#so for that it's sort of forgiven (but never really forgotten) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

squirmhoney · 3 months

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LIFE'S BETTER ON SATURN |

PART TWO

A/N: Sorry for the warnings but reader has been going through it since the last part. Also I read through this once, it was way too long to read through several times. Enjoy.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Warning: Dark Smut. Fingering. Oral. Pet names. Praise. Overstimulation. Submissive behaviour. Violence. Kidnapping. Drugging. Angst. Suicide attempt. Mentions of depressive thoughts. Non canon ages. 18+ Context: Timeline is based loosely on the "Batman: Under the Redhood" comic. However, characters are aged up. Jason and reader are 18+.

PART ONE HERE

As always Minors DNI.

Some days were better than others but you hadn’t had a truly low day for at least three years now.

People grieve in different ways, that’s what you would say. However, every time you talked to Dick, which was an occasional call every month or so, he’d tell you it wasn’t healthy. You’re latching onto a ghost, I really think you should see a therapist.

You’d always roll your eyes, making up the quickest excuse you could muster up. Normally it was the little money you had, how could you possibly afford therapy while working some shitty receptionist job at the Gotham City’s Police Department.

Bruce would pay for it.

That name still made your whole body tense, bile rising up in your throat. You never had forgiven him, especially after bumping him into last year and being introduced to Tim Drake, clearly his next prodigy.

After threatening to cut contact with Dick as well, he stopped nagging and allowed you to live your life. Even if he didn’t see it as a life worth living.

Today was one of the more sombre days as you walked through the Gotham streets to get to work.

The streets were too busy for comfort as people constantly bumped into you and you knew you shouldn’t have bothered to answer your phone but you hadn’t been thinking when you saw Dick’s name light up your screen.

When a heavy shoulder crashed into yours, your phone had gone flying into the crowd of people. Only to find it crumpled on the floor in pieces within seconds.

Once five o'clock rolled around, you had completely forgotten that Dick had called you this morning and that you had been meaning to call him back. The only thought in your mind was the leftovers you had in the fridge.

When you stepped through your front door, you realised that the winter breeze had made its way through into your shabby one bedroom apartment. You were quick to turn the heating on before running over to close the window you had managed to leave open.

That should have been your first sign.

Unfortunately, out of all Bruce Wayne’s adoptive children, you had always been the last one to catch onto things.

It was only when you reached your bedroom did you realise something wasn’t right. Your drawers were open and were completely emptied. But you tried to not let that alarm you, carrying on with your routine as usual as you walked back into the kitchen.

Your pistol was in the kitchen, you thought to yourself as your feet dragged you there.

In the darkness of your front room you couldn’t see him and you were glad that you hadn’t yet turned on all the lights. You had a chance.

You were slow in opening the drawer next to the sink, trying to make it seem as seamless as possible.

But then you could feel him behind you and you found yourself twisting around, gun aiming for the man in front of you.

You had never seen this man before, the outfit he was wearing too expensive to be some random thug working for someone else.

His attire was all black, military armour, almost how you remembered the other’s suits when you had last seen them. Then there was his mask, a crimson red, attached mechanically to the rest of his suit, some sort of technology you weren’t familiar with.

Bullets were sure to be useless against him. They’d probably end up bouncing off, doing more damage to you than him.

“Don’t come any closer,” you sternly said, trying not to seem as scared as you were.

You were terrified, this man literally towered over you. The way he tilted his head, mocking you as you aimed the gun directly at his head.

“I’m warning you,” your voice was shaky, hands trembling as you clutched onto the pistol.

“I bet you wished you had learnt a bit of self defence,” the robotic voice said, taking a step closer to you.

“I don’t need it.” You eyed him from head to toe, hoping to see a weak point in his armour, anything to help you out.

“You and I both know bullets aren’t going to do anything,” He took a step closer, the gun pressing against his chest.

You were trembling, eyes brimmed with tears as you tried to hold it together. “I won’t go with you,” you spat at him.

“You don’t have a choice,” he closed the distance between you now, gloved hands covering yours.

“We always have a choice,” your voice croaked, a sob lodged at the back of your throat as you flipped the gun, holding it against your chest.

“Y/N,” he demanded, hands moving against yours.

“I won’t go,” you cried out, finger moving over the trigger.

But it was too late, the man had swiftly aimed the gun away from you, the bullet flying into the wall. He pried the gun out of your hand then, throwing it across the room and into the darkness.

You crumbled then, sliding against the cabinets behind you into a heap on the floor.

“Are you crazy?” The man questioned.

He wasn’t as close as he was before you realised and before you knew it, you found yourself scrambling for the door.

But as your hand reached for your door, an arm wrapped around your waist while a cloth was placed over your face. You inhaled what must have been chloroform, leaving you unconscious in seconds.

Death would have been better than this, you thought. Anything but this.

You awoke wrapped in silk sheets, head fuzzy still from the drugs you had inhaled and eyes taking their time to fully open.

It took a little while to remember what had happened, your groggy mind going over the details as you fought to lift your body from the sheets. Once the drugs wore off a bit more, you found yourself scrambling around to find some sort of light source in this dark room, knocking things over in the process.

“There’s a switch to the right side of the bed,” a voice called out from another room.

For a moment you froze, before your hand slid against the wall beside you, finding what you had been looking for.

You blinked at the brightness, taking a moment to adjust before you looked around the room. It wasn’t at all how you expected. Beige walls and duvet set you were draped in to match. An oak bookshelf opposite the bed and a pair of cream bedside tables to either side of you.

It was almost homely and it made you hesitant to move.

“It took you a while to wake up,” the voice was back again, coming closer now. “I thought you’d wake up on the journey at least.”

You didn’t know what to do, searching around the room for something to use as a weapon.

“I was honestly a bit worried about you there.”

He walked into the room still dressed head to toe in that suit of his and you were still defenceless as you sat in the middle of what you imagined was his bed.

“You haven’t been out that long. We’ve only been here ten minutes.”

He didn’t even walk over to you, passing the bed and walking through another door to the side, out of sight.

At the bottom of the bed was an oversized t-shirt and what looked to be a pair of your pyjama shorts laid out.

“Are these clothes supposed to be for me?” You asked, your mind struggling to wrap around what was going on.

“I thought you’d want to change into something a bit more comfortable when you woke up,” his voice was different when he spoke now and you were sure he had taken off his mask.

You wanted to say you almost recognised it.

Your fingers touched the material of the t-shirt that clearly belonged to the stranger, realising there was no harm in changing into it. You were probably feeding into some sort of sick fantasy but if it kept you safe, then you’d play into it.

“Why have you brought me here?” You asked.

“Where did you expect I’d take you?” He retorted.

“A warehouse or something,” you replied.

“You’ve listened to too many of Dick’s stories.”

It hit you then, there was no denying it. You could literally feel your heart thudding in your chest as you turned the corner, reaching to where the man was standing.

You couldn’t even look up, eyes taking in the purple and blue bruises that littered his back and rib cage. His face was ducked down towards the sink, covered by his hands as he seemed to be washing his face.

But you didn’t need to see his face to know who it was.

“Jay.”

You felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs, struggling to breathe as your hand reached out to him. But then you felt yourself stumble backwards, hand clutching at your chest.

“It can’t be,” you said to yourself, eyes closing as you pushed out the thought.

He was dead. He wasn’t coming back.

“No, no, no...” You repeated, gasping for air at this point.

“Y/N,” he pleaded with you and you felt his hand grab yours as he placed it against his chest. “Open your eyes.”

“No,” You cried.

“It’s me, Y/N,” his tone was almost as distraught as yours. “Look at me.”

You did.

He shared the same dark hair and teal eyes as your Jason. The same chiselled features and sharp nose. He’d lost the roundness of his cheeks, completely dropping the baby weight his body used to hold onto. Then there were the bags underneath his beautiful eyes, showing the tiredness that time had done to him.

But it still wasn’t fully registering as you took him in.

“Breathe,” he demanded of you, pressing his free hand against your chest.

You let in harsh breaths, forcing yourself to calm down as you realised it was him.

“Breathe.”

You sat on different ends of his couch, unable to stop staring at each other.

A part of you wanted to touch him, to reassure yourself that the man across from you was Jason. While another part was still trying to register it all.

He explained everything from that terrible night he had never returned home to you, to the Joker beating him to death, then to the lazarus pit. Then there was the time after that, unsure of who he was or where he was, wondering about different countries he couldn’t even name. His memory wasn’t all there for the first two years but it eventually came back, along with you.

“Why didn’t you just take your mask off when you came to my apartment?” You asked, feeling more relaxed now.

“It’s been years,” Jason reminded you. “I didn’t know how you’d react.”

“I think it would have been better than me trying to kill myself,” you told him.

He hummed in agreement at this. “It’s just lucky that you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Lucky for who?” Your voice was teasing.

“For the potential boyfriend,” his lips turned up into a smile at this. “God knows what I would have done to him.”

There was silence between you as you both stared at each other, unable to find the words to say. You didn’t really have anything left to say, no not really. What you really wanted to do was touch him. To feel his skin against yours until your mind became certain that he was real.

It’s as if he knew, hand grabbing your leg to yank you towards him as he said, “Come here.”

Then he was on top of you, arms caging you in as his head rested against yours.

“Touch me,” he wasn’t begging you, he was commanding, a darkness laced in his tone that you had never heard before.

“Where?” You gulped, hands fumbling beside you.

“It’s like you’ve never touched me before,” he chuckled, into your lips.

“Ja-” his name was lost on a kiss, the breath being stolen from your lungs as he took over your senses.

You were eager to kiss him back, hands tugging him further down as they wrapped behind his neck.

There was a sense of urgency between you both, your hands keeping him tied to you while his hands snaked their way under the t-shirt, hissing when he finally got to feel your bare skin. He was quick to strip it from your body, craving to see all the parts of you he had missed so dearly.

His lips were on you in an instance, leaving a wet trail from your neck as he sucked and nibbled all the way down to your chest. He was desperate to leave his mark in shades of purple and red across your skin, finding his chest ease at the sight of you covered in him.

He had been obsessive before but never like this. There was a guttural need to claim you now. To know that you were still his as much as he was yours.

He hadn’t even realised how far down he got, face resting against your lower stomach. But once he realised, there was a different need he had, one that was desperate to please you.

That was when he found himself swiftly wrapping your plush thighs around his shoulders, letting his thoughts take over.

You weren’t sure on how you felt about this, you felt like the pair of you were going too fast. You hadn’t seen each other in five years and in a few hours of being together, you were already wrapped up in each other’s limbs.

Those thoughts were soon buried when you felt his fingers slide against your clothed pussy, wriggling from the unexpected touch.

“Hold still,” he growled at you.

But you felt his words on your core, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin of your thighs, making it harder for you to not move.

“I fucking missed this,” he whispered, nose nudging against your clit. He couldn’t help but take a sniff before licking a long stripe across the material.

It was amusing how squeamish you were, he couldn’t even deny how much it was feeding into his ego. Even years after him being gone you were still wrapped around his finger as much as he was wrapped around yours.

When his fingers finally slid underneath your pyjama shorts, he almost lost it, being instantly met with your soaked lips.

“Tell me I’m the only one that can get you wet like this,” he demanded, sliding one finger across your folds. “Tell me.”

“You’re the only one that gets me wet like this, Jay,” you swore, looking down at him with pleading wet eyes.

“No one better not have touched this pussy.”

His eyes changed at the thought, growing darker, cold as he narrowed them at you.

It almost scared you.

“No one, Jay.”

His face softened at that, fingers sinking into the place you needed him most. You couldn’t help it when you squirmed this time, his thick fingers stretching you out.

