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purplealmonds · 10 months

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This is my tribute to the late Technoblade. I'm well over a week late to the anniversary of his passing, but I think it was worth the wait. I wanted to get this right.

The story I want to tell is of time's passage after his passing, and the set dressing of this space is a symbolic amalgamation of various aspects of his life depicting that concept.

I have a lot more to say about this painting - three pages just for the symbolism alone. If you're interested, please let me know and I'll share my analysis on a separate post! Edit: I caved. Aight, prepare for a massive info dump below the cut!

DISCLAIMERS:

Although I put a lot of research into this piece, my knowledge is likely flawed and incomplete. If I missed or misinterpreted a reference, it’s because I’m new to the Technoblade community. If I got a symbolism thing wrong, it’s because I relied on Google search for answers. I fact checked where I could. And with this analysis, I hope I can clear up any misinterpretations!

—

OVERVIEW:

There’s lots of imagery to unpack so I’ll try parsing it in a structured manner. Let’s first examine it holistically.

The story I want to tell here is of time’s passage after Technoblade’s passing. As such,the set dressing of this space is a symbolic amalgamation of that concept.

Prominently featured are the various medical equipments - a nod to the grim reality of his cancer. But let’s not linger upon that aspect of his story.

Of equal importance are the more mundane objects - his gaming setup, the couch and pillow which Floof sat upon in that one photo, the plethora of paraphernalia of branded merchandise, and references to his exploits in Minecraft. These are relics and mementos of his legacy.

All of these elements intermingle in flooded, lushly overgrown room looking out to a rose-tinted exterior. Is it dawn? Dusk? I’ll leave that interpretation up to the viewers.

The third and final component is the plant life representing his community -us. We beautify this metaphorical space with where it was once laden with tragedy. Yet, despite these riotous blooms, we never quite encroach on the bed - the empty space left behind by him.

—

SET DRESSING:

Much care was taken in selecting the blossoms and placing them in symbolically significant locations. And this neatly transitions us into the analysis individual details.

Foreground:

In the foreground, ivy crawls through a lamp and white clovers thrive atop a pile of pillboxes. The lamp base, once a shining bronze-like finish, is heavily tarnished. The lampshade is overgrown with moss and ivy. Even if the greenery has yet to damage the electric wiring, the damp surely has finished the job. Even if the bulb is replaced, the body is too far gone. The light’s never coming on again.

I was initially put out that my painstakingly 3D modeled pillboxes became entirely obscured, but I think it works in favor of the piece’s overarching theme: the beautiful wilds overtaking a space that once reeked of the desperate fight to prolong life.

White clover blossoms meaning “thinking of you” is paired with the ivy meaning “everlasting devotion”. It’s an apt combination. It has been over a year since his passing, and we still remember and carry on his legacy.

Nestled amongst the foliage is Techno’s compass. It was once used to hunt him down in the Dream SMP. But now, it’s an odd comfort. Even though he’s no longer with us, he’s still somewhere far, far away– or is he? The original idea was for the needle to point heavenwards, but it is currently pointing…sideways? I’ll get to the reasoning a bit later.

The Flood:

Moving deeper into the space, we hit the floodwaters. These once turbulent currents are now tranquil enough to nourish this verdant place. The thriving plant life hides much of this darkness. It is beautiful, hopeful, even. But always bittersweet, because everything that grows here is laced with an old sorrow.

White lotus rise from the murky depths. That is us, overcoming our grief. Breaching the surface, we gain a new vantage point to contemplate this loss. Perhaps we can also find a more comforting perspective of it.

Submerged amongst the blossoms is a rusted oxygen machine. I wanted to decorate the machine with stickers, much like one would personalize a plaster cast for a broken limb. It is deliberate that the “Technoblade Never Dies” sticker is in shadow, while the “So Long, Nerds" is in light.

Immediately to the right was meant to be a box of assorted Technoblade apparel. But then I flooded the space for narrative reasons, rendering that idea unusable. I eventually converted it into a Welch’s Fruit Snacks box, because apparently Technoblade liked them? It’s one of the shallower references here but it is what it is.

And finally, there is a little cameo floating somewhere in the waters. An Easter egg, if you will. I wonder if you can find it?

Furnishings from Home:

I found the couch and Technoblade’s gaming setup during my trawl through the Technoblade Reddit page for reference photos. Balancing this space full of impersonal medical equipment with more personalized belongings is grounding. These areas insert familiarity in this strange environment.

Gaming Setup:

The gaming setup is bare bones - just the monitor, keyboard, and mouse. There was no space to add more iconic elements like his Blue Yeti microphone or the steering wheel from that Minecraft challenge. Hanging above but heavily obscured by overgrowth are two framed pictures of Technoblade’s cabin and a potato minion. It is a blink-and-you-miss-it detail, placed in a dim space and requiring close examining to notice. Without the context of the rest of this environment, it is easily mistaken as generic set dressing.

That’s the point, though. This was a space where he streamed and created videos much beloved by his community. This space was the means of creation, not the creations themselves. Without the creator at the helm, this setup becomes insignificant. Does one dote over the easel on which paintings were created, or the paintings themselves? So now it sits in darkness, a footnote of Technoblade’s legacy.

Nostalgia Corner:

On the other end, we have the sold out Youtooz plushies and the Agro Pig plush from the recent merch drop sat atop the couch. If you look closely, you’ll see a Skeppy coin leaning against one of the plushies. Behind the couch is a shelf. A generic shelf, but the important bits here are the sellout bell, Youtube plaque, and vinyl figurines.

This corner of the room is nostalgic and soft. Everything is bathed in rosy pink light, and it is filled with things that are comfortingly familiar. All across the world, people in his community have these pieces of merch to remember him by.

The red poppies that also grow here have multiple meanings. It represents the battle - one against sarcoma - which was fought here. It symbolizes death, but also resilience in the face of grueling conditions. It is said that they grow in former battlefields where of fallen warriors. I believe of all the flowers here, this one best represents Technoblade.

The Hanging Mobile:

Strung up above it is a rather last minute addition to the environment - a hanging mobile fabricated from totems representing each member of the Sleepy Bois Inc. friend group. First and foremost is Technoblade’s iconic MCC crown, aptly placed at the top. Although it is untouched by the greenery, the gold and jewelry are somewhat muted and tarnished by time.

This is not the case for the objects below. TommyInnit’s music disc shines iridiscent green and purple - Cat and Mellohi merged into one. To is right is a sky-blue guitar pick with the LoveJoy logo engraved onto it for Wilbur Soot. And finally, below it all is Philza’s Friendship Emerald - sparkling and refracting light - with Elytra feathers fastened at the bottom. They, suspended and isolated from everything, maintain a pristine vibrancy which strongly contrasts against everything else in this space.

IV Stand:

Next to the computer setup is the IV stand. It sustains life which is incapable of continuing on without intervention. The butterfly milkweed growing on it, in contrast, says “let me go.” The latter, overtaking the tangle of tubes and powered off patient monitor, is victorious. The hooks stand rusted, and the IV bag empty from disuse.

Sat atop the patient monitor but almost blending into the walls is a pig figurine featured in Dream’s latest music video. It stands on a high perch, yet is unassuming as to direct focus on Technoblade, or rather, his absence.

Hanging from the wired basket is an air freshener tag. If you look on the official website, this is one of the only products which has what I can only call interesting flavor text. Most are merely descriptions and specs of the product. To quote it verbatim:

“Yes, this is a real product. And no, this ‘air freshener’ has no discernible fragrance. ‘Why’ you ask? Because Mr. Technodad and our team agreed this was exactly the sort of air freshener Alex would have found hilarious.”

As morbid as it sounds, I feel like this air freshener tag would not have existed before Technoblade’s passing. It is so unlike any other merchandise I’ve seen in any other branded merchandise store. It’s like an inside joke, secretly shared within the descriptions for the world to eventually discover.

Window:

Unlit candles line the window sill - the aftermath of a candlelight vigil. It is a versatile symbol. It raises awareness of a disease or illness. It pays tribute the dead. Judging from the melted wax dribbling down the candle shafts and the wall below (the opacity was reduced so it looks less like bloodstains), this has been done many times over. But there is so much more candle to burn, representing the people still continuing this ceremony, albeit in the privacy of their own homes.

Above the candles are some broken blinds. When grieving, it would have been so easy for Mr. Technodad to hide away from the world in his grief. It’s understandable, to give into that primal urge to flee from prying eyes when he’s at his most vulnerable. He had the difficult task of reading out his son’s final farewell to us. This barrier between him and us dismantled by this gesture so we can remember Technoblade together.

Coincidentally, the window frame itself somewhat resembles the kitchen window featured in Technoblade and Technodad's cooking videos. Completely unintentional on my end, but fitting in a way since in both those videos they're pulling back the metaphorical curtains for the audience to peer into a small aspect of their private lives.

To the right of the window is a nondescript clock, forever stopped at the 6:30 as a nod to the date when the "So Long, Nerds" video was published. The minute hand is accidentally left out removed to signify that time will no longer move forward for Technoblade. In contrast, the rest of the world - represented by this space - continues to grow and change around his absence.

A wind chime hangs just outside the window. It is said that the soothing sounds produced by them is a healing balm during tumultuous times. Where there is wind there is stirred up emotions, but it is motionless on this calm, breezeless day. A rare respite, where remembrance overrides grief.

On a more amusing note, there is an interesting looking moth perched on the window glass. Upon closer inspection, the wing pattern may look somewhat familiar. In Chinese culture, when a huge moth visiting your home is the embodiment of your recently deceased loved one checking on you. Remember the compass in the foreground? Well, here’s why it is pointed sideways instead of upwards. This idea came up rather organically during a VC session in the R/Technoblade Discord server. My handful of viewers and myself affectionately dubbed this doofy looking moth TechnoMoff!

Venturing further beyond the windows, ferns grow with wild abandon. They represent eternal youth, and from a certain point of view, he will remain youthful forever at the age of 23. He lives on through us carrying on his legacy and spreading his story.

Everything outside is tinged with pink. After someone dies, we start seeing them less as a person and more as a legacy. It is the natural course of things to start seeing the deceased through rose-tinted lenses - hence the artificially pink hue of the outside contrasting with the more grounded color palette of the inside.

Bed:

And now we circle back to the centerpiece of this entire composition: the bed and the things that surround it.

In front of the bed is an over-bed table with a single object: an incense bowl filled to the brim with burnt sticks of incense. A simple shrine for Technoblade. In Chinese culture, we light incense at the altar to honor our loved ones. We may live separate lives and not cross paths often, but we all come together to leave our marks through this ritual. It is proof that he is still very much loved and missed by us all.

The bariatric bed frame is typically seen in hospitals. It allows the patient to comfortably sit up or recline without expending valuable energy. Encased in this frame is something more personal - the mattress and cushions which Technoblade laid upon in his photo with the Youtube plaque. Their unique patterning is a foil for the impersonal receptacle it is caged in. It is spotlit by the window light, emphasizing its emptiness. Not a single blossom dares to encroach upon this space, because to do so would be to erase the space where Technoblade last resided. Like I mentioned before, this is story is about the space around him as much as it is about him.

Cradling this bed frame are several flowers. Rosemary and forget-me-not’s for remembrance. Appropriate, given its proximity to the bed. Morning glories, for resilience. That’s us, again. For a while, we meander and spread in the upper walls of this space, avoiding the floodwaters which symbolize grief. But eventually, we gather the strength to meander down to the bed, where grief was the strongest.

—

CONCLUSION:

There is that cheesy quote from that one Marvel TV show – “What is grief, but love persevering?” While this reframes our perception of dealing with loss, grief is not some thing that should linger. The absence of grief does not equate to the lack of love. Instead, I would like you to consider this: remembrance is love persevering. And with our combined perseverance, Technoblade will never truly die.

#technoblade #Technoblade never dies #Technoblade fanart #techno fanart #sleepy bois inc #tommyinnit #philza #wilbur soot #qsmp chayanne #skeppy #dream #mcyt #mcyt fanart #fan art #purplealmonds #2023

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thatsouthernstate · 1 year

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January 20, 2023

Her hair is Harlow gold

Her lips sweet surprise

Her hands are never cold

She's got Bette Davis eyes

She'll turn her music on you

You won't have to think twice

She's pure as New York snow

She got Bette Davis eyes

And she'll tease you

She'll unease you

All the better just to please you

She's precocious and she knows just

What it takes to make a pro blush

She got Greta Garbo stand off sighs

She's got Bette Davis eyes

She'll let you take her home

It whets her appetite

She'll lay you on her throne

She got Bette Davis eyes

She'll take a tumble on you

Roll you like you were dice

Until you come up blue

She's got Bette Davis eyes

She'll expose you

When she snows you

Off your feet with the crumbs she throws you

She's ferocious and she knows just

What it takes to make a pro blush

All the boys think she's a spy

She's got Bette Davis eyes

And she'll tease you

She'll unease you

All the better just to please you

She's precocious and she knows just

What it takes to make a pro blush

All the boys think she's a spy

She's got Bette Davis eyes

She'll tease you

She'll unease you

Just to please ya

She's got Bette Davis eyes

She'll expose you

When she snows you

She knows ya

She's got Bette Davis eyes

#today’s vibes #birthday edition!#can we talk about how incredible this song is?!#i love it so much #it’s perfect #what a wild past few days #mostly because it was my birthday yesterday and I’ve been working nonstop for days #I have a huge day on Monday so… guess who’s working all weekend?!#I feel incredibly nervous and scared I need everything to go well #if I was looking for a better work life balance this year this ain’t it 🙈#draw the clown makeup on me now #had to tell everyone I can’t celebrate until after Monday #I can’t wait to be doneeeeeee #still got some nice little things though ☺️#petition to have gifts waiting for me on my desk every time I come to work!#in spite of everything I guess I can’t complain too much 🤗

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sayruq · 5 months

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Hamas propaganda is so much more effective than Israeli propaganda despite not having the support of seemingly every western news organisation. It's simple, clear, cohesive, easy to understand, and therefore believable.

For example, Hamas will film themselves handing over healthy looking hostages to the Red Cross and then interact with them right before they leave to show how friendly the captors and captives have gotten. You watch the videos and you understand everything that is being conveyed immediately.

And it worked. Even the people in my life, who aren't watching the conflict as closely as we have, have seen these images and have spoken in varying levels of surprise at how 'nice' and 'hospitable' Hamas was to the hostages. Keep in mind that these videos came out after weeks of billions of people witnessing the brutal and systemic murder of Palestinian people. The contrasting gentleness of the hostage exchange stood out greatly.

Israeli propaganda is chaotic, it conflicts itself, it's complicated. Look at this for example

In order to explain why the hostages were so friendly with their captors, first, it was because the hostages had Stockholm Syndrom. Naturally, social media, their second greatest enemy, was awash with people refuting the existence of such a syndrome. So, it became that the hostages were actually being held at gun point. While, there were guns present during the hostage handovers, no one was pointing them at hostages in the videos that we all have available. No one was being hostile either. Now, we have the sedative explanation which again can be easily refuted by the videos we all have access to because the hostages didnt seem particularly drowsy. So, we have hostages with Stockholm Syndrome, who had guns pointed at them, and who were sedated. That's just too much. How can Stockholm Syndrome coexist with being held at gun point in front of the Red Cross? Why would they need to threaten the hostages if they're sedated? Which explanation can the average zionist go with? Which one can a neutral party accept?

The same goes for the war propaganda. On one hand you have American officials insisting that Israel would never harm Palestinian civilians on purpose but on the other hand, you have soldiers filming themselves shooting recklessly and with wild abandon into thin air with the implication being that they're battling off screen Hamas. You also have Israel insisting that hospitals, schools and refugee camps are secret Hamas bases but all we are seeing is civilians getting murdered in protected areas. When it comes to war reports, they can't decide if they've killed 1,000 or 5,000 Hamas fighters. No wonder even Israeli commentators have given up on the promise of the complete eradication of Hamas.

The Palestinian resistance have also released war propaganda. Simple, well edited videos showing their fighters actually battling Israeli soldiers and tanks, sometimes very up close. The videos are similar despite featuring different confrontations in the battlefield over a period of time. It's easy for anyone to spot an Al Qassam or Al Quds video. It's even easier to accept their daily war reports because we've seen them back up their claims. The numbers they give are consistent with their capabilities as well as various indicators such as Israel being forced to decommission their older tanks for the war in Gaza. Would they be doing that if they weren't losing their top line tanks fast?

Many zionists have spent the past 2 months confused as to why the whole world has seemingly turned against Israel. I'd point the finger at Israel if I were them, both due to its actions in Gaza and its inability to continue fooling the world.

#yemen #jerusalem #tel aviv #current events #palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #news on gaza #palestine news #news update #war news #war on gaza

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buckys-wintersoldier · 27 days

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A little bit older, a whole lot nicer | Ari Levinson

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> (Ex-)BoyfriendsDad!Ari Levinson x Female!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> When your boyfriend breaks up his dad takes care of you. He will treat you right and even though he is older it doesn’t stop the feelings you have for one another.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 6.402

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, shitty ex-boyfriend, angst, smut, age gap (reader in her early 20’s, Ari in his early 40’s), fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasm, cum eating, hint of Ari’s breeding kink, daddy kink, praises, aftercare, lots of kisses, insulting (ex boyfriend calling her a whore/bitch), fluff

𝐀/𝐍 -> I want to thank @little-miss-dilf-lover for helping me to come up with the ideas. @amathslutsguidetofandom for helping to decide a title. I also want to thank @imtryingbuck for proofreading.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐀𝐑𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The sun is beautiful, brightening the living room of the Levinsons. It's a big room with the most adorable windows you have ever seen; they reach the ground, and when the sun is shining into the house, the living room is the brightest room in the house. The furniture is white, but it still looks soft. In the middle is a large couch you're sitting on right now. It's comfortable and warm; behind your back are some cushions, and your legs are crossed while you let the sun shine on your face.

Noah, your boyfriend, and you have been dating for three years now. He introduced you to his dad pretty soon after you started to date, and since then, you've always been welcome at their house. His dad loved you from the first time he saw you, admiring the way you smile and when your nose is slightly scrunched when you find something disgusting.

"Ari, do you think he will be happy that I'm surprising him?" You ask, shifting slightly and looking around to face the older man.

Ari, who is sitting in the armchair, nods his head before he narrows his eyebrows. His middel long, brown hair falls into his face when he does so, and he wipes the strands with his big hand back behind his ear. His muscles are flexing, and you can see the veins poking out when he moves his arm. The t-shirt he is wearing only covers his shoulder, and you gasp slightly at this view. Even though you have seen it a lot, you always admire it, and your mouth is immediately watering.

"Is everything all right between the two of you?" Ari asks, his steel blue eyes piecring into yours.

You swallow hard, then you nod slightly. You're not sure if it's right or not because Noah acts weird when he is around you. He has less time for you, and when he avoids talks or dates, you only sit around; sometimes you cuddle, but most of the time he just convinces you to let him fuck you. It's not that you don't like it, but he doesn't pay attention to your feelings, and when he comes, he pulls out; he doesn't care if you have pleasure, and when it was him first loving you, it's now only fucking you. No aftercare; just a small kiss before he takes a shower, dresses himself, and lets you take a shower then too. When you watch movies, they are the only ones he likes, and when you ask for one to watch, he tells you the other movie is the one he prefers.

"What is it, princess? Did he hurt you?"

Ari leans forward and places his arms on his thighs, still looking at you. You shiver softly when he looks at you with such an intense stare. You don't know that your boyfriend's father knows you that well, but he does. He knows when you're not feeling well; he sees it in the way your eyes aren't shining as much as they are used to. Your smile is still beautiful, but it doesn't reach your eyes, at least not right now when you try to smile. You shake your head. You want to tell him about the things that aren't as great in yours and Noah's relationship anymore, but you're afraid that Ari will push you away then. Since you feel so welcome in this family, like you never were in your own, you feel safe and loved. But throw it away because you may just ask for too much in a relationship.

"He doesn't do anything. That's the problem, but I probably just ask for too much," you say with a sad smile on your lips before you sigh. "When we were just a few weeks together, he was always so cute; he paid attention when I liked something or when I didn't like it. But now-"

You interrupt yourself when you shake your head slightly. Tears form in your eyes, and you turn your face away so Ari won't see them. You hear him sighing and leaning back. Before you can say something, your phone is buzzing, and you take it to see that Noah sent you a message.

'Hi, I thought a while now about a way to tell you. Sorry, but I have to break up; things between us just don't work anymore.'

You gasp slighly, and when you go on his chat, you see that he changed his profile picture. Noah had the same picture as you — one where you wrapped your arms around his neck and he kissed your cheek. Now he has changed it to him kissing another girl. You feel the tears slowly rolling down your cheeks, and you try not to sob loudly. Your heart aches, your world is breaking down in just a short time, and you feel like there is nothing left but pain. You don't know what hurts more — that he obviously cheated on you or that you lost the only place where you felt really comfortable and safe.

Even though you loved Noah, you fell slowly for his dad. You wouldn't have broken up because you thought Ari was just like a dad for you, but whenever he touches you or the two of you are alone, you feel a tingling in your body. When he looks at you with his intense stare and starts smiling, it warms your heart. But you just thought it was because your father left when you were younger, but Ari would stay up all night with you when Noah would sleep, and you would have a nightmare — you know, because it happened and Ari was making sure you felt better when Noah was ignoring you and mad that you woke him up.

You woke up with sweat covering your whole body; your breath was heavy while you looked through the room with wide eyes. A nightmare woke you up, and you felt like someone was still looking at you. But you couldn't see anyone in the room; you heard your heart beating, the blood rushing through your veins, and you felt the tears all over your cheeks.

"Noah?" You asked quietly, looking for your boyfriend, who was sleeping next to you.

You softly grasped his shoulder and woke him up. The way he looked at you made you shiver; the usual expression full of love was just an annoyed and disappointed one. He didn't care what you wanted; he pushed you back and turned around. You were crying silently, sitting up to pull your knees up and wrap your arms around your legs. But after another groan from Noah and him telling you to be 'fucking quiet now or he will help you out with his dick' you decided to get up and go to the living room.

When you walked out of Noah's room, you already heard the television in the living room. Walking to the room quietly before you looked around to see Ari lying on his couch, his face turned to the television until you cleared your throat. His blue eyes were looking up and down your body for injuries or something. When he didn't see any, he smirked and sat up, showing you to sit down next to him, and you did. Ari was placing a blanket around your shoulders, his broad hand rubbing over your back, while your body was slightly trembling. Your legs bounced up and down, and Ari knew you always did that when you were nervous.

"What's wrong, princess?" He asked, and you felt the shiver along your spine, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body.

"Just a nightmare," you said, pulling the blanket closer around you.

