s beautiful uh- smart, she… she’s beautiful and a great person.” Here he was proposing to the love of his life, with impersonal and flawed lines. He didn’t rehearse.

The man before you continues his monologue, “So, will you make me the happiest man in the world,” Travis says, setting his glass down and bending to one knee. Putting in front of you a diamond whose price tag would put a neighborhood's worth of groceries to shame. “Will you marry me?”

You knew your line was a ‘yes’ because, unlike Travis, you had practiced it. Each day until a few months ago, when uncertainty crept in, and your heart ached for more, no longer content with being without passion. Your first clench, and you close your eyes for a second to imagine being anywhere but here, too. You calm the growing panic. In the sanctuary of your imagination, you and Shuri are in her arms as she hugs you and makes you feel so cherished and loved, a sensation you've never felt before her, and the prospect of never being able to feel that way again makes you want to cry.

When you open your eyes, the vision shatters by the reality before you. This was it, and you peered down at Travis on one knee. You'd say yes, he'd slide the ring on your finger, and that was the end of it. You carry a diamond around campus. You have an enviable love story; unlike so many other girls who spend their entire lives looking for love, you found yours at an early age and made it work through all of life's challenges and hardships. A love story that most people only fantasize about. You only had to say yes, so you were astonished even by yourself when the word "No" rolled off your tongue.

A chorus of gasps sounded out over the room. His mom says, "dear god," and his dad responds, "What did she say?"

Travis is mortified and unsure about how to proceed. This improvisation was not in the script, and you couldn't move on to the next page without the answer everyone in the room had expected. "I'm sorry if you didn't hear me. I said will you marry me?”

"No," you say again. The more you looked down at him, the more anxious you became. “Travis, get up, get up!”

His father steps in, “Are you two having relationship issues? We can pay for a counselor-“

A typical response, throw money at all your problems. “No! I'm not going to marry him. I don't love him!" Further disbelief can be heard across the gathering. As Travis stands, you take a step back.

Your mother intervenes, attempting to save your relationship with Travis. The breakup of your partnership would be detrimental to her connection to his parents. "Y/N, don't be ridiculous. How can you not love him when you've known him since you were young?" she argued.

You turn your head, pointing an accusatory finger, "Because you told us to!" Your mother blinks, her eyes bulging because you have never raised your voice at her in your entire life. You had never dared to disobey her before.

You're going to marry someone who doesn't even know your favorite color. Shuri's voice resonated in your head, and you almost laughed out loud because she was correct. He doesn't know anything about you. Throughout all your years together, you almost ended up in a loveless marriage contract out of desperation to keep your parents pleased.

You return your gaze to Travis and ask, "What's my favorite color?" Curious as to what he would answer.

In the presence of all your closest relatives, the friendly guy persona he'd been striving to preserve cracks. He fixed a venomous gaze at you, his brow furrowed. "What?" he muttered.

"Can you tell me what my favorite color is?" You slowly repeat.

"Y/N. I had no idea I would have to take a pop quiz to propose," he spits.

"After all these years, you still don't know my favorite color." You must get out of here and away from him. Away from these people. Back to the place where you felt secure.

When you turn away, Travis grabs your wrist. “Is there someone else?” and the silence is deafening. The whole room is waiting for the reply.

You yank your arm out from his grasp. "I don't know," you say honestly. But the uncertainty of Shuri was incomparable to the life here before you. "But I know I'm not going to marry you."

It's like déjà vu as you rush out of the room and into your car, but you're going towards something new instead of running away from your issues. A cacophony of voices called your name, but you paid them no attention. When you finally got the keys in the ignition, it was with trembling hands, and you looked up in alarm to see your mother and Travis approaching the vehicle. Her face was filled with terror, as if she was scared you had finally found your voice. The strength to say no, the flawless plan she put out for your life, was ruined and would remain so because you would never consider marrying Travis again. You didn't care about him. You didn't want a relationship like that with someone who didn't love you, and he didn't.

It was as though your emotions led, and your head followed as you drove through local streets until you arrived at Shuri's condo. You hurried out of the car, desperate to see her. Let her know that you recognize her truthfulness and that you do deserve and seek something better. Tell her how she invaded your senses and the first time you ever felt valued was in her company.

After trying the buzzer to no avail, you break. The defeat you feel causes you to sink into the hard cement steps and cry until your whole body shakes. The tears continue to fall as you take your hair out of the awful tight bun, ruining your nicely made-up face by wiping your eyes. You're not sure how long you've been there, letting the night chill nip at your skin.

A voice called out. “Y/N?” You couldn't tell who it was until you looked up and saw Stacey holding Shuri's hand. You can't resist the frown that forms on your face as you watch her with someone else, but you know you must be quite the sight with your unkempt hair, trembling body, and smudged makeup. You feel silly now; you forgot Shuri had been out with her. You stand up fast, an excuse on your tongue, but Shuri is quick. "Y/N- Oh my," Shuri rushes to you, dropping Stacey's hand. She's by your side in an instant, fabric wrapped around your shoulder. You hadn't even noticed her remove her jacket as she wrapped you up. “Why are you here? How long have you been out here.”

"I'm sorry, Stacey, but- another time?" She offers, knowing that their night is coming to an end.

Stacey looks between you two. You can sense she's disappointed, despite her efforts to be compassionate. "I understand. Will you text me later?"

Shuri says, "Sure, definitely," ignoring the woman she intended to spend the night with and instead focusing on you. You see the girl give a final look, her expression unreadable, as she walks away, while Shuri is intent on unlocking the door and getting you inside.

Shuri leads you into the kitchen and places you on one of the stools at the center island. "How come you didn't call me?" That's the first thing she says. If your name flashed on the screen, would she have answered the phone in the middle of the date?

"I left my phone at my parent's house." You respond. Shuri grabs a paper towel and passes it to you. You accept it, dabbing your eyes and watching the white material stain with your makeup. “I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You mumble half-heartedly. You're sorry for bothering her, but you're relieved she's not with Stacey.

Her arms are crossed as she stands with her back to the counter, the island between you two. "I'm not interested in that," Shuri says. "What if I hadn't come home tonight? You'd be out there by yourself." She expresses her displeasure, upset by your careless behavior.

You pout. "I wasn't thinking at all. I needed to see you," you confess.

Shuri sighs as she uncrosses her arms. "Can you tell me what happened?"

You put your head in your hands as you recount the night's events, afraid you'll cry again. "You were right. Riri, you, stupid Danielle. Everyone was correct, and I was too dumb to notice."

“He proposed.” You say it directly because you both knew it would happen. That wasn’t the answer she was seeking. She was curious as to why you were here. “Travis proposed, and I refused. I left after yelling at my mother in front of both of our families. I wasn’t thinking about anything.” Your words are mixed together and coming out quickly.

Except for you.

Shuri's body shifts out of your line of sight as she approaches you. A hand wraps around your wrist and pulls it away from your face. "You're not stupid," she says, her eyes sharp. “Don't say anything like that." Then her arms draw you in, and you feel at ease in her embrace. Every fall will be okay if she's there to catch you.

After a moment of holding you there in silence, Shuri speaks, still concerned about your well-being. “I’m going to get something warmer for you to change into,” Shuri says into your skin. You reluctantly allow her to pull away, and she's gone searching for clothes for you, and you're relieved at the prospect of getting this dress off.

Your gaze wanders about the kitchen, looking for something to focus on. The area is spacious, well-equipped, and thoughtfully planned—the appliances, counter, and storage requirements are all carefully arranged. The neatness of it makes you wonder if Shuri knows how to cook. There's a coffee machine on the counter, and you wince at the K-cup assortment.

That’s when you see it—a calendar. Most people would dismiss it as an uninteresting piece of paper that they forget to keep track of constantly, but Shuri's is true to her essence. She kept everything organized and arranged to keep track of the courses and projects she was working on. When you see your name on her schedule, you go over it again and again.

"Library with Y/N." is written in light green every Tuesday. You get to your feet to examine it more closely, your fingers running down the lines of Shuri's handwriting. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you go back a few months. A list of your favorite candies is on the reminders list's side.

You can't take your sight away from the paper when you hear Shuri's footsteps approaching. "Shuri," you begin, and the woman hums, answering your call of her name. “What’s my favorite color?”

Shuri responds immediately. "Green," she answers, effortlessly answering a basic question that the man requesting your hand in marriage couldn't.

In all the conversations you’ve shared, you never told her that. "How did you figure that out?"

“It’s the pen color you use to do your favorite subject. It's the first color gummy bear you reach for, and you always keep them separate. It was the color of your nails when you refused to remove the polish since it was so gorgeous even after it was chipped. It's also the color of the claw clip you sometimes use to hold your hair up." She talks and talks, presenting you with all the information she’s gathered just from observing you over your time spent together, committing every little thing about you to memory.

Her confession causes your lips to part, leaving you speechless for a split second. “You recognized all that?”

Shuri nods before proceeding. "I know you usually grab for the lollipops while reading, and once you finish a complicated question, you eat a piece of chocolate as if it were a reward." Shuri can't stop now that she's started. "I'm aware of all of this because I see you, and you're the first girl ever to steal my breath away." Her monologue does not have a script. Her statements are authentic and heartfelt.

You find you were not the first victim of Cupid's arrow, as he had struck Shuri, who had fallen in love with you before even knowing your name. Mirror hearts with identical puncture marks only beat for each other.

You return a truth of your own as compensation for her bravery. "When he proposed before I responded, I closed my eyes, and it was just you and me. How happy I am with you, the way you make me feel. To feel things I've never felt before because of you is terrifying, but the prospect of never feeling them again is even more so." Nothing could stop the fire from spreading. Shuri's sincerity was the lighter fluid to the sparks that ignited inside your body when you met her.

It all made sense as your world unraveled the second her eyes met hers. The initial encounter enchanted you, and everything following that shattered everything you thought you understood about love.

"I had no idea, Y/N- After all this time-" She pauses, gathering her thoughts, clearly overwhelmed by your confession. You know, when Riri informed me you were dating someone, it hit me hard. I tried not to like you, but the more time we spent together — do you realize how easy you made it to fall for you?"

The delicate expression on her features charms your heart. "Do you realize how effortless it was to fall for you?" you say softly. "I was afraid of the unknown, but this is what I want."

She's in your space; all you can do is lose yourself in her eyes. Everything in her heart is mirrored in her eyes when she looks at you. "Repeat it," she urges.

And you do it because you're no longer afraid. “This is what I want. I want you.” You were meant to be with her. Here and now.

Her hands come up to cup your face, fingertips brushing against the heated cheeks, and your heartbeat quickens. "Shuri," you inhale, staring up through your lashes. It feels lovely to be held. Shuri's heart races against yours; you know the sensation is equal. “Can I kiss you?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper. Shuri leans forward till your forehead is pressed together as you nod yes. Her lips are a deep, scarlet, beautiful, and inviting shade of red.

This is like a scene straight out of a movie. Only it's actually happening to you.

Against what the circumstances presented to you, the two of you had been waiting for this moment since you met. In anticipation, you’re chasing each other. Fingertips touching and lips brushing against each other’s, breathing catching as they become too close. Ignoring her request, you bend in and tenderly press your lips together in an innocent peck. When you separate, you can't stop the giddy feeling that comes over you, and you let out a short giggle.

Shuri smiles at you before leaning in this time, and there, where no one exists around you, Shuri kisses you breathlessly. Your lips move slowly and purposefully together. Neither of you makes an effort to distance yourself, making up for the lost time. All the time you've wasted wishing you could have been together. You don't know if we've been kissing for minutes or hours, but you can't stop yourself. You keep kissing Shuri, and kissing her, and kissing her.