He didn’t seem to care though, too focused on how your spongy walls felt around his fingers. Too busy imagining how it would feel around his cock later.

“You’re so tight,” he commented, entranced in the way your walls squeezed him, basically pushing him out. It was all the confirmation he needed, and at the realisation, his body relaxed. Not all the way of course, not when his fingers were being soaked by your cunt.

You whined at him when his fingers slid out of your cunt, craning your neck awkwardly to try and see what he was doing. But he was swift in his movements, ripping your shorts down until you were bare before him.

Without warning his mouth was on you, tongue dragging lazy circles into your clit, moaning at the taste of your juices. But he didn’t stop there, his fingers returning to their original position as they slipped into your walls, curling in and out of you as he turned you into a pathetic mess.

Your mind was reeling at this, not even sure of the noises that were being torn from your throat as his fingers set a brutal pace. All you were sure about was the burning sensation at the bottom of your stomach, growing with each flick of his tongue and push of his fingers.

He lifted himself from you, mouth detached from your cunt as he watched your form, hips bucking up to reach his face. The way he titled his head, eyebrows raising at you, told you he clearly wasn’t impressed.

He showed you how unimpressed he was, the palm of his hands slapping against your clit.

You squealed at the harsh touch, eyes widening at him.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay still,” he reminded you.

“I’m sorry, Jay,” you told him, although you weren’t sure he was listening.

His eyes continued to glare at you, nose flaring ever so slightly as if he was contemplating what he was going to do with you. Then his fingers sped up, pounding themselves inside of you as if trying to see how you would react.

But you were desperate to obey him, grounding your hips into the couch underneath you to keep yourself still.

“Good girl,” Jason cooed, sinking back down again.

He didn’t waste any time, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking at until he could hear your words slurring together as you repeated his name. You were close, he could tell by the way your walls were sucking him in now, thighs squeezing around his head a bit tighter.

“I forgot how good you taste,” he slurped, breathing harshly through his nose.

You think it was his words that sent you over the edge, the sound of his hoarse voice as he lapped at your pussy. You couldn’t even help but tug on his hair when you finally came, your other hand clawing at the couch underneath you.

You were shaking from the orgasm he was giving you, your whole body feeling the spasms of pleasure he was pushing you through. When it finally washed over you, your moaning turns into sobs and you can’t help but struggle for breath again.

Jason was there though, lips pressing against your cheeks and your eyes, hands rubbing up and down your sides as he made you feel safe.

“I’m here,” His voice is reassuring in your ear.

Your eyes flutter open to see his face, chest easing at the sight as you deeply inhale.

“I made a promise, didn’t I?” He asked, reminding you of all those years ago.

You nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he swore once again.

“I need you,” you pleaded with him, hands moving on their own accord as they trailed down his chest. “Really need you, Jay.”

He stopped your hands once they reached his belly button, not giving you the chance to touch him as he shook his head.

You pouted your lips at him. “I want to help you, Jay.”

“Later,” he told you, his hand slipping in his boxers. “I need to be inside you.”

All you could was watch him, eyes wide as you waited for him to release himself from his boxers. You hadn’t forgotten what he looked like but the sight of his cock still took you by surprise when it was out in the open.

You swore he was thicker than you remembered, maybe slightly longer too. He looked painfully hard as he stroked himself, veins popping out along his length and a thick string of pre cum leaking from the tip.

When he finally reached between your thighs, lining himself up with your entrance, you were more than ready for him. It was clear in your shaky breaths as his tip slid across your folds and the way your legs quivered when his tip finally nudged against your entrance.

Jason’s resolve was crumbling more than yours, he knew it was but he was just better at hiding it. But there was no hiding the hiss that left his lips when he finally entered your walls, fighting against the resistance from how tight you were, forcing himself in. He knew it must be painful for you especially when he noticed you were grinding on your teeth to keep it in.

“It’s okay,” you told him, hand cupping his cheek before wrapping behind his neck to pull him down. “I’m okay.”

You both laid like that for a while, his body hovering over yours as you relaxed your body to get used to him. He rocked his hips back and forth a few times, slowly testing the waters and keeping his focus solely on your face to keep some sort of self control. It wasn’t till you were nodding, wrapping your legs around him, did he finally take it further.

Years may have passed since you had been like this with each other but your bodies clearly hadn’t forgotten.

Jason showed you that as his hands wandered and his hips picked up their pace. Instantly they found a home on your chest, squeezing your breasts as they bounced.

Jason found himself entranced with the sight, ducking his head downwards to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. While his mouth sucked against one, tongue licking over the sensitive bud, his fingers teased the other, pinching it gently.

It was muscle memory to Jason and you felt like he was playing you like an instrument, sharply gasping for air at the sensation. You wanted to tell him how good he was making you feel but you weren’t even sure where to begin as the words became scrambled in your mind.

You were sure he knew when he lifted himself from your chest, resting his head against yours and giving you the softest of kisses.

Your walls were finally greedily sucking him in, clinging to him like your life depended on it. You could tell it was affecting him as much as it was affecting you, clenching his jaw after he delivered a particularly harsh thrust.

A certain look came across his face after this, one you had seen before but it was different. His eyes were darker when they looked at you, the pupils completely blown out and there was no amusement laced on his face as his hand dove between your thighs.

You mewled when you felt his forefinger against your clit, hand grasping at his arm at the suddenness of it. It was shock that took over you as you tried to push him away, eventually settling for grasping onto his arm as he quickened his pace.

It was too much, his cock bullying your cunt, making you feel fuller than you ever have before. Then his hands nestled in between you, fingers working on your bundle of nerves as if it was some sort of toy to him. You let out a noise that is unholy, feeling yourself teetering towards that edge again.

But you couldn’t help but try and wriggle free, tears soaking your cheeks at how overstimulated you were feeling.

It clearly didn’t go unnoticed by Jason and with one hand he’s bruising your hips, holding you in place so he can keep going.

“Nuh-uh,” he tutted, fingers digging into your side to get your attention. “Don’t you dare fucking move. Understand?”

You nodded only to whimper pathetically seconds later as you felt your whole body tensing underneath him.

Jason knew what was happening and on queue he slid out of you, letting his hands do all the work. With each harsh rub of his fingers on your clit, you were gushing onto the couch and squirting over his stomach.

He was mesmerised by it but most of all he was mesmerised by your fucked out expression. Eyes sinking into the back of your skull, mouth strung open as you screamed his name. Only his name.

Then he was shoving himself in your walls again, not even giving you a second to recover from your high. Only groaning at the feel of your wet spongy walls enveloping his cock, dripping down onto his balls as they smacked against your skin.

His body was pressed against yours again, the weight of him holding you down so his free hand could move cup the side of your face. You could feel the wetness on his hands as his thumb flicked against your lips.

“Eyes on me,” his voice was low and sultry as it reached your ears, a deep grumble at the back of his throat threatening to spill.

You listened, gazing up at him through the thick tears that spilled from your eyes.

“Good girl,” his toothy grin poked out, rubbing his hand against your cheek in a soothing way. “You’re doing so good for me. Being such a good girl for me.”

You hummed in appreciation, looking up at him with pure desperation.

You didn’t care that your body was spent, tired from the way he was thrusting in and out of his walls. Or even the fact that he was basically using your body at this point, enjoying the way you were writhing beneath him.

You wanted anything he could give you, you wanted all of it. Even if you left you completely numb at the end of the night.

“I love you,” your voice was barely above a whisper and you were unsure if Jason even heard you.

“What did you say?” He questioned, eyes widening and eyebrows raised.

“I-Fuck,” you struggled, finger nails digging into the skin of his bicep as you tried to ground yourself. “I-I love you.”

“Say it again,” he panted, eyes softening suddenly. His pace was still harsh, hips only rutting faster at the confession.

“I love you,” you told him again. “I love you.”

It was all he needed, mind completely reeling as he came inside your walls. He was a mess, riding out his high until he was completely empty. Once he was done, he didn’t even bother to move, keeping himself buried inside your walls.

You couldn’t help but admire him as collapsed on top of you, trying to regain his composure as his head dropped to your chest. He looked beautiful, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin, chest heaving up and down.

Your limbs are tangled, unable to move as you both try to regain your breath. But then he’s lifting his head up to get a better look at you.

“I don’t remember it ever being like that,” he confessed, fingers tickling your sides. “Do you?”

“We were teenagers,” you told him, fingers coming up to graze his head. “We also hadn’t been separated for five years.”

“Is it bad that I want to do it all over again?” He asked, head lifting from your chest as he captured your lips in a bruising kiss.

Your hands pushed against his chest, giving you space to breathe. “I think that Lazarus pit has given you more strength than I can handle.”

He’s grinning against, this one’s almost child-like, reminding you of how he used to be. “I’ll let you rest for a bit before we go again.”

“That sounds perfect, Jay.”

You kissed him again, something that was only meant to be as a peck but instantly turned into something hot and heavy as he nibbled at your bottom lip.

It was you that had to pull away, lips curving up into a knowing smile.

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” Jason groaned, finally lifting himself up, letting you see exactly what he was talking about.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #dc x reader #dc x you #dc smut #dc jason todd #red hood smut #red hood x reader

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piratefishmama · 1 year

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Forgiven Not Forgotten | Part 7

Never let it be said that the Harringtons knew how to go small. They didn’t. The quaint little two bed they’d been living in was always going to be temporary if Steve came home. Even if it was now… technically theirs. It was a nice house, perfect for many a small family, which technically they were.

But they were also… filthy stinking rich.

The Harringtons didn’t really know how to go and stay small. Which is why by the following weekend, Eddie’s release from hospital looming upon them and the two bed house feeling more and more cramped by the day, they already had a cash offer in place on a five bedroom estate in Bloomington.

Five bedrooms, four bathrooms, a finished basement games room, just under eight acres of land, a pool, and an extra little pool house outfitted as a detached bungalow on the property.

The little house they’d lived in… given it was theirs, well. They had no real plans for it yet. Selling it on was a potential, it was too far from the estate to even contemplate handing the keys to one of the families linked to theirs through their children’s shared trauma, although that’d be a nice gesture on their part, the idea of separating their kids after such an ordeal?

Nope. They’d clung to each other. Kept each other alive. They needed each other.

One of the reasons they even chose the bigger property was because “It’s big enough for you all to be there.” That’s what Lynda had told Steve when he’d asked about it. “It’s not going to happen for another couple of weeks, so the house is still going to be a little cramped with everyone in it, but…”

“We have no intentions of separating you from your family, Steven.” John finished for her, nodding over Steve’s shoulder to the multiple sets of eyes watching them. “Like your mother said, what we have now is too cramped, this new place will have plenty of room for everyone.”

“And… what about when their parents turn up?” Because it was a when, not an if. “Just gonna go back to an empty house?” They were operating on when. Nevermind that they’d never seen their parents get out of Hawkins. Nevermind that the only parent they knew for certain was alive and well outside of Joyce and Hopper, was Karen Wheeler, Ted having put himself between his kids and a Demogorgon during the early days and hadn’t come out as the victor. It didn’t matter that they’d seen horrors beyond anything a child should have to witness.

The kids needed to operate on when.

“Then we’ll help them find homes in the area, but until then, the house will be… a home base of sorts. A comfortable starting point for all of you so you’re not too far away from each other, it’ll never be an empty house, Steven. I know it might look like we’re just spending money for the sake of it but… it’s not like that anymore.” They weren’t doing that anymore. They’d found a better way than being away from home all the time. John worked from a home office and delegated important tasks and jobs to others to free up his time, and Lynda decided she wanted to be at home.

They were just glad Steve was allowing them to just decide to be there for him all of a sudden. He didn’t have to.