Ari drew small circles on your back and offered you a cup of hot chocolate. You agreed, and he sat there with you, watching the most romantic movies, until you fell asleep in his arms. He laid together with you on the couch, pulling you with your back as close as possible against his rboad chest, and his arm was wrapped around your waist while he watched you half of the night. He had never seen someone more adorable, and he just couldn't bring himself to look away from you.

He can never get enough of you; his eyes are always on you when you're around. And his smirk grows when he hears you laughing. But right now, he just hears the quiet, muffled sobs leaving your pretty lips. Ari sighs, leaning back in his armchair, before he clears his throat, getting your attention.

"I-I'm sorry. I-I should leave now," you mumble quietly.

You want to get up, but your legs feel so weak that you just fall back down on the couch. He looks at you, wanting nothing more, but holds you close and makes sure that whatever caused you to feel that bad disappears. Ari wants to comfort you, but he doesn't want to force you to be close to him if you don't want to.

"Princess, come here," he says, tapping his thigh, and you look at him with red, widening eyes.

Ari almost hisses when he sees the trails of your tears down your cheeks, your red eyes, and the way your bottom lip is slightly wobbling. You swallow thickly and push yourself up from the couch. You make your way over to him slowly. The pain in your chest grows when you think about Noah and the way he was never there for you, but his dad is. Ari is sitting in front of you, his steel-blue eyes showing you so much love. The older man waits for you to sit down on his thigh, and you do, your legs dangling over one of his legs while you sit on the other. Aris' hand is sliding up and down your back, his fingers drawing circles on the fabric of your shirt. Your head is placed against his shoulder, and your tears are soaking the shirt slowly.

“What happened, princess?”

“N-Noah, h-he cheated. A-And he broke up. Am I not good-looking enough? I-I understand when you hate me now; I'm sorry,” you say, fisting his shirt and pulling it tight against you, inhaling his scent deeply.

“Princess, you’re beautiful — the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Looks like Noah just doesn’t know what he is going to lose when he prefers some girl he just hooked up with instead of the beautiful girl who is sitting in my lap right now,” Ari says, his hand sliding higher to your neck.

You lean more against him, his shirt still tightly in your hand, when you look up at him. Your teary eyes meet his ocean one, and you see something in them you have seen so often, but this time it feels different. It feels special. There is something that makes his eyes shine in a combination of lust and love, like the ocean blue has a small bit of darker blue in them. You get lost in his eyes — the way you can see deep into his soul — and he doesn’t stop you; he doesn’t turn away or push you away. Ari is looking into your eyes with such an intention that your legs are getting weak, and if you didn’t sit in his lap, you would probably fall down.

“Ari—" you whisper.

His other hand found its way to your thigh, but you didn’t realize until he squeezed it softly. He smirks and his eyes light up the moment his lips curl up and you bite your lip. The tension between the two of you changed suddenly. You want — you need Ari. The skin underneath his large hand tingles, and you want more of that feeling; you want to forget everything that Noah caused — the pain, the tears. You only want Ari, want to give in to the feeling you both tried to hide for so long.

“What is it, pretty girl?” He asks, pushing you softly away, causing you to sit straight in his lap.

His hands capture your cheeks, and he wipes your tears softly with his thumbs away. Ari’s lips are just a few inches away from yours, and you can feel his breath on your skin, warm and soft. His touches are soft, his thumbs moving lightly over your cheeks. You lean close, closing your eyes, but you don't break the distance, too afraid of what he could do or say when you would do so. Ari chuckles, pulling you even closer, and presses his pink, plump lips on yours. His lips move as softly as possible against yours; they're salty because of your tears, but it doesn't bother the two of you. You part your lips slightly, letting Ari slide his tongue into your mouth, playing with your tongue while his one hand is still holding you by your neck and his other is stroking over your thigh. You feel his fingers inching closer to your core before he moves his hand away.

“Ari, please—" you say, pulling away softly and looking at him through your lashes.

“Princess, we can’t. I’m way too old for you. I shouldn’t have kissed you; I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

He doesn’t think like that, not at all. But your boyfriend just broke up, and Ari would fuck you now — even if he would make love to you — it would be just to distract you from your ex-boyfriend. And as much as he loves you, he doesn’t want to be just a one-time thing for you. His dick is growing in his pants, the kiss was hot, and the thought of you moaning his name underneath him — it turns him on beyond belief, causing his dick to throb and to soak his boxer briefs.

“But I-I love you, and I need you. Ari, please,” you whimper, tears building in your eyes.

Your eyes slide over his broad chest, which is still covered with the shirt he is wearing, over his stomach, and over his pants. His cock is pressing against the fabric, and it’s already visible that he is hard. The bugle in his pants is huge, and you whimper, your eyes focused on it, when you place your hand on top of his pants and press it slightly down. Ari watches you, and he groans when you press your hand into his cock. You can feel him growing even more and smirk softly when you look into Ari’s face.

“Daddy, I need you,” you say, seeing the change in his expression when you call him ‘Daddy’.

“I love you too. But I don’t want to be a one-time thing for you.”

“But you won’t be a one-time thing for me. I've had feelings for you for a while. B-But I thought it was just because you’re like a dad I never had, but everything is tingling when you touch me. You’re so much more than someone like a dad. Please, Ari,” you say, your hand still in his cock.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I can hold back when I get a first taste of you.”

“I’m sure. Ari, please.”

“Good. But be daddy’s good girl, yeah?” He says, smirking when he presses his lips against yours.

His tongue slips immediately past your lips, causing you to moan. Ari has never heard someone as beautiful and attractive as you moan. The older man groans into your mouth, his hand inching closer to your core. The sounds coming out of your pretty mouth make him go crazy; your soft moans are like music for the brown-haired man. Your pussy is dripping, and with every inch he gets closer to your core, you wiggle more on his lap. Ari grasps your thigh tightly, squeezing it until you’re sitting still before he moves his hands further to your pussy.

Ari pulls softly away. Both of you catch your breath while you hold his shirt still in your hands, pulling him as close as possible. His other hand glides to your ass, smacking it softly, making you yelp. Your eyes widen, your lips are still parted, and your breath is heavy when his big hand captures your pussy. Even through the fabric, it feels so intense that you throw your head back and thrust your hips against his hand.

“Don't be so impatient, princess. Daddy needed to wait to get you for so long; now you can let him play with your pussy,” he groans into your ear, kissing down your jawline to your neck.

You whimper, tilting your head to give him more space, and his lips graze over your soft skin before he bites into your neck. Ari’s marking you as is, kissing the spot where he just bites you before he kisses your neck further down. Moan leaves your lips, muffled by you biting on your lip, to stay as quiet as possible.

“Let me hear you, pretty girl. Daddy wants to hear those sweet sounds when he makes you feel good,” Ari murmurs against your skin.

“But what when you don’t like it? Ari—" you interrupt yourself when you feel another wave of tears in your eyes and then down your cheeks.

Ari stops with his kisses and removes his hand from between your thighs. He takes your hand — which is still placed in his dick — in his big one. He then brings your hands to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly. The older man looks the whole time at you, searching for a change in your eyes or in your expression. When you smile softly at him, he still sees the uncertainty in your eyes. The way your lip is slightly wobbling and your leg is bouncing so softly, but he sees it. Ari smiles softly at you, kissing your cheek and the corner of your mouth. He then presses his lips softly against yours.

“I love to hear your pretty moans. So sweet and lovely, princess,” he mumbles against your lips, peppering some kisses along your jawline.

“And when you think I’m ugly when we have sex?”

“I won’t think that. You know why?” He asks, and you shake your head. “Because you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. And Daddy’s has seen a lot of girls, but none got his attention like you get it.”

You smile, pulling your hand out of his and taking his hand in yours, guiding them back to your pussy. Ari chuckles, placing his hand on your lower stomach and rubbing his fingers in small circles over your clit. You moan, throwing your head back while you grasp his arm to steady yourself. Ari slips his hand underneath your pants and panties, his fingers moving closer to your wet entrance. He groans when he feels your arousal coating his fingers. He gazes at some of the slick around his digits and smears it all over your pussy. He plays with your clit, twirling it between his fingers before he slides his fingers once again through your folds.

“You like that, pretty girl?”

You nod, earning a soft slap on your ass. You squeal, and your eyes widen when you look at him.

“I need you to use your words, princess.”

“I-I like it, daddy,” you mumble, blushing.

Ari chuckles, pulling his hand out of your pants and smirking even more when you groan, frustrated. He grasps your hips and lifts you up, getting up as well and walking into his bedroom. You wrap your legs around his waist, and his hands hold you firmly by your ass when he enters his bedroom and places you on the bed. It’s a big one, a comfortable one, and you sigh softly when you feel the plush sheet underneath you. Ari has a lot of pillows in his bed, which isn’t as interesting as him pulling off his shirt.

A soft moan escapes your lips when you see his high-defined abs and his brown, curly chest hair. Your mouth drops open, admiring him. Ari smirks, walking a step closer, while he unbuckles his pants and lets them slip down his legs. You sit up, reaching out to slide your hand over his chest, feeling the soft hair underneath your skin. When your gaze glides lower, you see the outline of his cock; his dick is pressing against the fabric of his boxers. Where his tip is, there is a small, dark spot, showing the pre-cum leaking from his cock.

“Like what you see, babygirl?” He asks with a grin on his pink lips.

You nod, and your hand moves smoothly down over his abs until you graze with your fingers the waistband of his boxer briefs. Ari follows your movement with his steel-blue eyes, smirking when you hesitate before you let go of the fabric and look up at him. He places his hand on your cheek, caressing your skin before he pushes you by your shoulders back. You crawl backwards, placing your head on the soft pillows, and rest your arms underneath your upper body, pushing yourself up. Ari gets on the bed as well, his hands gliding soothingly over your body. When he grasps your thighs with his small hands, he pushes your legs further apart, making space to place himself between them. The older man settles his large body between your spread legs, laning over and placing his hands on both sides of your shoulders. With a smirk, he leans further down, pressing his lips softly on yours, his tongue sliding over your lips.

“Ar— Daddy, please,” you moan, hands running along his muscular man up to his broad shoulders, where you dig your fingers softly into soft skin.

He smirks, kissing down your jawline, over your neck, until he reaches your collarbone, which is still covered by your shirt. You throw your head back, letting yourself fall deeper into the pillows, and sigh softly. Ari's hands grib the hem of your shirt, and he chuckles softly, thinking a moment to just rip it off. But he decides against it and pushes it higher, revealing your stomach. You arch your back, letting him shove the fabric over your breasts, then you sit up, and Ari takes your shirt completely off. He throws it to the side and unclasps your bra. Aris touches and movements are soft and slow. When he throws your bra away to your shirt, he pushes you back down.

“Fuck, look at you. Beautiful,” he mumbles, his hand sliding over your collarbone to one of your breasts.

He kneads your soft breast in his hand, and his thumb slides over your nipple. You moan softly, arching your back to get more of his soft touches. The older man leans down, sliding his tongue over your nipple, causing you to yelp in surprise. His touches and movements are so intense. He sucks softly at your nipple, his hand playing with your other breast. Ari moves his lips further down over your stomach, kissing every inch before he reaches your panties. His fingers hook up with the waistband of your pants, shoving them together with your panties down. The older man groans when he sees your pussy. He removes your pants, settling back between your legs, and admires your pussy. You try to close your legs; his intense stare causes you to feel slightly ashamed.

“Spread your legs for Daddy; he wants to see your pretty pussy,” he groans, grabbing your thighs and pushing them further apart.

Your folds are glistening, and he inches his face closer to your dripping pussy. Ari lays on his stomach, and when his eyes are focused on your pussy, he leans closer, kissing your folds softly. You arch your back, your hands flying into his hair, and you tug harshly at them. Ari's warm breath hits your wetness, and when he licks a strap along your folds, you moan loudly, your eyes closing, and you push yourself more against him.

“There she is, good girl,” he praises.

Ari dips his tongue into your entrance, groaning when you clench around it. He pulls it out of you, using one of his hands to guide it to your entrance. The brown-haired man coats his fingers in your arousal before he pushes one digit slowly into you. Ari moves his finger in and out of you, feeling your tight walls clench around his finger. You moan softly, arching your back, while you push yourself more against him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans.

The older man leans closer, capturing your clit with his lips, and sucks softly at your sensitive spot. Your eyes roll back while his tongue twirls around your clit. His long, thick finger is moving against your sweet spot. The brown-haired man pushes another finger into you, scissoring and curling them. Ari knows exactly what he is doing with his tongue and fingers, hitting all the right spots. You feel the knot building up in your lower stomach; your moans are breathless. You tug more on his hair, pulling him closer to your pussy. Ari groans against your clit, causing a vibration through your body. A shiver runs along your spine, tears forming in your eyes, slowly rolling down your cheeks while you whimper softly.

“Aww, pretty girl. Don’t cry. Daddy's gonna take care of you; do you wanna come, princess?” He asks, looking at you.

You nod, gripping his hair tighter. He places his lips back on your clit, sucking softly. The older man pumps his fingers at a steady pace into and out of you. Your slick is dripping out of you, coating his fingers. Ari hits your sweet spot a few more times, your walls clenching hard around him, sucking him deeper into your tight cunt. Your breath hitches when you come all over his fingers. Ari groans, pulling his fingers out of you and licking a strap down to your entrance. He laps at your pussy, taking all your juice. A deep groan leaves his lips, sucking softly while he tastes your sweet cum.

“You’re tasting so good, princess. Could eat you out the whole day,” he says and smirks.

Ari gives you a moment to come down from your high. He brings his fingers to your mouth, waiting until you part your lips for him to push his fingers into your mouth. Twirling your tongue around his fingers and slowly sucking at them causes him to groan. He leans closer, pulling his fingers out of your mouth to press his lips against yours. His lips move hard against yours, full of desperation. Your hands slide along his back, scratching slowly over his soft skin.

He lets go of you, pushing himself up before he removes his boxers. The brown-haired man’s dick springs free, slapping against his stomach. Ari’s cock is huge; a vein is running along the underside of his shaft; your mouth waters; and you swallow to not suddenly drool because of the sight of his cock. His tip is red and leaking with pre-cum. Ari crawls back on the bed, pushing your legs further apart and getting between them. He grasps the base of his cock, slapping his tip softly on your pussy, You yelp in surprise, wiggling your ass in anticipation.

“You’re sure you want that?” He asks softly, his other hand reaching out to caress your cheek softly.

When you nod your head softly, Ari slides his cock through your folds, coating his dick in your arousal. He then lines himself up with your entrance and pushes the tip of his huge length into your tight pussy. Ari enters you slowly, stretching you out around his cock. Your hands rest on his back, grasping into his shoulders to give you some hold while he pushes inch by inch into you. You moan, looking into his blue eyes through your lashes, while Ari leans closer to press his lips on yours.

“You’re feeling so good, pretty girl. So tight, just made for Daddy,” he says, smirking when you clench around him.

He pushes his dick balls deep into you, staying still to give you a moment to adjust around his length. Ari is huge, and you feel a soft pain in your pussy, but when he starts to thrust his hips softly, it turns into pleasure. The older man is pulling his cock out of you before he thrusts his hips against yours again. He moves at a slow pace into you, feeling your tight walls clench around him, squeezing him so well that he feels like he wants to push his cum into you immediately.

“Can’t get enough of that pretty pussy. My pretty pussy, my princess,” Ari mumbles, pressing his lips against yours.

Ari thrusts his cock at a harder and faster pace into your pussy. You moan loudly, and your eyes widen when he hits your sweet spot with every thrust. Your walls are squeezing his length; Ari’s cock is throbbing. His mind is running wild when he remembers that he is fucking you without a condom right now — the thought of him pushing his seeds deep into your sweet cunt and pumping you full with his cum.

“I’m gonna give you all my cum, pump you so full, and push it deep into your pussy, pretty girl,” he groans, throwing his head back when you suddenly squeeze him even tighter.

The tip of his cock is hitting your sweet spot. Ari’s thrusts are fast but still soft. His balls are slapping against your ass, and his hips crash against yours. Sweat is running over your forehead, and you can feel Ari sweating just as much underneath your hands on his back. His chest hair is scratching over your breasts while he pushes in and out of you.

“Daddy, please, I’m so close,” you whine, arching your back.

Pleasure in your stomach grows with every thrust of his dick into you. His tip hits your sweet spot every time he pushes into you. The feeling of your growing orgasm gets more intense, and when Ari slips his hand between your bodies to play with your clit you throw your head back. Your eyes roll back, your mouth drops open, and you squirt all over his dick. Your walls are clenching around Ari’s cock. He groans loudly and comes just a moment after you. He pushes his cum deep into your pussy, fucking you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, you squeeze me so well. You’re feeling so good, and you’re so beautiful, princess.”

You smirk, blushing at his words. Ari’s hand slides to your face, caressing your cheek before he runs his fingers through the strands that are in your face, and he swipes them softly out of your face, bringing them behind your ear. Ari kisses you softly, pulling his cock out of you. You hiss about the sudden emptiness, feeling his seeds throbbing out of you.

"Ari—" you whine, grasping his shoulder tighter.

“Let’s clean you, and then we cook your favorite food, oke?” Ari asks, and you nod with a shy smile on your lips.

Ari gets up, walking around the bed before he picks you up and carries you into the bathroom to go to the toilet, while he looks for boxers and a shirt for you. When you finish and wash your hands, he holds the clothes up, smirking when your eyes light up. Before you can grab it, he pulls it away, wrapping his arm around your waist, and lifts you up, walking further into the bathroom to let you sit on the edge of the bathroom.

"Need to clean you first,” he says, laughing softly when you pout.

He then takes a washcloth and puts it under water. Ari brings the washcloth to your thighs, spreads them softly, then washes your inner thighs and your pussy. His touches are soft, but the friction at your sensitive push is enough to make you moan. Ari smirks while cleaning you before he hands you a towel to dry yourself and take on the clothes while he cleans himself as well.

“Ari?”

“Mhm?” He asks, turning around to look at you with a worried expression.

“You know that you could have impregnated me now?”

Ari’s eyes widen when he looks at you; he definitely thought about it. But it just turned him on, and hearing it now, he isn’t sure what you’re thinking about it. He walks closer, his arms wrapping around your waist, and he pulls you against his chest.

“Would it be bad?”

You shake your head. It wouldn’t, not at all. You have seen Ari often with kids, and he is so soft and sweet. Ari grins, leaning closer to capture your lips before he cleans himself to get dressed as well.

Ari made the two of you your favorite food, letting you sit on the kitchen counter while he always kissed you when he passed you. So he kissed you a whole lot because he walked past you on purpose. When he was cooking, his hand was resting on your thigh, and you looked at him while he was all concentrating on cooking. He filled your food on two plates and told you to get into the living room and make it comfortable while he took the plates to bring them over.

When you’re eating, you watch a movie, but Ari is focused on you because of the way you look so adorable and sweet, especially when you laugh about a silly joke in the movie. After both of you finish eating, you’re curled up on his side. At least until you hear the keys in the door before it swings open and you hear footsteps, the closing of the door, and then your ex-boyfriend walks into the living room, looking at Ari before he sees you curled up at his side.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He hisses, raising his eyebrow.

“I-“ you stutter, not sure what to say, but luckily Ari helps you out when he turns to face Noah.

“We watched a movie and had lunch together.”

“That’s why she is wearing your clothes?” Noah asks suspiciously. “You— Please tell me you didn’t fuck her, did you?”

Ari and you stay quiet; you just whimpe quietly, causing the older man to pull you even more against him. His hand draws small circles on your back when he almost pulls you onto his lap.

“That’s disgusting. You just fucked that little whore?” Noah shouts; his expression shows nothing but disgust.

The older man pushes you softly away before he gets up from the couch. His jaw is clenching, and you hear him inhaling deeply. Ari walks close to Noah, with a bit of distance between them. He sighs before inhaling deeply once again.

“Watch your mouth! I haven’t raised you like that. Cheating on her and now insulting her as a whore. Firstly, maybe we shouldn’t have had sex, but we did. And secondly, just because we had sex doesn’t mean she is a whore. You haven’t treated her the way she deserves while you were together; you pushed her away and hooked up with a girl, breaking up with Y/N for that other girl.” Ari says, his voice calm but stern, and you shiver slightly.

His words are causing some tears in your eyes. Is he thinking that it wasn’t good to have sex with you? Maybe he regrets having had sex with you. The tears slowly make their way over your cheeks, and you turn your face away.

“I broke up with her because I hooked up with a girl who let me fuck her like I want!”

“Noah! I thought I'd raised you well, not selfishly. A girl or a woman is not a toy, and sex is not only to please you. Go into your room. We can talk about it when you calm down, but before you're not, we are not going to talk about it. I don’t want you to shout or insult.” Ari says, shaking his head slightly.

“So you pick her over me? Why can’t she leave our house?”

“Because I say so!” Ari says, sternly.

Noah hums, annoyed, as he walks into his room. He slams the door, making you flinch and look with widened eyes at Ari, who immediately looks worried when he sees the tears on your cheeks. He walks to the couch, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his lap. His hands hold your hips tightly while he presses his soft lips on yours.

“What are those tears for?” He asks, bringing his hands to your cheeks, to wipe the tears with his thumbs away.

“I’m sorry. You had sex with me without really wanting it, didn't you?”

“No! I wouldn’t have had sex with you when I wouldn’t have wanted it just as much as you. I’m sorry it sounded like that. I love you, princess,” he mumbles, kissing you.

“I will sleep at my girl's house tonight. Don’t want to hear you fucking that bitch,” Noah says.

“I told you not to talk like that!” Ari says still in a calm voice, but you can hear the anger in his voice.

You slide your hands along his chest, drawing some small circles to calm him down. When Noah mumbles something and calls his girl to tell her, he comes over, and the brown-haired man sighs. Ari turns his face to you, tears glistening in his eyes, and you do the same as he did before and wipe them away with your thumbs. He smiles softly, leaning in to kiss you, his tongue sliding over your lips, and you part them softly.

“I love you, princess. So much, and I don’t regret that we had sex,” he mumbles against your lips.

“I love you too, Ari. Are we-“ you interrupt yourself, unsure what he is going to say when you ask him if you’re together.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Ari asks with a smirk, and you nod before pressing your lips against his once again.

“Yes!”

Ari laughs, pulling you even closer before he hands you the remote to let you decide which movie you want to watch next. His arms are wrapped around your waist, and he pulls you close while he kisses your neck, causing you to giggle and wiggle softly in his lap.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @capsbestgirl77 @princesscore-angel

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lesbian-for-arthur-morgan · 10 months

Note

do you have any headcanons for arguing and making up? i’m a slut for angst with comfort 🙈

Making Up After a Fight

Gender Neutral Language!

Genre: slight angst, fluff Featuring: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, and Sean MacGuire Warnings: Dutch is kind of toxic | Not edited

AN: Sorry it took me so long to get these written! I went through some nasty writer's block and decided to play the game a little to help out but all that did was distract me for a week. This is definitely pretty roughly written - I'm also a huge slut for angst with comfort, though, so I hope you like these! <3 ---> Requests are open! Check out guidelines if you have any questions

<><><><>

Arthur Morgan:

Arthur gets frustrated easily when he feels like he’s not being listened to or understood. It’s not really anyone’s fault, but his emotions can get the better of him and he’ll say something that he doesn’t mean.

