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#so i didn't really go back and re-read what i wrote
insulationsun · 9 months
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What if Anne, Steven, and Kris met?
that would be absolutely nuts i should draw that.
in all seriousness theyre such a strange combo, i think anne and steven would become pretty fast friends. at least, depending on what age they meet. im gona set kris aside for now since theres no timeskip for them currently.
but like, 13 year old anne is a very different person- she's kind of flippant? doesnt take things very seriously, and hates responsibility. but she's also very social, and quickly connects with people even if she doesnt realize it. i do think they would get along, at least superficially. (her and 13 year old steven)
but steven is sort of the opposite- at least in that he feels he is responsible for a lot of things he really shouldn't be. in the beginning of the show he's sorta like anne in not taking things seriously- but he leans into that responbility a bit too much; meanwhile, anne sort of lets it fall to the wayside until she can't ignore it anymore. he's also a lot more open about his feelings, which 13 year old anne pushes down to a fault. i think that friendship would be good for the both of them, as steven would probably be very obviously hurt by something she's done, and also be very emotionally vulnerable in a way that surprises her. probably makes her want to be able to do the same thing.
i also think he'd help her like, learn how to be a good friend? steven has really good ideas about companionship in the beginning of su, sworn to the sword is a good episode to point to. there's emphasis in being a team, and doing things together. making each other happy. think there's value in that. and in turn, i think anne could help steven sort of understand being human more? since she attends school, and talks to a lot of people. anne knows a thing or two about interacting with others which would be a great help.
kris wouldnt really fit into this dynamic as well, considering theyre like in high school? (i know some people hc kris as being 14- i am not one of them, they seem a bit more mature than that but thats just me!) but being a sort of weird sibling to them both would be fun. i really don't think kris knows how to take care of other people, especially ones younger than them. they're sort of like an awkward silent buffer inbetween them, occasionally breaking up spats or silly arguments? anne would probably be annoyed or amused at how weird they are, while steven would kind of think they're cool and stoic? that's all i got on that though.
ok here is where we get crazy. under the cut because i've talked too long. warning for tangents.
ok so. timeskip versions. sort of. im not doing adult anne here, but i'm being a bit speculative of her high school years. this would probably put kris as the youngest, depending on how you headcanon them. (personally i hc them as 16, so same age as steven- so i'll just be using that age.)
so kris is not very good with people. good thing steven isn't either! or even anne a bit! (though, i think anne is the best at social interaction out of these three.) but each of them have gone through some sort of experience that sort of shaped them? in this way, it is difficult to sort of jump back into normalcy when you've traumatized or affected in such a big way. and though deltarune isn't finished, there are circumstances which are going to change or shape kris in new ways.
i think there would be hesitance in their interactions, nervousness which doesn't fully make sense to them. though it is something kris has sorta dealt with even before the events of deltarune, so i think they're more than used to having one-sided, awkward interactions with others. i actually think the other two would sort of follow their lead here- despite them being selectively mute. kris would initiate topics of conversation simply by being curious, or off-putting. (for example, maybe they stare a little too long, prompting someone like steven if they are okay.)
just little things like that. it would be painfully awkward.
especially as i think anne and steven are both characters that don't particularly like dealing with silence, or stilted conversation. and they would latch onto anything to talk about, no matter how trivial. so it's sort of like that! and kris can be content with sitting by and letting the conversation play out.
but i also think kris is sometimes not content with that- i think their dark world form is sort of a manifestation of kris wants for themself. i think they enjoy playing the hero, being out of the shadows for once. having the spotlight on them. it's something steven doesn't particularly enjoy, especially for how traumatizing his experience was to become savior of the galaxy. it's a title he finds uncomfortable. not that he would take back anything he's done-- it's all good things. but- the attention, and especially the treatment he gets (being put on a pedestal) is not very fun.
i want to touch on this briefly since we're here as well. i do think the biggest contribution to steven's issues is that it's rare that he faces true consequences for his actions. i think because of this title, as well as some of his powers makes it so that he can undo most of his bad actions. this is especially apparent when he shatters jasper. she harbors no ill will towards him- she submits to him, even.
and because everyone he's wronged has also, arguably done things just as bad as him, it's not something held against him. at least on a larger scale (of course characters like aquamarine and eyeball are exceptions). but his loved ones just want what's best for him, which makes sense. he's not doing okay in future, and there isn't much time for everyone to worry about his bad actions at that very moment.
though i do think after the events of i am my monster, they have a discussion about it. it sucks that it was cut short because the ramifications of steven shattering someone when pink diamond didn't even do that is crazy. he's probably done the worst damage out of the three here and i'm sure it does his ptsd no favors.