“…Forgive me if I still doubt that.” No amount of tearful apologies could erase all that history “But thanks, for… for thinking of us. It’s true, we kinda stuck together like glue after Mr Wheeler…” he trailed off. After they’d gotten Karen and Holly out of that house while Ted held back that shaking door, huge, clawed fingers tearing through wood. He still remembered Holly’s screams, still remembered Karen crying, begging them to go back as Nancy and Mike dragged her out, Holly running straight to Steve. “We were never far apart from each other.” It’d be weird without them, unsettling when the dust finally settled. When parents returned to claim their kids.

“And you wont be.” John placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, firm, squeezing it in comforting reassurance. “You won’t be.”

“Aaaand this is your room.” Had it not been for the fact that Eddie had been in a coma for the last god only knows, where he could, with rules, conjure ridiculous shit, he’d have probably assumed he was still out.

He had a room. In what was essentially. A mansion. But he’d never seen it before, so he wasn’t still in his funky little void because he wouldn’t have been able to conjure it.

Only what he’d seen, only places he’d been.

He had his own room. Bigger than his old one at the trailer because of course it was. Currently empty of personal belongings, void of personality, but Steve was holding boxes. Boxes with stuff in them, rolled up tubes of paper, stuff wrapped in newspapers, and he was setting those boxes down one by one inside the room. “…What’s in those?”

“Shit we saved from the trailer, it’s not much but… it’s something.” Eddie silently turned to just. Stare at him. Brows furrowed, confusion so evident Steve had to ask “what?”

“…How long has it been since I died, Steve?” He had to ask again, just to be sure of something, even if it was a weird question to ask.

“Bout two years, why?”

“… And in that time, Hawkins basically ate shit, right?”

“Yup, where’s this going?”

“How’d you save my stuff for that long? Why did you save my stuff for that long? Shit couldn’t have been easy to keep safe, right? So… why?” Steve fell silent, his jaw shifting, lips pursing, visibly going through all the possible reasons he could have saved that stuff, all the reasons why he would have saved that stuff, all the potential excuses, the boy would be terrible at poker.

He settled on shrugging his shoulders.

“Because I did. Because I could. Like I said, it’s not much.” It was so much. Not quantity wise, no… Steve was right there wasn’t much in those boxes, probably why Steve could carry multiple at a time but it meant so much. Steve obviously wasn’t going to go into the why’s or the how’s with him though. He was going to brush them away, without answers. “We saved some mugs, there’s some posters in here, uhh, I got a bunch of your tapes and your deck, I wish I could say I saved your guitars but… I’m sorry man, it was just too risky carting around something that could make noise. I think… they might still be there but—”

“It’s fine, Steve… this—this is way more than I could have asked for.” He could always get a new guitar, eventually. It’d mean saving up somehow, or using some of the hush money that the government had promised him for signing, he was planning on using that to find Wayne though.

It’d been over a week, the hospital had slowly been cleared of survivors, the Sinclair’s were the only parents who’d made it thus far, having been staying with Sue’s sister a few towns over doing the exact same thing as the Harringtons. Waiting. Hoping. Praying for news on their kids, any news. Anything.

They’d taken the Harrington’s offer to stay in the converted pool house with Karen until they could get housing arranged, the kids staying in the main house with everyone else.

“Yeah well… we’ll sort you out a new one eventually. Can’t leave the bard without his instrument, right?” Eddie’s wide eyes were on him again, a beaming smile spreading across his lips, dimpling his cheeks, stretching the scar tissue on his jaw, and Steve had to look away, he had to, because otherwise he just might fall again, and he couldn’t… he couldn’t make that mistake twice.

“Be still my beating heart, was that a D&D reference, Harrington?” He could feel the warmth seeping into his cheeks at the attention, as Eddie leaned in a little closer, got into his space, it’d been so long since someone had paid him any attention. Even if it meant nothing to Eddie, even if he was just being silly, be still his own beating heart.

“Maybe. Now get to unpacking your shit.” He put the last of the boxes down on the bed, purposefully turning away from Eddie to hide his reddening face, to hide what he knew Eddie had never wanted to see. “We’ll be heading out into town in an hour to find us all some new clothes, maybe some new stuff for the rooms too. Hop to it.”

“You’re not gonna help lil ol me unpack? I just got out of hospital!” Eddie called after him as Steve made to leave the room.

“With a clean bill of health! You can manage a few boxes!” And he was gone. Running away. Like a coward.

#PirateWrites #ForgivenNotForgottenFiclet #Steddie #Post!S5 #Mentions of Kas Eddie #Hurt/Comfort #Miscommunication

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pix3lplays · 9 months

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Wife! Reader texting "We're getting divorced, and I'm taking the kids." to HSR men as an April Fool's Joke, but they take it to heart? How do they react and how does reader make it up to them? Again, keep up the stellar work!!

Oh my gosh thank you so much, I absolutely will!

-honkai star rail men when reader texts them: ‘we’re getting divorced and I’m taking the kids’ as an April Fools prank but they take it to heart-

Jing Yuan: You really thought Jing Yuan would get the joke… But no you get Quite the text in response. It’s a long-winded text, him essentially begging to see his kids again, and promising you that he will still financially take care of you and the children if you’ll let him. Oh my gosh you feel so bad…he’s being so serious… “No babe! It’s a joke haha!” you respond, and you watch your phone anxiously waiting for his response. “Oh haha😂😂” he responds, and you can tell he’s still shaken up from your text. You are DETERMINED to make it up to him. You PROMISE him to help him with his paperwork for a Month, and he gladly accepts your apology. Eventually things are smoothed over between the two of you.

Luka: Not Luka responding like:“🥺🥺🥺where are you going??” Oh you feel so bad, he only uses that emoji when he’s Really upset. “No I’m just kidding it’s a joke haha!!” you respond, and he takes a while to respond. “I don’t get it??” Ugh you feel terrible. “Nvm don’t worry about it. Me and the kids are staying right where we are. I promise!” And you promise him that you’re going to watch his next few matches, which lightens his mood immediately, and all is forgiven and forgotten.

Luocha: Luocha surprises you by getting Mad. He’s Mad that you decided to suddenly spring this on him. He’s like “Are you serious right now? After All we’ve been through together you’re just THROWING me away!?” Yeah. He’s MAD. And tbh he kinda deserves to be, what kind of April fool’s prank is that?? You apologize immediately, explaining that it’s just a joke and you didn’t mean it and he’s still so Mad at you. You ask if you can make it up to him over dinner, you paying of course, and thankfully he agrees, his grouchy mood finally disappearing at the end of dinner. He tells you to Not do that again, and you promise. Lesson learned, am I right?

Gepard Landau: poor Geppie, whyyyy would you do that to him?? He’s so scared, he’s texting you like: “what?! Why?! What have I done wrong?! Give me another chance!” And you’re like “No babe I was just kidding, I’m sorry!” Oh he’s so relieved. He did Not find that funny…you have to make it up to him. You give him lots of hugs and kisses when he gets home, which does make him feel a lot better thankfully. And he begs you to never do that again.

Dan Heng: He responds to your text with an: “okay…are you certain you wish to do this? You won’t reconsider?” Oh NO, he thinks you’re serious. You let him know that it was just a joke, and he replies with “I see. I guess I don’t really get it.” Ugh he’s making you feel sooo bad. “Sorry,” you reply. “It’s okay.” he says. But it’s Not OKAY, you SCARED him, you can just Tell. You make it up to him by buying him all sorts of little trinkets you’d think he’d like. And he doesn’t mention the incident again.

Author’s note: oh my gosh that was so fun to write, lemme know if you want any other men added to this!

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail jing yuan x reader #Luka #Luka x reader #hsr Luka x reader #honkai star rail Luka x reader #Luocha #Luocha x reader #hsr Luocha x reader #honkai star rail Luocha x reader #Gepard Landau #Gepard Landau x reader #Hsr Gepard x reader #honkai star rail Gepard x reader

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dalamjisung · 1 year

Text

Matching Set Masterlist

college!AU

popular!jeongin x introvert!reader

summary: Y/N and Jeongin had been together since birth. Seriously since birth– their mothers were best friends and while hanging out to complain about their never ending pregnancy, bam. Rumor has it that Y/N took a little while to cry, blinking around for a couple of minutes until the gentlest of screams came out of her tiny body. Only later, when the parents got together to congratulate each other, did the mothers found out that Jeongin had been born five minutes before Y/N, and it seemed that her quietness had been her own early way to wait for who would later be her best friend. And as if sharing a birthday wasn’t enough, these two had to share everything else; from their lunch at school to the bed they slept on. Thankfully, as next door neighbors, the trip was minimal.

It continued like this for decades to come, through middle school, high school, and finally, college. Their applications were sent together and their letters came in the same day. Miraculously, they chose different degrees, and for an entire night, Y/N cried to her mom about losing her best friend. Maybe this will be a good experience for you two, she laughed, petting her daughter’s head. But Y/N just couldn’t see a positive side to being without her Innie. Later, they would make a pact– one that vowed to always be there for each other. And he looked so earnest and honest that Y/N just couldn’t understand where that nagging doubt tugging on her heart was coming from…

What happens when these two experience freedom like nothing they’ve ever seen? And what will be of the matching set when they are put apart? Can the lifelong friendship survive the ultimate test of time– college?

update schedule: Every Sunday :D

——————————————————————————————

🌚 chapter one: hyung I’m suing you

🌝 chapter two: fellow clowns

🌚 chapter three: what bothers you, my little freeloader?

🌝 chapter four: forgiven but not forgotten

🌚 chapter five: she doesn’t need me anymore

🌝 chapter six: Mandatory Movie Marathon™️

🌚 chapter seven: delayed reactions

🌝 chapter eight: no turning back

🌚 chapter nine: things are about to change

🌝 chapter ten: another case of innie being innie

🌚 chapter eleven: see you then

🌝 chapter twelve: it’s a date

🌚 chapter thirteen: we need to talk about yesterday

🌝 chapter fourteen

🌚 chapter fifteen

🌝 chapter sixteen

——————————————————————————————

hi lovelies! I know I have been a bit gone from the fake text scene, but I’ve been working on this for a bit now, and I am really, really excited to share this new story with you all! Han’s story will be going into HIATUS as I’m trying to sort the overall plot and details and will be reworking it after I get my muse back fro Rhythm & Rhyme. Also: there are timeline plot-holes and for that I apologize! Because it’s been a while since I wrote these, there was a mixup with the timeline of all the following stories, so truly, I am sorry-- I’ll do my best to keep everything together neat and tight! Thank you for your love and constant support!

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO GET TAGGED FOR THE RELEASE OF MATCHING SET PLEASE LET ME KNOW AND I’LL START A TAGLIST!

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princess-of-the-corner · 7 months

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Actually, you know what I want?

I want Chloe to be a full time hero, for the pure purpose of roasting Hawk Moth’s Akuma designs. And I want it to be the most effective way to fight Hawk Moth they’ve found.

Like, Ladybug, Chat Noir, Rena Rouge and Carapace are over here with “We’ll never give in to you, Hawk Moth!”, and “Good will always triumph over evil!”, and then you have Chloe, who’s kind of new to the whole “impassioned heroic declarations”, with her mind blanking out, and the first thing that comes out is:

“So, which bargain bin did you grab that out of?”

And like, it isn’t even close to her best work, she sort of panicked when she realized everyone was giving these big defiant speeches, Chloe is honestly disappointed in herself, but for some reason, Chloe’s words tick Hawk Moth off more than the rest. The Akuma gets distracted because Hawk Moth started going off on her - Gabriel has just gotten back from a fashion week that went very poorly, he’s running on about six hours of sleep, caffeine and spite - and the heroes are able to purify the butterfly while he’s ranting. And Chloe, Chloe who grew up with the Style Queen as her mother, as the daughter of the mayor of Paris, as the bully, the Bad Bitch™, who can find someone’s social weakpoint in ten seconds or less, gets an idea.