“You got bait for brains or are you just being an idiot for fun?” (or something like that)

You know in the back of your head that he doesn’t mean it, and he regrets it the second the syllables bounce off his lips. Your brain can know something but your heart will still hurt all the same.

Usually when Arthur is getting too big for his britches with you, you can shut him down and put him in his place. It’s something he highly respects about you - not putting up with his bullshit when he gets like that. Sometimes, though, your eyes will start to water and you can’t say anything without feeling a lump in your throat constricting your vocal chords.

You have to turn and walk away or else you’ll cry in front of him. That would just make everything worse.

Seeing your form retreating, knowing that you’re running off because you’re hurt rather than angry, made Arthur’s chest grow heavy with guilt. His first instinct is to follow after you and hold you until you’re feeling better.

But since he’s the one who hurt you, he just lets you walk away and he goes to pout since he thinks he deserves to be outcast for a little while.

He’ll give you as much space as he can bear, avoid you for an hour maybe two, but he comes crawling back with those puppy dog eyes and a singular wild flower in his fist.

He’ll go to his cot where you’re sitting with his hat in your lap. You stopped being upset five or ten minutes after the argument. Once you took a few deep breaths you understand, but you also had to understand that Arthur would come back to you after he was done punishing himself.

So you waited.

When you saw him approach with that sheepish expression and slouched posture your heart bled for him. He was a brute and an ass at times, but he meant well.

“’M’sorry, Darlin’,” He’d mumble and get on his knees in front of you. “I didn’t mean it, I never mean it.”

He places the flower in your lap by his hat and gazes up at you. His hair is long and falling in front of his eyes a little, so you brush the strands away from his forehead to get a better look at him.

His blue eyes are a little red and there’s a deep crease in his forehead from an hour or so of constant worrying.

“You can be so mean sometimes, Arthur Morgan,” You scold him lightly and he sighs, nodding.

“I know.”

He spends the rest of the week making it up to you. Truly it doesn’t matter exactly what was said or what the argument was about, when you are truly hurt by his words/actions it kills him. He’ll punish himself for a bit then come back ready to spoil you with words, presents, kisses, and anything else you could possibly ask for.

John Marston:

He’s constantly arguing with you about something. A lot of the time he just picks at you to get a rise out of you - he thinks it’s funny.

Things can get out of hand quickly with him if he grates on a nerve of yours and you bite back though. His first instinct is to give a smartass retort and it just spirals into a full-blown fight from there.

“John Marston you are a pig!”

You storm off and hide in your tent for a while. He’s just standing there dumbfounded. He starts asking himself why he let it get to that point, why did he have to open his big ol’ mouth and antagonize you?

He tries to get you to talk to him, he’ll pace in front of the tent and start calling your name nicely. He won’t ever open the flap though, he doesn’t want to invade your space and risk riling you up anymore.

When you ignore him he’ll eventually get the hint and wander off.

He tries to figure out something to do while he thinks about how to make it up to you. He offers to help Arthur out with any bounty hunts or little jobs, he’ll offer to take Bill or Lenny into town, or he’ll just pick up extra shifts of being on lookout for the camp.

When you finally come out he has to restrain the urge to run to you and scoop you up, demanding that you forgive him so that he can stop pouting.

He does drop whatever it is he’s doing to approach you and makes small talk to test the waters.

“How are you?”

“Fine, John.”

“That’s good… You still mad at me?”

You roll your eyes and try to walk away, but he shoots out and grabs your hand before you can get too far. He doesn’t hold you tightly; his fingers gently encase your own, if you wanted to leave you could easily. But, you falter with your back turned to him and wait for him to speak.

“I’m sorry, really. You know I’m an idiot.” He’s practically whining as he says it, begging for you to look at him.

You turn your head slightly to give him a side glare. At first, the sight makes his heart drop into his feet and he thinks he really screwed up this time, but when a small smirk starts to quirk the corner of your mouth upwards he lets out a low sigh.

“You are cruel,” He chuckles and tightens his grip as he pulls you into his arms and wraps you up in a bear hug.

Your laughs are loud and genuine as he twirls you around, pressing chaste kisses to your cheeks as he does so. Your voices echo throughout the camp once again.

Everyone in camp knows what’s going on with you and John whether you’re fighting or making up, your business is everyone else’s.

Dutch Van Der Linde:

I want to start out by saying Dutch never actually apologizes when you two fight. He’ll buy gifts, say pretty words, whisper sweet nothings, and all the like, but the words “I’m sorry” have never left that man’s lips in his entire life. He will not start now.

Dutch’s obsession with the O’Driscoll’s can cloud his judgment on many things, it makes him blind to reason. Further than that, it makes him hateful and sometimes just plain mean.

He trusts you, he loves you. So, you’re stuck listening to his plans and his grievances with the gang, the law, the O’Driscoll’s, and any other misfortune he has had to endure in his life.

He’ll go on and on, plotting, groaning, whining. One night, after being sat on his cot for hours, you’ve had enough. You beg him to do anything but complain and come up with a half-brained plan to get rich quick.

It hits a nerve and he blows a fuse.

“You don’t understand what’s at stake, do you?” He’s practically yelling. “It’s so easy for you - I spoil you!”

You’re stunned into silence as he shouts at you. You didn’t expect him to blow up.

“Get out of my tent, get out of my sight!” He sends you away. In a daze you stumble out of the tent and into the dark camp.

There’s a few people still up wandering around. Mary-Beth is singing by the fire and Kieran is trying to sing with her, but doesn’t really know the words. Your feet start moving on their own and you take a seat across from the two at the fire.

“What’s going on, gunslinger?” Karen shuffles to a seat beside you and settles down. Mary-Beth’s singing falters for a minute but she continues on, just quieter.

“Dutch is pissed.” You mumble, staring into the flames.

“When is he not? Have a drink,” Karen shoves a bottle of beer into your hand and watches as you take a long swig. She continues, “Have some fun without him for once.”

The night takes a turn from there. You sing and dance and laugh. A few more people join in until it’s gone from moping around the fire to a proper party around it. Javier even brings out the guitar. The noise is enough to draw Dutch from the dark hole in his tent to see what’s going on.

When he sees you, the tears on your cheeks have dried and your face is flushed from the drinks, he can’t help but feel a little guilty. To him, afterall, you were just naive. You didn’t understand what was truly going on in the camp, didn’t understand his plans.

He creeps out of the tent and sneaks up behind you as you’re dancing along to Javier and Mary-Beth. When a pair of arms wraps around your waist, you let out a little squeal.

Dutch spins you around so that you’re facing him, your bodies pressed flush together causing a heat to flare in your stomach.

“My beautiful dancer,” Dutch mumbles and presses a soft kiss to your lips. You don’t fight, don’t ask any questions. You’re just happy that he seems to be sorry for what he did. He’s holding you after all of that, kissing you. He must be sorry, and so are you.

When he pulls back you gaze at him with half-lidded eyes. “I’m sorry, Dutch.” You whisper.

“Hush now,” He starts swaying as he holds you, leading you into a dance.

Your fight is practically forgotten by the end of the night. In the early hours of the morning, everyone is stumbling back to their respective beds. Stomachs are full and heads will be aching come noon, but to you it was all worth it. So long as you and Dutch aren’t fighting anymore.

Javier Escuella:

He hates fighting. I mean not in general, but just with you.

He won’t allow himself to be taken advantage of or walked all over, but if there’s some stupid argument that’s making you mad he will roll over and apologize. Just to keep the peace.

He loves you more than he loves being right, and if it makes you happy to just admit that then so be it.

When y’all do fight, though, it’s over something big. Stupid quarrels are so rare that the first time anyone catches wind that the two of you had a falling out it shocks half the camp to the core.

Javier would only truly get upset with you in a life or death situation. Like when you decided to not tell anyone you were heading into town really quick and met a few O’Driscoll’s in the general store.

When you saw them you recognized them as few that had gotten into a fight with Javier in town a few weeks ago. Javier let them walk away to save face, there was a large group of witnesses that would have pretty much guaranteed him an execution if he had taken their lives.

Your heart skipped a beat as one of them turned to look at you, but they left shortly after you entered the store and you prayed that would be the end of it.

After you finished at the store, though, you walked through the door to find the three men standing in the road before you. Their arms were folded across their chests and their legs spread in a dominant stance.

You clutched the items you bought to your chest and tried walking away from the trio, but one of them called out and made you stop in your tracks.

“You’re one of Dutch’s people ain’t you?” The tallest one said. It wasn’t really a question, he knew who you were.

“And what’s it to you, mister?” You shot back, reaching for the dagger in your belt.

“I’ve got a few questions for you about your boss.” The three of them started moving towards you. They surrounded you and backed you to the wall of the general store. You whipped out your dagger to tell them to back off, but it wouldn’t do much against three of them - you knew that and so did they.

The only reason you had made it out of that situation without even a scratch was because Arthur happened to be riding through town on his way back to camp and noticed the commotion.

He brought you back to camp, and that’s where you saw Javier standing at your cot with this arms crossed and a scowl darkening his features.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He practically shouts at you.

You didn’t mean to, you held them back as long as you could, but tears start flowing freely down your face in large, hot drops.

Javier’s scowl disappears almost immediately. He didn’t expect you to cry. Maybe yell back or explain yourself, but not cry. He drops his arms and grabs both of your hands in his.

“Are you okay?” His voice is low and laced with worry. Arthur got to him first and told him what happened briefly, so he knew you weren’t physically hurt, but other than that he didn’t know what happened.

“They surrounded me. I was - I was so scared, Javier.” Your throat was thick and it was hard to speak. Javier embraced you, rubbing your back and holding the back of your head as you cried harder into his shoulder.

“You’re safe now,” He assures you and presses soft kisses into your hair.

He spends the next few days feeling guilty for being mad at first.

You tell him you understand his reaction and that you were sorry,but he just says sorry back to you and claims he shouldn’t have been angry when you were scared.

You’re both equally sorry, I guess.

After that, though, Javier refuses to let you go anywhere alone. You don’t have to go with him but you have to have a traveling buddy in case anything like that happens again.

Charles Smith:

Doesn’t fight with anyone, really.

Sure, you can get mad at him and yell and hold a grudge, but he just lets you figure your emotions out from afar if that’s what you need. He gives you space when you need it, attention when you want it, and does anything that he can for you.

He loves you more than anything in the world, so when you’re mad at him it eats away at his insides until you make up. He’s literally the consent king, though, and will wait for you to come to him before he initiates anything.

It feels like he doesn’t care sometimes. It drives you crazy that he doesn’t chase after you and try to make up with you then and there or rectify the situation immediately, which turns into another argument.

“Do you even give a shit what I feel?” You frown at him one morning after a small argument that he just brushed off from the night before. He assumed since you slept with him in his bedroll, that meant you were over it.

“I love you! What are you talking about?” He rubs at the little stubble on his chin in exasperation.

“You never listen you just say ‘okay’ and move on. You don’t learn that way, Charles. You roll over and the same thing will keep happening because you aren’t listening.” You try to explain yourself. Charles nods but you can’t tell if he actually gets what you’re trying to convey since he never acknowledges it more than that.

You sigh and get up.

“I need a minute, come talk to me when you can.” You walk away from him and towards Miss Grimshaw doing the laundry.

Charles just stays where he is and lets out a long deep sigh. He thought it would be better for him to just agree with you, it would make you happy to be agreed with rather than continuing to fight over something so trivial.

He hasn’t been with the group for a super long time, but he’s created a strong bond with Arthur. So, that’s who he goes to to ask for advice on the whole situation.

Charles relays as much as he can back to Arthur and the cowboy just starts to chuckle at the absurdity of the conversation. He’s used to people coming to him for advice (he doesn’t really get why), but the situation with you and Charles came out of nowhere for him. He didn’t realize you two fought ever.

“No relationship is perfect, Charles.” Arthur suggests.

That’s literally no help to him so Charles walks off and tries thinking what to do. He comes up with nothing, though. Which makes him frustrated.

He starts walking towards you. You look up and see his determined face and scrunched brow and excuse yourself to meet him halfway.

“We need to talk.” He says, his words are intense but his gaze is still soft. You aren’t scared of him anyways.

“I think we do.” You reply and follow him to a private area right outside of camp.

The whole time he goes off about how he doesn’t get what you want from him. What you expect him to do or say when you get mad or annoyed.

“I just want to know you care about me and my emotions.”

“Dear, I care about you more than anything in the world. More than life itself, why do you question it?” He’s basically pleading with you to understand him, to finally see that just because he isn’t as forward with every single thought (good or bad) on his mind doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you or your emotions.

It takes little to no time for you to throw your arms around him in an embrace and mumble an apology into his hair.

Even your big fights aren’t really fights.

Sean MacGuire:

Sean does stupid stuff all the time. Literally he does stupid stuff more often than he does anything smart.

Especially when he’s drunk.

One night a small group of some of the gang decided to head into the saloon in town for a drinks for the night. You and Sean were always up for a good time and tagged along - obviously.

It presented opportunity for a little pickpocketing as well (if you didn’t get too drunk and sloppy to do it).

Everything went well for the first hour. Drinks were shared among the group and laughs were bellowing through the air with a contagious warmth. Better yet, no one seemed to be testing the waters and starting a bar fight.

Sean had his arm around you the entire night. He claimed it was to let all the scoundrels at the bar know that you were his and no one should even try to stake a claim to you.

You rolled your eyes but stayed nestled in the spot.

That is, until you were pulled away by your bladder. All the drinks were catching up to you and you slipped from under him to run to the restroom really quick.

When you came back, though, a working woman had taken advantage of your absence to catch Sean’s attention.

In his drunken state, Sean couldn’t even realize that the weight of the woman beside him wasn’t the same as when you were sitting there before. He didn’t say a thing as her arms wrapped around his torso or when she ran her fingers through his longish hair.

Tears fill your eyes almost instantly. You try to blink them away and get a better look at the scene in front of you, but it doesn’t change. It only gets worse as her lips start leaving rougey red stains on his neck.

“Sean!” You shove at his shoulder. When he sees you in front of him, his bleary red eyes turn to the woman beside him. His brain takes a minute to put two and two together, but by the time he has figured the situation out you are pushing through saloon patrons to get out into the night air.

Sean sobers up immediately. He pries himself out of the grasp of the other woman and follows your trail out the door.

He calls your name over and over again until he finally finds you sitting on the street corner crying into your knees.

“Please, Love!” He approaches you and your head whips up at the sound of his voice.

“You stay away from me you dog.” You snap and get up. You’re still pretty drunk as well however and you wobble and nearly fall over at the sudden movement.

Luckily Sean catches you by the arm before you can tumble into the dirt.

“I didn’t know she was there, honest. Thought you was there beside me.” He lifts a hand to your cheek, ready to brush away some of your tears, but you turn your cheek and shrug him off.

“Sure.” You say and try to walk away. He catches your arm again and turns you towards him once more.

“Honest, Love. Why would I pay for sex anyways - I’ve not a penny to me name and you give it to me for free.”

The sentiment was there, but definitely not the right thing to say.

You have to physically restrain yourself from hitting him upside the head at his words.

He sees the struggle on your face as soon as he says it and clamps a hand over his mouth.

“Sean MacGuire you bastard!” You shout at him, but can’t help a weak laugh from erupting from your throat at the end.

“I didn’t mean that, oh lord I didn’t.” The terror in his face only causes you to laugh harder.

The laughter surprises him and even yourself, so much so that the both of you are laughing. Though you don’t really understand why.

“If you ever-“ You say with a mocking glare, “Ever do something like that or say something like that again, I am leaving you Sean MacGuire.”

“I wouldn’t blame you one bit,” He says somberly, still with a small smile.

<><><><>

I didn't write for Sadie because I genuinely could not think of a situation for her or how she would be, my brain died halfway through writing Sean's. I'll just have to write some Sadie focused hc's next time teehee~

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souloftheintrovert · 2 years

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yeah so let’s talk about that last reblog because i think that is so fucking interesting.

#.souloftheintrovert #like i stay awake at night wondering what’s gonna kill off all humans #will it be war? or how badly we’re taking care of the earth? or will it just be the sun exploding?#what will the sun look like afterwards? what planets will it take with it?#also is it really 5 billion years? because all of my sources tell me that it takes 10000 years for a star to turn into a nebula #edit: it probably meant years after explosion #but then again i never got a straight answer for that. i got somewhere between 10000 and 30 million #ALSO does that mean when the earth turns around 5 billion the sun will explode?#or is it correctly counted & it’s really gonna be 5 billion years #i believe in coming back as something after you die (hell & heaven sound kinda silly to me) so i can imagine ‘myself’ in a few billion #years watching the sun explode before my eyes #in 2022 it sounds cool but… your death is set in stone. humans can only last a few days without the sun. if that #you’re going to die and there is not a single thing you can do to stop it. go to space? with who’s oxygen?#some say when it explodes. its taking mercury and venus (ive seen few people include earth) with it #which is the closest answer i’ll get when i wonder where other planets are. but apparently everything behind mars is safe?#which got me wondering.#IS THE UNIVERSE EVER GONNA BE FUCKING EMPTY? WHAT WILL WE (we being no one cause we’re fucking DEAD) DO???#i guess then we’ll finally see if god is real or not huh?#this is all my curiosity running wild. the information you got here could be false. i only checked a few websites & havent even read much #into them #but its so interesting to me

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jo-harrington · 3 months

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Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Prologue: Crossover

Summary: Everyone wishes that they could have an Eddie Munson in their lives. In a strange turn of events, Eddie wishes that he could meet you, his favorite character from a cult classic 80's TV series. And he's about to get his wish.

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Minor Angst, Fluff, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events

Note: Hello and welcome. I'm very excited about getting to expand on this idea; it's going to be a wild ride. Please note as you head in, and as we get into further chapters...this fic is going to be a little mind-fucky and a little bit self aware. This is my love letter to and my criticism of fanfiction, but at the end of the day, we're still gonna get to fall in love with Eddie and get some kind of Happily Ever After. This is my guarantee.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

May 2022. Such a weird time.

A time of uncertainty, a time of change. A time where the world seemed like it had been torn apart and was slowly being knit back together again.

But then a switch was flipped. Something happened. An old season ended and a new one started and with that start came something new. Someone new. And suddenly, countless people began to yearn for this new person in their lives.

A new, old person. Eddie Munson.

Joy ignited. Creativity sparked. Millions of words written and read. Edits made. Art drawn. Merch bought.

So many voices crying “why isn’t he real. WHY ISN'T HE REAL.”

If there was a god, he would let them have their own Eddie Munson. And if there was a Satan, he would let them sell their souls for Eddie Munson.

That’s just not how the universe works.

At least…not this one...

October 1985. A different kind of place and time. Still weird.

But Eddie Munson was real.

Sometimes to his detriment.

And for the most part, it was alright.

He played guitar, laughed with friends, mocked bullies to protect the people like him that were considered less than. He'd overcome hardships of one sort or another for most of his life, he could keep at it for a little while longer.

It would be his day week month year sometime soon.

Wouldn't it?

But until then, he would bide his time. Hopefully, this year, he'd pass all of his classes and finally graduate. Get to flip that douchebag Higgins off and snatch up a long-awaited, and well-deserved diploma.

What made it all easier, what softened the blow...was you.

It was silly. He knew that. Ronnie used to tease him on Wednesday nights when he needed to run home because he had a "standing date with his girl."

"Your girl doesn't even know you're alive," she'd scoff as he bustled her into the van. "She isn't real."

No...no you weren't.

Why couldn't you be real.

See, for the past...however long Eddie had spent his late nights half-assing homework, planning campaigns for Hellfire, working on music, and watching a television show. His guilty pleasure, a show about the ups and downs and upside downs of living in a sleepy suburban town: Port Geneva.

A show where you were his favorite character.

And crush.

You weren't the main character--in fact, you were just the main character's quirky best friend--but you were a fan favorite, as much as he could tell. You'd only been in the background during the first season, but before long you were front and just-left-of-center. And last year, you'd even gotten a two-episode arc in the season finale as you turned the small town on its head by announcing, a month or two before graduation, that you were quitting school to follow your dream and become an artist.

And man...Eddie had been there.

He'd actually missed those episodes airing when...well, when everything happened with his father and the heist...and the house...and Paige.

He'd missed a lot of episodes that season. Missed seeing you come into your own as he tried and failed to come into his.

Thankfully Wayne--and Eddie wasn't a believer but whatever deity in charge needed to bless his Uncle Wayne--had the foresight to tape those episodes for him.

Those tapes would be cherished 'til the day he died, because they had truly gotten him through those tough days after everything.

He wished he had seen them when they aired, maybe...maybe he would have made some different decisions if he had.

Of course, Eddie had already loved you before then.

Since he had first laid eyes on you, actually.

He was sure that if you were real, you would be the one to understand him more than any of his friends. See the real him. In return, he would understand you, be there for you too.

He already had been. He'd seen you cry countless times, he'd laughed with you, celebrated your successes and mourned your failures. He'd been there for you when you crushed on that dickhead Mark, and then had your heart broken by the careless jerk.

And somewhere deep down inside of him, when he was sitting in that jail cell after he wasted his phone call on Paige and he felt the weight of the world bear down on his shoulders…he wished that you were real so he could have called you instead.

If you were real, Eddie's life would just be a little nicer.

He knew…he just knew.

Of course, in the mean time while he wished with every fiber of his being that you would walk into his life, he brought you to life in other ways. During mid-season and summer hiatuses, he would write you into his DND campaigns. His friends knew, they always called him out for it.

"Are you seriously making her an NPC man?" Dougie would scoff and throw a D20 across the table at him.

"No, what are you talking about?" he defended and threw the die right back at his friend. "This is Spiria the Bold."

"Uh huh," Jeff rolled his eyes. "Sure."

By his imagination and his pen, you became a powerful warrior, a sharp-tongued trickster, a seductive mage. You became anything he wanted you to be--most often with a companion and lover that mirrored him--and everything he knew, deep down, that you were.

And then the unthinkable happened.

September ‘84. He and Wayne were in the checkout line at K-mart. Cart stacked with new clothes and school supplies and groceries. When suddenly...there you were. Right in front of him.

Alright, not you. Per se. But your face, smiling alongside Samantha and Patrick and Scotty and Bill on the cover of the TV Guide.

On Set with the Stars of Port Geneva.

Wayne was the one to snatch the magazine from the rack and add it to their bounty, a knowing smile on his lips as he shook his head.

He knew Eddie needed a little pick-me-up.

Or a big one.

How could he have known this would be anything but one...