You've never longed to be kissed so badly for so long.

You can feel her muscles tensing. "Y/N," Shuri exhales as she pulls away. She leans against your shoulder, her breathing heavy.

You pull back so you can gaze into her eyes. The shift in the atmosphere made you anxious that she was regretful about kissing you. "What's the matter?"

Shuri massaged the worry from your features using the pads of her thumb. "There is nothing wrong. I'm worried that my impulses are becoming too selfish," she reveals.

This causes a burst of energy to run through your spine. Shuri was considerate and patient with you, willing to repress her desire to ensure your comfort. You could only guess what was going through her mind. "What exactly do you want?" You'd give her everything she wanted, and you're confident that whatever was on her mind, you wanted it just as much.

Shuri gently grasps your chin and turns your head to peer into those dark-brown, hooded eyes. "Tell me," you insist, curious about what scenarios she conjured up in her imagination. “You. I want to witness you fall apart and listen to how pretty you sound when you feel good.” The intensity of your desire for her increases as you surge forward, pressing your lips together once more.

“Please,” you moan into her lips. Her fingers locate the zipper holding your dress up and slide it down. The fabric falls down your shoulders as it loosens over your body.

Shuri gently lifts you in her arms and carefully carries you down to her bedroom. The distinction between sex and making love becomes clear to you that night. Every physical act you two perform is a statement of your passion for each other.

Naked and tangled around each other, Shuri invaded all five of your senses. The taste of her kisses remained on your tongue as you waited for her to emerge from beneath the covers. The fragrance of cardamom, iris, violet, and amber is warm and smokey. The scent you’ve long associated with Shuri is now all you can smell as you toss your head from side to side on the pillow.

Shuri moves at a leisurely pace, indulging you in sensations you've not experienced before her. Clinging to the hand, Shuri has extended upwards towards you while the other hand maintains your thighs apart. Her sounds are wet and obscene as her mouth works between your folds. You're torn between running away from her and bringing yourself down on the face of her precise tongue's ability to dismantle you. Part of your mind tells you that it can't be any better than this as your breath leaves you and your body spasms.

She comes up once she's had enough of the taste of you covering her lips, leaving you sweaty and panting. After grabbing the lubricant, Shuri generously applies it to the strap. One hand wraps around one of your thighs, pulling your leg up on her hip to give her a better angle. Her other hand lines the tip with your opening. "So pretty for me,” Shuri murmurs as she presses forward, entering slowly. That is just one of the numerous compliments she has given you since you began. You're overflowing with emotion as Shuri reaches deep inside of you, and the feeling is one of stretching and warmth.

"Please let me know if it's too much," She breathes as she thrusts her hips, careful not to go too hard for you.

You respond with "Okay," but you don’t care if it is because you find yourself wanting it. Shuri begins to move into you, setting a slow but beautiful pace that has you moaning, and your body shakes. The waves of pleasure have you flinging your head back, a gasp escaping your parted lips, and all the air exiting your lungs. Colors dance behind your eyelids as your fingers fist at the sheets in an attempt to grasp something. Feelings of ecstasy flood your entire body, all the way from your head to your toes. You've never experienced a physical sensation quite like this one, in which you feel utterly attached and entirely overwhelmed.

You press your eyes tight and twist the sheets harder in your hold as Shuri slowly, blissfully, moves inside you. "Open your eyes for me," she pleaded, breath coming out short.

You follow her orders, looking up at her. “You’re making me feel so good,” you find the words to tell her.

As she rotates her hips and moans, your hand grips her shoulder for support, letting the sounds of your pleasure spill out. “My sweet girl, making those beautiful sounds for me. Taking it so well.” She mummers, watching you tremble underneath her.

A palm slides over one of your hands, Shuri tangling your fingers together as she thrusts into you. You grip her fingers tightly, relying on Shuri to keep you connected to her. “Shuri-” you choke out. She eases up, sinking her hips further into yours, wanting you to savor every sensation. Shuri holds your arms above your head with one hand and brushes your hair away from your face with the other.

"Show me how good I'm making you feel." Shuri gives the order. She kisses your lips briefly before shifting away, and you can't stop moaning, shaking in Shuri's grasp as your impending climax consumes you. You gasp as your lips open against Shuri's, and your muscles tense. Shuri continues to drive into you, extending the moment out for you.

It might be one of the best things you’ve ever felt in your life.

Throughout the night, Shuri takes excellent pleasure in extinguishing the never-ending desire in the pit of your stomach.

Perhaps being in someone's home, observing the most private elements of their existence while they slept in the next room, is intrusive. You're seated on the plush carpet, knees to the side. The night sky was aglow with the bright city lights, leaving enough lighting for you to admire the picture frames decorating the mantle closely. You found sleep easily beside Shuri, but it didn’t last long. Your thoughts jolted you awake. You slipped on your panties, and the first thing you could find, which ironically was Shuri’s shirt, quietly slipped out of the bedroom. The couch was the first place you sat down as your leg jumped with anxiety.

There were so many uncertainties that you would need to face—particularly your relationships with your parents and Travis. Your mother would undoubtedly try to salvage whatever remained of the connection with him, but nothing remained. You weren’t going back.

It’s hard not to think of the moments your parents' interference has tainted. Operating in a state of fantasy, obsessed with the thought of having everlasting love with your “high school sweetheart.” Your first kiss, first date, prom. When you look into the eyes of the man you thought you loved, you realize nothing was ever clear. Everything you'd been fed had distorted your mind into a joyful and optimistic state that failed to recognize negative events, resulting in an unrealistic vision of life. Cracks in the memories drained them from the rose color they’d been drowned in.

Your perspective on love is a product of the upbringing you had. You were growing up among what you believed were adoring marriages that turned out to be arranged pairings for selfish reasons. These families are infested with harmful ideals that have been passed down over generations. Their notion of love was longevity and control, how two individuals could generate strength in a world founded on power and greed.

You now see love as a collection of emotions and actions defined by closeness, passion, and commitment. All of which you lacked in your relationship with Travis. All of which your surrounding relationships were unable to develop. People's choices are their own, but you should never let them affect your decisions or life. You were grateful that you wouldn't have to start from a place of hurt and mistrust as you reinterpreted what love and relationships meant to you. Shuri.

Shuri, who feels as strongly about you as you do her. It's nice to have someone who makes you feel special and noticed. You are not the politician's daughter, the ideal girlfriend, or an academic scholar in her eyes. The corners of your lips twitch to be worthy enough to be valued in those magnificent, wondrous eyes. Her smiling face draws your attention to one of the bottom shelves of the bookshelf. You slide onto the floor and sit comfortably in front of the shelves. Careful fingers graze against the cool glass, preserving the original integrity of the photograph.

She is stunning. You remember the first day you met, and you never imagined you'd be here in a shirt that wasn't yours, reflecting on your choices after all these months. Everything in your being, from the cells to the elements, tells you you made the right decision choosing Shuri. When she's near, the visible flesh on your skin rises. When she speaks, your heartbeat quickens. The lips that know how hers taste. The oxygen you lose when she gets too close. You are filled with emotions; you feel so much, but the words can wait. Labeling anything could be too soon and put both of you under undue stress. The only thing that matters right now is you and Shuri.

As your anxieties subside, you look closer at the image, recognizing the late King's T'Challa and T'Chaka. Shuri frequently discusses her brother and father. She admitted to you it was hard in the beginning being avoidant of her grief, and memorializing loved ones who have passed on allows you to sustain connections—celebrating their life and sharing their love, happiness, and long-lasting memories. There's something so lovely about their smiles that shine through the photo that you can't help but move the corners of your lips.

The bedroom door swings open, and anxious footsteps enter. "Y/N," Shuri's nearly panicked calling into the darkness leaves a feeling of remorse in your stomach. You hadn't considered how waking up alone after such an intimate night together would appear to her. Your face flushes as the flashbacks run through your mind.

“My sweet girl, making those beautiful sounds for me. Taking it so well.”

Your face sinks into your hands as if the recollections of the passion you two made together will fade. When your name is called again, you realize, in your temporary anguish, that you never responded to the woman looking for you. "I'm right here," you say softly.

Shuri appears around the corner, and her distorted features relax for a few seconds before concern is written across her expression. "Sorry, I was looking at your pictures," you admit, moving your hand away from the captured scene.

"There's no need for an apology, my dear. I was just nervous when I didn’t see you,” she admits. You frowned. Who knows what would have gone through your mind if you were in Shuri's vulnerable position. Your heart wasn't the only one in danger. Shuri's investment was identical to yours.

It must have hurt her to see you depart yesterday morning, knowing you were going to come back engaged. You're curious if she's envisioned a life for the two of you and can’t imagine the pain of looking into the eyes of someone you wished to have a future with but knew it wasn't possible.

"Are you feeling okay?" Shuri questions. The air in the distance is timid, and the other woman takes her time to assess the situation before approaching. Your lips part to convince her that you're fine, but no words come out, and the room fills with a sigh.

You settle for an explanation for your absence from the mattress you were tangled in only hours before. “I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to disturb your rest,” you say sincerely. If you stayed in bed, you'd be rustling the sheets, tossing, and turning.

"You could never disturb me," Shuri says with a slight grin.

"Even when I show up unannounced at your house and force you to end your date early?" Normally, humor relieves tension, but Shuri is unimpressed, most likely because of the indirect reference to Stacey. "It was a joke," you clarify.

Shuri squats down to look you in the eyes as she states, "It wasn't amusing, but even then. You could never bother me." Her words are simple but comforting.

Another thought occurred to you. "Did you expect me to come back?"

Shuri takes a seat next to you on the carpet, sensing you'll be here for a while. Her gaze goes to the kitchen, where you'd expressed those feelings you'd both battled to hide. “Truthfully, no. Still, I had hope." Her honesty is so heartbreaking that it makes you pause for a moment. There are so many things to wish for in this lifetime, and she decided on a wish for you. Shuri had a glimmer of hope for something that appeared hopeless.

"Did you think of us?" you wondered.

The questions continue to pour in, but Shuri is ready to respond without hesitation. “It’s impossible not to see you and let my mind wander to what it would be like if you were mine. Even when it appeared to be impossible."

Her words pierce your soul. She had been waiting for you. You have no control over falling in love. Nobody can prepare for the moment, but it's worth every risk when someone breathes fresh life into you and makes you feel alive again. Shuri's intense gaze assures you that the chance of harm is nonexistent. Your heart is safe.

You crawl over to Shuri, who’s prepared to accept you into her space. "Thank you for holding out hope for both of us," you say face to face. "I believe the universe has heard you." People talk about the romantic notion that there is someone for everyone, and Shuri is that someone for you. The bond between you and Shuri is something you have faith in.

"I'm just thankful that my dreams are becoming a reality." Shuri leans in to kiss your nose, and you can't stop the childlike giggle that escapes. "Mine, too," you say, contentment washing over you.

Silence follows as you and Shuri share a mutual gaze. You are captivated by the beautiful features of the woman. She probably thinks the same thing as you; I’m falling in love.

The longer you stare, the heavier your eyes grow. A yawn escapes you unintentionally, and Shuri chuckles. "I think you should go back to sleep." Now that the thoughts plaguing your mind from sleep dispersed in the wake of your lover coming to put them to rest, it was time for you to get back in bed.