this is really long winded but the point im trying to make is that i think steven wants a bit of a break from taking the reigns- on anything. i think he's at a point where he doesn't really trust himself with others very much yet, let alone in emotions. and especially for other humans. so i think if he's able to get over the sort of awkwardness present here he would be able to enjoy just sitting in silence with kris.
as for anne- i do think she's well adjusted. i think she has a newfound confidence in herself that wasn't there before amphibia, and overall she sees her experience in amphibia quite differently than steven's journey or kris's current predicament. that said- i do think she would be going through a bit of a post-amphibia depression. losing her frog found family still occasionally feels like a punch to the gut, and being 16 i think it would come up rather often. maybe she would be in moods that make her very mopey and demotivated. she would bounce back, but its still somewhat of a fresh wound. but i think she turns some of her sadness into motivation sometimes. she would be motivated to study amphibians, to learn more about the species she holds so dear.
this kinda neatly matches with my previous ramble, in that anne actually understands what college is. which intrigues /both/ steven and kris. i'm sure they would love to learn all about that, especially since asriel and connie are doing basically the same thing. thought that was fun. she talks about college apps, asks them both about frogs. of course, steven and kris both love amphibians, reptiles, etc. they're very into that. steven still cares a lot about wildlife and kris enjoys animals that are not looked upon favorably. there's a kinship in it.
eventually when everyone is comfortable with each other anne sort of seems the best fit to lead all of their conversations. it's not all one-sided, but steven enjoys not having to speak sometimes, and it's not something kris really does. but anne and steven sorta learn to read their body language and other actions they perform to express their thoughts. kris is also expressive with their facial expressions. i think they would both respect kris enough to allow them ample room to express themself, without putting words or feelings into their mouth. (which i assume many monsters in hometown do.)
out of the trio, i don't think many would be forthcoming with their circumstances or experiences. they all seem to be characters sort of moving past those huge events in their life, bar kris since at this moment in time they're still dealing with their issues regarding the soul. which i'm sure would be insane to anne and steven, as they sorta gotta jump back into roles they thought were long gone by now.
i wonder if kris's possession would be sort of a relapse for steven? as in, he slots back into this helper role, assuming way too much responsibility for something that isn't even his fault? or perhaps he would be more mellow about it, there to support kris and do his best to help, without trying to do so much on his own.
and anne would be able to offer support in her own ways as well, a little rusty from her last adventure but she knows how to wield a sword. i don't think she would want kris to get hurt. it would haunt her.
imagine the three of them going to a dark world together ahsfksdfks. they would look awesome.
and since i like to believe the dark world reflects what you want to be/appear as, thinking about how they would look is really fun...
steven sort of being in that healer passive role would be neat. would give him a much needed break. and anne as a sort of tank, taking a loot of hits before she goes down. she has a lot of confidence in her own abilities now. and of course kris; still the leader, the knight directing everyone. something like that. that was on the fly.
the experience would be invigorating to anne, but probably super stressful for steven? until they get more comfortable that is.
and- i don't want to discount trauma anne has from amphibia. because she definitely does, and there's a lot of little things that would set her off the same way it would steven. i just think she has a bit of a better view of her time in amphibia than steven does with his whole thing. her last memories are bittersweet, while steven's last memory is like....i am my monster. ashdfksdg. i think his own actions haunt him more than hers. though i'm sure she still has regrets over what happened to sasha and marcy, like blaming herself for so many things that aren't really her fault. she probably falls back into old thinking patterns, back when she knew she didn't love herself.
and these are all characters that actively deal with self-deprecating thoughts about themself. not that it's like that all the time but yknow what i mean. it's a process, some days are worse than others. you get it. they help each other in the only ways they know how.
er..though i'm not sure how much of kris would reach them.
thats a depressing thought to end on.
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ayselluna · 29 days
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Spawn Astarion Recommendations!
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So I heard you guys want Spawn Astarion Recommendations too! I heard you :) Apologies if it took awhile it got hard to compile everything I read.
I honestly have read more one shots Spawn Astarion than series tbh. but here are some series I love! These are Astarion x Tav / You / OCs following the story from the game! I'll be happy to make another list for AU's! Another Ascended list is on the way too~ :))
I DEFINITELY RECOMMEND FOLLOWING THESE WRITERS TOO as they have really great HCs and One Shots!
The Arrangement by @fangswbenefits - This is one of the first ones I've read and how she wrote Astarion is just so ASTARION! The lines, the slow burn and the smut are exquisite as hell. I do suggest reading her oneshots too! Her smuts are so good I suggest reading it ALONE. XD ONGOING!