Eddie scoured over the pages once they got back to the trailer. He was hoping there would be a big enough picture of you that he could cut out and tape to the otherwise barren walls of his new room. And there was; you were leaning against the back of your signature pastel blue Volkswagen Beetle, arms across your chest, head tilted to the side with the signature scrunched smile you gave when you were embarrassed.

He adored you.

Before he took scissors to the page, he read the interview with your actress.

He wasn't too keen on her, even though she had your face.

The illusion that Rosemary Glass was really you had been shattered the first time he'd heard her voice on a radio interview; instead of your perfect and familiar middle-American speech...Rosemary's voice was accented.

Not to mention, she sounded pretentious.

Gross.

Still, he could look past that annoyance if he got some kind of insight to what the next season would bring for you.

Hopefully not a new love interest. His heart could only take so much.

...gives us a tour of the Patterson and Son's set, one that is forever enshrined as the setting of Patrick and Samantha's first kiss. "Oh I'm actually not fond of that scene," Rosemary confesses. "Yeah it's sweet, and the way I bring Sam in so Pat could confess his feelings but the...when I fell down? It was not scripted. And I was honestly shocked they kept that in. But fans seem to think she's clumsy now because of it. That I'm clumsy. When I just tripped over a wire. It's quite awful, really." We ask Rosemary to tell us what she'll miss most, now that the show is coming to an end...

Eddie went rigid as he read those words.

The show...coming to an end?

"What?" he exclaimed into his empty room. "No, no, no."

He carefully examined the article again, then turned back to the beginning of the feature, only to feel his heart stop in his chest.

The title of the feature was like crit hit.

The final killing blow to his already weak constitution.

One Last Summer in Port Geneva - On the Set of the Final Season

The final season was a sham.

Eddie savored every episode, though. Of course he would!

He would enjoy every last moment with you that he could get before he lost you forever. But...he hated it.

It was lazy writing--seriously what were they thinking--and a quick, cheap means to tie up all the loose ends they'd set up over the years. He could tell they tried to deliver as fulfilling a finale for the extensive cast of characters as they could. Still, he was sure he could have done better.

Samantha and Patrick got engaged after graduation. That was lame.

Bonnie finally quit the bakery to open her own cafe the next town over. Didn't anyone remember that she wanted to quit because she wanted to be a vet instead? That was the whole point of her! She didn't want to follow in her family's footsteps and she was doing just that.

And you? You took a backseat.

Instead of leaving town right after graduation--something that you had followed through reluctantly to make your parents happy even though you had just resolved to put your own happiness first for once--you stayed to help Pat plan his proposal.

Your big adventure, your big push for your dreams, were on hold again. You played second fiddle over and over until the final episode.

Eddie was grateful to have you for a little longer, but...once again annoyed that you were looked over--over and over, just like he was--when you had already proved that you were worthy of top billing.

Worthy of being the main character for once.

Still, at the beginning of the series finale, you packed your bags, cashed in your savings account, and drove out of town. The future was yours, just like it was always meant to be.

And Eddie cried.

The whole time tears streamed down his face as you said your own watery goodbyes. He might have even waved as you stuck your hand out the windshield to say goodbye to your friends as your car idled at the last stop sign. You blew a kiss to everything you knew and loved then started on your way into the unknown, car getting smaller in the distance right before the commercial break.

He held his breath for the final scene: a walk through the house where it all started and then Sam smiled her signature hopeful smile as she shut the door on the audience.

The screen faded to black for one final time and he exhaled.

"It's over," he muttered in slight disbelief, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.

Port Geneva was over, and you were gone for good.

It was a strange feeling.

Heartbreak, mourning, disappointment? He couldn't really know for sure. Empty was the best way to describe it; the lack of feeling. It was infuriating. Port Geneva was just a television show, he attempted to rationalize for the nth time since he started watching. You were just a character on a tv show; how could you mourn for someone and something that wasn't even real?

You hadn't actually died. He could still see glimpses of you if he wanted, whenever Rosemary Glass' next movie came out or something.

But that wasn't you.

You were gone, for all intents and purposes, and it was a blow that hit Eddie hard.

How could he go on without you?

Devastated, he got high that night after he stewed on his grief. He day-dreamed and monologued to an empty trailer about a universe where the two of you were together, where your travels took you to Hawkins, of all places, and you fell in love with him, just like you were supposed to.

If the walls could talk, they would have a fantastic tale to tell. One with heroes and misunderstandings and love at first sight. One with a horrible, unseen foe and many pitfalls and dangers that exceeded anyone's wildest imaginations. One with a magic door that led to the happily ever that was beyond well-deserved.

Grief did wonderful and terrible things, after all.

He woke up for school the next morning with cotton mouth and a vague outline of a story that did just that: brought you to Hawkins to fall in love with him and all of the other things that seemed like nonsense once he was in a more right-minded state.

The only problem was that it was all in his English notebook. And he didn't need anyone finding that.

"Fuck," he groaned and ripped the page out. He shoved it into his bedside drawer, where it would be doomed to a crumpled and forgotten future.

Or until he needed a condom.

Which, considering how everyone had doubled down on their disgust of him, wouldn't be any time soon.

But there you stayed.

Put away, like old obsessions and childish things, to be ignored and forgotten.

At least for a little while.

Eddie tried.

He did.

He kept you and Port Geneva out of sight and mind as much as humanly possible. It was the most effort he had really put to anything tangible in the past year.

The series ended at a weird time--during the middle of the season--and some investigative journalism show took over its time slot. Barbara Walters couldn't hold a candle to you, so it wasn't difficult for him to keep himself rooted in reality on the nights where he typically indulged in his silly fantasies.

The daydreams that he had were limited to lyrics for Corroded Coffin originals and ideas for Hellfire, and nights were spent alone in the darkness of the living room, with his reflection in the television set to keep him company as he tried his best to do homework that he'd already done before.

Before he realized, though, the school year was coming to a close and he was--big shocker--on the brink of failure. It wasn't until Higgins called him into his office, again, that you made your violent resurgence into his life.

There was a tentative truce between Higgins and Eddie for a while.

Civility was a strange thing for both of them. They actively avoided one another, save for a snide jab here and there, and Eddie tried to stay out of the Principal's Office as much as he could.

That is, until Higgins was forced to tell Eddie that he needed to repeat his repeat senior year.

"Don't act like I want this at all," he sneered at Eddie who tripped over a reaction. "I'd rather have you out of these halls for good. You drop out one year, then you re-enroll and you fail another. Try to make the most of it this time Munson; I don't want to have this talk again."

Eddie grumbled the whole drive back to the trailer, and he fell onto the sofa with his head in his hands once he got in.

"Which one of the fates wrote this stupid plot for me now, as if last year wasn't enough. You can't make this stuff up sometimes."

He laid there, wallowing in his misery for hours, days, years, until it got dark enough for headlights outside to be noticeable as they shined through the window. There was a glint of a reflection that caught his eye and had him turn his head.

"TV," he sighed and reached out as though he could touch the set and stacks of tapes neatly piled below. “The cause-of and solution-to all of life’s problems.”

He contemplated his life for a few more minutes.

He could make the most of the final few weeks of the school year. He could set himself up as a willing and reliable pupil for these last few assignments and tests, even though they wouldn't mean very much.

He could do all of these things so that when he walked into the halls of Hawkins High in the fall, on his absolute last first day of school--whatever deity or powers-that-be willing, because how "getting the hell outta dodge or he would die here" turned into "two extra years in that shit hole" he could only attribute to cosmic intervention--the faculty would already know he would try his best this time.

It would show them he was serious about graduating and that he would succeed despite all odds against him. Finally.

He could do this.

Or...

He could put in one of the tapes from the stack and scrounge for loose bills left over from his last few transactions and order a pizza. Pretend like he didn't exist for a little while.

And given the choice?

Eddie Munson chose the latter.

And he continued to choose the latter throughout the summer and even into the fall.

Nights that he didn't already have plans were spent in front of the television.

They were cherished nights with you.

Aside from his VHS recordings, he found a channel that showed reruns of Port Geneva after 10pm. Two hours of small town shenanigans that might very well be found just outside of his own door--if he only went and looked--with you just there, making your appearance every so often and catching his eye.

Homework was sometimes left halfway done on the coffee table until he needed to switch out a tape, or change the channel, and he spent more time filling his heart than enriching his mind, so to speak; he knew all of this school stuff already anyways.

Third times a charm and all right?

He talked to the screen more often than not, tried to warn you against one disappointment or another. Sometimes, if he was watching one of his tapes, he'd pause right on your face and just talk to you. Mundane things, usually, like Ronnie's last phone call home or some album that got released and a song he thought you might like.

Other nights, like tonight, he got vulnerable. Moments where life seemed a little extra trying, and he'd confess his feelings to your image.

Knelt on the floor in front of the coffee table, warm light bathed his face promising comfort as he spoke, and the din of static emitted from the television set, akin to an angel's voice...beyond understanding of humans.

He'd never been one for church, but this kind of confessional was sacred enough.

An eternal bond, just you and him.

He stopped his ramblings at that thought.

It was a strange moment of clarity.

Where had that come from?

"I..." Eddie looked down at himself, a foot away from the television set, remote clenched in his hand. Then he looked at you, soul-filled eyes just beyond the glass, not looking at him, only...through him, just past him. "What am I doing?"

What was he doing? He was...he wasn't a kid anymore who could hide in his dreams; well, honestly he was always going to do that, but this was different.

One minute he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he told you about his troubles, and the next it was all back, heavier than ever, as he realized how silly this all was.

And here he was, wasting his life knelt at your altar.

It wasn't holy. It was pathetic.

You'd never answer; you weren't real.

"Why?" he asked aloud, jaw clenched. He gripped the remote tightly. "What did I do to not have...someone? Huh? What have I ever done to be alone? That I have to rely on a fucking television character to feel understood. And now I'm losing my mind talking to myself, talking to you, at midnight every night. Why am I here wishing that you're real? Why couldn't you just...be...real?"

If there was a God, he would let Eddie Munson have you. If there was a Satan, he would let Eddie sell his soul for you.

And that's how he knew neither of them existed: you didn't exist either.

Eddie hit the eject button on the VCR and was about to shut everything so he could go to bed, when there was a crash outside.

Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd gotten used to since he came to live with Wayne.

This crash, however, started a ruckus.

Someone was yelling and that stupid dog across the way started barking.

Eddie was a lot of things...but a dramatic gossip was definitely high on the list.

What else was there to do in the Midwest?

He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl full of junk on the coffee table and stepped outside, fully intent on plopping down on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.

A car crashed into the telephone pole; didn't look like there was much damage but it had run through some trashcans and might have clipped the drivers side mirror off of Mrs. Mayfield's car. The same Mrs. Mayfield who was on her own porch being held back by Max as she yelled.

"Are you kidding me? It's fucking midnight!"

"Mom! Stop!"

"The car, Max!"

Maybe there'd be a fight.

He barely got his cigarette lit when he noticed--really noticed--the offending car: a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle.

He blinked several times and then rubbed his eyes, thinking it might have just been a trick of the light or something.

Or it was a coincidence.

Or a dream.

Maybe he'd had a heart attack and died in front of his television or something?

Plenty of people drove Volkswagen Beetles. He was pretty sure he'd even heard Nancy Wheeler asking her parents for one as a graduation present.

But with the same license plate number?

The same one from the show, the same one that was in the TV Guide all those months ago. The same one on the makeshift poster he had taped on the wall next to his bed, that he'd run his fingers over to "kiss" you goodbye countless times, just like he did to his guitar.

"It's just dark," he tried to convince himself, "and I'm tired, and...and..."

It was a coincidence. It was a dream.

He repeated the mantra over and over in his head like a lifeline.

It was another fan like him who just used fantasy to make their life a little better. That's all he was trying to do too, right? He could understand; hell, if this was a new neighbor, maybe he'd be able to chat with them about the show. Wouldn't that be something?

Eddie was so distracted making up endless excuses for himself that he didn't notice Mrs. Mayfield as she threw her hands up in the air with an exaggerated "I'm calling the police. He didn't hear Max holler at her mom to calm down, or see the tail lights of the Beetle turn off either.

It wasn't until the driver's side door swung open and a sneaker-covered foot crunched against the gravel that he forgot all the excuses he was conjuring.

And his heart stopped as the driver got out of the car and stood in the faint glow of the streetlight.

Because that driver was you.

Next Chapter: Alternate Universe

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tojisbbg · 9 months

Text

𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙚

❝come and take a walk on the wild side, let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain; you like your girls insane.❞

♡ geto suguru ♡

a/n: was listening to this song earlier and it reminded me of him. 😞 i know there's been a lot of angsty shit on my blog recently, but i promise new content soon! how we feeling about a tattoo artist!geto smutfic? 👀 lmk in the comments!

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

content: geto suguru x fem!reader, takes place after geto becomes a silly little cult leader, spoilers (slightly, i changed up some stuff), angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, a little long 'cause i got carried away lol, not edited.

---

"y/n?! weren't you on a business trip?" gojo gasped, your sudden appearance made everyone's heads turn, including his.

however, gojo's words flew over your head, frozen in your tracks as your eyes widened. it really was him, his hair was much longer than the last time you saw him which was... ten years ago.

"suguru.." you breathed out, feeling your backpack that was slung over one shoulder slip off and fall to the ground. you felt your body tremble, his eyes meeting yours as they never wavered.

without any hesitation, you began to walk forwards, pushing past the sea of higher-ups that were grouping around behind gojo. you were about to walk past the tall white haired man as well, only to be halted as he grabbed your wrist.

"don't. he's not the same suguru that we once knew, y/n. don't let your emotions conflict with you, he's a threat to jujutsu high." gojo sternly said, his other hand lifting the bandages of one eye as he looked down at you with a begging look.

you looked up at him with a glare, a frown painted on your lips.

"let go of me, satoru." you calmly replied, making him thin his lips before a heavy sigh left his mouth.

"y/n-"

"i said to let go." you spoke through gritted teeth, twisting your wrist in his hold before ripping out of his grasp. the crowd gasped at your actions, you could hear principal yaga and gojo yell your name, but all of that just sounded like white noise.

you were blind and deaf to anything that wasn't related to the man in front of you. geto looked at you with an amused grin, watching your wobbly legs walk up to him without a single care for your safety, as you were now just a few inches away from him.

you noticed how his eyebags got darker, his eyes that once shimmered with joy were now replaced with nothing but emptiness and tire. it made your throat swell up, feeling it burn as tears stung your eyes.

"you grew out your hair, sugu." you said, though your voice was as soft as a whisper, allowing only geto to hear. you brought up a shaky hand and caressed the long and silky smooth ebony locks. he allowed you to touch it, humming in response.

"i didn't have the time to cut it." geto bluntly responded, onyx eyes looking down at you as you never once broke eye contact with him.

"busy?" you casually asked, earning a nod from him.

"killing people, right?" you added a follow-up question, which you knew the answer to, but all these years you were still in denial about it.

you heard it all over the news, read it on the paper and yaga himself told you. yet, still in your heart you believed that he was innocent and that it was nothing but a mistake or someone trying to frame him.

you knew geto like the back of your hand, he was gentle, calm and soothing. he reminded you of a soft, gentle spring rain shower in the middle of the night.

however, all of that hope would soon come crumbling down as you saw him smirk.

"how'd you know?" his tone dripped with nothing but sarcasm and malice, setting off goosebumps all over your body.

"you're lying to me! i know you'd never do this, suguru. i've known you for years. who's behind all of this? there's still time to fix everything!" your voice trembled, clammy palms coming up to cup his face as your thumb dragged along the soft skin of his cheeks.

"fix? there's nothing left to fix, y/n. everything that you heard was true, i killed that entire village. matter of a fact, it didn't stop there. i killed more and more and even more people all these years!" he laughed like a maniac, making your heart rate increase, feeling his larger hands cup yours.

"stop... please, stop." you sniffled, tears streaming down your face, which made him frown.

"why are you crying? isn't this what you wanted to hear?" he asked with faux sympathy, his thumb brushing away your tears as you looked at him with glossy eyes.

"i missed you so much. every night, i prayed that one day you'll come back and say that everything was a lie. and here you are now, telling me all of this bullshit! why, suguru?! why did you leave??" you yelled at him, not caring about your safety at that moment, knowing that he wouldn't dare to lay a finger on you.

"it's simple, y/n. i'm creating a world where us jujutsu sorcerers can live peacefully without these filthy monkeys." geto tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his words making your stomach churn with sickness.

yet, this was your last attempt in trying to convince him. who knew when you'd ever see him again? if he disappeared for ten years without a trace, then perhaps your next encounter with him might be too late.

without thinking, you closed the distance between you both, burying your face in his kimono as he let you embrace him without any protest.

he still smelled of the same fragrance that you bought for him in your teen years. you cried on his chest, gripping onto the fabric as your arms tightened around him.

"please, don't leave me again. come back to us, suguru. we'll find a way to fix this, i promise. i'll help you!" you tried to persuade him, feeling his chest take in a huge supply of air before breathing it out. suddenly, you felt him pull you away from him.

your breath hitched when you saw his face morph into a scowl, his fingers grabbing a hold of your jaw to look at him dead in the eyes.

"come back? come back to what, huh? my execution or that terrible life that i abandoned ten years ago? it's time that you realize that things aren't the same for us anymore, y/n. i am no longer on your side, we are enemies now. your sweet sappy talk won't work on me, i'll proceed with my plans no matter what. and if you get in my way—" he harshly spoke, each of his words stabbing you in the heart multiple times, making it bleed and cry.

"i'll kill you." geto's eyes darkened, his tone dropping an octave lower as you gulped. he let go of you, walking back to the huge bird that you assumed was his form of transportation.

"i'll see you all on the night parade of a hundred demons! bye-bye~" he sang out, waving at everyone as the bird took off. you watched him grow smaller and smaller into the distance until he was no longer visible to your eyes.

your knees felt like jelly, no longer being able to support your weight before collapsing. you sat on the cold cemented ground, tears dropping onto your thighs as you sobbed. you could hear distant murmuring which belonged to the higher-ups, probably snickering about your unacceptable behavior today towards a traitor, but you couldn't have cared less.

he was your suguru, your best friend.

he's the only person who's ever made your heart flutter and make you feel like the world's cruelty didn't seem so bad when you were with him. in a never ending void, geto was your comfort.

you heard footsteps nearing close to you before feeling a hand on your shoulder. you turned to your side, being met with the familiar cerulean eyes.

"come here." gojo softly said, pulling you into his embrace as you cried on his shoulder, feeling his arms wrap around you.

"it's so unfair! so fucking unfair, satoru!" you choked out, feeling him stroke your back in a comforting manner.

"i know... i know, y/n."

---

it's been about two weeks since the incident, you were on mandatory house arrest while the higher-ups further investigated your loyalty towards jujutsu tech. not that you minded, in the end, you knew you'd slip out of these accusations because gojo satoru existed.

and yaga knew you as if you were his own child.

nonetheless, you treated your little 'punishment' as a well-deserved break. long before the incident, you've been quite literally abused with never ending missions, the majority of them shoving you overseas since gojo couldn't go on them frequently due to his students.

you'd occasionally see him, but it was like on a rare moon. you worked full-time and overtime as a sorcerer.

what a hassle.

night had fallen, you glanced at your window which was slightly opened to let in the cool spring breeze. you could hear the faint sound of the sky rumbling, storm clouds slowly grouping together.

"looks like it'll storm tonight." you mumbled to yourself, walking towards your window as you closed it along with the curtains. a few seconds later, you heard a knock at your door.

who'd pay you a visit at this hour? it's nearly a little past midnight.

regardless, you pushed your thoughts aside and went ahead to open the door.

"oh, shoko?" you called out, your tone a little surprised in seeing her so late, assuming that she'd be long knocked down by sleep.

"mhm, mind if i come in?" the dark brunette asked, taking one last drag of her cigarette before throwing it on the floor, crushing beneath her foot.

"no, of course not!" you gave her a smile, stepping aside to let her enter your house.

"so, what was that whole romeo and juliet incident involving you and suguru about?" shoko chuckled at her own joke, making you sigh.

"so you've heard." you replied, making her hum.

"i did. you know, i'm a little hurt that i didn't hear it from your mouth instead. those shitty higher-ups really have a way with their words, and it's not poetic." she snickered, making you scoff.

"they always exaggerate shit." you grumbled, balling your hands into fists.

"mhm, so, i need to hear it from you now." shoko took off her white coat before tossing it to the side, plopping on your couch as she patted the empty seat next to her. you took in the offer, sitting down as you looked down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers.

"i.. he-" you could feel your words starting to get stuck in your throat, the memory of that day washing so vividly clear in your mind, making you feel sick. shoko attentively watched you, a long pause embracing your lips.

"you know i trust you, right y/n?" she suddenly blurted out, making you look up at her with wide eyes.

"huh?" was the only thing that left your lips, a little astonished to hear it from the lips of the woman who was left to cope with everything by herself after geto's departure.

it was cruel and uncalled-for, after all, the four of you were best friends. but, life happened and it was a harsh split.

"if i were in your place, i'd feel the same and i know satoru felt the same too. he's just too ignorant to come to terms with his emotions. so, tell me." shoko offered you a small smile, comfortingly rubbing your back as you told her everything.

"ah, i see. i've gotta say, you got some balls, y/n." she giggled, making your face turn red.

"that's not the case, my body just led without my control." you defended.

"hm, you must've gotten a harsh earful from principal yaga." she leaned back in the sofa, hazel eyes meeting yours.

"yeah." you thin your lips.

"are you serious right now, y/n?! you're one of my most trusted students, a senior and mentor at jujutsu tech! how could you act so rash and stupidly like this?! it makes no sense, i'd rather have it be satoru than you. do you know how much of a dangerous position you're in now? they're investigating you because of rising accusations that you might be suguru's accomplice. they're questioning your loyalty and if you're possibly another traitor like him!"

yaga's words rang loud and clear in your head, making you scowl as you slumped back.

"you're still in love with suguru, aren't you?" shoko suddenly blurted out, making you choke on air as your eyes widened.

"what?!" you gasped, a little mortified at how she knew.

"i'm not stupid, y/n. you were so painfully obvious back when we were teens and it seems like nothing has changed now either." she smirked at you, watching how your body was fidgeting as you tried to think of a quick lie.

but, you soon gave up, not having the energy or will left to care about covering up your stupid crush. you nodded your head, not meeting her eyes as you were afraid of being teased.

you've kept this little secret of yours hidden for over fourteen years, but, now someone knew.

"shoko?" you absent-mindedly called out, being lost in your thoughts.

"hm?" she hummed in response.

"you're a doctor, right?" you stupidly asked, making her laugh.

"of some sort, yes." shoko played on with your words, even though you already knew the answer to it.

"then tell me how to stop feeling like this. i can't live knowing that he's suffering and being swallowed in a pit of self-loathe, blame and pity. i can't stop loving him, shoko." you looked at her with begging eyes, feeling tears pricking them.