Next time they fight, she is ready. She is prepared.

“Ugh, really? He put you in that?”

“Sorry to break it to you, but Evil 1690’s isn’t in this season.”

“Taking inspiration from Mode’s last spring line, are we? You’re lucky he didn’t try to get original.”

“You’re jumping off of buildings, and he has you wearing taffeta!?”

“Well, of course you’re working for Hawk Moth. Only someone that evil would think faux pleather is a good look.”

Like, it is bizarrely effective. Insult his designs enough, and Hawk Moth cannot keep his cool. Chat Noir and Ladybug quickly catch on and the roasts just get more and more vicious (Adrien vents every complaint he has ever had about some of the things he’s had to model. Marinette smack talks the stitchwork - “There isn’t any stitching! THEY’RE MADE OF MAGIC!”, “Would explain why it sucks then.”). Rena isn’t as good at it, but Carapace is surprisingly savage when he wants to be (he has not forgotten, nor forgiven, the Bubbler). Absolutely no one gets why this, of all things, gets under his skin, but it quickly becomes Paris’s biggest meme, that Hawk Moth is the World’s Worst Fashion Designer. Four weeks in and there’s merch. The Ladyblog has a Akuma design ranking system that starts in the negatives and just goes down. A single clip of Juleka - “It was terrifying. I looked like a clown.” - goes viral overnight.

And in his lair, you have Gabriel, hair askew, glasses crooked, furiously designing.

“-just skin-tight suits-”

“Sir?”

“-don’t even have pockets-”

“Sir.”

“-think they’re sooooo smart, I’d like to see Queen Bee try and come up with a costume themed around pigeons-”

“Sir, what- Sir, what are you doing?”

“Teaching the world to appreciate my vision!”

“Mr. Agreste, you’re designing outfits that the brand won’t even be tied to-”

“MY VISION NATALIE!”

AHAHAHAHHAHAHA

They’re going to drive him insane and he DESERVES IT

#submission

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varpusvaras · 3 months

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Leia had loved sleeping in her parents' room.

It was always like a little adventure, like something they weren't really supposed to be doing. Like a secret of some sorts, even though she was never unwelcome to their room either, not really. Sometimes they wanted privacy, but if she truly needed them, Leia knew she was always welcome.

It had exciting, to crawl under the bigger blankets and put her pillow in between theirs, and listen to them talk to each other in low voices as she drifted off.

In the dark, she could see the soft, golden glow on her Mama's chest. It was never too noticeable during the day, with the sunlight being so much brighter, but in the darkness of the night, Leia could see it.

It had felt almost magical, in a sense. Mama never minded if Leia burrowed herself against her, hands splaying across the glow. Leia knew that it was because Mama had gotten hurt, but it had been a long time ago now, and the glow was a reminder that she was alive, that her Mama was alive and was still the Queen despite it all.

Leia's Buir's back also glowed the same, soft gold in the dark. It started as a line from where his neck and the back of his head met, and travelled down, all the way to the small of his back, like his whole spine was made of the glow.

When Leia had touched it, her fingers landing at his neck, her Buir had flinched away.

She had not understood it back then, not the sudden flashes of fear that had felt almost like her own. She had flinched away herself at them, and had spent the night on her Mama's arms, while Papa had taken Buir into his, and they had spoken in hushed tones even as Leia had finally fallen asleep.

She had asked about it, carefully, the next morning.

"Buir got hurt, once", Mama had explained.

"You got too", Leia had said. "You're not afraid when I touch you where it glows."

Mama had looked almost sad, then.

"It's a different thing", she had said. "It's been a long time for me. I've forgotten most of it, no matter how much it hurt back then. It was an accident, after all. But sometimes-"

She had looked Leia in the eyes then as she spoke.

"-sometimes, when you get hurt when someone else hurts you, it's much more difficult to forget. He's a bit sad for scaring you like that last night, so do talk it out with him today, alright?"

"Of course", Leia had said, and then thought what her Mama had just said some more. "Did someone hurt Buir?"

Mama had been quiet for a moment.

"Yes", she had answered, finally. "Don't worry. He is safe now."

For some reason, for a reason Leia could not explain, she thought that her Mama had sounded afraid.

Leia hadn't wanted to believe that she would ever lie to her, so she had not said anything. She had climbed to her Buir's arms, later that day, and he had not felt afraid or sad anymore, so eventually, Leia had almost forgotten all about it.

But not completely, no, and she remembered it all too clearly now.

"No."

"Leia", Buir gave her a look, even though his voice was still level and calm. "Don't be too harsh on Luke. He needed to do it, in order for him to succeed in reaching him. He couldn't have anything weighing on him at that moment. He needed to do it."

"But I don't!" Leia tried to breathe, to calm herself down. "I don't have to do it! Luke can't ask me to do it!"

"I don't think he is truly asking for you to do it", Buir said. "Most likely he is just asking you to see his point of view."

"I do see his point of view", Leia said. "I also wish that he understands my point of view, and understands that I will never forgive him. He is not my father. You and Papa are, and he hurt you."

"He did", Buir said. "How would you feel like, if I told you that I have forgiven him?"

Leia looked at him. It was maybe unfair, to look into his feelings as well, but she was tired and angry, and she was especially tired of people in her life trying to soften their feelings for her sake.

"You don't mean it." She knew she sounded like she was accusing him. "Not completely."

Buir sighed, then shook his head.

"No", he admitted. "Not completely. But I am still walking, am I not? I am alive and standing on my own feet. Is that not what's truly important?"

Leia thought about it for a long moment, before she could be sure of her answer.

"Yes", she said. He was still there, in front of her, as tall and strong as he had always been for her whole life.

"It's a start, then", Buir said, and smiled at her. "For both of us. The last thing I want is for you to be angry for me, for the rest of your life, when I am happy."

It had been a long time since Leia had let herself be just her parents' child again, instead of a Princess, a Rebel, or a General. But now she hugged her Buir back tightly as he held her, and let herself be free of it all, of everything else than what was most important.

#I had the image of both Breha and Fox having the same glow given from the medical treatment they received #but just on the other sides of their bodies #and how differently they would feel about them #it's been over 20 years for Fox now at the end too #he has so many other important things in his life that he doesn't have the time to be angry anymore #not that he has to forgive Vader for it but he is happy with his life #this also got a lot longer again lmao #sw #tcw #my writing #snippets #post order 66 au #Leia Organa #Breha Organa #Commander Fox #Bail Organa #bail/breha/fox #Star Writing

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talistheintrovert · 9 months

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the urge to compare Dangerous Romance to Bad Buddy is strong, because there ARE parallels, but I would argue that those parallels actually do a really good job of highlighting the differences.

On the surface, they're both enemies-to-friends-to-lovers stories, where one half is a loud, brash, emotionally illiterate idiot (who isn't as much of an idiot as he pretends to be) and the other half is a reserved, bitchy, intelligent person who starts pining first and keeps it to himself.

but that's about where the similarities end. Because Kang is not Pat. And I mean that both (affectionate) and (derogatory). Affectionately because Kang is his own person with his own characteristics, he's not just a copy of a different character. And Derogatorily because, well. Kang was a BULLY three episodes ago. Pat could be a dick, sure, Pat picked on Wai, absolutely, but Pat would never bully somebody below him. He picked on Wai because he figured it was fair game. Kang pretty much EXCLUSIVELY picked fights with people lower than him, people he thought as lesser. He exerted power over them. And just because he seems to have stopped doing that now doesn't mean that didn't happen, and it especially doesn't mean that Sailom has forgotten it. Because SAILOM WAS ONE OF HIS VICTIMS.

which brings me to my next point - Sailom is not Pran. Sailom isn't just a rival, he was BULLIED by Kang, and he might have forgiven him for that now that they're friends but he can't *forget it*. You see it in that scene where he flashes back to the bullying when Kang offers him a lift on the back of his bike. That power imbalance plays a large part in making their relationship speed up and then slow right back down in these last few episodes.

But that isn't the only thing holding Sailom back, it's also their complete economic disparity. Kang is wealthy and Sailom is poor and in danger of being hurt because of debts he shouldn't have to be responsible for and every episode goes through great pains to remind not just us but THEM of the massive gap between them. Sailom is hyperaware that he can't think of anything except earning money, he doesn't have the time or energy to waste on somebody who doesn't like him back, so you see him, over and over again, shutting down any feelings he might have for Kang. Unlike Pran, who lets himself pine because it's the only thing he CAN do. Pran doesn't think he has a chance with Pat but he's allowed to love him in private, so he does. He yearns and he cries and he resigns himself to that fate. But Sailom can't even do that. He won't let himself.

People keep saying that Chimon isn't selling their chemistry as much as Perth but honestly I think that's INTENTIONAL. Sailom can't have what he wants and he KNOWS this. He's ALWAYS known this, it's just the reality of his life, and it's obvious in the way he talks. Even when Kang asks him what career he wants, he says engineering, but only a full half-episode later does he reveal that that isn't really true. But it's true to him, it has to be, because it's his only option. So even if he likes Kang he has to tamp it down constantly to avoid falling into the trap of having hope that Kang could ever like him back. He's always making a conscious effort NOT to be too affectionate.

The only times you can see him wearing his emotions on his face are when Kang opens up about something and you can see Sailom forget himself and just sort of LOOK at him, all open and emotional, and then it disappears right after.

gif from this post by @moonjisung because it's too early to find it in the tag lol

Meanwhile Kang doesn't overthink anything like that. So he can be overly affectionate and gaze at Sailom lovingly and not even question it. Because he likes Pimfah!! he's just being goofy with a new guy friend!! it's normal!! he doesn't like Sailom, that would be ridiculous, it's totally normal to be lost in your platonic bro's eyes!! he's obtuse, blind to his own feelings, and that's kind of to his own advantage because he'll continue to flirt without worrying about it. He'll continue to get distracted by Sailom because he hasn't worked out WHY Sailom is so distracting yet.

But Sailom knows exactly how he feels and that's exactly WHY he's always pulling back and not lingering in those moments as much as Kang. It's not that he doesn't have the ability to flirt or the chemistry either - if you think back to the first couple of episodes, Sailom has this flirtatious confidence when he hates Kang that just oozes out of him in every confrontational scene they have.

but he can't have that confidence with something he *actually wants.*

#dangerous romance #dangerous romance the series #kangsailom #kanghansailom #kanghan #sailom #meta

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ghouljams · 17 days

Note

im not super caught up on ur cowboy au (i LOVE goose n ghost, the dynamic of simon being with price's kid who ACTS like she's prices kid tickles my brain so well) and i dont want to come across as rude... but why is bee with konig lmao. ive been reading the recent discourse and if she's a DA survivor, what draws her to him? what could he possibly do to make her forgive and move on from him being such a piece of shit to goose and making such an ass of himself? like, if he calls a woman a whore and a dog because he was butthurt about getting his ass kicked by someone he doesnt respect just bc she's a woman and small, then why would bee think highly of him or even feel SAFE around him? i really don't mean to be rude about this lmao i just wanna pick your brain

as an abuse victim, even after YEARS of 'calm' and 'changes of ways', i would never be able to completely get rid of the lingering fear after seeing something like that. i can't imagine bee wasn't scared of konig in that moment

and as someone from a small town, making an ass of yourself like that will never be forgiven nor forgotten lol. konig will forever be remembered as the lumbering instigator that fucked around and found out, and if bee stayed with him, that reputation would get stuck to her too

again, i dont know bee's character super well (and i support womens rights and wrongs; she can be flawed and choose to look past things other people won't ignore to stay with someone she cares about) but i just wanna know your author thoughts lol these are your boobahs and i like to hear the thoughts. ill have time later today to read through your posts more too, i havent dug into bee's mostly bc i don't care for konig, but if they're all getting interlinked like this id like more context. just a heads up i might come back later and be like "AND ANOTHER THING-" or whatever lol

thank u hugs kisses i like ur cowboy stories :) <3

GREAT QUESTIONS

So I will say that in the overall context of the cowboy au I will be slotting Goose fighting König into the realm of "very dubiously canon" because you're right, there's no way Bee would trust him again after this.