The Fangs Between Us by @feyascorner - Not your typical Lovey-dovey Astarion and Tav. Astarion actually felt betrayed and actually tried killing you! Can love still blossom? is it still there? Would you guys even be friends?! So much angst and but oh so goooood! ONGOING!
Shadows of the Past by @pastshadowsff-blog / PallidMoon - What's an Astarion story w/o the angst? I would definitely be devastated the moment Astarion left me! The process of healing and loving, the confrontations here are soooo on point! Have a good gale on the side too~ ONGOING!
Love at First Knife by @bg-brainrot - DEFINITELY A FAVORITE! Aside from the romance from Astarion and TAV you get the WHOLE GANG TOO! I'm a sucker on everything on this series! I can't count how many times I've re-read this while I wait for my other fics to update. ONGOING? I'm not sure but it gets updated!
When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again by @bg-brainrot - okay another one from the same author, at this point just read everything!! okay, but what if TAV died and got reincarnated?! If you got an elf TAV this is definitely one for the books! I LOOOOVE this one a lot. Getting your memories back and seeking your lover out, would it be the same? Would he even remember you?! Surely he will right?! but what if he don't? hmmmm READ IT! ONGOING!
Astarion Talks In His Sleep by  @littlejuicebox - This is a short series but this was just memorable coz WE'LL LOVE EVERYTHING in it. It's one of the happy endings you'd totally wish for and how this story got me gasping and giddy was just chef's kiss! You'll love her DADSTARION series too! I LOVE THIS FAMILY A LOT. :))
Cursed To Put My Hands On Everything by @maladaptive-menace - I recently found this and I got hook immediately on the concept! I also love the titles on this series, as the title says~ :)) So imagine you're doing your mundane things IRL and one tiring night you found yourself Isekaid IN the GAME?! You know you're effed up, how would you survive?! well at least you got your dream come true of meeting the gang in the flesh…specially the Pale Elf~ ONGOING!
Winter Holiday Challenge Fills by @justporo - So this is an all fluff from the Winter Holidays! I know it's not christmas anymore but if you missed it during that time who cares?! READ IT! Get all the fluffiness you need from this series! Check that full masterlist on their profile too while you're at it~ :)) FINISHED!
The Currents of Destiny by @lendeah - You and Astarion fights after he didn't go with the Ascension, left and scorn you to die screaming! But what if he sees all the what if that could happen?! Would his decision stay the same? FINISHED!
An Adventure in Making a Life by @redlittlefoxari - okay something different but maybe a PREGNANCY fic anyone? :D This was one of the fastest story I binged! You both just learned you're pregnant but an invitation from a friend comes forth! Maybe keep it a surprise for the gang? How would this pregnancy on the road takes you? ALSOOOO FREAKING LOVIING HUSBAND ASTARION UGGHH i can't~
I have more authors to recommend but we'll keep this list for now! I urge you to follow these authors too and check their other works.
Let me know if you guys are up for more recommendations! I have more to share! <3 Hope you enjoy reading them as I did! More reading buddies!
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chososdiscordkitten · 4 months
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Obsessive!Choso♡ pt 5
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pt 4 here
content: stalking (duhh) Choso goes home for Christmas, calls u nd texts u the whole time, brief mention of his brothers, mentions of readers lipstick n perfume, no use of y/n or pronouns, cursing (a.n) ahhhhh this one is one of my favorites. made me smile a lot. wrote this listening to 'Sextape- Deftones'
Taglist : @brokenscaredakira @adanfore @emojk777 @waytootiredforthisss @denypipa @broccocrab @sunaumei @morinuu @just-pure-trash @iluvreinah @integers @ziklope @killakungfu-wolfbitch @1arminsimp
Obsessive!Choso who actually enjoyed coming to class, now that you sit next to him. Enjoying it so much that he felt like his grades were somewhat getting better. Now that he actually had to show that he was writing down notes. Having to actually follow the presentations from the professor on his computer, knowing that you were sitting inches away from him. When you sat so far away- he didn't have to worry about taking notes, or even bother opening his computer- because you couldn't see him. ‘You are good for me. You make me want to better myself for you.’ he'd think, looking over at you writing on your computer. 
Obsessive!Choso who had anxiety that once this project was over- you'd run back to the same friends that will never make you smile the way he does. The people who peer pressured you into drinking and doing drugs- just because you wanted to fit in. ‘You'd never have to worry about that with me. I will never pressure you into doing something you don't want to do.’ 
Obsessive!Choso who was scared that once the excuse of being partners for this class was no longer usable. You'd leave him, you'd find someone else to entertain your afternoons, someone who will replace him. So scared that he’d grovel to the professor, asking for an extension. Telling you, “Somethings missing- I'll let you know once I've finished my part.” when you'd ask him if he was finished with it yet. Knowing he did that summary days ago, only having it on another doc so you wouldn't see that he finished it.