"i'm a doctor who heals people's injuries, not a relationship therapist." she nonchalantly spat, her words smacking you back to reality.

"right." you said, tone laced with disappointment but you expected it. after all, there simply was no answer to your question, nor was there a solution to your problem.

"but, i can try." she gave you a cheeky smile, making you cock an eyebrow.

"how?" you asked, a little confused at what she was suggesting. shoko grabbed her coat, digging something out of her pocket as you watched her pull out a small card.

"what's that?" you asked with curious eyes, taking the card before examining it.

"suguru's number, well, it's his weird cult's main line. but, maybe it might come in handy. i don't know, do as you will with that information. i should get going before it rains." shoko smirked, looking at you with a playful glint before getting up and putting on her coat.

you walked her to the door as you watched her slip on her shoes, twisting the lock afterwards to unlock the door.

"you won't tell the higher-up or satoru about this, right?" you asked with a little caution, feeling a little uneasy.

"of course not, my time is pretty precious, you know? i'd never waste it on talking with those fools. oh and by the way, i never gave you this information. goodnight, y/n." she gave you a bright smile before waving at you as she walked out.

---

"hello, master geto suguru's assistant speaking, how may i help you?"

"uh, may i schedule an appointment with master geto? i've been dealing with sleep issues and would like to consult him."

"and what are these sleep issues like?"

"well.. um, of monstrous creatures, i think? and it feels like there's another entity residing with me."

"i see, well, you could come first thing in the morning tomorrow."

"ah, you see, these dreams tend to worsen at night. so, i was hoping if i could perhaps consult with him tonight?"

"at this hour? i doubt he would."

"could you ask, please? i'm willing to pay a pretty penny to him."

"please hold."

the line goes silent.

"he surprisingly agreed. master geto will be meeting you within the next hour at the location that will be texted to you."

"thank you."

---

your heart was beating rapidly in your chest as you skillfully sneaked out of your house, avoiding all the cctv cameras. it was pitch-black outside, the only source of light was from the dimly lit street lamps as the moon was covered by the thick storm clouds. you decided to take a cab to the designated location, which was a park close to shibuya, not wanting to loop ichiji and waste time to create lies for your cover-up.

it seemed like you arrived first, leaning against a tree as you waited for him to come. your hands were getting cold and sweaty, your nerves were eating you away as well.

what if things escalated and got out of hand? you had no backup plan for a potential attack. your cursed energy is drained due to your fatigue, and geto is a strong sorcerer himself, it'd be difficult fighting against him.

all these last minute questions buzzed in your mind, making you slowly regret your rash decision to contact him without any proper precautions.

was this a bad call?

"so, i was right. it is you." you heard a familiar voice speak within the distance, footsteps nearing you as you looked up to see a figure inching closer to you. the faint light emitting from the street lamp allowed you to see the figure that was dressed up in a purple hoodie and green cargos.

geto stood in front of you, taking off his hood as you saw his disheveled hair from being shielded inside the hood. it seemed as if he grew fond of the new hairstyle of keeping a half-up do.

he knew it was you?

"but, how?" you asked, a little shocked at how you failed at being so discreet. you didn't even speak to him nor give a name to his assistant.

"it was a hunch." geto smirked with his eyes closed, shrugging his shoulder. you looked down at your shoes, your fingers playing with the hem of your t-shirt as you didn't know what to talk about.

"so, why'd you wanna see me? surely, it's not to exorcise curses." he cut straight to the chase, raising a brow as he looked down at you.

"i don't know." you blurted out, not meeting his eyes. it was true, you didn't know why you called his stupid cult to set up an appointment with him at like one in the morning.

you didn't know why your mind couldn't wait and think this whole plan twice. you had nothing in particular to tell him, it was clear that geto didn't agree with your plans of him returning to jujutsu tech.

"do you think my time is something to waste?" he scoffed, making you wince at the brazenness of his tone. you let out a sigh, finally looking up at him with a furious glint in your eyes.

"could you stop acting like that?" you balled your fists in anger, making him narrow his eyes at you.

"like what?" he bluntly spat out.

"like we're strangers! how can you just forget everything that we've been through, huh? you were my best friend, for fuck's sake! we went to school together, hung out almost every day, went on missions together, celebrated each other's birthdays. all kind of that crap! how can you just stand here and look at me like i'm nothing more than a mere bug that you could step over and move on with your life?" your voice trembled as you spoke out your feelings, but, your voice never once wavered. you made sure that each of your words were loud and stern enough to drill into his skull.

"you wanna know why, y/n? i'll tell you why. it's 'cause you don't mean anything to me. i've cut all my ties between everyone back in that school. you are nothing more than a stranger to me, actually, you're being quite a nuisance to me now." geto said in a monotone, words piercing through your heart as it made tears sting in your eyes.

"lies... you're lying! cut the bullshit, suguru. you promised me that when we're both together, we're the strongest. even stronger than satoru!" you bellowed, feeling the rush of adrenaline as your body was being overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions.

pain, anger, sadness and frustration.

nothing was making sense, he wasn't making sense!

"yeah? well, welcome to reality, y/n. i don't need you anymore to be the strongest. in fact, i don't need anyone!" he yelled back at you, his face now displaying an irritated expression, but you continued to push his limits. you cupped his face in your hands, thinning your lips as you saw his face relaxing to your touch, going back to his resting face.

"i know, suguru. you never needed me or satoru to be the strongest. suguru... mistakes happen, it wasn't your fault." you spoke to him in a soft voice, caressing his cheeks. his eyes widened at your words, looking at you with a puzzled look. you felt his hands creep up before wrapping over yours.

"don't you dare speak to me as if you know everything. god, you disgust me." he roughly shoved your hands off of him, making you gasp, as it wasn't your intention to offend him. geto looked at you once more before turning his heels, walking away.

"sugu-"

"i'll let it slide this time, but i can't promise to be this generous if there's a next time. let's never meet again, y/n. unless... it's for killing one another." geto spoke with a low voice, his face turning to the side as he looked at you through his peripheral vision.

your mouth was wide open, not believing how crudely he could say those words and prance off. you gritted your teeth, running towards him before harshly grabbing his arm, pulling him towards you with all the strength in your body.

"what the f-"

"i'm sick and tired of your bullshit. you act like the world revolves around you, like you're the only one who's been through shit. yet, when it comes to facing things, you're nothing but a fucking coward!" you glared at him, your grip on him tightening to make sure he can't break free. geto scoffed, using his free hand to grab your jaw, pulling your face closer to him before looking down. you squirmed in his tight grasp, but he didn't budge.

"oh yeah? my words must've hurt your little feelings, didn't they, y/n?" he pouted, faux sympathy laced within his tone.

"shut up! you know i'm right. the incident with riko and toji had a toll on all of us, but it struck you the hardest." you tried your best to speak coherently through your squished cheeks.

"it did. what about it? you never did anything and neither did satoru. i took my own matter into my own hands. that's not cowardice, it was a leap to another direction, my redirection. silly little girls who chew on their emotions like you won't understand my motives." he smirked, making you wince as he squeezed your jaw, your hands coming up in defense to peel them off.

"redirection? ha! don't make me laugh. you wanna hate toji for killing an innocent girl who you were supposed to watch over? it'd make you a hypocrite, 'cause what makes you any different from him now?" you gave him a grin, bullets of sweat running down your forehead.

"guess you do have a brain somewhere in that stupid head of yours." he grumbled, releasing you from his hold before turning around to once again leave.

even if it meant that you'd have to chase him to the end of the earth, you're more than willing to do so.

you lightly jogged behind him before catching up, now standing in front of him as you blocked his space. you could sense him slowly getting annoyed, hand dug inside his pocket.

"don't you know that it's rude to leave mid-conversation, master geto?" you threw in a slight tease, trying to ease up the situation, but that might've irritated him even more.

"seriously, what is your problem? move." geto sternly ordered, his patience running low. but you didn't bother lifting a single muscle, staring back at him.

"no."

"i'm gonna kill you."

"okay."

"i'm being serious, y/n. go home."

"no."

geto grumbled at your stubborn behavior, scratching his head as he didn't want to use jujutsu against you when he knew that you were bluffing around.

"fine! then what do you want from me?!" he was fed up, eyes boring holes into your body.

"i need answers. i want... no, i need you to tell me everything that you went through after that incident." you replied, eyes looking into his with determination and perseverance. geto's eyes locked with yours, your knees turning into jelly.

you tried to look for some form of truth in his eyes, but you only see nothing but a vast abyss. those same eyes that once twinkled on those hot summer days where you spent being a bunch of reckless teens doing stupid shit was gone.

suddenly, it began to rain. a few drops turned into pouring rain, making your clothes wet along with his. you saw him take in a deep breath before averting his gaze.

"goodnight, y/n." geto pulled up his hood in order to avoid his hair from getting wet as he avoided your request, deciding to walk in the opposite direction.

you stood frozen in your steps, not bothering to run after him. you watched him slowly get smaller and smaller in the distance, just like you did two weeks ago.

you felt your heart shattering to pieces, watching your best friend, and the person who owns your heart walk further towards the dark path. the sickening and thick feeling of guilt has always embraced you ever since geto left jujutsu tech for good, the feeling of being responsible for his outcome always washed over you.

you were his best friend after all, yet you failed him. you watched him spiral down to his downfall, still, you turned a blind eye. it was foolish, you were young and so stupidly dumb.

of course, you didn't know any better at the tender age of sixteen. hell, you didn't even understand your own emotions, let alone anyone else's. nonetheless, after that whole incident, there was a split between the connection you, geto and gojo shared.

gojo coped by training until he passed out cold on the ground, geto resorted to self-isolationism, and you?

you'd disappear to god knows where. it wasn't a lie that you were a very rash person, your decisions being impulsive. after you touched school grounds, you booked a ticket to italy and stayed there for a couple of weeks.

no one questioned it, none of your friends.

of course, yaga soon tracked you down and threatened you to either come back or else the outcomes wouldn't be in your favor if he had to go there to get you.

so, when you did come back, gojo seemed as if nothing ever happened. meanwhile, geto's condition looked extremely poor. however, you selfishly ignored the red alarms in your head and thought maybe he was still going through it and needed space.

not to mention that you haven't properly healed from that incident and seeing how satoru was doing a little too well, neither has he.

at that time, you didn't want to bring up those events nor even trigger those horrific memories for you or the others. the mere thought of it made you have an instant panic attack. so, you chose to ignore it and hoped that maybe geto could recover on his own.

but, that's where your mistake was.

you should've asked. you should've been by his side and tell him that it wasn't his fault. you should've been there for him.

all these should've and could've's, yet nothing could ever fix what was already broken.

which is why your decision was final. you already lost him once and you weren't gonna lose him for a second time.

you woke up from your trance, picking up your legs as you ran as fast as you could. surely he couldn't have walked that far in the span of five minutes. you ran like a lunatic in the pouring rain, your clothes sticking to your body. although your vision was blurry with a mix of your tears and the rain, you were able to make out his figure, which was leisurely walking at a slow pace.

without thinking twice, you crashed into his back as you wrapped your arms around his waist. you felt geto jolt from the unexpected impact, his body freezing on spot.

"what the fuck?" geto breathed out, his heart nearly exploding from the shock. he looked down and recognized your hands, exhaling in relief that it was just you.

"do you remember when you'd summon your stingray shikigami every time i'd whine to you about my feet hurting from a long mission?" you sniffled, your words slightly muffled into the cloth of his hoodie, but geto had keen ears.

"yeah, you were pretty aggressive about it too." he snorted, making you break out into a small laugh.

"i sometimes lied about my feet hurting. your stingray shikigami can't carry more than two people at a time. i wanted to spend time with you alone." you snuggled into his back, squeezing him gently in your arms to get impossibly closer to him.

you could vividly remember how you and geto would spend hours surfing the sky on the curse, overseeing different people and how they lived their normal lives.

"did you chase me all the way here to confess that?" geto laughed, making you let out a deep sigh as you loosened your grasp on him. this allowed geto to turn around, now facing you.

he took note of how beautifully destroyed you looked under the dimly lit streets. your hair sticking to your neck and forehead, cheeks rosey red, eyes puffed up from crying and lips swollen from biting them so much.

you looked up at him, his face now wet from the rain as his hood was long put down, his hair messy and wet as well. your heart bled little by little as you looked at his drained out face. in your mind, you thanked god that it was raining or else he could've seen how your tears were like a nonstop waterfall.

"i'm sorry." you choked out, looking at him with glossy eyes. geto raised an eyebrow, slightly confused at your sudden apology.

"what?" he asked.

"i'm sorry for being a horrible friend. i knew that you weren't holding yourself up well. when i came back, i saw how thin you got, your dark eyebags, those fake smiles... i noticed it all. yet, i didn't say anything because i was selfishly thinking about my own sanity. i'm sorry for not being there when you needed someone the most, suguru." your knees gave out, collapsing on the ground as you sat on your knees while crying into your palms.

geto's eyes widened at the revelation, unable to move a single limb as his brain tried to process your words. he never craved for attention nor did he ever raise a hand for help, but, he always hoped that someone saw through those fake smiles while he died a little inside every day.

and you did.

geto never resented you or gojo in the slightest when he chose his own path, it wasn't something he did out of hatred for you two or anything against anyone in jujutsu tech. it was his brain that twisted everyone's words, from toji's last words that were uttered to him along with yuki's ramble about sorcerers.

it was during the wrong place at the wrong time.

whether you were there with him or not, there was no saving geto suguru.

he crouched down to level with you, watching how your body shook as you cried uncontrollably in your hands.

"i don't hate you, y/n. and... whatever that i went through and the outcome of it isn't your fault either, so stop blaming yourself." geto spoke in a gentle voice, peeling your hands off of your face to look at you. with tear-filled heavy eyes, you opened them and looked at him through your fuzzy vision.

his voice was now like the suguru you used to know, so soft and honey-like. there wasn't any malice or anger rooted into his words or tone.

"i could've stopped you from leaving." you reasoned, choking on your breaths as you tried to calm down, wanting to hold a collected conversation now that he's willing to open up.

"i don't know about that." he thinned his lips, looking down at the cemented ground.

"everything fell apart after you left. satoru tries to hide his pain, but i could see right through him. he doesn't wanna talk about it. then shoko... she didn't even know the full story until much later and i don't think she's coping too well even now. everyone's a mess because you left, suguru. you were the glue that held us together." you confessed, making him pause for a second.

"and i wore off, yet, no one put me back together. this path that i chose—it was the only way i found relief. it held me together at my lowest, y/n." geto's voice shook, your throat going dry as you could see him slowly break in front of you.

"suguru." you called out his name, not even knowing how to respond to such heavy words. he stood back up while collecting his composure back, extending a hand to help you up. you accepted, the skinship between his flesh with yours sent electric shocks all over your body.

"i'm glad that even after all these years, you still have the heart to love and care about someone like me, y/n. however, if you met up with me tonight with the intention of trying to convince me to come back, then i'm sorry because it won't be happening." he gave you a sad smile before fixing your soaking wet hair that was sticking to your face. you shuddered at his touch, looking at him in disappointment.

"i know." you bit your lips, preventing a cry from escaping your throat. geto nodded at your acknowledgment.

"you should head home before you catch a cold, y/n." he spoke with genuine concern, making your stomach flutter. you chewed on your bottom lip, not wanting for it to end this way.

"run away with me, suguru." you suddenly blurted out, your own mind shocked at the suggestion that left your lips. geto's eyes were now the size of two full moons, his mouth wide open.

"what?" he gasped, completely flabbergasted at your ridiculous suggestion.

"i mean it. let's run away, together." you gave him a crazy look, holding his hands as you gave him an insane smile with pleading eyes.

"are you out of your mind, y/n? did you drink before coming here?" geto asked in shock, but there was no foul scent of liquor radiating off of your body or mouth.

you were completely sober and in the right state of mind.

"i can't watch you destroy yourself like this anymore, suguru. this path that you call your redirection is slowly killing you. i can see it in your eyes. you kill people not because it's fun or you want to, but because it's a coping mechanism from what you witnessed. if you go back to jujutsu tech, you'll be executed without hesitation. so, why bother living a life like this? let's start fresh somewhere else in this huge world." you explained your idea, as each word leaving your lips made you sound even more insane.

were you even thinking this through? you're asking him, a mass murderer, to runaway with you, one of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers to be born in this era that's supposed to help humanity.

"you're willing to throw away your life for someone like me? no, i can't accept this." he shook his head, declining your offer.

"do you think this is a life that i want to live? a life where i'm chained to the responsibility of saving people, to fight life and death face to face every day, to pretend that everything's fine? i've reached my limit, suguru, and so have you." you argued, making him bitterly chuckle.

"do you have any idea how many people i've killed with these hands? if blood was thick enough to stain, my hands would be darker than red. do you still want to forgive a sinner like me?" he shamefully admitted, an attempt to make you disgusted of him or even burn in hatred.

he wanted you to loathe him for his crimes, to have an immense amount of resentment towards him. but, instead, you treated him like a delicate petal.

you brought his hands up to your face before kissing each of his palms. geto's eyes widened at your sudden action, not expecting you to react this way.

"i'll bear your sins with you. you're not alone anymore, suguru. i'll follow you into the deep pits of hell if i have to." you cupped your face with his hands, staring deep into his eyes with a determined glint, making him speechless.

that was the last straw, those very few words that you uttered to him in a matter of seconds was all that it took for geto's walls to come crumbling down. you watched his eyes well with tears before he bit his top lip to stop a painful cry from leaving his throat.

"it's okay, sugu. let it out." you encouraged, rubbing comforting circles on the back of his hand with your thumb.

"i-i.... i swear, y/n, i didn't take my eyes off of her even for a second. i even offered to take her away from the mission so that she could live a normal life. i didn't know when that shitbag entered, i didn't even sense him the slightest. one minute she was smiling and then... i see her on the ground bleeding." geto cried, trying his best to speak in between his sobs as you attentively listened to him. your heart shattered to millions of pieces as you watch him break down in front of you.

"i know, suguru. it's not your fault, come here." you closed the distance between you two, hugging him tightly as geto buried his face in the crook of your neck, the pouring rain continuing to rain on you guys with no mercy.

"satoru definitely blames me. i screwed up, y/n!" he added, making you shake your head as you disagreed.

"he doesn't, suguru. he knew the extremity of the situation and both him and i were nearly on the verge of death. it's not your fault, suguru. whether it was me or satoru in your place instead, riko would've died regardless." you comforted, stroking his hair as you tried to calm him down. he pulled back, looking at you as his eyes were now red and puffy from crying.

"i felt like i killed her and because i found no escape in that pit of guilt, i tried to derive relief by killing even more people. i.. i didn't even wanna kill them, but i did it for that feeling of finally being able to breathe. i can't do this anymore, y/n, i can't! absorb, exorcise, ingest, absorb, exorcise, ingest! i can't fucking do it anymore. i can't even enjoy a meal because of how pungent the taste is left on my tongue. the taste of curses, like a rag wiped with shit and vomit. i'm tired, y/n." he rambled, finally opening up about his true emotions. seeing him like this only broke you more, seeing him this panicked, scared and shame-filled.

he was just a kid.

"i know... i know, suguru. it must've been so hard on you and you've suffered enough. it's time to tap out and find happiness, sugu." you stroked his wet cheek, feeling him tremble under your touch.

"why would you do it for someone like me?" geto whispered, his voice cracking as a lump formed in his throat.

"because i love you, suguru. as my best friend and as a person. i loved you ever since we were kids. i can't live without you and i learned that the hard way through fourteen lonely and miserable years. me living a happy life is a life with you, sugu." you confessed your feelings, watching his eyes soften.

"i love you too, y/n." he smiled through his tears, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. your heart was filled with content, an overwhelming wave of emotions struck you.

you pulled his hood over his head before pulling his head down. leaning in towards his face, your lips just centimeters away from his. geto closed the distance between you two as he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you in for a kiss. your hands clutched harder onto the fabric of his hood, your lips perfectly molded against his soft ones.

you could taste a mix of the rain along with both of your tears, kissing him hard in the pouring rain. geto walked forwards with you still in his hold, your back now hitting against a tree as he pressed his body into yours. the warmth radiated off of him to you, making you whimper.

geto couldn’t wrap his head around this new feeling which set his soul on fire. his mouth was producing more saliva than usual, like how you’d salivate when you eat good food. the awful taste of curses no longer lingered on his tongue, instead, now replaced by the taste of your sweet cherry flavored lips.

it nearly made him cry.

he tilted his head, angling his lips to kiss you deeper and harder. you could feel his body shudder, lips shaky as he kissed you like this was his last time with you.

you let go of his hood, the wind blowing it down which made you tangle your fingers into his wet ebony locks. geto's tongue swiped against your bottom lips and you gasped, allowing him to enter his tongue.

the kiss was full of need and love, the both of you touching one another and pressing onto each other impossibly closer. you both finally pulled away, gasping for air as you looked up at him, a warm smile painted on his lips.

you went on your tippy-toes, pressing gentle kisses all over his face. you kissed his forehead, cheeks, the tip of his nose, his chin and finally; you pressed a tender and loving kiss on his lips. geto chuckled at your actions, enjoying the affection he was receiving.

"so, what do you say?" you asked once again, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. geto looked down at you, seeing how your eyes glimmered with anticipation and it warmed his heart to see how much you wanted this.

not for you, but for him.

geto gave you a cheeky grin, gently grabbing your chin before leaning down to press a kiss on your lips.

"let's run away, y/n."

---

"happy anniversary, y/n! open it, baby." geto eagerly encouraged, his eyes sparkling as he placed the small, neatly wrapped gift on your lap. you chuckled at your boyfriend's adorable behavior.

it's been about five years since you both left behind your tragic lives, finding escape in the peaceful city of venice in italy. you both left that night, in your sopping wet clothes, not even bothering to go back for your stuff because it'd be too risky.

these past five years were nothing but a dream that finally came into reality. no more curses, no more exorcisms, no more death or tragedy. you and geto were just two normal people living your lives.

sometimes you sit alone in your balcony and think about how your life did a whole three-sixty. all those lonely nights that consumed you with your own guilt, self-loathe and tire... was no longer an issue.

instead, you slept peacefully besides your lover, wrapped up in the soft silk duvet that smelled like a mixture of you and him, indulging in his warmth.

of course, it was never that easy in the beginning. you both still suffered from very traumatic dreams, especially geto. you'd wake up in the middle of the night finding him crying quietly or having a panic attack.

but, you were always there for him, holding him like a precious gem as you cradled him in your embrace. you stroked his hair, kissed his tears away and held him tight.

you healed geto suguru.

you spent five happy and peaceful years with the love of your life, as if you both started from a clean slate. they say that hair holds memories, so, geto cut his hair back into his shoulder-length wolfcut. you dyed your hair along with cutting it short.

both you and geto owned a small restaurant that was pretty famous with various japanese cuisines.

it was definitely a new beginning.