Shuri extends her hand to yours after standing, and you accept it. As you feel the weight of her palm in yours, an overpowering feeling sweeps over you. The warmth of your love glows in the dark, the quiet of the night. You’re in disbelief that you almost gave this up, but part of you realizes fate wouldn’t have allowed the two of you to part. Shuri came into your life at the precise moment before you began serving a sentence of eternal misery. If the circumstances had their way, you weren’t supposed to be here.

Fate intervened just as you were about to surrender to the cards dealt to you. Regardless of place, time, or circumstance, two human beings linked by the red thread are destined lovers. This mystical chain may extend and tangle, but it can never break. The idea that you were both was made perfect for each other makes your chest swell.

The traffic light outside briefly flashed a red glare against the window. Shuri's hand draws your attention to her. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

“Huh?” Your eyes mirrored the depth of your heart's commitment and adoration, and you didn't even realize it.

Shuri's eyes are firmly fixed on you. “You’re tearing up, my love,” her thumbs quickly caress the fallen droplets from your cheeks.

The lack of sleep lessens the control you have over yourself. Instead of responding immediately, you collapse into Shuri's arms, and a wave of calm washes over you. You are encased in the only embrace that has ever shown you peace and security. "I'm fine, and it's only. You make me very happy.”

Lips gently press on your temple. Shuri wastes no time responding, “I'm just as happy, if not happier, because of you.” The sentiment fills you with pride. All you want is to make Shuri happy. To love her, and you can now, here, and forever.

You pick up your head to surge forward, connecting your lips, and Shuri melts into your touch. It’s still new for both of you, being able to act on emotions you’ve kept hidden, never suppressed. Even as time passes, you don’t think you’ll get used to the effects Shuri holds over you. No matter how long you live this lifetime together, you'll never stop falling for the one who had wished for your heart.

#cai fics #re upload #I ADDED MORE #shuri x reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri fic #shuri fluff #shuri fanfiction #shuri udaku #shuri of wakanda #shuri x you #shuri smut #black panther shuri #mcu shuri #princess shuri #shuri black panther #i think i got them all #i never know what to tag #Spotify

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wayfayrr · 9 months

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aaaaaaahhh all i can think of is like- most isekai fics I've seen for some reason [i mean understandably] the reader is wearing their pajamas, but after visiting the modern world they can finally show the chain what they actually like wearing, [i can see this going in so many ways, depending on who is reacting, and especially depending on what aesthetic the reader likes to dress in. for the sake of the request ill keep it as dark academia, cause i love it so muchhhh [not so much in the summer, but i make it work lol] with time? [just imagining reader with a tie and just wearing business casual w a trenchcoat frrrrrrrr- might draw this kind of thing and send it to you lol]

Anon I hope you know this ask had me in an absolute chokehold. OUJDFNBJNF ✨I LIVE FOR DARK ACADEMIA AESTHETICS!!!✨ My trenchcoat is one of my favourite things I own. So I get your pain in summer as well 🥹

“Hey Time, have you seen Wild anywhere? He borrowed my laptop and I really need it back.”

“I haven’t sorry [nam]-... Is that what you wear normally? You look incredible.”

“Pretty much, yeah? Why, is there an issue with it?”

Time’s blushing. Is what I’m wearing really that impressive because I know he’s not blushing over what I’m wearing being revealing. A trenchcoat that goes down to my calves with the rest of my clothes? Does he just think I’m attractive or something?

“No, no issue. You look good in it, it’s just very different to what you arrived in Hyrule wearing.”

“I know, like I said then those were my pyjamas. These are my casual clothes.”

Well, his blush has only gotten worse from that, so he is clearly struggling with how my clothes look on me. Dark academia doesn’t exist in Hyrule I know that, but really he’s struggling far more than anyone else has with my fashion sense.

“Do you think you could help me choose some clothes like that? I’d like to match wit.. I think that style would suit me.”

“If you’d like, we can go shopping for you later. After I get my laptop back and finish off this report I have due.”

Laughing at how he's stumbling over himself to ask me these questions simply isn't an option, no matter how hard it is to hold myself back. He's asking so genuinely and so sweetly and who knows maybe getting some new clothes could help him adjust to this world more easily, I mean it certainly helped me when I was in Hyrule. How different could it be for time?

It didn't take too long to find wild after talking to time, and even less to finish off the work I had to do, now it’s just down to taking time shopping.

“So you want to look like you belong with a shot of espresso in an artisanal coffee shop while writing a research paper?”

“I only know what half of those words mean [name.], even less with how you’re using them.”

“Right, sorry. I’m still getting used to all of the differences in our cultures. Hopefully, you’ll get more used to the terms we use here sooner rather than later. Ready to go out though?”

“I am, it’ll be nice to get some new clothes. Not that I’m complaining about the excuse to wear yours.”

The nearest place that sells things like these isn’t exactly the closest to where I live, making it the perfect opportunity to adjust Time to my world’s transport. Well, more than he’s already seen anyway. Actually, now that I’m thinking about this, what size clothing even is he? Not that it’s an issue but not knowing a vague size is gonna mean he’s going to have to try on a lot of different fits. Then finding the right colours for him is a whole different challenge… And we’re already here… Time to find out the answers to those questions of mine.

“Where would you like to start?”

“A coat exactly like yours perhaps?”

“I don’t see why not. Any colour in mind or just the same style?”

A shrug was NOT what I wanted as an answer, but he does know what he wants which means that I’ve got somewhere to start. Trench Coats are somewhat pricey but with how some of the others are chipping in towards living costs now there’s no issue with spending out occasionally. He seems to be gravitating more towards things that are similar to mine, isn’t that charming? He sees something he likes on me then decides that’s what he wants for himself hopefully, he just stays away from the expensive ones.

“You ready to try those on then, old man?”

“Just a moment more love, I can’t find quite the right colour yet.”

He just… How red is my face right now? It has to be crimson, doesn’t it? That’s the first time Time’s ever called me something like that naturally it’s when he’s looking at clothes like my own, is he trying to kill me with his charms?

#starting uni soon and you can guess what my aesthetic will be #It doesn't help the place I'm likely going fits it so well #links✦react #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #moss✦answers #lu time

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alovesreading · 7 months

Note

any fic recs? like fics you just cant live without other people reading?

okay i might not be the best person to ask this because i'm writing two long series at this moment and i barely have time to properly read fics like i used to but i can defo give you a little list of recommendations!

when you say fics i can't live without other people reading, Nothing Revealed In A Common Crisis by my wonderful and incredibly talented best friend @imagine-that-100 is the first to come to my mind! An absolute masterpiece of a fic, alex turner x reader x matty healy love triangle that's just so well written and thought out that it makes me scream. I'm entirely obsessed with it and it truly is my roman empire LOL! (it also introduced me to the 1975 so we love it!)

make sure to check out the rest of N's work fr, all of her series are amazing and if you want one shots, Will We Talk is insanely good and I'm eager for her to post part 3 and All Is On My Side is everything to me as well!

of course, i have to add Aphasia by another one of my besties @red---moon 'cause that fic is just so damn good. I will be forever obsessed with the way Red writes and her characterisation is just so raw and real, it's genuinely inspiring. also if you want some george x reader x matty brainrot, her one shot Indecision is surely gonna drive you mad.

another one of my incredible best friends, @kennedy-brooke put out her first fic Dress which has a part 1 and part 2 and it's so fucking good, I think every George girlie needs to read ASAP!!!!

if you wanna indulge in some fun and really well fucking written gatty content, i have to send you over to read everything @vinylandcoffeecollection has out! In particular, The Cellophane House and its sequel Lost Boys had me in shambles and I loved it so much!!! Another gatty legend is @drinkurkombucha and i would defo recommend all of her work! my favourites will forever be Talking To George and Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction!

i fell in love with a Ross fic i read the other day by @butyou-callmewhenyourebored and i think it deserves more attention. i fully was almost crying by the end of it, it was so sweet and well written!!!

now if you need filthy smut to read, i will definitely be sending you over to @lottiecrabie! she is the absolute queen of smut and everything she has written has left me jaw dropped and gasping for air lollllll!!! (such a shame she's leaving but she will never be forgotten)

also Three's A Party by @abiiors!!! jesus christ almighty, when i tell you i died reading this, i mean it. pure ross x reader x george brainrot.

another one that had me gagged was Satiate by @heavenhealy! that fic had me sweating and screeching like an idiot.

and for the last filthy one that comes to my mind it is @toomuchracket one shot inspired by politician!matty that truly ended my life in the best way when i read it the other day.

let me end this all in a wholesome cute note and put you on dad!matty because Playing On My Mind by @ughgoaway has me in a chokehold and the little extras they have been posting have me swooning and wanting to die for dilf matty!

it's fair to say that this fandom is filled with talent and i have too little time to properly indulge in all the great pieces everyone puts out so this list is way too short! but i hope you enjoy this messy but great list lol!!!! i really hope that by the time i'm done with the long series i'm currently writing, i can read much more and actually give a longer and more organised list. hope this helps anyway!!

#A's asks #can you tell i suck at shutting up #went on a rant for no reason #lmfao i hate my brain #much love to everyone in this list tho!#amazing talented people all around!!

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wannab-urs · 3 months

Text

Pedro Pascal Character Fanfiction Recs | Vol 32

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy folks!

Welcome to The Spreadsheet Digest, my weekly(ish) fic rec list. I read a really long fic this week, so almost everything else I read was a one shot that I kinda crammed in between chapters of the long fic. We have a pretty good variety of pedro boys this week! I'm actually running low on one shots on my TBR, it's full of series. So rec me some one shots!

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

Fic Recs Below!

Somewhere Beautiful

Din series by @peetiespetals

Summary: You have been working as a slave since the demise of your people and destruction of your planet. A stranger passes through your life and you make a bid for freedom, thwarted by the very man who inspired you to reach for it. In a twist of fate, the two of you are thrown together and must learn how to live with each other as the lines between slave and master begin to blur. Can you really tell the difference between duty and devtion?

Tags: smut, fluff and smut, angst, rough sex, bdsm, abandonment, neglect, physical abuse, love stories, shower sex, mutual masturbation, dom/sub undertones, oral sex, shameless smut, praise kink, bondage, biting, slow burn, spanking, orgasm control, orgasm delay/denial, cock warming, master/slave, vaginal fingering, deep throating, breast worship, pussy spanking, ball play, public creampie, edging, anal sex, foot jobs, handcuffs, cock bondage, panties in mouth, aftercare, jealous din djarin, hurt/comfort, overstimulation, strong female characters, hurt no comfort, porn with plot, sexual tension, porn with feelings, canon typical violence, slow romance, fluff and angst, anxiety, manhandling, pov second person, vaginal sex, nipple play, dirty talk, hair pulling

Thots: this fic had me in a chokehold all fucking week and then when I finished it I immediately started part two. Obsessed.

Take What You Need

Frankie one shot by @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Frankie needs to calm down before flying you "over the fucking Andes, man," so you help him out

Tags: SMUT. Porn with a flimsy nod to plot.

Thots: Redfly is such a dick. but anyway, I love this concept. reader providing some much needed stress relief? yes please. And it was HOT. I love this so much

I cannot get you close enough

Max Phillips one shot by @leslie-lyman

Summary: “You have to invite me in, sweetheart.” Oh. Right. Vampire. “Come in, please,” you say demurely, and Max’s smile widens as he steps over the threshold into your apartment. He reaches for you again immediately, kicking your door closed and pulling you close. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “Such a polite little Omega.”