I'm going to attempt to answer all your questions, but please bear with me because I can get long winded.

So to start off I will say that while Bee's backstory has been hinted at, it's never been officially written down. In my mind, the abuse she suffered at the hands of her (now dead) ex husband was mostly mental and emotional, I think if there was physical abuse that was her last straw that she had to get out.

Bee's relationship with König is interesting because I think in her mind, he is a sort of savior figure. He's always been there when she needed him, he never pressured her into anything, he was always kind and respectful, etc. König is big and scary, but he truly has always treated Bee incredibly well, and despite his *ahem* unorthodox methods has always had her best interest at heart. Bee is also VERY recently divorced, and he took EVERYTHING. König has been her rock since she moved to town and she's sort of imprinted on him to a certain extent.

For König... I have talked before about how I think he views women, but I will condense it into how I think he views Goose specifically before/after/during their fight. König has only met Goose once before in written canon and she pulled a gun on him immediately. It's not that Goose is a woman, it's that she is associated with Ghost. That is what I would consider the bottom line in König's thinking. If Goose was just some random woman in town he wouldn't care but she specifically occupies the space of "enemy combatant" because she's with Ghost.

I will say also König already has a reputation as a weird freak in town. People don't really care for him, but now he's also the guy that Goose beat up. So... not great for him. Bee on the other hand is fairly well liked. She's sort of clueless but she's well meaning and generally willing to learn or correct her mistakes. Like I said this fight fic is pretty dubiously canon I don't think it will actually effect the story the way it would irl, but those are Bee/König's standings in town.

As for whether Bee would take König back after watching him go after someone Bee sees as smaller and weaker than him(though König sees Goose as just another enemy to be taken down, women or not)... I don't know. That's why I say this fic is really dubiously canon, because you're right I don't see her taking him back after this. I think this would be the end of it, and I really love the love story I've crafted for the two of them. So it's a big old shrug from me boss. IDK

I think a genuine apology from König to Goose would help a lot. I think König sitting down and explaining his past to Bee would also help. If there was some added context, that it's a long standing beef between himself and Ghost and he made a bad judgement call, then that would be good for getting on the road to healing. Bee would also have to sit down and explain her feelings to König, all in all it would have to be a complete open communication between them, likely with a therapist moderating. But I don't want to write that because I genuinely don't think I would be able to do it justice.

Bee's story is one of my favorites, it's her fairy tale ending, it's her rebuilding her life and finding love despite her trepidation. It's a story of self healing and love, and I don't want to sabotage it with a fight.

#ghoul speaks #if you don't like König I have heard from other König haters that mine is palatable

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bonefall · 11 months

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does fallenleaf ever tell anyone about her time in the tunnels in detail? i can’t imagine she can keep the whole thing secret of course, but how much is she willing to tell, and to who? …does squirrelflight ever know that she’s the first person fallenleaf sees after so long in the tunnels?

I don't think she's AS tight-lipped about it as you'd guess. She has an energy like a war vet; three different versions of the stories depending on her company.

Jayfeather has heard the story before. Broken Shadow, the Kinships, her rise to power... but then, one day, when she's telling it in quieter company... he realizes there are details he's never heard before. The ones who have heard the full, complete story are only Squilf, and Fallen's mate, Cinderheart.

They care very much about her, but telling them didn't help how Fallenleaf feels. No one is capable of fully understanding, or judging her for what she did. She isn't capable of putting into words how horrible she became, or the extent of her tyranny.

The love and care of Broken Shadow, how she fought by her side to the very end as if Holly Leaves was her own daughter. Exploiting the trust of a hundred cats to force a new way of life on them, confused and scared as their home was destroyed around them. "The lake turned to brown sludge" can't capture the fear and the anger, Jay's Wings desperate, helpless struggling under her paws as he drowned in that filthy water.

No one can EVER understand what she did. They accept her back, and forgiving her for, killing Ashfur, and trying to make Leafpool commit suicide, not understanding that it was NOTHING compared to what she was capable of doing. And no one is alive who can MAKE them understand. They've forgiven her for nothing. NOTHING can absolve her. She paid a price for a hundred years, alone, and it's still not enough.

In her darkest moments, she regrets waiting, and not just fading away. They love Hollyleaf. No one truly knows who Fallenleaf is.

She chose the new name because she had forgotten the name that was given to her, in this time. But as it moves forward, she feels that Fallenleaf as a self-imposed Dishonor Title is the most she can do about it. Only she's capable of carrying those memories; and so, maybe that's her punishment. To bear them alone.

She is freed from the tunnels. She loves, and is loved. She breaths, and feels the leaves below her paws, the wind laps at her fur and the lake is crystal-clear. Within her chest is a trapped being, and under her chin is a mate more loyal than she could ever imagine. And yet, she still carries a loneliness with her.

Fallenleaf has come to see that as a sort of justice, if there ever really could be any.

#better bones au #Hollyleaf's Century #Fallenleaf #BB!Hollyleaf #tw suicide

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waytooinvested · 1 month

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Fandom creators tag game

1. What sort of content do you create, and what is the thing you’ve made that you’re most proud of? Mostly I write fanfiction. Sometimes I make little needle felted character dolls. Over all proudest is probably still The Hands I Used to Touch (Call the Midwife), but for my current fandom (Supergirl) it's Forgotten, Not Forgiven, as that is my latest big project and home to all the fluffy supercorp that I need in my life (okay not in the published chapters but IT WILL BE EVENTUALLY I PROMISE)

2. What fandom(s) do you create for? Right now just Supergirl, and I have only written three fics for that one so far (but hopefully more to come!) Before that it was Call the Midwife.

3. What is your current favourite ship (or brotp if you prefer), and how controversial is it? Supercorp, ie Kara/Lena for Supergirl (I know, I’m so quiet about it on this blog you would never have guessed). It occupies an interesting space of being simultaneously entirely non controversial in that it is by far the biggest ship I have ever engaged with, while also being extremely divisive, both within and beyond fandom spaces. But I arrived here LONG after most of that had happened, and am now just happily playing in the sandpit of creative space while the bones of drama stay *mostly* buried. Always a bit of a shock when one rises up to try and kick down your sandcastle though (yes, I am aware that that is a mildly horrifying visual)

4. For your answer to question 3, are they canon? They are not (TECHNICALLY), but there is enough raw material in canon to build The São João Baptista, and that is enough for me. That and the 21,302 (and counting) fics with their relationship tag on AO3.

5. What was your first fandom, and how old were you? The first I actually engaged with other fans over was Call The Midwife in my early 20s, and that was because I snapped after seeing one too many tv lesbians get hit by a car.

6. What is your most unhinged fandom creation to date? Unhinged is not really my brand so I don't really have anything good for this one. Is Kara gets accidentally miniaturized unhinged? Or a bait and switch Lena "villain" arc? I think probably not really to either, but that's the closest I've got for this fandom so far...

7. Do you remember what started you off creating fandom content, and if so, what was it? The aforementioned incident between Delia and a car, which left her with amnesia and taken away to Wales mere moments after she and Patsy had moved in together. But I’m over it. Honest.

8. Do you let people you know in real life see your fandom creations? Not usually, I get shy about it. The exceptions are my wife (but we met via fandom so that one maybe doesn’t count) and on occasion my best friend, who talked me round by being an enthusiastic sweetheart.

9. How do you feel about fanworks of fanworks? Has anyone ever made something based on a thing you made? A few people have made fan art for my fics and it felt like the absolute highest compliment that could be paid to my writing. It was amazing to know that something I wrote meant enough to people to inspire them to go and create their own thing from it, and I loved getting to see other people’s takes on the version of the characters/story I had created. I think it's one of the best things about fandom communities! But I do understand why other people might feel differently about something they have poured so much of themselves into making, so I guess the main thing is trying to be respectful with it, crediting the source, and accepting people's boundaries. Basically I think we should all just be kind to each other and have fun.

10. What feeling do you most often try to evoke with your creations? I'm generally seeking my own catharsis through writing fix-it fic for painful things that happened in canon, so I guess a certain amount of pain followed by the eventual fluffy feel good satisfaction of resolution, but honestly I consider it a win if I can evoke a whole spectrum of emotions along the way.

11. Has someone ever paid your work a compliment (in any form) that has stuck with you, and what was it? Someone once liked my fic so much that she married me about it, so it’s hard to beat that haha. But on a more usual level, people making fanart for my fic was a HUGE one. And also just when people have left particularly in depth comments, commented on every chapter, told me they're rereading or that a fic of mine was their favourite etc... Basically just knowing that something I made has really meant something to someone gives me all of the warm fuzzy feelings, and I am very grateful to each and every person who has taken the time to tell me so!

12. What’s your favourite thing someone else has made that you’ve seen in the last 24 hours (and link it if you can find it again!) Originally I had the bouquet toss ficlet by @fazedlight here, because it just captures the characters so beautifully, but then I left this sitting in my drafts and it is now more than 24 hours ago that I saw it, so I'll add this adorable art by @awaitingrain, because LOOK AT IT! They are so cute??! Also I relate to gentle nomming as a display of affection XD

13. Give a small sneak preview of something you’re working on right now (eg a couple of sentences of fic from a WIP, a gif set theme, a small piece of a larger picture, whatever you feel happy to share) "Lena Luthor was dangling from the side of a cliff, nothing between her and the vast chasm of space below but the small jutting nodule she was clinging to to keep from falling.

How the hell had she ended up here?

Well. She knew how of course.

Kara Danvers was how."

14. Have you ever seen/read anything made by the person who tagged you? If so, what was it and what was your favourite thing about it? (pick a favourite if there are several) SO MANY!! it’s hard to pick a favourite of hers honestly because she is a RIDICULOUSLY good writer, but I’m going to go with The Next Best Thing by @cynicalrainbows. I don’t tend to read many kidfics but this one is the absolute best I have come across, she captures the child perspective fantastically well while also being incredibly engaging and entertaining to an adult reader. It is what successfully pulled me into reading Six fanfic despite (at that point) never having seen the musical. Even if you haven’t either, I wholeheartedly recommend checking it out. Or go and read her new Paperdolls fic and help grow that fandom, which I think currently has all of two people in it!

15. Do you leave comments on fandom works, and if so how would you describe your comment style? I do! I know how much I love it when people do it for me, so I try to leave comments on every chapter of the fics I read (or add tag notes for tumblr art/fic reblogs), and give specifics about what I like about it. Sometimes I just fully liveblog the fic reading experience, which is always fun. I also find it makes you engage and appreciate the work more because you’re taking your time to really think about it, AND it makes an author happy to receive (at least so I hope), which makes me happy.

16. How many works in progress do you currently have? Will you finish them all? Not counting a couple of dump documents of ideas and snippets, technically 3, I guess? One is Forgotten, Not Forgiven (Supergirl) which is my big one and will definitely be finished. The others are less certain – Storybooks and Siren Suits (Call The Midwife) is the one kidfic I have ever written, and is both my longest story at 151,020 (published) words, and also the one I am least likely to finish, because it has been stuck on the same chapter for around 3 years now. The other is Small Problem… (Supergirl) which could be counted as a finished oneshot, but I will probably end up adding further Adventures of Tiny Kara at some point.