"oh my god! this is adorable, sugu!!" you squealed, nearly falling off of the gondola as you held up the bunny plushie before hugging it. geto looked at you with hearts in his eyes, watching his cute girlfriend gush over the toy.

"there's a surprise for you inside its carrot." he gave you a cheeky smile, making you hum in confusion as you examined the carrot. you noticed it had a little zipper, tugging it before shoving a finger inside.

you felt something thin and cold, like a ri-

your eyes widened at the realization, tears pooling in your eyes as you looked into geto's eyes. the familiar softness and adoration that he's always held for you shone through his beautiful onyx eyes.

"pull it out, my love." his voice was like a whisper, your tears streaming down your cheeks as you pulled out the gorgeous diamond ring.

"if someone were to ask me what is a moment in my life that i never regretted, i'd answer that it would be every moment that i spent with you. i don't think i'll ever be able to repay you for all that you've done for me, as my best friend and as my lover. you saved me, honey. because of you... i had a second chance to life. thank you for everything, y/n. i love you so much, so, so, so, much. there isn't enough languages nor words on this earth that exists for me to express my love for you. which is why i want to keep loving you until the end of time. will you marry me, y/n?" geto caressed your face, watching you give him a bright smile as you cried tears of joy.

"yes! make me your wife, geto suguru!" you yelled in happiness, surely to have piss off the italian neighbors who were trying to sleep at this hour.

but, you didn't care. you just got engaged with the love of your life.

geto chuckled at your reaction, slipping on the ring before pulling you in for a kiss. all of a sudden, you felt wet droplets on your head, making you both pull away and look at each other in shock.

"it's raining." you said the obvious, making geto smirk before once again pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"it's a sign that we're meant to be together forever, y/n." he smiled against your lips, making you giggle at his superstitious reasoning as you pecked his lips.

after your little date, both you and geto reached home, changing out of your wet clothes into pajamas. you walked outside the bathroom, watching your fiancé place down two hot cups of tea on the table before sitting down on the sofa.

you took in a moment to soak in the image of how gorgeous geto was. sometimes, you questioned if you even deserved to be with such a beautiful man inside out.

"so, you gonna stand there and watch me or come here to get a better view?" geto teased, patting his lap as your cheeks tinted red. you giggled, walking over to him before sitting on his lap, placing your head on his shoulder as you watched the diamond sparkle under the light.

"this is like your hundredth time looking at it, honey." you can feel the deep vibration of his laughter against your chest, making you hum.

"it still feels like a dream, a long dream that i never wanna wake up from." you admit, gawking at the ring before nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, pressing soft kisses.

"this is our happy ending, y/n. it's just you and me, together forever." he whispered, making you smile as you raised your head to meet his eyes.

"that's all i need." you answered, kissing him on the lips.

geto stared at you as if you hung the moon and stars, eyes twinkling with love and adoration. he couldn't get enough of your voice, your touch and your presence in general. you were the light in his life, the person who kept him sane.

you rested your head on his chest, your arms wrapped around his waist while he played with your hair. you listened to his heartbeat, feeling yours syncing with his as the gentle thumping sound lulled you to sleep.

"do you miss them?" geto suddenly asked, making you hum.

"yeah. do you?" you asked him the same question. you felt his chest heave before relaxing, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

"yeah." he softly answered.

"do you think satoru's married by now?" you thought out loud, making geto snort.

"i highly doubt it. he's too much of a manwhore." geto snickered, referring to how gojo was a player by heart.

"so were you! getting all the ladies back in high school. but, look at you now, stuck with me forever." you looked at him with a smirk, making him laugh before pecking the tip of your nose.

"that's 'cause you're the only lady my heart was meant for." he cheesily answered, making you squirm in his embrace.

"what about shoko?" you asked, since you were on the topic of your old friends.

"eh? hopefully with a boyfriend if lung cancer hasn't taken her out already." geto nonchalantly responded, making you gasp as you slapped his arm.

"suguru!" you scolded at his brash words.

"ow! i'm being logical." he winces, even though it wasn't a painful impact.

"i hope shoko's doing well. if it wasn't for her, none of this would've happened." you smiled, reminiscing back to that night when you last saw her.

"hm, you should give her a call then. i doubt she changed her number, she's too lazy for that." geto suggested, making your eyes widen.

"huh? wouldn't that be too risky?" you looked at him as if he grew two heads.

"probably not, i'm sure she predicted something like this." he shrugged.

"i'll see. i don't think satoru has changed his number either. you should give him a call in that case, suguru." you caressed his bottom lip.

"maybe. i'll see." he copied your answer, making you chuckle.

a lot has happened between these past five years, both you and geto took it one step at a time. maybe one day, you both can finally muster up the courage to catch up with your old friends.

but for now, no one else needed to exist in the world that you both created that was meant for you two only.

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dear-ao3 · 7 days

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Question for the mods....

HOW IN THE FUCK DID YOU MEET???

Like what???

How??

I am so god damn curious about you two. I wanna study yall under a microscope lol

Also ngl kinda envious of how close of friends you two seem to be. (Being an introverted shy af mofo sucks lmao)

I would actually probably read a whole ass book or watch a sitcom or something of the seemingly ever present weird-ass shit that seems to happen on a day-by-day basis.

/gen /lh /nf /pos

2018 newsies fandom. we weren't overly close but we bonded over race and albert a little and then katya dropped off the face of the earth for about a year.

during 2020 lockdown we both independently got into the witcher fandom and somehow ran into eachother again and had the fingers pointing OH MY GOD Y O U !!! moment in our dms. we bonded over hating jaskier. during this time we realized we were both dancers and katya was looking at dance colleges, i was already in college for dance and since it was lockdown and we couldn't go anywhere i told katya my experience auditioning at places to give him a good idea of places. and then i broke every internet safety rule known to man and said hey what if you had applied to my college but didnt know it?? and then one thing led to another and i dished out all the tea on my school. (only After that did we face reveal and give eachother our names lol) and then katya applied. mostly as a joke. until it wasnt a joke because that school gave katya a shit load of money and actually had stuff katya wanted to do. katya ended up coming to one of my zoom ballet classes and it took everything we had to not loose our shit on camera.

during this time we mostly kept eachother sane in lockdown writing witcher fanfic, and sending eachother awful thirst traps on instagram to pitbull music. one of our awful bits was using the dilf filter to make bad frat boy edits.

come august of 2021 we both moved into college. the same college. in the same building. it was wild. i pinched myself several times in shock. we went on a walk around campus with some worms on strings and were like what the hell how did we get here.

we continued to hang out and did weird insane things together. we took a class on the french revolution together where i had to put up with katya and fennec awkwardly flirting (read: making finger guns at eachother).

and then, since i was 2 years older, i was graduating and was going to stay in the area for a job and was like hey. what if we got an apartment together? and then we did. several adults agreed to this. idk why they let us. but now we live together in a real life apartment and we haven't even killed eachother yet. neither of our parents know that we met online. each of them have a different fake story as to how we know eachother and we really just hope they are never in the same room long enough to ask eachother about it. but its insane. 12/10 would recommend.

katya wanted me to include old tumblr screenshots of us talking, heres what i found from circa 2020:

we've always been like this lol

and heres some ancient greatest hits from instagram, i dont have context and trust me you dont want it:

every now and then the two of us look at eachother and go. how the fuck did we end up here??? (we have no idea)

#not a tag #from saph #storytime ig lol #sorry for the god awful quality #essentially we are basically dan and phil which is insane

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hamable · 1 year

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I fully stood up jumping like a kid on Christmas watching the older versions of the kids as Luz starts wild magic college, getting to see how the Isles is adapting after a few years of reconstruction, HOW EVERYONE AGED AND GOT NEW LOOKS IM A SUCKER FOR CHARACTER DESIGN ASDHFLGLDH!!! All the kids got matching Flapjack tattoos did you see did you see did you see!!!!!! Magic slowly coming back as King grows older, Alador and Darius finding a way to remove the coven marks, Eda starting a wild magic school, Luz being a BAMF and majoring in everything. God all the kids looks were so cool I can’t get over them.

AH AND LUZ’s TITAN FORM!!! SHE SAID DAUGHTER OF THE HUMAN REALM, STUDENT OF THE DEMON REALM, AND WARRIOR OF BEASTS!!!!! SO UNBELIEVABLY COOL!!!!

Edit: ppl are saying she said Warrior of Peace, that sounds more right, my b

ALSO ASIDE FROM THE EPILOGUE STUFF THE WHOLE EPISODE WAS ALSO REALLY GOOD IM JUST PROCESSING IN REVERSE ORDER.

#I watched live so I don’t have screenshots rn but don’t you worry I’ll be fixated on this for a good long time #the owl house spoilers #the owl house #watching and dreaming #watching and dreaming spoilers #Thank you Dana Terrace and the rest of the animators cast and crew for a wonderful journey filled with magic and love #The owl house may not have run forever but it will live forever

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ghostlythunderbird · 1 year

Text

The Pack ~ The Letter

Pairings: Alpha!Konig, Alpha!Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alpha!Keegan P. Russ X Omega!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors/Ageless Blogs DNI, Omegaverse, Mentions of Anxiety/Panic attack, Ghost and Keegan are kinda mean for this one (Im sorry!), Konig being a big softie for Reader, Mostly Fluff for this one!

Words: 4,437 (Went a little too wild with this one!)

Author’s Notes: Please do not repost, edit, or translate my work. This blog and all content will be marked 18+ even if there is no NSFW content, if you are underage or have no age I don't want to deal with you. So sorry for the long time to update, I'm currently recouping after my hand surgery so ill try and update when I can, it sucks trying to write with one hand XD.

Summary: After being introduced to your new pack, you are taken to your new home or 'Den' at this point. While the introduction part went almost seamlessly, your starting to figure out that these alphas might be a little hard to get along with.

The drive home was nothing less than silent; aside from König sitting in the back seat with you, the two other alphas were quiet. 'Maybe they are the strong silent type.' You had told yourself. While you wanted to ask anything about themselves, you had a strong feeling that you would be told to be quiet by these alphas.

Close to an hour later, the car had come to pull into a short driveway. Looking out the window, the house itself was decent from the outside. A standard brick suburban house, copied and pasted much like many others on both sides of the street. The red bricks and white paneling nearly blinded you as you stared at it. Before you could ponder more on the look of your new 'home' the door on your side opened, The Alpha known as Ghost stood there "Come on, out ya get."

Sliding out of the vehicle you were snatched up by König who gently guided you up the steps to the front door. "Don't worry about your stuff right now, Schatz. We will get it later." Without another word, the front door was finally opened.

Your new home was lackluster; if you googled a Bachelor pad, this would be the definition of one. While there was furniture, it didn't feel as homey as you had expected. The living room was bare other than the oversized L-shaped couch and T.V. stand it faced. Hell, these guys didn't even have a fucking coffee table, of all things. As you further overlooked the room, you noticed the bare white walls. No different colored paint, picture frames, or calendar was hung up.

Just an empty minimalistic house. Perfect for three military bachelors.

As you stepped through the front door, you nearly lost your breath after the mix of alphas scents. The overall musk almost sent you to your knees, through the overbearing scent hints of Cinnamon, Vanilla, Mint, Smoke, and Leather blended in almost perfectly.

Minutes passed as you regained yourself before you looked back towards the door to find König waiting for you to continue. "Are you okay, Schatz?" His voice was soft as he began to approach you. While you knew his second gender and the horror stories your family had told you growing up, none seemed to fit his character. His sheer size alone would make anyone panic if he approached, but with him nervously clutching his hands to soothe his anxiety. It made him appear much less intimidating and rough around the edges, reminding you more of a large shelter dog being welcomed into a new house for the first time. He wanted you to accept his home, his den, as somewhere you would feel comfortable and safe.

From Konig's point of view, None of this seemed real to him.

In two weeks, König went from a pack-less and omega-less Apex to not just having his own pack but an omega that he could protect and care for. Everything was a mirage that could disappear should he touch it. But seeing you here before him, nothing less of a goddess, made it much more believable. "If you two are going to have an emotional moment, at least move out of the fucking doorway so people can get into the damn house." Ghost growled out as he passed both of you. Keegan followed close behind, but unlike Ghost, he gave you a blank stare as he passed.

Looking down towards you, König felt his anxiety rear its head. Your face had fallen and a sour tone began to line your once relaxing scent. as you watched the two alphas walk away from the door.

As wordlessly they came in, they disappeared up the stairs to their shared room. This brought König to sigh heavily as he looked down at you again. "Don't worry, Schatz. They will warm up to you……eventually" He wasn't sure if he was telling you this or trying to reassure himself at the pair's attitude that one eighty once they were back in their den.

He didn't want you to feel they despised your existence as soon as you entered their lives. "Why don't we get you settled? I'm sure you're ready to rest." With the Apex mentioning this, your eyes lit up, and you couldn't help but smile at him. "Definitely; it seems like we all need a fat nap."

Both you and König laughed before he led you up the stairs. Reaching the next floor, he showed you where the single bathroom was and his, Ghost, and Keegan's bedrooms, just in case. At the end of the hallway was the final room. "This was Ghost's room originally, but once we were accepted, we all decided to leave one room open for you. So that you have your own space away from us." Upon opening the room, you were presented with one of the most enormous beds you'd ever seen. Resting on top were bags on bags of not just new nesting material. This ranged from thick fluffy comforters to sleek silk sheets; however, they lacked color.

It was a swirl of black and white with an underlying mix of grey.

It rendered you motionless as you took in the sheer amount, had these alphas gone out and bought you a whole nest and a half of material? You had never heard of alphas going to these lengths to make an omega comfortable. As you looked toward the Apex in the doorway, the anxiety in his posture was evident.

His hands were drawn up to his chest, clutching pieces of his shirt into his hands. He was even slouched forward to lower his overall height to match yours, even with it being impossible without him going to his knees.

"Well, I uh.....I'll leave you to get settled. Just call for us if you need anything." Without another word, the Apex left, closing the door behind him.

With that, you turned back to look at the covered bed before finally moving to clear off the excessive amount of nesting material lumped together. What you thought was an easy 15-minute job turned into 45 simply because your omega was getting too far distracted by the number of gifts she was given.

'Soft and Secure. Alphas are perfect, bringing nice gifts for a nest. The perfect nest for Alpha's pups.' She yipped. You were startled back to reality, god you haven't even known these alphas for a whole day, and suddenly, your omega is presenting herself, begging to be bred by these practical strangers. 'Jesus, you need to focus' Shacking your head to rid your mind of the intrusive thoughts, you attempted to finish your task.

Why would your omega be so enamored even after how the other two alphas seemed to want nothing to do with you?

Once all the material was put away for the time being, you had a yawn slip from your mouth. How long have you been up today? It was well over 14 hours at this point. Why not take a quick break. Deciding to rest, you had walked towards the sorted assortment of nesting materials before you settled on one of the larger and softer blankets. The void color overtook your view as you pulled it from its packaging.

'So soft,' You tiredly thought. After making it onto the bed and ensuring the blanket fully covers you, you finally lay down. Letting the bed hold the weight of your body.

It was quiet as you brought the blanket further up your chin. The only audible noise in the room was the sound of the ceiling fan. You hadn't realized how mentally exhausted you were from the entirety of not just today but the past few weeks. Each blink drew slower and slower until your vision went black, and your mind drifted to dreamless slumber.

~~~~~Flashback~~~~~

The sound of the T.V. did so little to drown out König's thoughts; König primarily spent the little time he had away from his rather dangerous occupation thinking about the 'What ifs' of his life. He was so caught in his thoughts he didn't realize Ghost had come back into the house, his hands full with mail. Most were bills, but one was large and thick compared to the rest.

Ghost placed all the envelopes on the counter before sorting them; the largest was addressed to König. From the Alpha Pack Selection Program. Something that the resident Apex had waited for close to 4 weeks for a response, one that hopefully bared good news. "König." His gruff voice echoed out.

Being pulled from his overreactive mind, the Apex leaned slightly to look at the other Alpha. The manilla folder being held transformed into a brightly lit target to the Austrian sprawled out on the couch.

The large man lunged off the couch, startling the smaller Alpha, who had just descended the stairs. "Jesus, König, a bit of a fucking warning." Keegan couldn't help but snarl after nearly getting run over by the Apex. It was rare for these sorts of incidents to happen in the house; the two alphas and the Apex were incredibly aware of where each was and their schedules.

König was zeroed entirely in on the envelope in Ghost's hand, while he may have been eager to receive this letter. He couldn't help but fear their answer; after their last response, it would make seven rejections from the program. Each time was for the same reason "Due to your Apex representation, we regretfully have to decline your enrollment to our program." But it still didn't stop him from taking it and tore the envelope open. "well, come on mate, what does it say?" Ghost nudged his arm; the Apex hadn't realized that Ghost had even rounded the corner to stand beside him.

König took in a deep breath before releasing as he unfolded the papers to read the words printed onto the paper.

Dear Applicant,

It has come to our attention that you have sent multiple applications over the last few years. Each one followed with a swift rejection from our programs as your representation would cause an upset in both our application alphas who may be paired with you and in the omegas who could be assigned to your care.

While we appreciate the time and effort you have invested in becoming part of this program, we have concluded that we will no longer accept any future applications from you. However, with this harsh news, we will allow a new application with you, but you must have at least two other alphas willing to become paired with you in a pack.

This envelope contains four applications for alphas willing to work and be assigned to a shared omega. These applications are only viable for 30 days; afterward, we will no longer accept any attempts to pair you. As well as, all previous information you provided will be deleted from our database.

~ The Alpha Pack Selection Program council

The silence that surrounded the air of the Alphas was suffocating. Even with the tv playing in the background, it was drowned out by the tense atmosphere. König felt like he couldn't breathe; until a sob forced its way out, and air seemed to flood his lungs again. How was he supposed to find someone willing to pack with him? and within 30 days? No one wanted to be stuck with him, and he hardly knew any other Alphas outside his work. And those he did work with? Most were already packed or swore off mating altogether.

This was it, his final chance to be accepted. With no potential pack-mates, he would lose his only chance of finding a mate and having pups. The world wanted him to live the rest of his life, never knowing the sweet touch of the omega for which he would lay down his life. To never know the feeling of pure happiness looking at a pup made from his omega and himself. A piece of him that he helped create.

Why? Why. Why. Why. WHY.

He hadn't realized that he was beginning to have a panic attack until Ghost dug his fingers into his shoulder. König could feel his body trembling, rolling off in waves, making his balance waver. "König, mate, you need to breathe," Ghost told him hushedly. Ghost and Keegan shared a look as the Apex slumped forward onto the counter, his head falling forward into his hands.

Steadying his breathing, König straightened his back and pushed the papers away as they burned him. While his day may have been uneventful, he wished he had never opened the damn letter now. The crushing weight that bared on his shoulders now seemed to grow heavier as the seconds passed. Looking at the stack of papers, Ghost couldn't help but look at the pages that caused König to damn near crumble before them.

The words spilled out before he made him sick. Why are they just now sending this? After all those years König spent trying to be accepted in this shitty program and getting rejected every time, they decide now to tell him what he needs to be accepted. Talk about hitting a man while he's down. Looking towards the dark-haired Alpha, leaning against the back of the couch, "Keegan, take a look at this fuckin' shit." While reading over the papers, the smaller Alpha couldn't believe the audacity of these fucking people. All this just because he was a slightly different second gender?

Casting a glance at the large Apex, who seemed to be on the verge of shutting down completely. While Keegan was a hardass, usually, he couldn't help but feel bad for his brother-in-arms. "So they are telling you to find a pack outside this program to be accepted? What a load of crap." His brain couldn't help but reel at the fact they were giving him only 30 days to figure this out; who could even help him now? He paused. Looking between Ghost and König, he knew what he was about to say would either be genius or he was about to be hit for. "What if Ghost and I pack with you?"

König and Ghost both wheeled around, both wearing surprised expressions. "The fuck are you on about? Did you hit your head on your last O.P.?" Ghost exclaimed as he stepped toward the smaller Alpha. "How are we the best options for a fuckin pack?" Keegan took a step backward as Ghost entered his space. 'Fuck, probably should have kept my mouth shut.'

Clearing his throat, "Think about it, Ghost, we're both unbonded alphas who know König the best; hell, we already live with him. And he needs a pack to be accepted. Why not throw us in and see where we go?" The air between them grew tense as the larger Alpha stared at him. "Right, and we're the best choices to take care of an omega; last I checked, neither of us have been around one." Ghost spoke through a tense jaw. As much as he was against being anywhere around an omega, he knew it was the best option between them.

König looked at them both. "A-are you guys sure? I know you guys aren't comfortable with this; I don't want you to force yourselves into this just because of me." The Apex was ecstatic to hear that they would try, but he knew he couldn't get his hopes up with this. There was still the possibility they would all be rejected.

"If this gets you into that program, I will push for it as much as possible." Keegan calmly stated. The Apex looked towards Ghost, who still looked unsure, giving him a kicked puppy look.

The blonde Alpha signed before giving König a look. "Alright, we'll give it a go. But if they reject us, this Program business stops. Are we clear on that?" König nodded ecstatically while Keegan released a deep chuff. The emotions swept over the Apex so much he didn't realize he had dragged Ghost into a bear hug. "GET OFF ME, YOU FUCKIN MUPPET; Keegan, help me out ere'!"

~~~~~~

After sending in the paperwork, they got their response two weeks later.

They were accepted.

König felt like he was about to pass out; everything was starting to work out. But it was only the beginning for the newly formed pack. Not only were they a pre-formed pack, but due to their extended military service, they were also notified that they could choose their omega. Hence the giant pile of files on the kitchen table.

It felt like they'd been at this for hours, passing the scent samples for each one to inhale. Each Alpha had the scent samples they liked, but when presented to the other two, it was met with a swift rejection and sometimes with a comment. While some omegas looked good on paper or had a decent scent, the Alphas couldn't agree.

"How about this one? She comes from a wealthy family in Italy, and it even says, 'She enjoys the finer things in life.'

"No, Keegan, It sounds like she'd be more of a glorified brat. Anyone born with a silver spoon in their mouth is nothing but trouble for people in our job."

Or it's a same-answer vote.

"Yeah fuck this one; smells like a Hospital."

"I'm going to have to agree with Ghost on this one. It reminds me of when my mom used so much cleaner in the house when I was a kid."

They thought this would be the easiest part, but they were definitely over their heads. Ghost finally stood up in a rage. "We've been sitting here for fuckin HOURS, and not a single one we have agreed on. Most of them smell like shite too." The Alpha raised his hands and walked to the fridge to grab another beer. KKönig stood as well at the other Alpha's tone. "No one said the selection was easy, and there's only a few left. Let's get through them, and then we can take a break." The Apex pleaded.

That only seemed to rile up the exasperated Alpha more "How the hell are we going to find an omega at this point? We can't agree on a single one?" Both alphas stared at each other "HOW DO YOU KNOW? WE ARENT EVEN DONE!"