Tags: A/B/O dynamics; one small scene of men being creepy and threatening towards reader (but, perhaps surprisingly, one of those men is not Max); extremely self-indulgent Halloween costumes on the part of your author; a bit of angst; fEeLiNgS; absolutely way too much plot and character backstory for what was supposed to just be porn; Alpha!Max is his own warning; heat sex; biting; blood-drinking; breeding kink; many, many creampies; Max has an absolutely filthy mouth; look, it’s heat sex with Max, it probably (hopefully?) entails exactly what you think it does

Thots: I think this my favorite pedro fandom abo ever. it’s so fucking good. i love how max takes care of her like a good alpha, but it's not completely mired in shitty omega stereotypes. She still has a whole career and a life and hobbies and shit. Plus the smut is top fucking tier good god.

Chaste

Dieter one shot by @covetyou

Summary: Off the back of a two week retreat to the middle of fuck knows where Dieter Bravo doesn't seem quite himself. You soon figure out why.

Tags: chastity pollen (the opposite of sex pollen - our man can't fuck), mention of past drug use, masturbation, not phone sex but phone sex adjacent, brief mention of Dieter pissing (twice), cock and ball pain (not cock and ball torture), a brief thing with a glove that isn't sexy at all for anyone involved but it's there, the vaguest of dub-con for the ending (Dee sends you pictures of his dick that you didn't ask for/technically said no to but jerk off to anyway)

Thots: This had me dying. It was funny as fuck. Poor Dee... but then the end... that shit was hot in like a totally pathetic way... This came off that list of reverse fandom tropes, and now I want to see more of them.

illicit affairs

Joel one shot by @chaotic-mystery

Summary: it’s my take on what illicit affairs means. Every time I listened to it I imagined Joel, specifically dbf Joel. I hope the swifties go *easy* on me and pls don’t say anything if you didn’t like it.

Tags: angst. And more angst. Swearing, forbidden relationship, arguing, fwb, alluded age gap but not specified. Use of nicknames (kid, baby……don’t look at me ok I didn’t do IT), reader is not physically described, no use of y/n.

Thots: Mads broke my heart with this one. Joel is such a dick, expecting reader to just put up with the shitty treatment because why? because she's young? Fuck him and good for reader. I kinda wanna see Joel's internal struggle for the next few weeks after this scene.

Was it all a dream?

Din series by @beskarandblasters

Summary: You’ve always had vivid dreams, an escape from your monotonous life. But one night, something appears in your dreams that keeps reoccurring; a pair of brown eyes. Or Two people, in completely different parts of the galaxy, find each other in their dreams and try to make sense of the strange connection they share.

Tags: canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), switches between Reader and Din’s POV, story takes place in the dream realm and the real world, set somewhere between the Book of Boba Fett/very beginning of season three, eventual smut (starts at chapter 4!), line between reality and dreams gets blurred, use of Mando’a words and phrases, no use of y/n

Thots: I could not be more excited for this series. It's a brilliant idea and it's so fucking cool. I love reader and Din's relationship. I love the parallels between them. I'm so ready to hype this fic up for the next several weeks AGH.

Trigger Points

Ezra one shot by @whataperfectwasteoftime

Summary: Ezra is a massage therapist. What kind, you ask? Internal massage. That’s it that’s the fic.

Tags: Medical kink, massage kink (is that a thing?), erotic massage, mentions of sexual dysfunction and difficulty orgasming, consent forms, the clinical is erotic now, power imbalance due to the masseur/patient dynamic, mentions of uhhh *checks notes* anal massage, lots of vaginal fingering I mean massaging, pelvic floor massaging but make it erotic, dubcon only in the sense that Ezra says orgasm is not the goal and then definitely deliberately gives her one anyway, g-spot orgasms, squirting, Penny gets on her soapbox at the end

Thots: i think i might have a masseuse kink... anyways... there's something about the overly clinical language that made this so hot. like the lack of trying to make it sexy somehow made it sexier. i'm short circuiting

forever is the sweetest con

Joel series by sistersadeyes (AO3)

Summary: your life, post-apocalypse, and the surly old survivor who darkens your door. Growing up with a doomsday prepper as a father hadn't been easy. But after the Outbreak, you can't help but feel a little grateful to the old man. You're almost sad he didn't make it long enough to see how right he'd been. You inherit the farm, the stockpile, and the bunker months before the Outbreak. And in the aftermath, you use it to prove that human kindness still exists, helping all those you can. Set 5 years after the Outbreak.

Tags: no use of y/n, fluff, domestic fluff, romance, eventual romance, post outbreak, eventual smut, texas, homesteading, doomsday prepper, age difference (14ish years), fluff and angst, canon typical violence, canon divergent/not canon compliant, smut, pining, mutual masturbation, mutual pining, vague timeline, time jumps, forehead kisses, fingerfucking, oral sex, penis in vagina sex, praise kink, sir kink, breeding kink if you squint, emotional hurt/comfort, protective joel, angst, vaginal fingering, daddy kink, possessive joel, somnophilia, consensual somnophilia, cowgirl position, creampie

Thots: This fic made me cry tears of pure joy at the end. It's so sweet and precious and full of domestic fluff. But there's also some fucking heartwrenching angst. And really fucking cool action too??? It's a total rewrite of canon and I thought it was super fucking creative and so fun to read. The smut is also... good fucking god is it hot. Joel is perfect in this fic.

go slow

Joel one shot by @frannyzooey

Summary: In the quiet of your bedroom, Joel guides you through it.

Tags: riding, joel talks you through it, p in v sex

Thots: Hot, sensual, perfect, amazing smut.

Honor and Obey

Frankie/Santi/Reader one shot by @magpiepills

Summary: You are Santi’s wife and when Frankie moves in, you have an idea that Santi helps you make a reality.

Tags: SMUT! Threesome, sort of fucking, oral m and f receiving, m/m dynamics, sort of dom reader, sort of sub Frankie and Santi, Frankie is the Pussy Eating King, big dicks, teasing, flirting, mentions of alcohol, mentions of curls, fuck licking, cum shots, creampies, a little overstimulation, one spank, pwp, just porn.Y'all know I love my subby boys... and I really love a MMF threesome.

Thots: This fic had me sweating. Frankie and Santi are so gorgeous together. Pussy Eating King Frankie is always a welcome addition to any Frankie fic, also. Just fucking magnificent, truly.

Blessing in Disguise

Lucien Flores one shot by @pedgito

Summary: you're his best-friend's daughter and he's at a party he can't be bothered to care about, luckily you're the one thing that catches his attention.

Tags: no use of y/n, age gap (not specified, but it's girthy) smoking, semi-public sex, daddy kink, f!oral, unprotected piv, light choking, mentions of reader having hair that can be grabbed (to some degree), lucien is a major dilf and divorced

Thots: I am astronomically down bad for lucien flores. It's giving latino dbf!joel. Every single second of this fic is hot. I need a cold shower. and a nap. and maybe a cigarette. Maybe Luce will share one with me. I hope he smokes spirits.

My Recent Fics

Ravage - smut | AO3 - Ezra x f!reader

Type: one shot Word Count: 1.6k Summary: “Oh birdie… I could just eat you.” OR Saltburn-style hate as consumption Tags: Weird vibes, period/menstruation smut, bloodplay and blood consumption, weird classism stuff, biting, fingering, oral f!receiving, Saltburn AU

Only Good Girls - smut | AO3 - Dave x f!reader

Type: one shot Word Count: 1.3k Summary: Dave reminds you why you should always be a good girl for him. Tags: PWP/plot what plot, Reader has hair that can be pulled; fingering f receiving; squirting; multiple orgasms; overstimulation; choking; rough sex as punishment; unprotected p in v; mirror sex; bondage (necktie around the wrists behind the back); toaster strudel not a twinkie; excessive hair pulling; spanking

Happy Reading!

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

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stardustbarbarians · 7 months

Text

Dial Drunk

A Samuel Kiszka / Daniel Wagner fic

Tags: angst disguised as humor, drinking, getting arrested, sam-centric

Trigger Warnings: implied alcoholism

A/N: Hi guys I swear I'm alive. Good Omens just has me in a goddamn chokehold rn. Anyway, I recently became obsessed with Noah Kahan and so this is the result. Cover made by the incomparable @ofthecaravel (thank you, Karou <3). Title from Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan (once again, not required, but I highly encourage you listen to it). Enjoy!

Words: 4.5 k

+++

I'll dial drunk, I'll die a drunk, I'll die for you

Sam was sloshed. And wasn’t that just the understatement of the century. He’d stumbled into this bar after the other one had kicked him out yelling something about him needing to stop causing a ruckus. It didn’t matter.

What did matter was that the alcohol flowing through his veins was encouraging him to make the worst of decisions. His brain had long been soaked in tequila, taking close to ten plus shots over the course of the night.

“Another,” he slurred out, slamming his empty glass on the bar to alert the bartender. He realized that he couldn’t focus his eyes on the man and something in the back of his mind told him that was cause for concern. Another shot would shut it up.

“No, son. I’m cutting you off,” the bartender informed him sternly. At least, that’s what Sam thought he said.

“I don’ CARE. Gimme ANOTHER,” Sam yelled, slamming the empty glass so hard onto the bar that it made the ice inside fly out and onto the floor.

The bartender made for the glass, saying something about shattering it and getting Sam hurt. Sam, despite his sluggish brain, was able to yank it away and out of reach.

“NO!!”

The barman huffed and made another attempt at reaching for the glass Sam was holding. He pulled back even further to get out of the man’s reach only to find himself falling flat on his back onto the floor.

“Yeah, you’ve had enough,” the patron on Sam’s right had declared. She got up from her stool and plucked the glass from his hand, Sam too stunned to try and fight her.

The drunk slowly picked himself up off the floor, heavily relying on the arm the woman who took his glass offered. She was a burly woman, probably worked on the assembly line in the auto plant right down the road. She easily hoisted him up, Sam being about as heavy as a boiled noodle.

The young man slurred out what he thought was a thank you, but it came out as more of a “thaa-oo” than actual words.

Sam, still leaning on the woman without realizing it, locked eyes with the barman. “More.”

“No. You’re done. If you’d like me to pour you a glass of water, I’d be more than happy to.” The man lifted his chin up just a bit, crossing his arms over his chest.

It finally seemed to get through the sea of tequila that was Sam’s brain that he’d been cut off. Well, he understood that this gentleman was no longer serving him. And nothing as trivial as one person would stop him from getting what he wanted.

Finally, he pulled away from the woman he was leaning against and rounded the opening in the bar. Unfortunately for Sam, this particular barman had guessed that would be his next move the minute he formulated the plan in his mind. However, he wasn’t fast enough. Sam was able to round the bar, but ran right into the bartender. Sam was hardly fazed, making a reach for one of the bottles of tequila behind the man.

“If you don’t quit it, I will throw you out,” the bartender warned, pushing Sam’s arm down. He wouldn’t quit, trying to move past the annoying man to get his desired drink.

“C’mon, man!” Sam was rapidly becoming more frustrated, his attempts becoming increasingly more violent. He eventually planted both of his palms onto the man’s chest and shoved him back. He stumbled a step or two but was able to recover, using his forearm to pin Sam against the bar. It hurt as it pressed into the small of his back, his arms attempting to shove the unwanted touch off of him.

“Call 911 and tell them we’ve got a reckless drunk here,” the bartender ordered, looking at the woman who helped Sam to his feet. Sam was vaguely aware that his end goal was coming to fruition, but he was too preoccupied with screaming at the bartender to “get off me” and shoving his arm off.