17. what’s the longest it’s ever taken you to finish a fandom project?Well, see above re: 3 year stall on new updates. For actually fully finished and published stories I think it was around 6 months.

18. Describe the thing you made most recently in a way that is technically true, but also completely misleading. Link the thing if it’s published! Lena discovers Kara in Lex’s bed, then decides to lure her into friendship under false pretenses. Alex helps her do it. Forgotten, Not Forgiven.

19. Do you ever engage with fanworks for a fandom you’re not in? Which one(s) and how did you get into it? See above re: getting into fanfiction for Six!

20. Recommend a fan work from your fandom to your followers That’s tough because there are so many amazing ones, but I think I will go with I Guess I Live Here Now by @fabulousglitch, because it was both the first fic I really got into for supercorp and also contained everything I wish the characters could have had in canon. I know I am several years late to the party so if you are in the supercorp fandom you have probably already read it, but if you haven’t read it GO READ IT, IT’S SO GOOD!

Suggested tag list, but there are no rules here, follow your heart.

A mutual you have never actually spoken to but think seems cool @nottawriter

The most recent person whose content you engaged with (eg read a fic, reblogged art, whatever form you feel best fits) @sideguitars (and I still owe you a comment on AO3 for that!)

Someone whose content you saw via tags/reblogs and you followed them because of it @sssammich

Someone in your fandom that you think makes cool things @fazedlight

Someone in a different fandom that you think makes cool things @havaamina

Someone you always tag on things like this @cynicalrainbows

Someone you have never tagged before @thatonebirdwrites

Someone you would like to get to know better @thecasualqueer

Someone who makes art you like @pea-green (I don't know if you still do fandom drawing/writing these days, but your commissioned art is still up in my house/in my profile picture and I love it so much)

Someone who writes fics you like @fabulousglitch

#tag game #fanfic writing #fandom creators #I have only been here a couple of months so the number of people I could actually claim to *know* on any level in this fandom is tiny #So if I have tagged you and you have no interest in being tagged in things by random unfamiliar internet strangers #please accept this as the compliment it is intended as and feel free to ignore it!#If you ARE interested in being tagged in things by random internet strangers and decide to play the game #please tag me so I can see your answers!#And if I didn't tag you but you would like to play anyway please feel free to name me as your tagger if you want to :)

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lonelywhalien22 · 1 year

Text

pretty lies - part six

pairing: vernon x reader

rating/genre: smut (fem bodied reader), enemies to lovers, slow burn, ANGSTY fluff, band au

summary: supporting your friend mingyu becomes way more than you ever could have bargained for when you become involved with one of his bandmates

warnings: *smut scene (fem bodied) in reader’s apartment so skip if underage or uncomfortable*, *mention of death/grief*, cussing, vernon has issues in this story but please remember this is a work of fiction, mingyu stans don’t hate me but mingyu and reader are just friends

word count: 5.2k

prev. chapt. | series masterlist | next chapt.

*there are bolded markers to alert you to where the smut scene begins and ends so please use them. the smut scene does not contain any important plot elements*

*smut warnings below the cut*

*smut warnings: penetration, oral (fem receiving), handjob, fingering, grinding, dirty talk but like it's soft, please remember this is a fictional/dramatized depiction of intimacy.

When you finally made it back to your apartment later that evening you let out a deep sigh, plopping against the front door as soon as you closed it.

“What have I done?” you muttered to yourself in the silence.

You took a shower and got ready for bed, trying to take your mind off of things, but all you could think about was Vernon. As your muscles relaxed under the warm, steamy water, the droplets that ran down your skin reminded you of the way his hands had caressed different parts of your body. You thought back to his lips passionately pressed against yours, and suddenly you felt yourself heating up all over again. You dried off, getting dressed when you noticed a familiar blue shirt folded neatly on top of your dresser drawer. It was the shirt Vernon had let you borrow the first night you saw the band perform. You had carefully washed and dried it, but had somehow forgotten to ever give it back to him, and he’d never reminded you after all this time. You still remembered the way he’d looked at you that night when you’d tried to return it. Annoyed, you walked into the kitchen to make yourself some tea but then thought back to that time at Mingyu’s apartment when Vernon had held you in his arms after saving you from falling to the floor.

“Fuck,” you said in frustration. Suddenly every little thing reminded you of him.

Then came the subsequent guilt. Mingyu was your closest friend, and you had to get involved with one of his bandmates of all people? You couldn't help but be sensitive to how he would feel, especially considering how much he was relying on Vernon to help the band succeed. And how would you even go about explaining it to him? Did Vernon even agree that there was something between the two of you that needed explaining? Or had you both just been caught up in the moment?

You thought about Vernon again. There was still a lot you didn’t know about him. He didn’t really seem to open up much, even after all this time, and there was still that whole thing with the notebook. Although you really had forgiven him, you still worried about what exactly he was hiding about himself and his past. Maybe it would be best to end this before it even began…before you got hurt, or worse. You’d known from the beginning that any sort of fallout between the two of you could jeopardize the band’s chemistry and their chances at winning Battle of the Bands - you just hadn’t expected it to be this kind of fallout that you’d be most worried about.

An irregular knock at your door took you out of your thoughts. Alarmed, you softly tip-toed your way to the door, looking through the peephole first to see who it could possibly be this late at night. The sight made your heart race.

“Vernon? What are you doing here?” you said, still in shock as you eased the door open. He stood there in front of you, jacket zipped all the way up and his hands in his pockets, nose tinted red from the cold. A frosty breeze came through the door just then, making you wrap your hands around yourself, only wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt.

“I didn’t have your number, just your address from last time so I…you said we could talk later? About what happened?” he started nervously.

“You came all the way here tonight to talk?” you asked. A silence followed before Vernon roughly raked a hand through his hair.

“Shit, I’m sorry, this was a stupid idea -”

“No, it’s fine. Just…come in,” you said as a shiver ran down your spine. You quickly closed the door behind him, insulating the two of you back inside your warm apartment.

Clearly neither of you had been able to stop thinking about what had happened in the dressing room. Maybe it would be best to get ahead of this and shut it down now before either of you thought about it too much.

“Do you want some tea?” you offered, trying to act as normal as possible.

“Uh…sure, I guess.”

“So I’ve been thinking and maybe we should slow down on this whole thing,” you started out of nowhere, keeping your eyes anywhere but on Vernon. You pulled out two mugs and poured some heated water into each as he slowly followed you into your kitchen.

“Y/n -”

“I mean, it’s probably best not to get distracted with the competition coming up and everything.”

“Y/n,” Vernon said again, this time freezing your movements with a light touch on your arm.

“I thought you said you wanted to talk.”

“Not like this,” he shook his head. “Not if it means you trying to stop whatever this is.”

“And what is this exactly?” you asked, heart surging in your chest.

Vernon bit his lip for a moment before hesitantly leaning down and placing the softest kiss you’d ever felt upon your lips. It was a kiss of tenderness, of care, and it made your heart flutter more than any of those kisses in the dressing room had.

“Vernon…Mingyu’s my friend,” you said quietly.

“Ok. So?” He eased closer to you, fingers playing with yours as the volume of his voice matched your own. “We can’t be together because of Mingyu?”

“You know it’s not that simple. He’s your bandmate. You guys work together all the time. What if - what if we -”

“Stop with the excuses. Just tell me you don’t wanna be with me and I’ll go,” he said stubbornly.

You stood there silently, breathing heavily as he came closer to you, placing his hands on your waist.

“Say it,” he said even softer, distracted as his lips ghosted over your ear before he placed a soft peck where it met your jawline. All you could do was huff in response, his hands curling around your waist just a little more. He bent his head down even lower then, giving you another peck right at the underside of your jaw before quickly following up with a slower kiss to the side of your neck.

“Fuck,” you cursed as your hands reached up, pulling him into a searing kiss. Vernon trapped you back against the kitchen counter, the two of you scrambling to touch some part of the other before he pulled away quickly and once again lifted you to sit on the ledge, smashing his lips back into yours passionately. The kisses were fast but controlled, you following Vernon’s lips as your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair strands as he grunted deeply into your mouth.

smut marker

“Take this off. Please,” you grasped the edge of his jacket.

Vernon shoved it off immediately before his hands came back to you, angling your face up and tilting his head before going back in. The more you felt him against your lips, the more desperate you became. After minutes of this, you couldn’t stand the need you felt for him anymore. Kissing just wasn’t enough.

“Vernon,” you whispered frantically between kisses.

“Yeah.” peck. “What?” peck. He finally stopped to look at you, face still close to yours as he wet his lips slightly.

“Do you maybe wanna -” you began your question hesitantly, fingers trailing over a sliver of skin beneath his shirt. Did he want you the way you wanted him right now? You weren’t sure. Maybe he -

“Tell me what you want” Vernon said, leaning down and pressing lingering kisses to the side of your throat.

“I want…I want…” you gasped a little as he took his time with one particular spot. His lips felt so good on your skin.

“Me too,” he said with an exhale, his hand moving on top of yours to place it more firmly on the skin beneath his shirt, your hand pressing against his lower abdomen fully as you felt warmth radiate through your palm. “I want you so bad right now.”

You guided him back up to your face, finishing with one last kiss to his lips before hopping off the counter and gently enclosing his hand in yours, leading him towards your bedroom.

As you entered the dimly lit room, you turned and guided him in front of you, gently pushing him back to sit at the foot of your bed. His eyes followed you hazily, watching as you went down to straddle him and grabbed his face in your hands, kissing him deeply again. This kiss was hungrier than the other ones, your pent up frustration coming out in full force now that you had him like this all to yourself. You could feel his breathing quicken underneath you, a deep moan rumbling from his chest, hands coming up to grasp at your waist and pushing up your shirt slightly in the process. The contrast of his warm palms mixed with the coolness of the rings on his fingers seared into your skin like a memory. Finally you began to move a bit, winding your hips down against his lazily, a pressure rising between your legs as he whispered a curse against your lips. You broke away from him for a moment, looking up at your ceiling as you focused on the growing heat in your core, sighing contentedly as Vernon began helping to push you down against his length, over and over again. With how thin your pajama pants were you could feel everything, face scrunching up as you let out a little moan of pleasure.

“You look so hot right now. Fuck. Can I?” Vernon asked timidly, raising his hands to push up your shirt ever so slightly.

“Yes. Please,” you responded in a hushed tone. He promptly began sliding his hands up along your sides, body lighting up all over as your shirt rose up against his hands, slowly revealing more and more of your bare chest. He gently pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the floor, the two of you laughing at each other lightly as he tried to smooth out your hair.

“What?” you asked shyly when Vernon became quiet, looking straight into your eyes.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He leaned in and kissed you again before you could respond, and you closed your eyes, feeling one of his hands settling on your waist as the other rose to rest against your upper back, making your spine tingle in the process. Vernon moved back again, getting ready to take off his own shirt, but you stopped him with your hands.

“Let me,” you offered, slowly undoing the buttons of his silk shirt, pressing kisses to his chest lightly as you went, feeling his pulse between your lips. You couldn’t believe you got to have him this close, like this. It felt surreal the way he responded to your touch - the way he responded to you. Once his shirt was finally off, you pressed both your palms against his upper chest and he got the message, falling back onto your mattress as you slowly leaned down, the two of you kissing again messily as you felt his palms sliding all over your back, chests colliding.

Eventually you became impatient again, backing up as your hands reached for his pants.

“Is this ok? Can I touch you?” you asked.

“Fuck, yes,” Vernon nearly panted out as you reached for some lube in your nightstand drawer.