Keegan watched as both alphas continued to argue; their conversation slowly was tuned out as he watched while resting his head in one hand. As much as he wanted to pipe up to aid König in calming Ghost down, He knew better than to get between these two during times like this. Before Keegan could intervene, a quick breeze of something sweet passed his nose, and the Alpha couldn't help but follow it back to the remaining folders. This scent was the best one he'd had all day, so he couldn't help but be curious.

It led him to a file towards the bottom that seemed much newer but was thinner than the other files in the stack. Once he opened it, the sweet scent was no longer teasing him. Taking the scent sample from the file, Keegan couldn't stop himself from pressing it to his nose and inhaling deeply.

It felt like he became weightless for those seconds; how had he not noticed this one earlier? It reminded him of the smell of fresh rainfall, a sweet yet calming scent. His Alpha couldn't help but be drawn to whoever the smell belonged to; without a second thought, Keegan pulled back from the cloth to look at the pages in the folder. Whoever's file this was about was the smallest one he had seen from the entire stack.

The picture attached gave him a view of the person that caught his Alpha’s attention.

You were stunning; His Alpha yipped in delight. ‘Yes, yes! Pretty mate! Must mate, Must protect!’

However, something felt wrong in the picture. Looking closer, the smile that graced your features didn't seem to reach your eyes. Your eyes held sadness and hidden anger that could reveal itself should you choose to snap. As his eyes flickered across the pages, Keegan stored everything he could about you away.

Omega Profile

Name: (Y/N) (L/N)

Age: 23

Sex: Female

Second Gender: Omega

Personality: N/A. Omega and Family declined to file the Omega Attribute survey.

The sickening sound of glass crack made Keegan snap his head upwards; the sight before him was far from good. Ghost and König stood only a few feet apart; the Apex and Alpha had their teeth bared and chests puffed up. Ghost was making his displeasure clear to the Apex while König was getting close to putting him back in his place among the three. It wasn't often it happened due to each other's work schedule, but when it did, someone was going to have their ego bruised, and some furniture might end up being broken.

“I highly recommend to watch what you say next, Simon.” The Apex spoke. His voice had dropped an octave; His Apex was close to taking over to deal with the Alpha. Ghost was silent before scoffing, moving to clean up his broken glass of bourbon. Keegan took this as his chance to break the tense air. “If you two are done with your pissing contest, I think I got one.” He slowly held up the small cloth between his index and middle fingers. As much as Keegan wanted to hoard the small cloth to himself, he needed to let at least his newfound packmates have a chance to decide if the omega was a good fit.

König was the only one who returned to the table to remove the cloth from Keegan’s hand. Lifting it towards his nose, he caught the scent almost immediately. It had him completely forgetting his altercation just minutes prior. “wow….I like this one; her scent is not overpowering and smells good. Simon, wanna try this one?” The Apex had turned back to the Alpha, who was leaning on the counter nursing a new glass of bourbon. The look in his eyes made Konig nervous; the Blonde Alpha was definitely over the whole experience, but seeing how both Keegan and König agreed on the scent patch, it seemed to be at least a contender.

Sighing, He set his drink on the counter before returning to the table. König slowly held the cloth towards him, but before he took it, he looked towards the two Alphas. “If this one smells like shite, I'm punching both of you.” Simon grumbled before snatching the small fabric. He stared at the cloth before finally giving in; as soon as the scent filled his nose, it was as if all the tension in his body had just melted away.

The other Alphas held their breath as they waited to see what the blonde alpha had to say. Simon looked at the pair as he set the cloth on the table near the open file. “Well, she doesn't smell bad. What's in her file?”

Keegan and König shared a look before handing Simon the file; It seemed they finally agreed on their potential omega.

~~~~~

The days counting down to them finally meeting you and bringing you home were absolutely hectic, to say the least. So many emotions filled the small townhouse as all three alphas cleaned and organized the house as best as they could, no omega should have a dirty home when they come home in the alpha's mind. Most were bouts of Anxiousness and Frustration, a vast majority were from the poor Apex who checked everything twice to make sure everything was perfect.

At the one-week mark Ghost and Keegan decided to move into the same room to make sure you have a space for yourself as you settled down. The move sparked from just the simple question "Where is our omega going to stay until she's warmed up to us?" To say it had the alphas taking multiple steps back was an understatement. Another thing that was brought up (By Ghost mind you) was what were you going to use should you decide to make a nest.

It may have not been something the Alphas were well versed in, but they at least made an effort. Cue the three alphas going out and buying almost two whole carts full of nesting material, plus the whole material selection boot camp.

"What about this one? It's big and it's super soft!" ~ König

"No no, She needs something that won't stick to her if she uses this for her heats. What about that silk sheet kinda stuff?" ~ Keegan

"Why not just get her some fucking blankets and pillows, This nesting shit can't be that complicated" ~ Ghost

It was definitely quite the scene watching these big alphas carry multiple bags worth of nesting material due to them being unsure what to get.

Once everything was settled, the day when they finally got to meet you arrived. The checking-in process was seamless, soon leading to the alphas being led to a smaller room waiting for the actual introduction. From what the receptionist had told them the Omegas family still needed to finalize paperwork, It had been the longest wait any of the alphas had ever done. But when the door finally opened to reveal the betas and you, time seemed to stand still.

They collectively decided they would die for you if it made you happy.

~~~~~

It had been a few hours since König had left your room. Call him paranoid, but no noise was coming from the door. Worried about you, he walked back to your door before knocking.

"(Y/N)? Is everything okay?" Hearing no response, he slowly opened the door and was greeted by a dimly lit room. And there on the bed, you laid completely still on the massive bed, sound asleep.

Once you walked in through that door, all his fears and worries seemed to implode and no longer existed. You were more than everything he could have dreamed of; how you weren't already paired was beyond him. You entangled him. Everything about you was beautiful, from your hair and eyes to your body. It wasn't until he had heard his name from downstairs that he was brought out of his trance.

He was casting you one last glance, taking in your sleeping form before turning to leave. König told himself he would make this work. Because now that he had you, He wasn't ever going to let you go.

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#simon riley x reader #keegan russ x reader #konig x reader #cod ghost #konig cod #cod keegan #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #konig x you #konig #konig mw2 #keegan russ #keegan p russ #omega reader #omegaverse #female reader

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cherry-pop-elf · 3 months

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What their Amortentia would smell like: Weasley Edition

All you did was something so harmless. You entered the WWW shop, and explored. Found yourself by the love potions, uncorked it for shits and giggles, and the smell sends you down a rabbit hole

Writing Commissions Open

William ‘Bill’

The beach. You smell the beach. The warm sand, the cool salt air, and the distant wind of beach flowers. It’s so warm, and inviting. The more you inhale, you smell something else. Marble. You smell cold stone, as if you were in Gringotts. A cooling scent to keep you grounded. A giggle leaves you, as you knew you smelled wet dog in there. You were going to keep that last detail to yourself. But, it did solidify something. He did smell like wet dog after his showers. You damn well knew it. Your Billy Boy.

Charlie

A smack to the face it was. This intense campfire. Very specifically a camp fire. Not a wood stove, not a fire place. It was a campfire. With those blends of nature, and burning of dried leaves. The smell of a campfire in the dead of night. When your eyes stopped watering from the smoke stench, you could smell something else. It’s almost like berries. Wild berries. A sweet, almost tart, against all that fire. Along with leather. Oh the leather clings to your throat. It stays with you, and hangs. That’s your Charlie alright.

Percy

Parchment. Parchment, and books. A rather bland scent. You swore you could even smell a freshly corked ink bottle as well. Amongst the paper, you smelled something else. Earth. You smelled earth. Specifically earth that had been freshly rained on. It’s such a soothing scent. Despite its blandness, it was comforting. It’s very familiar, and soothing. Just because it was simple, did not mean it was boring. It was his scent after all. It’s a simplistic, homey, scent. Simple, but never boring. Oh Percy. Your sweet little Percy.

Fred

Grape. That surprised you. Yes there was the expected. There was the scent of fire, gun powder, everything that defined a fire work. Yet, grape was a surprise. Grape, and tea. Specifically grape tea. There was also this distant taste of night air on the back of your tongue. As if you were enjoying a cup of cold grape tea, during a rainy night time sit on the porch. It was an almost mature scent. Fred? Mature? You were speechless. Yet, you couldn’t deny it. It’s him. It’s him to the smallest accent. Your Freddie.

George

Oranges. Oranges, and freshly made pastries. Yes, there was that familiar fire work scent, but you also smelled oranges. As if someone made orange cupcakes, and served it with an overly sugary coffee. It very much was a scent of someone waking up early in the morning. Fixing a cup of sugary coffee, with some freshly peeled oranges, while enjoying a freshly baked cookie. It’s so warm, and cozy. As if entering a kitchen, after the Fourth of July party. It’s so homey. Yep, that’s your Georgie.

Ron

Very fresh, funny enough. Like cut grass, and fresh laundry. It’s just a very homey scent. Like you were home sick, and you finally got to walk in through the front door again. It’s such a soft embrace. Like being hugged, after a rough day. You swear you even smell wool. Like of an old sweater, that’s been loved to death. Very musky, but in a good way. Like someone’s been working hard on a garden all day, and came inside to cool off. It’s such a warm scent. It makes you smile, and feel almost refreshed in a way. It was just right. It was home. Ron was your home, and he can make your day turn out for the better. Even if it’s just a few words. Your Ronnie.

Ginny

Wind. That’s the first thing that comes to mind. Just that scent of a windy day, where nature is carried through. The soft scents of floral undertones, mixed with fresh grass. There is also the scent of wood. Specifically freshly cut wood. Like someone had been whittling away, and was working hard on a project. Such earthy undertones, amongst the familiar scent of her favorite perfume. She wasn’t much of a girly girl, but that didn’t mean she hated femininity as a whole. Besides, her brother got it for her. That’s when you smiled. This was a scent of a little sister, that was loved so much, and strong in her independence. Oh that Gin Gin.

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miniwheat77 · 8 months

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Wild. (Rudy x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, MINORS DNI! unprotected p in v sex, (sorry if I missed any.)

*not edited*

When people think of Rudy they think of him as a kind, gentle, loving man. And they’re not wrong, not at all. He’s gentle, he’s a good problem solver. He’s good at soothing people when they’re upset in any way. He’s good at de-escalating situations, and he’s a phenomenal getaway driver.

Everyone knows Rudy is a family man, but he doesn’t talk much about his wife. Alejandro has only met her a couple of times and knows that she’s quiet and reserved.

But everything was about to change, because you were coming to work on base as a bookkeeper for Alejandro.

—

When people met you, they were surprised. You were stunning which made sense because of course, Rudy was good looking. But than, talk started around the base.

Alejandro had overheard very gross conversations between a few of his men, making them do push ups and handing out suspensions like candy on Halloween. He didn’t expect Rudy’s wife of all people to be such a big topic. You got plenty of glances from the men on base and it made you uncomfortable and Alejandro was furious obviously. They looked like a pack of hungry wolves and it was absolutely ridiculous behavior.

After about a month or so, everything finally calmed down. Everything slowly started going back to normal, but you were still getting cat called. They would say gross things to you, stare you down. They were ridiculous.

You were sitting in the mess hall, figuring out a spreadsheet and drinking coffee. Rudy and Alejandro were getting coffee, and you were getting frustrated with the conversations you were overhearing from the table near you. “Yeah, I’d hit that. There’s no way Rudolfo is satisfying that.”

That was your last straw. You let out a very exaggerated sigh, standing up and pushing your chair in. Which gathers a few glances from those around you. You stand there with the spreadsheets in your hand. Leaning up against the table with your arms crossed. “You know I’m sitting 5 feet away from you, I can hear absolutely everything you’re saying.” You say. This catches the attention of everyone, including Rudy and Alejandro who are waiting for coffee. “Yeah? So what. Nothing I said was untrue.” He shrugs. He smiles.

You send him a very fake smile.

“Listen.. Sergeant Ramirez right? There’s a reason that none of the women on this base interact with you. Because you’re a total creep who keeps talking about having sex with a married woman.” You laugh. “I don’t know why my sex life is sooooo interesting to you, but since you must know, it’s great. Rudy is satisfying me just fine, I’m a VERY happy wife. But thanks for your.. weirdly obsessive concern.” You step closer, your face only a few inches from his. “If I hear you say “I’d hit that.” One more fucking time, I’m going to hit you right in the jaw with my fist. Am I clear?” You narrow your eyes at him. He’s clearly embarrassed, nodding his head. “Great!” You say. Walking away from your table, down the hall. “Jesus Christ.” Alejandro laughs. “Didn’t realize she had such a fire in her.” Rudy laughs, bringing his coffee up to his lips. “Oh, no tienes idea del tipo de actitud que domino en el dormitorio.” He takes a drink of his coffee, trying not to smile when Alejandro nearly chokes on his. “Jesus Rudy!” He laughs.

“I’m gonna go check on her.” Rudy laughs. He’s not wearing his normal gear yet, still just wearing black jeans and a white t-shirt. Wearing that signature comfortable grey jacket he has. He opens the door to your room, seeing you looking over something. “Hey. You alright, amor?” He breathes. You nod your head. Turning to look at him. “Don’t let them get to you.. they’re just.. immature.”

“They don’t get to me, I just hate that they think you’re so soft.” You narrow your eyes, an evil grin playing at your lips. “The Rudy I know is far more devilish than they know.” You roll your eyes. “Yeah? That’s cause I have to do something to combat that fucking attitude of yours.” He crosses his arms. You roll your eyes. “Fuck you Rudy.” You laugh. “Sí, te gustaría eso, ¿no?” He smirks. “Quizás lo haría.” You reply. He snorts, locking the door behind himself. He pushes his jacket off, discarding it on the floor as he makes his way toward you. He cups your face, kissing you hard. Helping you pull your clothes off, only stopping to tug your shirt off. He reaches for his belt but you stop his hand. “Keep it on.” You breath.

He rolls his eyes.

He grasps your wrist, tugging you until your back is to him. His lips ghosting by your ear. “I forgot..” he chuckles. The fabric of his shirt burns your bare skin. “You like the way it rattles when I fuck you.” He whispers. “I hope you think about the way I fuck you anytime you hear something rattling.” He growls, pushing you down onto the bed. You whine as he pulls your hands behind your back, lining his cock up with your aching hole. When he sinks into you, you’re gasping out. Trying to take in a breath. Turning to look at him. He pushes your hips into the mattress, rutting his hips into you. “Fuck Rudy-“ you gasp. He’s breathing hard as he fucks into you, gritting his teeth. No matter how many times he was inside of you, he’d never get used to it.

He tries to keep you quiet as he rocks his hips into yours but he doesn’t really care who hears at this point anymore. You push your hips back into him, and he smiles as he moves away. “I wanna ride you.” You breathe. He smiles. He sees your chair, sitting down in it and you move quickly sit in his lap, lining him up with your entrance again, moaning as you sink down onto him. He rests his hands on your hips, looking up at you as you start to rock your hips into him. “Fuck..” he sighs. “You’re so fucking good at this.” He breathes. “Siéntete tan jodidamente bien mi amor.” He breathes, looking up at you through his eyelashes. His eyes are dark and loving as he looks up at you. “God, no wonder they think you’re so sweet, stop looking at me like that.” You breath, pushing down on his chest and rocking into him, raising up off of him more, taking more of him down. “Ah-“ he moans, a smile still on his face. “I’m not doing anything.” He mutters. “Yeah you are, you keep looking at me like you love me or something.” You giggle, a gasp leaving your lips as he thrusts up into you. “Maybe that’s just because I love you. Love that attitude, love your personality.” He breathes. “Love this perfect body you have, love the way you make me feel. And god do I love watching you put people in their fucking place.” He gasps. Thrusting up into you faster. You clutch onto the chair for dear life. “Me vuelves loca de mierda.” He gasps, tilting his head back.

You cup his cheeks, kissing him as he holds your hips, thrusting up into you. He can feel you getting tighter around him, and he’s fucked you enough to know that you’re close, so he stands up with you, lays you back on your bed, and hammers his hips into yours until your crying out his name. “Yeah, that’s it. Cum for me.” He breathes. “Muéstrame lo buena chica que eres.” He growls. You reach your peak with a gasp, eyes screwing shut and he pins your hips to the bed so that you can’t squirm away from him as he rides out your high. He grits his teeth, letting out a cry when he reaches his own orgasm. Not pulling out of you even when he knows he should.

He takes a deep breath. Pulling away from you with a sigh, moving himself to lay next to you.

When you make eye contact, he’s got that same look in his eye that makes you laugh. “What?” He rolls his eyes. “Nothing, I love you.” You breathe. “I love you too. Now Cmere.” He breathes, pulling you into him.

A knock at the door has you both going stiff.

“I think you’ve made your point, hermano.”

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #rudy cod #rudy x reader #rudy parra

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farfromstrange · 3 months

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Mismatched Bridesmaid | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 2 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Deciding to go to your old college roommate's wedding turns into a bad idea when you suddenly have to function as a bridesmaid until you're paired with a very handsome groomsman.

Warnings: Fluff, attempt at humor, SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "good girl", One-Night Stand, shameless flirting, kind of "horny at first sight", so cheesy it might make you hate cheese

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: I was wondering why this didn't post until I saw that I hit "save draft" instead of schedule, so this may come on time for some and too late for others, but I'm still awake, so it counts as the 15th. Also, when I wrote this it was after hinting at it on here, and I was excited at first, but I'm not too happy with it now because it's just silly and falls a little flat, in my opinion. This is why I went back in and edited a hell of a lot, adding some things, etc. Nevertheless, I promised to clear out the vault for this event, so this is it. I got inspired by seeing the She-Hulk clips when the episode with Matty came out. It may or may not be noticeable. We're also working with the Nelson, Murdock & Page narrative. Enjoy!

You are not made for white-veil occasions.

While weddings, in their essence, symbolize unity while covering different facets of romantic beauty, they are also inherently stressful for nearly everyone involved in the proceedings. Over the years of adulthood, you’ve found that weddings tend to end in disaster when you attend—and you are not particularly fond of engaging in drama.

When your old college roommate sent you an invitation to her wedding in June, you considered responding with no. You’ve been close for a few years, but then you graduated, found separate careers, and then never talked again. You weren’t sure why she would send you an invitation until you called the number on the back of the card and you began catching up. She told you that she wanted to invite you because you were a vital part of her early twenties, and it reminded you that you are both adults and you have both grown beyond what you thought possible, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell her that you couldn’t make it to her wedding. Instead, you told her that you wouldn’t miss it for the world. That answer though seemed to have turned destiny against you.

You were excited when you arrived at the chapel this morning, but as soon as your foot touched the holy ground, everything went wrong. Maybe it is because you’re an atheist and God hates you, or maybe Karma just really fucking loves toying with you. Either way, when your friend’s maid of honor—also one of the few people you hung out with during your wild college days—came up to you, looking pale and panicked, you knew that the curse you always bring to weddings was only continuing to wreak havoc.

She said to you, “One of the girls got into a car accident on her way here. Don’t worry, she’s not dead, just a broken wrist, but that means we are one bridesmaid short. I need someone to step in before Janet finds out and cuts off my head for ruining her wedding day,” and she was deadly serious about it, too.

You knew that it was a mistake to come to this wedding, especially without a date or a plus-one to fall back on.

You were so focused on marveling at the beautiful white and golden decorations living the aisle, fantasizing about the day you might be walking down one of those that you didn’t think anything could go wrong since everything had been going so right. You should have known better than to trust that treacherous feeling of excitement that you made sure to nurture before breakfast so you could enjoy the ceremony and the party afterward without making it dependent on the open bar—although that fact did help.

Instead of dreaming about free drinks though, you’re being squeezed into a satin green dress with a low cut in the front, and someone you don’t know is slathering burgundy lipstick onto your lips. They are purposely trying to turn you into a copy of all the other bridesmaids, and you hate it. You hate it so much you get the sudden urge to scratch your eyes out and tear the skin off your lips.

Janet, the maid of honor, comes back up to you. She’s aged at least ten years since you last saw her when she pulled you away from the aisle. You feel for her. The entire weight of this wedding rests on her shoulders.

She eyes you, checking your outfit, before giving you a curt nod. “Thank God, you’re hot,” she mutters. You’re not sure if you were supposed to hear it.

“Thank you?” you answer awkwardly.

“Alright.” She fixes the corners of your lipstick. “We need to pair you with a different guy than Miss I-Don’t-Know-How-To-Drive was supposed to walk down the aisle with. Your looks don’t match. You’ll get Kathy’s partner,” she says. “And we need to line up, like, now because shit is happening in five minutes, not a second later. We can’t give Bridezilla the time to kill us all.”

With a frown, you ask, “Is she aware at all of what’s happening?”

Janet shakes her head. “No, and it’s better this way. Trust me.”

You stop questioning her. She knows what she’s doing.

When she guides you outside to line up, you’re not sure what to expect. You don’t know the groom, and you don’t know his friends. You’re here on your own, and now you’re part of a bridal party that you are also barely familiar with, wearing a dress that you were forced into for the sake of aesthetics. You hate when something is reduced to aesthetics because beauty has many facets, and you would have walked down that aisle with anyone as long as you could get it over with.

Until you see him. Strikingly dark hair in a perfectly cut tuxedo that underlines the muscles hiding underneath the fabric. His eyes are hidden behind round, red glasses that reflect the sunlight coming in through the already stained glass of the chapel’s windows. In his hands, he’s holding a white cane, leaning his entire weight on it as he waits. And he waits for none other than you.

Janet paired you with the most beautiful man on this planet, you can’t deny that. The way he stands there, his sharp jawline on full display—he looks ethereal. Just looking at him makes you sweat, and you’re starting to panic. What if she made a mistake? You can’t do this. You can’t—

“Matt,” she says and shoves you beside him into the line of bridesmaids and groomsmen.

Janet introduces you, and then she’s gone. She pushes you into the cold water, forcing you to learn how to swim.

He tilts his head in your direction. “Hi,” he says. The sound of his voice resembles the purr of a black cat as it reverberates, but his grin reminds you of the Devil himself.

Fuck. Me.

You either did something very wrong to land here, or you did everything right.

“Hi,” you stammer. One look at him, and the blood rushes to your cheeks. Your face is burning.

He offers you his hand. “I’m Matt,” he says as if Janet didn’t already expose that to you.

Still, you take his hand. It’s the polite thing to do. “And I’m not supposed to be here.” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so stupid.

Matt chuckles. Even his laugh sounds bittersweet. Like dark chocolate. “I, uh, gathered as much.”

“I’m sorry,” you bite your lip, “I’m not—this is really weird. I don’t even know what to say.” You pray for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, maybe that will make it less embarrassing.