It was within the blink of an eye that Sam was being yanked from his shirt off the bar. He came face to face with the man he recognized as the bouncer.

“Get a grip, man,” his deep voice growled out. Sam, whose brain was long past thinking through his actions, did probably the stupidest thing he could’ve.

“Get OFF!!” he roared before rearing back and punching the man in the face. He stumbled back a few steps, nursing his jaw. But most importantly, he released the grip he held on Sam’s shirt.

He took the opportunity and bolted for the door. Unfortunately for Sam, other patrons in the bar had begun to take notice of the massive disturbance he was causing. As he made for the exit, about four people took action and tackled him to the ground. He attempted fighting back, only to find himself completely pinned to the floor.

“Take him outside,” the bouncer ordered from somewhere behind Sam. He felt hands strongly grasp him by the shoulders and pinning his hands behind him as he was marched out the front door. He tried to thrash against the hold on him, but it was no use. He was completely restrained. When they reached it, Sam was pushed forward out the swinging door.

“Thanks, guys. I’ve got it from here,” the bouncer announced. The hands left his arms and shoulders. However, he wasn’t able to make an escape like he wished. Instead, he felt a tight grip on his shirt from behind him. He wasn’t getting anywhere.

Sam was forcefully sat down on the curb, that hand on his shirt never leaving. He attempted running a few times, but each time he was yanked back violently. After the third time, he’d given up when he scraped his elbow on the rain-slick concrete. Since when did he get woozy at the sight of blood?

“You ain’t going nowhere until the cops take you away for punching me, you son of a bitch,” the bouncer spat, using the hold on Sam to yank him back once more. He sat on the curb, the cold of the rain sinking through the thin material of his shirt and seeping into his skin. He had to keep wiping the rain off his face, droplets trickling down his skin. His breath ghosted out of his mouth with each exhale, a chill long since setting into his bones.

It wasn’t long until Sam saw the lights in the distance, the wailing of the sirens following quickly after. The cruiser with “sheriff” painted along the door pulled up right next to the entrance, an officer stepping out a moment later. That’s when the reality of the situation sunk in for him.

When he finally looked up into the face of the policeman - having difficulty with the bright lights burning his retinas - Sam groaned. Could his luck have been any worse?

“Samuel,” the officer greeted, a cold amusement in his tone. He had his arms crossed over his chest, a corner of his mouth twitched upwards. It was hard to see behind his large mustache, but right as rain, it was there.

“Deputy Russell,” Sam grumbled, a pained look on his face.

“How come when we got the call for a drunk and disorderly I knew you’d be the one waiting for me at the bar?” Deputy Russell towered over Sam from his involuntary seat on the curb, the latter having to crane his neck in order to look at him.

Sam buried his head in his hands, groaning loudly. He felt like a scolded toddler after breaking a window. Except, this was significantly worse.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ve just got a crush on me, Alexander,” Sam managed to say relatively comprehensively. He even managed a pretty charming smile.

That earned him a laugh from the policeman, albeit a small one. Still, it gave Sam hope that he’d go easy on him.

“You’re not my type, Sam,” Russell lightly commented, his attention turning away from him to the bouncer, “Alright, tell me what he did this time.” He produced a small flipbook and pen from his brown rain jacket that had light brown piping along the arms and his badge embroidered onto the left breast pocket.

The bouncer launched into a lengthy account of the events of the night; how Sam became increasingly violent as people tried to stop him. He became a lot more animated when he got to the part where Sam socked him.

“...And that’s when we dragged his sorry, skinny ass outside. He tried making a break for it a few times, but he never got away,” the bouncer finished, his hand never leaving Sam’s shirt. It was probably going to be permanently stretched at that point. That’s not even mentioning the crimson staining the fabric from the injury on his elbow. Pity, Sam liked this shirt.

With a sigh, Deputy Russell finished taking his notes on the bouncer’s story. “Did he manage to hit anyone else?”

“You’d have to ask Jerry about that one. I only intervened when he went behind the bar,” the bouncer answered.

There was a deep-seated look of disappointment that had crept onto his face as the bouncer went further and further into his account of the night. The deputy scribbled something else down on his paper before flipping it closed.

“Arlight, Sam. You know the drill,” the deputy sighed in a resigned tone as he removed the cuffs from his belt.

He knew this part was coming. It was what he was hoping for.

“Breaking out the cuffs tonight? Awww, Alexander, what’s the occasion?” Sam teased. He rose up from his spot on the curb; or, at least, he tried to. The bouncer still had his hand fisted in Sam’s shirt and he ended up nearly falling onto his face if it weren’t for Deputy Russell’s lightning-fast reflex to grab Sam by the shoulders.

“You’ve proven that you can’t be trusted,” Russell grunted, righting Sam on his feet before twirling him around.

The metal of the cuffs was cold as they dug into the skin of his wrists. It didn’t help the chill that had nestled into his bones at all. The noise as they snapped into place was a unique one - a cross between a snap and a creak - and one that was not unfamiliar to Sam.

“Hope you rot in that cell,” the bouncer spat as he watched the young man get loaded into the back of the patrol car.

“And that shiner looks real cute on you. I can give you another one as soon as I’m out, sweetheart!”

“I didn’t hear that,” Deputy Russell firmly stated, accentuating his point with the slam of the car door. It wasn’t that he was trying to get Sam out of trouble, he just didn’t want to add another charge atop his mountains of assault paperwork he would have to file in the incident report.

+++

“Samuel Kiszka… I should’ve known it was you,” someone drawled from within the precinct. Sam knew that voice all too well.

“You owe me a twenty, Alice,” Deputy Russell yelled as he hauled Sam inside.

Sheriff Alice Langston was the best Sheriff the county had seen since 1967. She wasn’t a strict by-the-book woman, but knew when someone deserved some leeway and when they deserved the wrath of God. She was in her mid fifties, gray streaking her black hair that was always pulled back into a very professional bun. Smile lines had creased themselves besides her dark brown eyes along with the ridges in her forehead.

“You thought someone else was being an annoying drunk?? Alice, I am deeply hurt…” Sam joked, his face pulling into a look of fake offense. He was rather good at acting and perhaps in another life he would’ve pursued a life on the stage rather than attempting to break the local record of most arrests before 30 years of age.

“What can I say, I’m an optimist,” she replied to Sam before turning to her deputy, “what did he do this time?”

“The usual. Drank himself stupid until someone tried to stop him and got violent,” Deputy Russell recounted, a wariness in his voice that came with months of dealing with Sam’s tiring behavior.

Sheriff Langston put her hands on her hips and shook her head. A sigh that originated deep within her bones escaped her lips. “When is this going to stop, Sam?”

Sam just shrugged his shoulders. “When I’m dead, perhaps.”

The sheriff placed a hand on her forehead, her fingers rubbing at her temples. Sam knew how much of a pain he was to the local law enforcement and underneath all of his heartache, Sam was sorry for it. But, it was the only way he could have a valid excuse for calling him. So he wasn’t going to stop until Sam finally got his ex back.

“Lock him up,” Sheriff Langston ordered her deputy with a sigh.

“Wait, wait. Don’t I get my phone call first?” Sam frantically asked, his head whipping around back and forth in order to try and get a better look at Deputy Russell who was behind him. It made his head spin even more and increased his feeling of nausea, his stomach churning aggressively and making Sam want to keel over.

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” Langston informed as she made her way to her office.

“That’s not fair!! I want my one call!” Sam screamed, attempting to wriggle away from the deputy’s grasp on his arms. It wasn’t as effective as he hoped given the fact that he could hardly walk unassisted and was about one sharp movement away from vomiting all over the carpet of the precinct… again.

“And I want a million dollars. We don’t all get what we want, Kiszka,” Deputy Russell grunted as he moved Sam towards the holding cells.

Sam was uncuffed before he was pushed into a holding cell, the door slamming behind him with a resounding finality. It echoed off the walls of the holding area, making the pounding in Sam’s head worsen.

“Can I at least get a towel or something?? I’m gonna die of hypothermia at this rate,” Sam pleaded, his hands wrapped around the bars and pressing his face in the space between them.

With an eye roll dramatic enough to win him a Tony award, Deputy Russell turned on his heel and disappeared out of the hold cell area and down a hallway that Sam had never been down. A few minutes later, he reappeared with a beach towel in his hand.

“Thank y-” his gratitude was cut short with the towel being thrown in his face. Sam, in his drunken state, fumbled the folded cloth for a moment before he secured it in his hands. He was just thankful he managed to grab it before it touched the floor. He knew firsthand how fucking disgusting the floors of these cells were. And considering his shoes were sticking to the floor, he’d rather not let the thing he wanted to wipe his face with touch it.

He unfolded it without ceremony. He had to laugh at the fact that Ariel was featured prominently on it. The towel was probably one that came from Russell’s personal locker, one he probably took from home. He had a daughter who was now in her teens; Sam had seen pictures and heard stories from Russell about her. Sweet kid. Brilliant.

Sam threw the towel over his head and began scrubbing his hair, the droplets dripping off the strands and down the skin of his face and back had been driving him crazy since he was thrown in the patrol car. Next he patted his body down, knowing it was nearly futile as he was soaked to the bone. Once he was done with that, he threw his hair up into a towel tie, thankful the wretched stuff was off his neck. He liked how long his hair had grown - to the middle of his back - but it was certainly a pain to maintain.

“So. Just us again, huh?” Sam asked Deputy Russell after he’d finished toweling off.

“Yes, considering god hates me,” the officer grumbled under his breath.

“Awww, I’m not that bad."

The glare that the deputy threw at him was deadly. Maybe he wasn’t as much of a loveable nuisance as he’d thought.

“Tell you what. I’ll cut you a deal,” Sam began, his hands back around the bars as he got as close to the deputy as his enclosure would allow him.

“Because you’re in a position to negotiate,” Russell laughed, the sound bordering humorless. He’d taken his hat and rain jacket off at that point. One of his hands had come up to his face to fiddle with his mustache, a habit he tended to enact while he was idle.

“You give me my phone call and I’ll keep my mouth shut for the rest of the night,” Sam continued, ignoring the deputy’s comment.

“Not happening, Sam.” Deputy Russell’s voice was stern, the words a finality.

“I’ll praise the flag-”

“Nope.”

“I’ll kiss your badge-”

“No.”

“I’ll change my fucking faith-”

“Nice try.”

“Man, why?? Why the hell won’t you let me call anybody??” Sam whined, going so far as to stomp his foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Though, to be fair to the toddlers, they sounded far more mature than Sam just had.

“Because,” the deputy began slowly, his patience already wearing thin, “Sheriff Langston said so.”

With another frustrated stomp of his foot, Sam groaned petulantly. It wasn’t fair! He always got his phone call and all of the sudden they just cut him off??

“That’s not a valid reason and you know it, Alex!”

“It is fair.”

“How?? ‘Because I said so’ is the answer you give to a child!”

“Well,” the deputy leaned forward in his chair, hands clasped together as he rested his elbows on his knees, “maybe if you started to act like an adult, I’ll treat you like one.”

Sam groaned in frustration, hitting his head on one of the bars in front of him.

“You know I’m just going to keep asking until I get what I want.” It was very much a threat thinly veiled as a promise.

“Oh, I know.” The deputy turned his attention away from his prisoner and onto a book he just pulled out of one of the desk drawers. Sam only got a glimpse of the cover and in his drunken state it took him a lot longer to process the two word title: Good Omens.

Well, if Sam was anything, he was a man of his word.