You hurriedly began undoing his pants, not even pulling them all the way down before you quickly reached inside to grab his length with your now wet hand and began to rub him slowly. Vernon let out a loud moan.

“Is this good?” you whispered.

“Fuck - yeah,” was all he could manage.

You started speeding up, tightening your grip just slightly with a little smile on your face. Desperate noises began to fill your ears like a melody as you continued to stroke him up and down greedily. You would’ve happily had him just like this, his unrestrained expressions only exacerbating your own spark.

“Shit, wait - don’t I get a turn?” Vernon asked gruffly, not wanting things to end so quickly. You let him move on top of you, easing you back into the bed. He mimicked you, kissing all over your chest, paying extra attention to your nipples as he enveloped them with his lips. Tiny noises and whimpers left your mouth sporadically as your arousal increased, his attention to your body putting you in a spell.

“So this is how you like it, huh?” he asked as he moved further down your chest.

“Yeah,” you responded breathlessly, eyes closing as you felt his kisses light up little spots all over your abdomen.

Vernon’s hands began trailing over the drawstring of your flimsy pajama pants.

“Take them off,” you instructed.

He followed, easily sliding off the pants, hands beginning to rub along your thighs slowly.

“Tell me where you want me to touch you,” Vernon asked deeply, thumb creeping up to rest along your inner thigh as he spread your legs open wide.

“Higher,” you voice came out in a near whine to your embarrassment.

“Here?” he suggested, not teasing you for long at all as his thumb finally went up to press against your core, the fabric of your underwear already soaked as your body immediately responded to his touch, pushing into his hand. You let out a barely audible noise, nodding your head quickly.

“Yes, yeah, just a little higher - please - right there,” you begged.

Vernon began gently circling with his thumb, leaning down to pepper kisses against your inner thigh as your body began to respond, soft moans leaving your lips. You hated how responsive you were to him already, but you couldn’t help it. You’d wanted him ever since you’d first seen him earlier this evening, and maybe even before that. It felt like so many things had lead up to you finally feeling him against you in your bed like this, and now that you’d gotten a taste you couldn’t hold yourself back if you tried. You’d take it any way you could have it, underwear be damned.

Vernon seemed to think otherwise though, slowing his movements before dragging his thumb firmly down the center of your underwear. You bit your lip in anticipation.

“I really wanna take these off you right now,” he said. You could practically feel his breath inside of you down there and it was driving you crazy.

“Then do it,” you said impatiently.

He didn’t waste any time, pulling your underwear off before he replaced his thumb with his mouth, tongue slowly licking up at your nub over and over again.

“Oh fuck,” you cried out, hand running through your own hair strands as you desperately looked for something to hold on to. His tongue made you feel as if you were levitating off the bed, waves of pleasure rolling through your body. Vernon then began to insert a finger inside of you, looking up at you with hooded eyes as he did so. You could only look at him for a second before you had to shut your eyes in overwhelm, his heated gaze bringing you there too fast. One of your hands went to grasp at the back of his hair helplessly as the pleasure grew.

“I’m gonna -”

But he edged you to a stop, removing his finger as you practically whined aloud.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Vernon placed a lingering kiss against your thigh apologetically. You weren’t sure how sorry he really was though, when you saw the cocky glint in his eyes. “I just wanted to ask if I could feel you around me when you…” he said the last part a little shyly.

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly. “I’ve got some condoms in my nightstand drawer.” Vernon quickly grabbed one and ripped the packet open, rolling the covering around his length as you watched in a daze. Then he gently climbed back on top of you. Though all of this happened in a matter of seconds, it felt like it took forever.

He lifted himself up over you, forearms trapping you on either side as he slowly leaned in, his length pressing against you but not yet entering you.

“Tell me you want me again,” Vernon asked you softly, one finger gently brushing the edges of your hair out of your face as he looked down at you, other hand back to circling your nub slowly.

“I want you. Need you. Please, Vernon,” you begged tearfully. That was all it took for him to slowly ease inside of you, the two of your voices blending together aloud at the feeling. You didn’t think you’d ever felt so emotional at the feeling of anyone inside you before, not used to so many words being exchanged during the deed. He waited for your approval before he started thrusting lazily into you, working you back up all over again. The two of you continued like this for awhile, soaking up the feeling of being intertwined with one another.

“Does it feel good?” he asked as if he didn’t already know, panting against your skin as you began clenching around him sporadically, his finger starting to move faster against your sensitive nerves as the resulting moistness made his movements feel even more fluid inside and out. You felt his other hand interlock with yours, the chain on his wrist cool against your veins as he held your hand in place on the bed.

“Fuck. Yeah,” you whimpered, fingers reaching for the hair at the back of his head, grasping softly and pulling him closer towards you. “Please don’t stop,” you nearly cried out, urging him on one last time, heart beating rapidly out of your chest as he kept up his circling, movements becoming even tighter and more focused until you couldn’t take it anymore and you snapped.

You jerked up suddenly, writhing and insides clenching hard as various sounds left your lips uncontrollably. Vernon just kept moving his thumb in those tight, focused circles, watching you in awe. You finished with a silent sob, holding on to him tightly as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

“Fuck,” Vernon finally whispered with a high pitch, your climax turning him on even more as his head fell into your chest and his hand reached for your waist to hold you in place. He sped up his thrusts sloppily in response, desperate until he followed with his own release shortly after yours, your insides clenching involuntarily one last time as you felt the force of his load, even with the latex barrier.

end of smut marker

The two of you laid on top of each other for a few minutes, catching your breath until Vernon slowly lifted himself up. He did so reluctantly, leaving a quick kiss on your cheek that made you want to pull him back towards you as he eased himself out of your bed.

“Where’s your bathroom?” Vernon asked quietly, as if to not disturb you. “Just wanna clean up real quick.”

You mustered just enough energy to point him to an adjacent door, and he walked off, quickly disposing of the condom and using the bathroom before he came back with some tissues, offering them to you.

“Did you need…?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you said, grabbing them and gently patting yourself off. You got up then to make your own trip to the bathroom, grabbing a t-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear from your drawer before heading off. Once you had changed and felt a little more refreshed, you went back into your bedroom, finding Vernon sitting at the edge of the bed, his boxers and shirt back on but still unbuttoned as he looked back towards you.

“Would you maybe wanna stay the night?” you asked hopefully. You waited with bated breath for his response.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “If that’s ok.”

If it was any consolation, he looked just as nervous as you had until he heard your offer. Somehow the two of you were both shy again despite your actions just minutes ago.

You crawled back into your bed, body dipping under the sheets as you laid back, reaching out to him as he followed, the two of you curling into each other rather easily. You placed your head on his chest and his arm came up to rub against your back soothingly.

As you two laid in the quiet darkness of your room a million thoughts flew through your mind. Somehow you had gone from trying to shut this thing down with Vernon to fucking him in your apartment. And it had been good. Really good. And now you had to figure out what exactly this all meant. You weren’t sure how you were gonna keep this a secret now. It didn’t even feel right to keep it secret.

“Was it ok?” Vernon’s question punctured your line of thought.

Shit, he probably thought he’d done something wrong with how quiet you were being.

“Better than ok. It was amazing,” you praised, giving him a lengthy kiss on the lips before rubbing your hand across his chest as he bashfully looked away from you. “Was it good for you?” you asked worriedly.

“Of course,” Vernon laughed softly, as if it was obvious. You were relieved he didn’t seem to be upset.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little lost in thought,” you let out a sigh.

“I won’t say anything. If you don’t want Mingyu to know,” Vernon offered after a few beats.

“It’s not that I don’t want him to ever know…just…maybe we can explore this on our own first and wait to share it until after Battle of the Bands. That competition means so much to him - to all of you - and I don’t want to distract from that.”

“Ok,” Vernon agreed softly, holding on tighter to you.

—————

You woke up on your own the next morning, the foreign feeling of another warm body wrapped around yours coaxing your eyes open as bright light came in from your windows. You stretched your body out a little, Vernon’s arm still hanging loosely around you as you let out a soft yawn. You leaned over to your nightstand just to take a peek at your phone. It was already a little past eleven, but you couldn’t really be bothered to care - not when it felt so damn good to have him in your bed.

You finally turned to look at Vernon. He was still asleep, head tossed sideways into one of your pillows, hair turned every which way. He looked so incredibly peaceful - more so than you’d ever seen him while he was awake, eyes usually filled with an inner turmoil. You selfishly wished this moment could last forever - that you could have him like this in your bed everyday, that you could be the one to bring out this side of him all the time.

You quietly inched your way out of the bed, careful not to disturb him as you gently lifted his arm from around you. You left your bedroom, picking up articles of discarded clothing from the floor as you went. As you lifted up Vernon’s jacket in the living area and began straightening it out you stopped suddenly, feeling a thickness in one of the pockets. It was his journal. The same one you’d seen him with in the dressing room, and the same one that had sparked your first tumultuous encounter. You looked at the worn cover for a few seconds before finally putting it back in the pocket, laying his folded jacket with the rest of his things in the bedroom.

Making your way towards the kitchen, you emptied the two mugs full of lukewarm water that had been long forgotten on your kitchen counter from last night before heating up some new liquid, deciding to make some tea to warm yourself up.

When you came back to your bedroom, a warm mug in each hand, you were a bit startled to see Vernon look up at you, his back straight against the headboard as he sat up in your bed. He held the notebook in his hands, having seemingly recovered it from his things.

“Vernon. Hey,” you said softly, doing your best to not look down at his hands as you made your way to your nightstand, setting one of the mugs down before you turned to him.

“I thought maybe you’d like something to drink? I made some tea.” You settled into your bed sheets again, offering him the mug.

“Thanks,” Vernon said simply, his voice still rough from sleeping. He took a light sip to test the temperature before setting the cup on the table by his side.

You weren’t sure what else to say then. Should I mention the book? Probably not, right? You thought to yourself.

“Do you have a pen or a pencil I could borrow?”

You looked at Vernon with wide eyes as if he was speaking to you in a foreign language.

“Oh, uh - yeah, sure. Lemme just -” you scrambled to find one in your nightstand drawer, handing it over to him gently.

You sat there awkwardly for a moment as Vernon ran a hand through his hair before scratching at his face a little, seemingly lost in thought. He then opened the book to a specific page and promptly began jotting something down.

Assuming he’d want some privacy, you got back up abruptly.

“I’ll just go take a shower and -”

“What about your tea?” Vernon asked with a little confused pout on his face.

“Oh. Right.” You still continued making your way to the bathroom door on his side of the bed while you thought of some excuse. “I’ll just let it cool off some while I -”

But Vernon touched your wrist lightly, stopping you from leaving.

“You can stay…I want you to stay.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and all you could let out was a soft, “Ok”.

He scooted over, leaving just enough space as he motioned for you to sit on his side of the bed. He pulled the covers back over the two of you, his left hand wrapping around you snuggly to pull you closer while his notebook was propped on his other leg. Vernon wordlessly continued to scribble notes with his free hand while you tucked your head into his chest, trying to give him some semblance of privacy as you breathed him in deeply and gently closed your eyes in a sweet reverie. You could have fallen asleep again just like this, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath, his heartbeat pressed against your cheek. Once again you let yourself imagine how this could be the two of you all the time, and the tiniest of smiles crept upon your face.

“Can I show you something?” Vernon said in an almost whisper, his chest rumbling against your body as he spoke.

“Of course,” you responded easily, eyes opening once again. “What is it?”

He wordlessly brought the notebook closer to you, holding open the page he was working on for you to view.

“I write ideas for songs in here,” he explained. “Lyrics, quotes, whatever comes to mind. Do any of these stand out to you?”