His features soften. There is no judgment. You can’t see his eyes, but there is a certain softness about him that throws you off guard, but you no longer feel like you’re drowning. “If it helps, I’m only here because I helped the groom graduate law school by writing his essays, and he feels like he owes me, so…I also don’t want to be here,” he says, and he reaches up to adjust his glasses. You get a small glimpse of his eyes. They’re hazel. Beautiful. He has an aura that draws you in; it’s not just his physical beauty that strikes you.

This man—this magnetic force of a man called Matt—is a stranger. He’s a man you were paired with to walk down the aisle even though you were never meant to be a bridesmaid in this wedding in the first place. So many things are happening to and around you at once, and you can feel the flames starting to burn and sizzle away at your skin.

You should pull yourself together. You shouldn’t stare at him. You shouldn’t listen to your heart which is hammering against your ribcage. But the emotions are already running high and you can’t possibly focus on anything else. He’s like a lifeline to you.

And God, you want him to put those calloused hands on your skin and take you to bed. But that’s not something to think about in a place of God. On the day of someone else’s wedding. Except that you can’t think of anyone else, and his proximity isn’t making the situation any better for you.

Another blush threatens to take over your features. “Oh, you’re a lawyer?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “I have a firm. Nelson, Murdock & Page.”

“Here in New York?”

“Hell’s Kitchen, yeah. Me and my associates just reopened our doors to the public after a rough year.”

“Oh, that’s...cool. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you. And what do you do, if I may ask?”

His interest takes you off guard, but you don’t hesitate to answer his question. You tell him your profession, and how you met the bride, and he listens without another word. No man has ever paid you this much attention before.

Though Janet meant it when she said that you will have to start walking in exactly five minutes, not a second longer. She passed by everyone, handing out bouquets. Green with hints of red and gold. It fits the theme. They’re beautiful, but the flowers within the bouquet become a problem when she hands you your own set.

“Janet,” you stop her from leaving. “I can’t take these.”

“The fuck you can’t,” she retorts.

“Seriously, I can’t. I’m allergic to Jasmines. I’ll sneeze.”

She glares at you. “Then fucking hold it.”

There is no arguing with her, and she passes by you to continue putting everyone in their places. You stare down at the bouquet, your nose already starting to itch. The smell alone is enough to make you nauseous.

To your surprise, Matt reaches for the flowers. “May I?” he asks, but he has already grabbed a hold of them.

“Sure,” you answer, curious about where he’s going with this.

“Hold this.” He guides the top of his cane into your hand.

His fingers feel along the red ribbon. He takes a whiff. There are so many scents that would be overwhelming even to someone without heightened senses due to a lacking fifth one, so you’re even more surprised when he finds the Jasmines without a struggle. He traces the petals just to make sure, and he quickly pulls the flowers out of the bouquet, tightening the ribbon around the now smaller girth in the process.

Tossing them behind one of the pillars in the corridor, he hands them back to you. “Here,” he murmurs. “For you.”

Words elude you.

“Are you allergic to anything else?” The question is valid, considering you’re still not making a move to take the bouquet from him.

You exhale a shaky breath, reaching for the flowers, and answer without missing another beat, “Weddings.”

That elicits a giggle from him. The sound is enough to make your heart melt. Does he know what he’s doing to you?

Matt opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of heels clicking against the marble floors stops you both dead in your tracks.

Your entire body recoils when the bride’s voice rings out, echoing, “Who the fuck mismatched my bridesmaids?”

A hand rests on your bicep, and you don’t even have to look down to know that it is Matt’s. He’s the only one standing to your right, anyway. He squeezes as though to let you know that you won’t lose your head, but you’re not so sure now that your college roommate is glaring at you in a white dress that reminds you of a pastry, and her eyes are full of fury. He can’t see it, but he would cower in fear if he did.

Thankfully, Janet pulls her aside, explaining the situation to her.

“She what?!” she screeches. “On my wedding day? Are you kidding me?”

“Yes, because car accidents respect timing when it comes to special occasions,” Janet counters.

You snort. Matt beside you digs his teeth into his bottom lip, but even he can’t hide his amusement.

“Oh, snap,” you mutter under your breath.

“Shots have been fired,” he says.

“I think we’re witnessing a double homicide.”

“I’m not a very credible witness. I can only describe how it sounded, unfortunately.”

Your snort turns into a laugh. The bride’s head snaps around, and you go quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” you choke out.

“If she decides to throw a punch at your pretty face,” Matt’s breath tickles your ear, “I can be your attorney and sue her ass.”

This time, you’re conscious enough to slap a hand in front of your mouth to stifle your reaction. “How do you know I’m pretty?” you whisper back between little giggles.

He shrugs with a smirk of his own. “I just know.”

He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, and you have no choice but to submit.

Janet manages to bring some calm back to her friend eventually, and then it’s showtime. Right on the second, it’s time for you to walk down the aisle, and you have never been happier about a strict schedule and someone adamant about keeping that schedule for the sake of all of your lives.

Your roommate has always been a very dominant personality, so you’re aware of the things she can do when she doesn’t get what she wants.

An 80s pop ballad begins to play. You make sure to match your pace to everyone else but also make sure that you’re not running away from your partner.

You may have been a mismatched bridesmaid, but you can’t complain about the company.

Against all odds, the service is beyond beautiful. It’s not often you get to stand so close when two people who seem to truly love each other make a vow to be there for each other for the rest of their lives. You can’t help but shed a tear. They complement each other perfectly. Is that ever in the cards for you? Will you ever be able to have what they have? Or will you always feel like you’re not worthy of this kind of unconditional love and endless devotion—of someone wanting to spend the rest of their life with you?

You look over at Matt. The hint of a cross necklace is starting to peek out underneath his dress shirt. Of course, he’s Catholic.

He carries himself with such a grace that puts everyone else in this room to shame. Does he know that you’re staring at him? You hope not.

After the ceremony, you lose sight of Matt in the masses. He doesn’t owe you a goodbye, but you still feel a little disappointed when you return to the dressing room and finally peel the satin dress off of your very sweaty skin.

At the party afterward, he’s still nowhere to be found. You give up. Not that you want to spend the evening with him anyway, but you kind of do. You drown your sorrows in a glass of vodka cranberry and a bowl of olives. They taste like rotten meat, but there are too many people by the buffet for your liking. The last thing you want to do is mingle and get asked stupid questions by people you don’t even know. So, you stay back, and you watch from afar as everyone is having the time of their lives not so far away from you, but far enough for you to breathe.

“And here I thought weddings were supposed to be a joyous occasion,” Matt pipes up beside you, and you twirl around in your chair to face him with wide eyes.

You didn’t expect to see him back here. “Hi!” you exclaim. “What’re you—I thought you left.”

“Nah,” he says. “I just had to take care of some things.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

He smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes, that’s why I asked.”

Folding his cane, Matt lowers himself down on one of the chairs beside you and orders himself a beer with the bartender. “Let’s just say that I have an important court case coming up and I had to make a call.”

You take another sip from your drink. “That sounds a lot more exciting than my life, to be honest.”

“You are sulking at a wedding. Thinking about an ex?”

“More like life in general.”

“Ah, yes, the eternal fear of dying alone.” He raises his bottle to yours. “I’ll drink to that.”

A laugh escapes you. “That was cynical,” you say.

“And you’re not?”

He beats you at your own damn game, and he finally gets that smile he has been vying for.

“Are you smiling?” his voice is barely above a whisper.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “Maybe.” But the smile is audible in your voice, giving you away.

Matt smirks, nodding his head. “Good girl.”

The sharp vodka runs down the wrong pipe. You cough. Did he just—

He did.

He pats your back, and his hand lingers a lot longer than it should. He looks so smug. Pleased with himself. That part of him is stupidly attractive to you, even though you would usually hate such cockiness in any other man. But Matt isn’t like any other man.

You apologize for your reaction, but he should be the one apologizing to you for throwing you off your game. What is he doing? You can’t read him. You wish you could because that would make this so much easier, but that’s probably the point. He wants to tease you. He wants to mess with your head. He’s a dick. A fucking attractive dick that could tell you to do just about anything and you in your flustered state would go along with it without hesitations. That’s the kind of control he has over you, and you just met. It feels like a twisted form of destiny, but you can’t quite believe it. Yet.

“Do you always do that?” you dare to ask.

He frowns. “Do what?”

“Flirt with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests?”

A playful smirk plays on his lips.

“It’s been known to happen,” says Matt.

You poke your tongue against the soft tissue of your cheek. “Cheeky,” you murmur.

“That’s also been known to happen.”

“What, being cheeky with—”

“—with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests? Yes.” He’s catching on quickly.

You laugh and nod. “Yeah, that.”

“I do have to say though,” he adds, and for a second you think he might ruin the joke instead of playing it out further, but Matt is full of surprises, “Out of all the mismatched bridesmaids I’ve met in my thirty-something years of, um, living, you’re my favorite so far.”

With your hand, you start fanning your face rather dramatically. “I feel honored,” you say.

Again, he chuckles. “You should be.”

“Why, because you’re so irresistible?”

“I was going to say that I don’t like a lot of people because, you know, they’re dicks, but that works too.”

“Wow.” You take another sip. The liquor burns its way down your sore esophagus. “You have balls, man.”

“Is that a problem?” he counters with a question.

The answer comes naturally. “No,” you say. “I like it.”

“Good.” Hearing you clink the ice cubes against your empty glass by swirling it around, Matt concludes that you need a refill. “Can I get you another drink?” he asks.

The question sounds so innocent, but the look on his face renders you speechless. His hand inches dangerously close to yours on the counter, his knee brushing yours, and the heat shoots straight to your neglected cunt.

Fuck this.

“You could do that, or we could skip that part and just…you know.”

One brush of your hand against his thigh, that’s all it takes for him to know.

Pushing you through the door to his apartment a few minutes later, his lips are on you. The door falls shut with a loud bang, and he presses you against the wall of his hallway.

His lips feel like a silky cloud of lewdness. The way he kisses you is utterly erotic. Your lips part in a delicious moan that he swallows with a grunt of his own. He swallows it all, shoving his tongue into the tight confines of your mouth, and exploring every inch he can reach. He tastes you. He consumes you.

His hands desperately search for an ounce of bare skin. He’s tugging at your clothes, sliding and tearing them aside. Once his fingers finally brush over the bare skin of your stomach, he melts.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your leg hooks around his waist. You can’t wait. He has ignited a fire within you that no one has been able to light before. He’s touching you with a precision that puts your former lovers to shame. He’s paying attention to your every breath and heartbeat, and with every touch, he asks, “May I?”

You don’t even make it to the bedroom. Once he has successfully removed the bottom half of your clothes, he falls to his knees. He is a sight to behold. The disarray of colors that shines into his apartment illuminates his face, bathing it in a selection of hues that bring out his best features.

Matt has yet to take off his glasses, and you take the opportunity to tear them away from his face. You’re gentle though. You ask him, “May I?” mirror the question he has been asking you throughout the night, and after a thick swallow, he nods.

You caress his cheek as you remove his glasses, and when you finally see his hazel eyes in all of their glory, you have to bow down to capture his lips in a soft kiss.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper. “So fucking beautiful, Matt.”

He whimpers. You could have sworn to have imagined it, but when you stroke his cheek with such a gentleness it almost makes him recoil in anguish, you know that you didn’t imagine the sound from his lips. You kiss it away. You kiss all of his insecurities away. You want him to feel as good as he is making you feel. You don’t know him, but you want to get to know him, and if he’s ready to surrender himself to you, you are more than ready to do the same for him. He can feel that with every brush of your fingertips and every kiss you deliver to his plump lips that taste like heaven and hell in itself.

Your words don’t leave him cold. His cock is aching in his pants—you take note of his impressionable size, which only makes you more excited for what’s to come—but he refuses to take it out. Not until you’re fully satisfied. To be honest, you could come just from staring at him on his knees in front of you, looking like he would lay the world to your feet and kill everyone who has ever dared to hurt you, but that is not enough for him.

He needs the experience. Feeling your skin, tasting you, and breathing in all facets of your natural scent mixed with the artificial one from your shampoo. He can’t get enough of it. Of you. Of everything about and within you. He’s as attracted to your body as he is consumed by your soul. You’ve got him in a deadlock, but he would never complain about that.

You gasp when Matt grabs your thigh and throws it over his shoulder. Your panties are gone within seconds, torn on the floor somewhere. You’re completely bare to him.

You want to warn him that you didn’t shave, but he doesn’t care.

Before you know it, he has flattened his tongue against your pussy, and he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit.

“Fuck!” you cry out, reaching for support on the wall behind you.

He flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, testing the waters before he sucks it into his mouth.

His grip on your thigh becomes bruising. Matt eats you out like he has been starving for years and you are his first and last meal. He sucks on your clit, and he fucks you with his tongue. Your pussy is the altar he worships at. Your arousal is his holy water. He dives deeper and deeper into the wetness between your thighs, and he moans loudly when you pull at his hair.

“Fuck, Matt–” You’re clawing at whatever you can find. It feels so good. You’re higher than you have ever been.

The sound of his mouth working your slick folds toward eternal bliss is obscene and utterly sinful. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs. The pain grounds you in the here and now, making you focus on the tidal wave that is about to crash into you and tear you to shreds.

You can’t even warn him before your orgasm takes over, and it takes you into another dimension. You come with a shout of his name. It’s nothing short of explosive. The orgasm drags on through his mouth on your clit, relentlessly sucking until the nerves jump, and you’re begging him to stop.

His face glistens. With every kiss up your body, Matt marks you. By the time he has reached your quivering lips, he still tastes like you.

“You did so well,” he whispers. “Such a good girl for me.”

You exhale. Without his shoulders to hold onto, you would probably lose your footing. “You’re crazy,” is all you can say.

He smirks. “In a good way, I hope.”

“Yes. Fuck.”

“Regret coming home with me?”

“Absolutely not.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He lifts you with ease. “Then I’m going to make it worth your while.”

And when your back hits the soft mattress and silk sheets of his bed, you don’t doubt that he is going to make good on his promise.

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #daredevil #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #daredevil x reader #reader insert #lizzi’s vault #charlie cox

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justpoliteconversations · 1 month

Text

To Keep [Yandere!Sky x Isekai!Reader]

In the hands of a God killer, what is mortal flesh.

And so it begins. Took a late request for all the Chain boys as yanderes and thought it'd be a fun project. Here's the first one. It's messy and took a completely different direction from the original plan (as usual). Be warned! (May edit later. Maybe?)

Masterlist

Set-up: Comfort [Yandere!Chain + Isekai!Reader]

Sky Route

Four Route

TW: Choosing not to disclose. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

You weren't sure exactly when the change had happened in Sky, except that it had started sometime after your attempt to return home (escape) that fateful night (that awful, terrifying, blood soaked night). What you were sure of though, was how absolutely screwed you were. Because while the boys had had their issues regarding boundaries and personal space since the damned near moment you'd met them, none of them had ever specifically targeted you as the object of their undivided affection (protection. possession. obsession).

Until now, that is. And out of all of them, it had to be Sky. The one man you knew, without a shadow of a doubt (you'd seen the red, red, red drip of it on his clothes, his hands, his face below lightning shattered eyes), had a body count hidden under that tired, heart-warming smile. Had killed someone (many someones) without remorse. Without a backwards glance (with his bare hands. with his bare fucking hands).

And honestly you were just so, so confused as to why this had happened. So damned anxious by the abruptness of it. So unsettled you'd barely had the stomach to hold anything down properly for the last few days (much to Wild's and Hyrule's concern). So terrified sleep did not come, even with the drag of exhaustion so strong against the strain of your bones it pulled tears to your eyes.

There had been no sleep last night either. Not when the object of your unease (your bone-deep terror) was pressed right up against your (vulnerable) back, hot, wet breath fanning across the sensitive nape of your exposed neck (so close you could feel the flutter of his long, thick lashes against your skin). Solid, heavy arms around your carefully still body, calloused hands (powerful hands. God killing hands) resting limply around your waist, lightly cradling you as though you were precious beyond compare (so gentle. so tender. so confusingly intimate when there was no reason for such closeness).

He was awake (but dozing). You knew this all too well. He was always conscious when he was this gentle with you (so, so gentle you almost forgot what he was under those warm, loving eyes and adoring smiles).

Your heart shuddered remembering his arms squeezing around you the first time you'd tried to pull away from his sleeping grasp. Unyielding hands digging into your flesh. Seizing, bruising, punishing. Possessing strength so great your bones creaked against the press of your veins and desperate gasps had fallen breathlessly from your gaping mouth. And through it all he'd gritted his teeth behind you in fitful slumber, his might so beyond you he hadn't even stirred at your pitiful struggles or breathless cries.

Blue had had to pry him off with every ounce of strength he possessed, Red beside him keeping Sky's clutching hands from digging straight through your chest. It had been Twilight (fucking Twilight) who had pulled you free at the end, taking a hit to the face with barely a flinch when Sky launched himself for you with the promise of death in his uncomprehending eyes.

Time had to comfort Sky after. When he'd awakened to the painful beating Wild was raining down on him while the scarred man was desperately trying to get him to let go of Twilight's throat (you'll give Twilight this, despite everything. the bastard would not let up, even with hands at his throat).

But at the end of it all, they had given you back to him. Looking so sorry for you and yet so fucking sympathetic and relieved as Sky had coddled you into his arms and apologized over and over for hurting you. Just please don't pull away from him like that. It hurts him. It drives him crazy. Don't leave him.

(Fucking insanity. They were all fucking insane. Sky was delusional. This was wrong. This was so fucked up. 'Help me. Please, someone help me.')

Sky, you had learned, was a man built of power so raw and ancient and primal it ripped mortal flesh from his bones and left something other in its wake (touched by the goddess' Hyrule had whispered to you, magic pulsing like a living thing in his wide, wonder-filled eyes). Like lightning rushing through his veins, intertwined so intimately with his blood they were one in the same. Always. And it was only through the will of his bleeding heart that that might had tempered to something almost human. Almost fragile (you shook to remember those hands on you. the quiet grinding of his teeth in your ear as you'd choked and gasped and struggled and he'd pulled you in so incredibly close his skin burned against you. his wet, hot breath against your sweat-slicked skin).

(You still remember him muttering, soft and snarled and whimpering, "Don't take them. Please don't take them. They're mine. They're mine-" as your lungs had burned and your eyes had clouded with silent tears. As Blue had pulled and snarled and Red had grunted and fought for every inch of breathing room you greedily clung to.)

You never tried to pull away from him again. He kissed the back of your head each night in silent apology. His hands caressing down your side, as though looking for wounds that were no longer there (so sweet. so loving as they hesitantly pressed against your skin and flesh. ever gentle. ever careful.)

(When sleep came to him, the firm press of his arms frightened you. Terrified you. Broke you down and left you numb and compliant to his tender ministrations.)

Just before dawn, Sky will loosen his grip and rest his arm upon your still form (dozing quietly. basking in your presence. your scent). Then he'll stretch around you with a jaw-cracking yawn. He'll lean forward (as though he's not already plastered to you already) and press his forehead to your nape, breathing in deeply (fortifying himself for the day, apparently). Then he'll grunt unhappily (just the once), hoist himself onto one elbow, tuck the blankets around your neck and shoulders with care and then finally pull himself out of the bedroll.

He'll stop in front of your still form, bend down onto his hands and press a soft, lingering kiss onto your forehead (eyes closed, cheeks and ears faintly pink). Then he'll make his way over to Wars to relieve him from watch. Wars will make a playful joke about your's and Sky's 'relationship' and bed sharing before marriage, and Sky will blush from ear to ear and all the way down his neck while never denying any of it. Wars will laugh, patting Sky on the back before heading off to sleep. After the other is gone Sky will smile dopily, ears pinned back bashfully as he stares into the pre-dawn sky and sighs in bliss.

Like clockwork.

It's almost time for Sky to get up. Any moment now he'll stretch against you (around you. damned near on top of you) and yawn in your ear. You just have to wait a little longer, and then you'll be free. At least until later that night when he comes to you (he never calls to you these days. he will always, always come to you). Or until he starts feeling uneasy with your distance (since Hyrule's 'incident', he never could stand his loved ones to be too far from his sight) and moves closer to walk beside you while Wars makes a light hearted comment and Time chuckles at Sky's reddening face.

If he's feeling especially bold, Sky will brush his fingers against yours. If you don't protest (you never do. you're too frightened to find out what will happen if you do. to have those desperate lightning-shattered eyes on you once more) he may even hold your hand (with Wind play gagging in the background).

He'll look into your eyes (his own so, so love struck it made your stomach clench with longing and fear both) and tell you how happy he is that Hylia brought you to him (gave you to him. made you for him). Then he'll smile, that hopeful, heart melting smile of his, and maybe chance a kiss to your cheek.

You hoped it didn't happen. These soft, domestic interactions that made you forget (if even for a moment) what they'd done to you. What he'd done to you. What they were still doing to you and would continue to do to you.

Your heart was already so battered and conflicted from all that had happened. Frightened and betrayed but desperate for comfort and security wherever you could find it (even from the fuckers who did this to you).

A yawn. The tensing of limbs arching around you and warmth finding home in the scarce space between your bodies. The rustling of Sky's night shirt against your own as he shifted and shivered (with cold or something else, you didn't know. you never knew) against you.

His muscles eased once more as he finished his stretching, his forehead pressing against your neck with a contented sigh.

And then, a hesitant kiss. Little more than the press of lips against your warm skin.

That. Was new. And it took everything in you not to tense. To not give away your sleepless state even though it was so obvious to everyone but Sky you did not sleep well in his arms (yet, whispered something quiet and despairing in your heart).

Another kiss. Bolder this time as his muscles flexed and he pulled you closer by the waist. And then, he spoke. Quietly. And your heart trembled at the words.

"I can't wait for our wedding day." He breathed dreamily, and you could feel the smile curving around his plush lips as he continued just as softly. "Meeting you has made everything worth it, you know. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you." His breath hitched as he buried his face in your hair (hiding a blush. hiding his growing desire).

"I'm glad Hylia showed me the error of my ways that night. I was moving too slow, as usual." He chuckled self-deprecatingly, and your blood ran cold at the implications (at the realization that began to take form in your mind). "Guess I'll always have to risk losing what's important to me for me to appreciate it properly."

A hand (rough hands. powerful hands. hands that had killed a God) reached over and cradled the side of your face. Turning your head until you were looking up at him (when had you opened your eyes?), meeting his gaze as he hovered over you with a warm, sweet smile (wrong, wrong, wrong). "Don't hide from me anymore, my heart. Don't run."

You could see the fractures sparking bright and vivid in the intense blue of his eyes. Like streaks of lightning swirling great arches towards his pupils. Breaking down at the seams, but overwrought with power so great it was bleeding through.

"I will always follow. No matter where you go." And his smile, twisted, warped, fractured.

"Because in my dreams. I always catch you."

---

Back to the shadows to rest forever.

#linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #linked universe #yandere sky #isekai reader

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