Taking a deep breath, Sam began singing. “Baby shark, doo-doo-do-doo-doo-doo…”

This went on for about twenty minutes - Sam singing Baby Shark on loop - and he had to admit he was impressed. The deputy had put up a pretty good resistance, but Sam was nothing if not a stubborn bastard.

“FINE!! YOU WIN!!” Russell yelled, his hands unclamping from his ears to ball into fists onto the desk.

Sam ceased his singing, a victorious smile spreading across his lips. It didn’t fall in the slightest as he was yanked out of the cell and put back in handcuffs.

The deputy maneuvered the criminal towards the payphone that hung on the far wall of the precinct. It was an ancient thing, probably having not been replaced since the mid 70s. There were marks all over it in multiple colors of Sharpie, more than a few of them cursing out the police. Gouges and scratches littered the once proud, shiny, black plastic. A seat was placed just to the left of it, equally as trashed as the payphone itself.

Before Sam was set down in the seat, Deputy Russell removed a cuff off one of Sam’s wrists before moving his arms from behind his back to in front of him. He then snapped the cuff onto the arm of the chair after Sam sat in the dirty and ripped upholstery.

With his hand not holding the receiver, Russell snagged a quarter off one of the nearby desks and slid it into the coin slot. His finger poised to enter the number into the rotary.

“Who am I calling,” the officer tiredly asked, his head turning towards Sam as he brought the receiver to his ear.

“Daniel Jean Louise Marie Wagner, please and thank you,” Sammy answered, flashing a superficially sweet smile at the deputy.

“I don’t even know why I asked,” Alexander Russell muttered under his breath. He didn’t even need to access a computer to enter the number, having it memorized just from the sheer amount of times Sam has made Daniel his emergency phone call.

When it began ringing, he handed the phone off to Sam. He went to grab it with his cuffed hand at first, then made the quick adjustment to reach with his free hand.

It rang for a lot longer than Sam had hoped. He just about gave up and believed that it would go to voicemail when the line went quiet… then a brief amount of rustling on the other end.

“....Hello?” a bleary voice croaked out; Daniel’s voice.

“Daniel! Danny, baby, so uh… yeah…”

Sam hadn’t thought Daniel would actually respond so he had no idea what to say.

“Right, so I’m at the county lockup and-”

“Oh, for FUCKS-”

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

Crestfallen, Sam slowly let the phone drop from his ear. His mouth fell agape as he felt his hand fall into his lap. He couldn’t believe it. After all that…

“What happened?” Russell asked, his stern demeanor softening slightly at the sight of his favorite troublemaker so dejected.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. Well, there was a sound, but it sounded like if you scuffed your shoe against a hardwood floor. So hardly word material.

“Did he hang up on you?”

All Sam could do was nod. He finally snapped his mouth shut, forcing himself to act like a human again. He slammed the receiver back onto its hook so hard it caused the bell inside the phone to jingle.

“Damn. That’s… That’s wrong. Son, why do you do this to yourself?”

It was a good question. Why did he continue to ruin his life for a man who clearly wanted nothing to do with him?

Sam didn’t respond. He just sullenly gazed down at the wretched linoleum as if it were to blame for Sam’s pathetic love life. Stupid fucking tile floor.

“Well, I can’t let you stay there. Let’s get you up.” Russell didn’t even bother to put the cuffs back on Sam. He knew the kid was too broken to try anything, not to mention stumbling drunk.

When Sam was back in his holding cell, all he did was sulk. He laid down on the uncomfortable and scratchy cot that was stuffed into the corner with his back against the wall. He wanted to get some rest, but every time he closed his eyes it felt like he was in a washing machine with the spin cycle on high. So he just let his head rest against the wall and stared up at the ceiling.

Deputy Russell made a few attempts at conversation, but Sam would only respond in these two word sentences. He wasn’t in the mood, frankly. He felt like an ass, but that happened more often than not these days. The pain would metastasize when the sun would peek over the horizon, leech into all of his bones and burn inside him with glowing shame and embarrassment for his actions the past night.

But that’s tomorrow.

Tonight was reserved for wallowing in his self pity and-

“Samuel?” It wasn’t Russell that asked, but Alice Langston.

The man in question snapped his eyes open and whipped his head forward. He moved too fast, his stomach churning and making him have to press his hand into it to keep the nausea at bay.

“Yeah,” he weakly responded, his eyes pinching shut to stop the room from spinning.

The cell door opened. That made Sam crack his eyes open.

Staring back at him with a rage and fury that could rival only the wrath of God Herself was none other than the man he wanted to see most in the entire world.

“Daniel,” Sam sighed, a smile spreading so wide across his face that he started to feel his cheeks hurt.

The frown on Danny’s face deepened and that’s when Sam noticed the dark bruises underneath his sunken eyes. He hadn’t slept. Or, rather, he had slept, but it was interrupted. The scowl on his face aged him about five years. Or maybe it had just been so long since the last time he’d seen Daniel. He wore a pair of ratty gray sweats, a maize and blue sweatshirt he got from his alma mater. He also had on a black rain jacket that was covered in droplets, grass sticking to his converse. So, it was still raining. That was also evident by the few strands of his curls that stuck to his forehead that had fallen out of the bun he had hastily thrown up. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, his shoulders tensed as his eyes bore into Sam’s very soul.

He’d never seen a more gorgeous sight in his whole life.

“You’re here.”

Daniel didn’t speak, just glared at him before turning on his heel and walking towards the front door. Sam, dumbfounded and a bit star struck, swung his gaze back and forth between the two officers of the law standing at the door to his cell.

“Your bond has been paid; you’re free to leave,” Langston informed him. Her voice was soft - well, soft for her.

Sam’s smile somehow brightened, doing the impossible. He jumped off the cot (having to rest his hand against the wall for a second to let his vision stop spinning) and followed after Danny.

“Daniel, wait,” he called as he tried his best to run after Danny, the guy having the advantage of both sobriety and longer legs. Damn him and his nice legs.

The man halted in his spot, his back ram-rod straight. Sam was close enough to hear the heavy sigh he let out as he did stop.

“Why did you… What are you doing here?”

Danny swiveled his head towards Sam, that death glare probably permanently fixed in Daniel's eyes as they beheld Sam. It made Sam stagger back a few steps, swallow down any words he might’ve had on his tongue.

“You will keep your mouth shut for the rest of the night, you understand me?” Daniel’s voice was cold, his finger pointed at Sam with an intense look fixed towards him.

Sam gulped. There was a mix of several emotions swirling around inside him that he was far too drunk to parse out. Despite that, he nodded his head and flashed a nervous smile.

As he turned away and made for the door, Sam swore he saw Danny’s face soften for a fraction of a second. It was enough.

For the rest of the ride, Sam couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Daniel would act cold towards him all he’d like, but his actions spoke volumes louder than the message he was trying to convey to Sam.

It was a start. And that was enough for Sam.

+++

Taglist: @doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @capturethechaos @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @starsasone @mintysammykiszka @writingcold @tearsofbri @gretasmokerising @streamofstardust @lunaindigoraven @jakeydoesit @tripthelightfandomtastic @sunfl0wer-power @wingedgardener2000 @gretavanbitches @teddiie @gardensGateDaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @sammysprincess @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan @lightmyloverry @kenzie18 @gotavansleep @roosterbbradley @freckled-wonder @flower-power-anthem @Gabyvanfleet @Sarakay-gvf @Mamalikes-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama @st4rdust-ch0rds @pr41sethemoon @fallonfatality @earthlysorrows @jessicafg03 @rossy1080 @hippievanfleet @spark-my-nature @hayley1623 @schleeble @gretavanflipflop @candycigsonacolortv

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #danny wagner #sam kiszka #daniel robert wagner #samuel francis kiszka #danny gvf #sammy gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake gvf #sanny gvf #sam x Daniel

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shootmetwice25 · 2 years

Text

Cowgirl

The BFH was raging, so I had to whip up a quickie for cowgirl Nayeon. This is my third Nay fic in the past three weeks. The woman has me in a chokehold. Anyways, enjoy!

“I’m home Nayeon,” you announce as you close the door behind you.

Nayeon appears from the hallway. You immediately raise an eyebrow when you see her sporting an interesting outfit.

“Howdy there cowboy,” Nayeon says while twirling her twin braided tails.

You sigh. “Nayeon, what are you wearing?”

Nayeon sticks her hip out and raises her arms to show off the outfit. “Can’t you see? I’m a cowgirl. And this cowgirl needs to do some riding.”

“Seriously Nayeon?” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Luckily for me,” Nayeon starts to say as she walks seductively towards you. “I’ve got the perfect cowboy to go riding with.”

Nayeon leans towards you to grab your tie, but instead her giant hat smacks you in the face.

Nayeon laughs. “Oops! Sorry there cowboy. I’m not used to the hat yet.”

She grabs your tie, this time not smacking you in the face with her hat and says, “Let’s go for a ride, cowboy.”

You gently push her hand off of your tie. “I had a long day at work today. I’m tired. I just want to rest.”

Nayeon sighs and then stares at you with her dark brown eyes. “Oh, I think you misunderstand, cowboy. It wasn’t a request.”

“So I don’t have a choice?” you ask.

Nayeon smirks. “You do not.”

You never really have a choice when it comes to Im Nayeon. Whatever Nayeon wants, Nayeon gets. And you’re always happy to give what she wants.

Nayeon grabs your tie again and starts to drag you to the bedroom. “Let’s go, cowboy.”

Once you’re in the bedroom, Nayeon pushes you down onto the bed and quickly strips your pants and underwear off. She takes her hat off and places it on the bed before spitting on your semi hard cock, then rubbing it. She then leans down and kisses and licks the tip of your cock. Your cock is hard as a rock in no time. Nayeon gives your hard cock a few blows, then she sits up and puts her hat back on.

“Time for this cowgirl to go for a ride,” she says as she unbuckles her belt and slides her pants down revealing no panties, of course, just her plump pussy.

She slides her pants down to just above her knees, then mounts on top of you. Wasting no time, she grabs your cock and inserts it into her pussy.

“Mmm,” she moans as your cock has no problem sliding into her wet pussy.

Once your cock is bottomed out deep inside her, she waits for a few moments before moving and then slamming back down. In an instance, Nayeon is riding you hard and fast.

“Mmm. Yes! Your cowboy cock is so good to ride on!”

Your hands instinctively go to Nayeon’s waist, but the second you make contact with her body, she abruptly stops and glares at you.

You look at her perplexed. “W-what are you doing?”

She doesn’t say anything. Instead she removes both of your hands from her waist and then she slaps you in the face. It isn’t a playful slap or anything like that. It’s a full on slap to your face.

“What the fuck Nayeon!?” you yell as you massage your stinging cheek.

“When did I say you could touch me?” Nayeon asks, still glaring at you.

“W-what?”

“You didn’t even want to do this. You said you were ‘too tired’. Well guess what, bad cowboys don’t get to touch me.”

“Nay, are you s-”

You’re silenced by another slap.

“You’re going to lay there and this cowgirl is going to ride you. Do you understand?”

You nod your head.

“Good,” Nayeon says before resuming. Her pace hasn’t changed. In fact, it might even be faster and harder than before.

You lay there and just watch as Nayeon’s delicious body bounces up and down on your cock. The bed creaks every time Nayeon slams her body back down onto your cock.

“Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! It’s so good!”

Nayeon continues to furiously ride you. Wordless moans of pleasure leave her lips. Her mouth is wide open, her tongue sticking out and eyes involuntarily shut.