You looked up at him, asking with your eyes if he was sure, and after he gave you a nod, you took a long awaited look into the pages of his journal.

Scrawled all over the sheets inside were strings of words, tied together to form all kinds of short phrases. You thought each of them was fascinating, but at the same time you were unable to truly interpret any of them. It was like you were staring at an encrypted file, but didn’t have the key to actually understand what it all meant to him.

Though there was one line in particular that caught your attention.

“‘Innocent eyes with a smile so bright’ - I like that. Who’s it about?” you tried asking, looking up at him curiously, but you became a bit mesmerized, seeing his eyes so up close in the light. You could even point out flecks of hazel in his irises, the sunshine giving them the color of warm honey. Vernon only smiled softly at you in response, leaving a short kiss to your temple.

“No one yet,” he responded cryptically.

You shrugged, just happy to be getting a glimpse into a piece of his world - a piece of his heart.

“Tell me about the song from last night then,” you asked, fingers tracing shapes on his chest. “What was that one about?” You couldn’t help but think back to how you’d found him in that dressing room, clearly upset.

You could practically feel the tension in Vernon’s body against your own then, and he took a deep breath, pausing as his hold on you tightened a bit.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you followed up.

“No, it’s ok…I had this friend. We grew up together, basically like brothers,” he started. “He was actually the one who encouraged me to pursue music - used to always tell me I was gonna make it big,” Vernon chuckled softly before continuing with another deep breath.

As you watched his demeanor change your mind went back to the night he’d given you a ride from the bar:

“So how long have you been riding anyways?”

“For years. The extra helmet I gave you was actually a gift…” Vernon trailed off, looking at some point in the distance.

“From a friend?”

“I don’t have any friends. It’s from someone who isn’t here anymore.”

Back in the present, you braced yourself for what you were about to hear.

“We had finally finished school and he was driving back late from this graduation party when he got into an accident and he…he died…” Vernon struggled to finish the words, looking down, and all you could do in that moment was hold on even tighter to him, a pained expression on your face.

“Vernon, I’m so sorry.”

He only nodded silently in response, looking away from you for a moment.

“The song Visions was for him. I wrote it to remember him but I’d never actually performed it before until last night.”

You watched as his thumb ran over a corner of the open page of the book.

“It was the first thing I wrote in here, when nothing else would help, and ever since then I haven’t stopped. Every thought, every feeling…every song idea I’ve ever had is in this book.”

He stopped for a moment, and you just let the silence in, trying to hold space for what he was sharing with you.

“My family never approved of me pursuing music, you know?” Vernon said regretfully after a few beats. “So it’s really just me on my own. Me and this book. Has been ever since the accident.”

“Well you’re not alone anymore,” you said gently. “You’ve got the band. And me. I’m not going anywhere, promise.”

“I’m sorry, again. About the night we met,” Vernon apologized, rubbing up and down your side with the hand that was holding you against him.

“I didn’t know how much this book meant to you then.”

“That still doesn’t make it right - there’s no way you could have known all that. And I’m still sorry.”

You kissed his chest lightly before closing your eyes and tucking your head back into his body in silence, holding him close as the two of you eventually fell back to sleep in each others arms.

When you woke up again an hour later it was to the sound of an alert on your phone:

Mingyu: Car’s fixed! =D

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#vernon fluff #vernon smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen #vernon x reader

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piratefishmama · 1 year

Text

Forgiven not Forgotten | Part 6

Matchmaking would unfortunately have to wait. As much as the parents wanted to dive right in, meddle a little, be insufferable, it was well overdue after all, there were more pressing concerns. Eddie was awake. He was awake, coherent, sure he’d been initially a little loopy loo on the drugs, but he was able to answer questions, simple questions. Sort of.

“What year is it?”

“I mean, I thought it was 1986 but I seem to be missing a couple of years so, pretty sure it’s 1988 now. So much for graduating.”

“Who’s the president?”

“Man I dunno, how would I know? I just told you I’m missing a couple of years. Reagan? Is it still Reagan?”

“It’s still Reagan, Eds, election isn’t for another few months.”

“Thanks, Stevie.” Eddie turned back to the doctor “Reagan then.”

“Don’t help the patient, Mr Harrington.” Steve mouthed a sorry but didn’t actually look sorry. Eddie just smiled at him. A conspiratorial little grin shared between them, like an inside joke they’d never had the moment to create. It continued on like that for a good half an hour, boring step by step questions to ascertain just how much of Eddie’s memory was simply not there.

It turned out, he remembered nothing from after he took his seemingly last breath, to waking up in that room. Or at least that was what he was sticking to. Until the doctors left and everyone decided to leave Steve on his own in that room with him. The Harringtons gently guiding Dustin out as well, offering to get him something from the vending machines as their sandwiches had been distributed already to those sitting in with Max, Will, and Eleven via Robin.

Stinson had already collected the documents and was likely off to do whatever she had to do to fulfil her promises.

“I do remember some stuff.” Eddie finally broke the silence that seemed to fall over them the second everyone left the room. Steve’s eyes shot to him, wide, fearful? Why was he afraid? He held up a hand quickly, then got up out of his chair. Eddie watched in confused silence as Steve rummaged around the room, checking around things, the flowers people had left, the plant in the corner of the room, the TV that hadn’t been turned on, each of the little machines, he even checked the lights, and only when apparently satisfied, his search coming up empty-handed, did he finally turn back to Eddie.

“What do you remember, Eddie?”

“Nothing out here I guess.” He wasn’t going to ask why Steve ransacked the room, it didn’t really matter. “The real world I mean. It was like… a void. This big, dark space. It felt like I was stuck in limbo, but I could like… make stuff appear if I thought about it hard enough.” Steve’s continued silence only prompted him to talk more “like—like my bedroom back at the trailer? I could make that appear, everything in it, crystal clear, I could use stuff in it like my guitar, or my yo-yo! I could make the picnic table behind the school appear, I could even make Red’s living room appear if I thought about it hard enough… it was like… like I was stuck in my own brain or something, it was only places I’d been too. Time didn’t really… move there, y’know? I thought I’d only been gone a few days.”

Steve was looking down at the floor, brows furrowed, eyes flicking as if searching for answers in his own mind, working through theory after theory in silence. “Was it just you in there?”

“Mhm yeah, I mean… sorta. I think so. I mean, the mirror in my room always freaked me out a little bit but… I dunno, it was me just—”

“Not you.”

“Yeah. How’d you—"

“Don’t talk about this. At all, with anyone else. Okay? Nobody else. Not even the kids. This cannot leave this room, alright?” Eddie’s eyes flicked to the door, before he nodded “you stick to your story, you don’t remember anything. Nothing. You got ate, you woke up here. Nothing in between. Not the void. Nothing. That’s the story you stick to. Got it?”

“…Steve… what happened?” Steve sat back down beside his bed.

“Nothing good, nothing good happened these past two years okay? But as long as you don’t remember, and with what we know, I don’t think there’s anything out there that could jog that memory, you’ll be fine.” Eddie let his eyes drop to his lap, fingers fiddling with the blankets, full of nervous, uncertain energy. He was missing something. He was missing a lot of somethings, but Steve was right. It wasn’t like there was a fog in his mind where memories should have been, he remembered dying, the void, and then waking up. Nothing was missing there. He didn’t even feel like he was missing something. “I’m not going to tell you what happened, Eddie so don’t ask. There are things that you don’t need to know, things that you wouldn’t want to know. Just be grateful that you don’t remember them, and that you’re here, alright?”

“…I still don’t know how I’m here.”

“You don’t need to, just… be glad you are. We all are.”

“…All of you?”

“All of us, Munson.”

They fell into silence again, not uncomfortable, Steve seemed content where he was, a little troubled maybe, there were lines on his face that weren’t there before, stress and worry having etched permanent lines into his skin the past two years, but he was content. “Steve I—”

The door bursting open cut off anything Eddie would have said, he wasn’t even sure what he was going to say, he didn't have a plan but Steve was staying so he had to say something even if it would have been dumb... so he was sort of glad it happened.

He was glad Robin burst in and immediately took to reaching for the TV with a “you have to see this shit.” As her explanation as a news channel, the screen split between two women quickly came into view. one in a news studio, one backed by a horrorscape the people in the room unfortunately recognised.

“—he closest we’ve been allowed to get to Hawkins Indiana in the last two years, after a 7.4 magnitude earthquake rocked this quaint town 80 miles outside of Indianapolis. This town, once struck by tragedy, after tragedy, now lays desolate, a wasteland, and although the government remains tight lipped as to the exact cause of the decay which has steadily overcome this town for the last two years, government operatives who have been slowly picking through the wreckage of this disaster looking for more survivors, have assured us that it is a contained and isolated incident.”

“And this decay… I’m sure towns nearby will be worried, it can’t spread further, right?” The anchor prompted.

“No Judy, we have been assured that, while it remains classified, the cause has been located, and destroyed by a combined herculean effort from both civilian, and government forces.”

“Is there any further information on the murders that took place just before this disaster struck? If you recall some were claiming these disasters were tied to satanism and caused by ritualistic sacrifices at work?”

“Unfortunately the losses sustained in this catastrophe include the majority of the police force investigating this heinous crime, however our sources have revealed the true identity of the perpetrator, to be none other than a Mr Henry Creel, brought to justice by the very man he framed for the murders of Chrissy Cunningham, Patrick McKinney, Fredrick Benson, and the attempted murder of Maxine Mayfield. Eyewitnesses have come forward to reveal Edward Munson was seen alongside several other civilians who will remain nameless, heroically subduing the man in his attempt to flee a second thankfully unsuccessful attempt on miss Mayfields life. His reign of terror over this small town, finally ended by the very people he tormented.”

“I have here that Henry Creel was presumed deceased several years ago, is that correct?”

It was so scripted, everything about it, nothing felt real but… they were at least pinning it on the actual guilty party.

Creel’s human face revealed on screen in between the two video feeds, a blurry ID photo with no discernible origin used as the picture. It disappeared again shortly after, the two feeds growing larger once more to fill the split screen.

“Yes. Perhaps that is what gave him the freedom to enact this terrible crime without suspicion. He was being held in a private psychiatric facility which cares for mentally traumatised youths, pronounced deceased to protect him from association with his father, Victor Creel. He escaped spring of '86 under the name Peter Ballard, and immediately took to live up to his fathers’ terrible legacy.”

“And what can you tell us about the survivors of this catastrophe?”

“Once a population of just under 15,000, survivors have been spread across just four hospitals in Roane County. The death toll…” the reporter appeared to breathe, she looked down for a moment, clearly emotional “unfathomable. This will surely go down in history as one of the worst natural disasters The United States has ever experienced.”

“Thank you, Harriet.” The second feed was cut, the anchor taking up the entirety of the screen once more. “Government officials have stated that the names and current locations of identified survivors will be made available at this free to call automated line.” A number flashed up on the screen. It stayed there for just long enough to write it down “it will be shown over the course of the following weeks until all survivors are claimed by family or friends.”

The camera switched to another anchor, a man. “In lighter news, Washin—” Robin turned off the TV. Screw lighter news.

Steve stared at the now blank screen, mouth hanging open, “Did they just—”

“Pin the blame on the actual guy who did it while giving Eddie the credit for taking his ass down? Haha, yeah. Stinson didn’t fuck around.”

“Holy shit. That was like, an hour. Maximum.”

“Stinson, didn’t fuck around. Also your parents have been calling estate agents in Bloomington.”

“Huh?”

Eddie needed a nap.

Part 8

#PirateWrites #ForgivenNotForgottenFiclet #Steddie #Post!S5 #Mentions of Kas Eddie #Hurt/Comfort #Miscommunication

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