She doesn’t announce her orgasm, but it’s obvious when it happens. She slams herself down, your cock piercing into her deepest part. She throws her head back and lets out a high pitch scream. Her body uncontrollably shakes on top of you and her pussy pulsates around your cock.

Her chest heaves and she pants as she comes down from her high. Then without saying a word, she gets up, turns around and inserts your cock into her again.

She starts riding you reverse cowgirl. Just like before, it isn’t a smooth ride. More like a hard and rapid ride.

All you can do is watch Nayeon’s thick ass bounce up and down on your cock. You want to touch her ass so bad, but you know that would be met with severe consequences. You grip the sheets tightly and watch her ass ripple and listen to the satisfying slap each time she slams her ass down.

Nayeon bends down to grab your legs, changing the angle and allowing her to go even faster.

“Fuck yes! I love riding this cowboy’s big cock! It feels so fucking good!”

Her increased pace sends you towards the ledge.

“Oh, I’m such a slutty cowgirl. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Nayeon moans.

Nayeon bounces a few more times before you’re about to fall off the ledge.

“Nay, I’m about to cum.”

Nayeon slams her ass down one last time, then gets off, turns around, throws her hat off, and kneels in front of your cock.

“Paint this cowgirl’s face with your cum, cowboy,” she says.

One pump from her hand is all you need before you grunt and the first wave a thick and warm liquid shoots out of your cock and paints Nayeon’s face.

Nayeon sticks her tongue out as another wave splashes onto her face, then another, then another, and another. She continues to pump your cock until your balls are literally empty.

There’s so much of your white sticky substance that it’s started to drip down to Nayeon’s cleavage.

Nayeon lets go of your softening cock and wipes some cum off her chin with a finger. Without breaking eye contact with you, she puts her finger in her mouth.

“Mmm. Cowboy cum tastes so good. That was a fun ride. Maybe next time, if you’re a good cowboy, you can have fun too.”

…

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creativemessbyvd · 6 months

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FIC IDEA VAULT #15: A BAGGINSHIELD AFTERLIFE REUNION/TIME TRAVEL/ FIX-IT/BILBO DESTROYS THE RING IN PLACE OF FRODO FIC

Back on my Bagginshield era, I'm reading fics on them (I stopped bc various SW ships and other ships had me on a chokehold, how about those last 15 on Good Omens Ep6?? :c) and listening to my playlist once more, I think I had since the start of the year with hardly any of my OTP around (except for my phone background) ANYWAY this is to inform you I am also back on my bullshit and I come with another fic idea, which will be put on hold until I can complete the other 164453196859 ideas I have. Ok, not that many, but I do have a lot of very detailed ideas that I do want to write and a bunch of half sentenced ones that are just ideas, so here we goooooooo

Bilbo dies on the way to Valinor and awakens on it as his 50 year old self, to the astonishment of the Elves, Gandalf and Frodo. Something is wrong with the afterlife, it is in the air and everyone is on edge, Frodo most of all, as he has felt this presence before.

Sauron may have died on Arda, but he was still in part present in the afterlife, wrecking havoc on everything. Bilbo embarks to the green hills of Yavanna's garden, the land where all Hobbits go, with Frodo and Gandalf. Upon reunitign with family and friends, Yavanna herself welcomes the brave hobbits but Bilbo can notice the tense manner in which she speaks to Gandalf and offers his help. Yavanna informs them that the various lands of the Valar are on lockdown as they face attacks from the darkness and they fear they may not last until Iluvitar can help them, but that is a mission that Gandalf and the other wizards don't know how long it will take. She is afraid for her husbands and needs a way to contact him. She believes having them all cut off from each other was the wrong choice, uniting their forces they will be able to hold off the darkness better than on their own. So, Bilbo is determined to once more become a burglar and enter another mountain. Yavanna does warn him though that this time, the dragon is on the outside of the mountain. Sauron has set Smaug onto the Mountain that is Mahal's domain.

Bilbo sets off with four trouble hobbits to sneak into the Dwarven Halls, managing to distract the dragon enough that he ramms into the mountain and knocks himself out. They find a way inside and find a funny scene, Bilbo's dwarves are attempting to take down the front doors, despite their maker trying to make them see reason. They had heard Smaug's attempts to draw them out, the last thing the dragon had told them, aimed at Thorin himself, was that he was going to go to the Gardens to find Bilbo himself and get his revenge. Bilbo had at that moment drawn away his attention and having not heard the thunderous racket for awhile, the dwarves inside had panicked and were now attempting to try to kill the dragon themselves. Bilbo laughs at their ridiculousness and is almost squished by 13 dwarves. Mahal knows they wouldn't be there unless his wife had sent them and Bilbo gives him the message Yavanna had given him.

Mahal himself is now more than ever determined to find a way to stop the rampage that Sauron is inflicting on their lands. He goes out the way the hobbits came in to take care of a knocked out Smaug, and together, the hobbits, the dwarves and a Valar set off for the Gardens once more.

Reunited, the Valar are planning and discarding plans faster than the others can follow, until Mahal has a very dangerous plan, which he calls the Durin Last Resort.

The reason that Sauron is now able to still remain in lands of the Valar is because he was able to draw power from the remaining rings still in Middle Earth at the time of the War of the Ring, destroying it had not completely cut him off. The other rings had to be found and destroyed before the One Ring was finally banished, only then would Sauron finally be defeated. Time was not a straight line, it happened all at once, and still, Mahal and Yavanna could sent people back as Mahal had done before for Durin in his various reincarnations.

This makes Frodo almost collapse from the anxiety, but he swears that he will try his best if he is asked to be the Ring Bearer again. Bilbo can't take seeing his dear nephew in so much pain, not when he knows that he wasted so much time by doing nothing but using the ring as a simple party trick. He offers himself to go and be the Ring Bearer this time, reasoning that even if Frodo went back to the beginning of his adventure, Sauron already had plenty of time to be prepared and on the lookout for the Ring, but when Bilbo got the Ring himself, Sauron was not strong enough to do much but be the necromancer.

Mahal agrees but Yavanna is not happy. She refuses to put Bilbo in such danger, unless the company also go with him. She wishes for this to be a second chance for the line of Durin, and thus Bilbo wouldn't be alone on his trials. They cannot be sure exactly when Bilbo will go back to, just that it will before the retaking of Erebor. He will also be the only one who will initially have his memories, everyone else will need to be told a special message to unlock those memories back in the world of the living.

Bilbo is then send back in time and back to life a couple of years before his adventure and sets to making things right not just for his friends but also for many others in his life.

Anway, sorry for the innaccuracies on the Valar and everything else, I will not read the Silm and will just wing it lol. Essentially, I want BAMF Bilbo who gets to reunite with his dwarves in the afterlife, and then gets send back into his past to redo the Quest and also go on to destroy the Ring in the place of Frodo. If he and his King are able to finally stop being idiots and actually speak on their feelings, well, we will see. Those two are worse at communication than an angel and demon I know, so it might take a while lol.

Any comments are welcome!

#my writing #fic idea vault #fic idea vault 15 #afterlife reunion #bagginshield fic #bagginshield #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #frodo baggins

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weemssapphic · 10 months

Note

hi, can I ask for your top ten favorite fics ? :)

hi! you absolutely can :) here are some fics that literally altered my brain chemistry. this is by no means an exhaustive list. some of these I have mentioned before, some I have not. the order is also completely random, as I would die if I had to rank these - they don't deserve to be pitted against one another and, in any case, many of them are so different from one another that it would be impossible to choose which is "better".

anyway, gonna put this under a cut!

Little Cat by @lady-dimimi when I tell you every single chapter of this fic has me giggling and squealing and kicking my feetsies - it's so sweet, the idea of Larissa turning into a cat (and having such gay panic) is something I never knew I needed but now cannot live without. so well-written and every time a new part comes out I literally drop everything to read it.

Life Eternal by @milfsloverblog I've linked the first part but there are 4 parts in total which can be found in her masterlist. oh boy. I have never sobbed this hard at a fic before. I cry quite easily anyway but something about the beautiful way this was written just had my stomach in knots and tears streaming down my face. but I would read it over and over again because it's just that good.

Hot Chocolate on ao3 by AllTheMoreSapphic, Yennefer Payne (madamspellmans_met_tet) Larissa Weems is a virgin and Zelda Spellman is a dominatrix and jfhlkjdshagkdj this fic has me in a chokehold okay I cannot explain it you just have to read it, you won't regret it I promise. it's so well-written and there's just something about it that scratches an itch in my brain.

Heat by @rippersz a (so-far) 2 part series with a third part perhaps coming. quite literally one of the hottest things I have ever read, dear lord. jaw-droppingly hot. but seriously all fics by @rippersz are an absolute delight to read, one of the most talented writers I have ever had the pleasure to come across. would devour anything they write.

Find What You Desire by @pro-weems-places super hot smut with a hint of fluff and just the best vibes overall, I re-read this one so often because it's absolutely amazing. @pro-weems-places characterization of Larissa always makes me fuzzy inside, one of my favorite writers truly <3

push me gently (into love) by @yourlocaldisneyvillain one of my fav fav fav writers, her writing is so unique and so immersive. and this fic is EVERYTHING. so silly, so much fluff, some of the most divine smut you'll ever come across. Larissa deserves her goth gf okay??

Anticipatory Grief by @wh0re4women such an amazing author, all of her fics are incredible. but god this fic HURT. had me bawling like a baby. and you know what? I loved every second of it. so well written that you can feel the grief coming off the page in waves. highly recommend if you need a good cry.

Warmth of Your Doorways by @alexusonfire and @daydream-cement have I mentioned this fic multiple times already? yes. and I will continue to do so until I'm blue in the face because I love Jane Murdstone and I love the writing and I love the plot and this fic will always have a place in my heart and my brain. <3

Shapes of Love by @dianneking Morticia x Larissa wherein Larissa is a sex worker and is hired by Morticia. this fic literally has everything I could ever want in a fic and it's finally (and kind of sadly tbh) complete - queue me re-reading this gem over and over again (all of their writing is fire though by the way)

Sugar Mama on ao3 by valda (need an ao3 account for this one) I have mentioned this one before but it will always be one of my favorites. Phasma x Rey sugar mommy AU that unfortunately I think has been abandoned, but I just love everything about it. rip never forget.

#asks #anon #as I wrote this sooo many other fics popped into my head #definitely making a masterlist soon

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squarebracketsmileyface · 5 months

Note

I don’t remember if I or anyone else has given this song yet… but Tongues & Teeth by The Crane Wives is so Alex

I love this song, but i usually relate it to Desert Duo (from third life and double life, idk if you know what that is but it's a cool minecraft series and its amazing so you should lol) so I'd never even thought about it in the context of Sorry, It's Locked.

But oh my god?

You're so right?

It's so Alex?

Anyway, uh, Too long and very armature analysis incoming. As usual lol. I have far too many thoughts, as always, about my babies, and I've been writing sorry its locked Jam for the last couple days so I need to remind myself of the dumpster fire of a relationship the fic started with :D (I'm kidding, i love Jaylex in this fic and wish I hadn't done them so dirty, they could have been amazing. but also i love angst)

This whole song feel's like Alex kinda, like, reminiscing over his and Jay's relationship? Or, like, how it ended, but like, reminiscing in the moment? Do you know what I mean? Or is reminiscing over something while it's still happening just a me thing lol. Anyway, super long thing incoming (I'm so sorry, it's so long. This song has me in a chokehold).

I've grown a mouth so sharp and cruel It's all that I can give to you, my dear And when you come in quick to steal a kiss My teeth will only cut your lips, my dear

As far as Alex is concerned, his relationship with Jay didn't start out bad. Back in college, when they started their fwb situation it was pretty healthy (though that did go downhill relatively quickly) It started out fine, but tension grew as soon as Alex realized that Jay actually liked him and that he couldn't bring himself to like Jay back, or to allow himself to like Jay back. That started the friction between them, but they kept fucking because it was fun, they both enjoyed themselves, and Jay didn't call it off yet. Alex definitely liked Jay, but he didn't necessarily know he liked Jay back. And didn't know how to express it, so he just didn't.

Then obviously the stuff with the Operator started, and that changed Alex's personality a lot, making him irritable and unpleasant to be around, even for the people he'd been friends with the longest. His mouth grew sharp and cruel, but he didn't break off his thing with Jay because it was the one place where he actually felt in control of his life. Jay did what Alex told him to, and Alex didn't have to wrestle with himself to not be unkind to him, because that was what Jay wanted (as far as he'd made Alex aware, that was what he wanted out of their dynamic)

If Jay tried to initiate anything softer, or more romantic with Alex back in college (or even just mentioned it, sometimes) Alex would shut him down. His teeth cut Jay's lips when Jay went in to steal a kiss, because Alex couldn't let himself get attached, and if he let Jay kiss him without it being used as something to spur them on to acts where Alex was definitively in control, he wouldn't be able to cope with it.

(jesus this is already so long. im so sorry if you decide to read all of this dude)

And I know that you mean so well But I am not a vessel for your good intent

Jay trying to help Alex after they meet up again is pretty much the last thing Alex actually wants. He asked Jay for help to find Amy while his thoughts were being edited and glitched out by the Operator, so when he first got in contact with Jay again, he did it so he could try and kill Jay. Then he regained his senses a little and realized that the absolute worst thing Jay could do was stick around. Like, obviously Jay meant well in trying to help Alex, but Alex hadn't meant well when he'd asked for help.

Jay wants to help, and he want's to rebuild the friendship he once had with Alex. He wants to help find Amy, despite Alex leaving him for her. He wants to help figure out what happened to Alex back in college. He wants to help figure out how to save Alex from what he's figured out happened. But Alex isn't the person Jay's well intentioned helpfulness should be aimed towards.

Alex doesn't really think he needs saving, he's convinced he has to save everyone else. But he has a twisted understanding of what it means to save people, and his idea of saving people often directly lines up with the things the Operator edits his thoughts to make him do. He doesn't (can't) realize that the things he does to save people (killing them) and the things the Operator edits his thoughts to make him think it's okay to do (killing those same people) are the same thing.

When he has a bit more sense about him, he realises that killing because it's what the Operator put in his head is awful and not something he wants to do. But he doesn't see killing people to 'save them' as the same thing. He barely even sees it as killing half the time, and even when he does, it's for the greater good.

So he doesn't think he needs help and he doesn't think he needs saving. And even if he did realise he needs help, Alex doesn't believe himself worthy of being helped or saved, not when he knows what he really intended to do when he first asked Jay for help.

I will only break your pretty things I will only wring you dry of everything And if you're fine with that You can be mine like that

SO i have two lines of thinking about what this verse could mean

Post College:

Alex doesn't break pretty items that Jay owns (he doesn't have any that Alex could break, really) but he does break Jay in a way. After they argue in the parking lot, he realizes that Jay isn't going to stop trying to help him, no matter what, so he'll have to force him to, by breaking Jay's heart and making him hate him.

Jay's heart is a pretty thing: It was loving even when Alex was giving it nothing but a good fuck in return. It made Jay help Alex with his student film even as Alex became more and more unbearable to work with. It made Jay come back to help Alex all over again when his girlfriend 'disappeared'.

Alex had to save Jay, and his own (deeply buried) feelings for Jay stopped him from just killing him like he had to save Amy, and Seth, and Sarah, and all the others. He had to find another way, and the only way he could think of was to wring Jay dry of every ounce of care he still held for Alex.

During College:

Alex wasn't trying to hurt Jay and break his heart, if anything he felt constantly like he was doing nothing but breaking his own heart over and over again by denying himself the chance to actually date Jay. So he kept up the fwb situation with Jay because it 'suited' both of them (aka neither of them voiced the issues they had with it to the other) until he'd wrung Jay dry and an opportunity to escape having to deal with his own sexuality (Amy) came along.

But, if Amy hadn't come along and offered Alex the perfect way out, he would have kept the fwb going for as long as he could, not willing to give up having Jay in the only way he felt he could until he absolutely had to. If Jay could be fine with that, he could be Alex's like that, with their relationship never progressing and only ever wearing the two of them down until they resented each other and couldn't take it anymore.

They were never not going to go down in flames, but they could light the fire with wet wood and suffocate slowly on the smoke until the fire finally took and burned them up quickly and painfully.

Abandon all your stupid dreams About the girl I could have been, my dear 'Cause in the night I know you burn with feelings I cannot return, my dear Oh, my dear

In college, Alex was silently begging Jay to give up his hopes of ever actually dating him, of them being together officially. He knew what Jay wanted him to be to him, but he also knew that he couldn't be that. He wanted to, somewhere squashed deep down, he really really wanted to be the soft, loving, romantic partner that Jay was waiting and hoping he'd turn into, but he knew it wouldn't happen. Maybe he didn't realize all of that consciously. Consciously he probably just thought he didn't like Jay like that at all, that he was just a good lay and that was the end of it. But he had one too many dreams about taking Jay on quiet, gentle dates for him to really only see Jay as a good fuck.

The thing is though, that he knows what Jay wants them to be to each other. He knows from the way that Jay looked at him whenever he messes up and starts treating him a little nicer, a little gentler, a little softer, when they fuck.

He knows that during those moments where they still together and catch their breaths, and Jay looks up at him like he's hung the stars just because he's brushing his sweaty hair out of his face, that Jay has those feelings and those hopes. And he knows he can't return those feelings. He can't return the love that Jay lavishes on him by not telling him to fuck off and going and finding someone who is willing to treat him the way he really wants to be treated. It kills him, but there's nothing he can do about it.

(Also good news, you're about half way through :D whoooooo, the torment isn't eternal!)

You gotta know that this won't last Desperation will erase the fact I'm keeping all Of the answers in my cigarette box Yeah, the answer's in the second before the other shoe drops And if you're blind to that I am fine with that

Back in college, Alex needed Jay to know that their arrangement couldn't last, that as much as Jay wanted it to work and wanted Alex to magically sort out the shit in his head that left him too scared to even properly date Jay in secret rather than just being fwb, it wouldn't. Alex needed Jay to know that it wouldn't change unless it was to break the whole thing off entirely, which is what happened, it was what was always going to happen. But if Alex could have made Jay realize that that was what he should have expected, and that nothing he could do would 'fix' that, maybe the not-breakup wouldn't have hurt Jay so badly.

Alex didn't want to hurt him, he wasn't trying to hurt him back in college, he was just trying to stop himself from hurting by continuing their fwb relationship. Alex's life was spiraling out of control, his own thoughts were spiraling out of his control, as were his actions sometimes, and the only time he felt secure in his control over himself and his life, was when he was controlling Jay in scenes.

The answers he always gave Jay when Jay got up the courage to try to talk about their relationship, and what he hoped it could become, weren't the truthful answers. Alex told him he didn't like him back, told him he was just a good fuck, when the real answer was that he was terrified out of his mind, and the idea of changing their relationship even a little felt dangerous. Because their fwb relationship worked and it gave Alex the control he needed, if they started dating that would bring in a huge amount of unknown variables, and if it ended up not working? That would leave Alex with nothing. Not to mention the general internalized homophobia, and the homophobia all around them meaning that it could be genuinely dangerous for both of them if the wrong people found out.

So he keeps all the real answers hidden away in a place Jay won't look for them, in a 'cigarette box' (behind the lies he tells instead) because it's something easily hidden, its something that wouldn't look out out of place, just like the lies he tells don't look out of place. Jay has no real reason to question the answers Alex gives him, they make sense and Alex's behavior seems to back up the idea that he doesn't like Jay the same way Jay likes him.

And Jay's desperation to have a relationship with Alex blinds him to the fact that it could actually be possible if only Alex would stop lying to him. Any time Jay sees a crack in Alex's facade he second guesses himself, insisting that it's just wishful thinking and that little glimpse behind the walls Alex has built was just something his hopeful, lovesick mind made up. It's always a split second, something so tiny and easy to miss that Jay automatically dismisses it.

Oh, I will ruin you Oh, I will ruin you It's a habit, I can't help it I know that you mean so well But I am not a vessel for your good intent

After college, when Jay and Alex meet up again and everything that happens after the argument in the parking lot happens, Alex knows that it's a terrible idea. He knows that all it'll do is reopen old, half healed, half festering wounds and rub salt in them, but Jay wants it, and he wants Jay so he doesn't stop them. He's lost all of his friends (whether to death or just distance), he's lost Amy, and the only thing he has left is an old, already failing not-relationship with Jay. So to tries to make himself feel better by rekindling that.

He and Jay fuck in the parking lot and Alex realizes that this is most likely going to be the last chance he ever gets to have Jay back, even just for one night. And if this is the last chance, he doesn't want it to be exactly the same as it was in college, so he takes Jay back to his house and does all the things he'd been too scared to back in college. Because who would find out? And if anyone did? Why would it matter, Alex's life had already fallen apart and become controlled by fear and a monster, what was getting beaten up for being queer in comparison to that?

This was his last chance to have Jay back, and Alex knew he had to make sure of that. He couldn't drag Jay into all of this, so he had to ruin everything in the worst way possible, and having taken Jay back to his house and treated him so nicely was (instead of coming back to bite him in the ass) going to work in his favor. Even in being nice, he was going to be hurting Jay, but that was what he had to do. Hurting Jay is a habit he can't kick, it's woven into his dna at this point and there's nothing he can do about that other than try to twist it into being something that's for Jay's own sake.

If he can just make Jay hate him enough, he can save him, he can drive him away and Jay won't be a target of the man in the black suit.

I will only break your pretty things I will only wring you dry of everything But if you're fine with that If you're fine with that

Same as earlier :]

I will poison all your happy thoughts I will love you like the ashes in my cigarette box And if you're fine with that You can be mine If you're fine with that You can be mine, oh

Jay's 'happy thoughts' that Alex is poisoning are the memories of how nicely Alex treated him when they got back to his house. In the moment of it all, he wasn't thinking of anything other than showing Jay how much he actually cared about him and how he should have been being treated all along. In the moment he just wanted to be good to Jay. It was only afterwards that he realized what he'd have to do, and he took the next morning to spit poison into their breakfast, which could have been a turning point in their relationship if only they weren't doomed by the damn narrative.

So Alex ruins the night before for Jay by telling him he hadn't even wanted to remember that it was him he was fucking. He poisons those memories forever, as well as poisoning the idea of being treated well in general for Jay.

Alex loves all those truthful answers that he kept hidden away behind lies back in college. Those truths are what he was trying to finally finally let out when he and Jay spent the night together at his house.

He loves Jay like he loves those truthful answers that he never got to give him back in college, bitterly. Those truths were things he never thought he'd get to, never wanted to get to tell Jay, they sat rotting behind the lies he told, and now he can only look at them with a painful sort of nostalgia because it's too little too late.

#marble hornets #jay merrick #alex kralie #jaylex #marble hornets fanfic #MH sorry its locked

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