Obsessive!Choso who spent the last few classes he had left with you on the verge of tears. His heart was heavy in his chest, pocketing all the notes you had exchanged with him. Running out of space to put them, finding an old converse box and placing them inside. Using so much tape too quickly, trying his best to preserve the pieces of paper. Nights where he'd re-read them, feeling guilt for leaving you. 
Obsessive!Choso who felt like his brain was going to explode, the anxiety of turning in the assignment was too much. Knowing he would have to turn it in before winter break- right before he left you. ‘I want to trust you,’ he thought, your name in his mind as though he was speaking to you. ‘I really do. But it's not that I don't fully trust you. I don't trust the people you’ll be left with. The people without families- like you. Who will prey on you. Who will make you think they're just like you. But they're not, they're just trying to manipulate you-’ You scanned his face, knowing he was thinking of something else while you were talking. “You okay?” You asked, seeing him shake his thoughts away before answering, “Just thinking.” he replied, a pained smile on his face. “About?” You asked, wondering what he could be thinking that was so serious that his face looked almost agonized, while you spoke.
Obsessive!Choso who contemplated lying, but the need to tell the truth was far greater. “I keep thinking about you all alone here. Alone during Christmas.” He confessed, seeing you sigh. “I like being alone. I'll be okay, don't worry.” You assured, almost reaching for his hand to comfort him- but you knew that was too far, and definitely too soon. You didn't want to invade his personal space. Seeing him only return a forced smile to you, knowing he wasn't fully convinced of the idea from his silence. Seeing an opportunity to lift up the mood, you let out a laugh. “I'll call you everyday- Send you pictures every 5 minutes.” You joked, earning a smile from him. “So many pictures that you'll feel like you're still here.” you smiled, seeing him nod his head while smiling. 
Obsessive!Choso who wished you knew how badly he wanted you to actually do those things. Liking the way you tried to ease his worries. Pushing away the anxiety so he could relish the last few times he'd be able to see you. 
Obsessive!Choso who's following habit became worse. Now standing outside your house for what felt like hours. Watching the four walls that kept you from him in the cold wind, standing still when it rained. Even when it started snowing for the first time that season. ‘We’re together for the first snowfall. You know what that means right? True love will blossom between us.’ Seeing you through the curtainless window, watching you close a thin curtain- as though you felt him watching you. Now only letting him see your shadow. Smile on his face when you'd call him- your tone made it clear that you were grinning ear to ear the whole time, oblivious to the fact that he was just a few yards away from you. Seeing you pace in front of the window as he spoke to you. ‘I know you want me to make a move. But I’ll wait. I will wait till the moment you feel the same way I do.’ He'd think, listening to you speak. 
Obsessive!Choso who thanked whatever celestial being that was out there, for making the lights on the sidewalk go out. Watching your house without fear of someone seeing him. ‘For now-I will love you from a distance,’ he professed, a grin on his face when he thought of your name. ‘I will wait for you.’ 
Obsessive!Choso who turned in the assignment a day before he left. He was pushing it- but he did it for a reason. He did it for you, to make sure you wouldn't give up on him.
Obsessive!Choso who was about to leave- but he needed to see you, just one more time. Walking around campus trying to find you. Checking his phone seeing his plane was leaving in an hour and a half. Seeing you inside the campus cafe- book in your hand. Break had already started, the campus was almost empty, but seeing you doing what you told him you'd do. Catching up on the books you started, but never finished. ‘Even if you didn't know I was looking at you- you look effortless.’ he thought, walking towards the doors of the shop. 
Obsessive!Choso who opens the door and sees you look up at him. Smiling and mouthing a ‘hi’ at him. Walking to the small table you sat at. Not knowing what to say, shaking his head, seeing your face turn in confusion. He was just standing there- not pulling out the chair to sit. “I was- I was about to leave.” He smiled, pulling the chair across from you, rings clashing against the wooden back.
Obsessive!Choso who sat down and seemed fidgety, compared to the chivalric aura he usually kept. “And you decided you needed one last shitty coffee before leaving. Smart.” You smiled, joking in hopes he'd loosen up a little. “No-” he smiled, softening his expression. Seeing you place your book down, making sure to remember the title. He wanted to say a million things, tell you how he needed to see you. He needed to say goodbye. As though he was your friend of 10 years leaving to fight in a war, feeling like if he left you; he would never see you again. “I wanted-” He started, closing his eyes and fidgeting with his hands. “I wanted to say ‘goodbye’ to you, before I left.” Seeing you fight off a smile, your eyes blinking rapidly at his words. “That's sweet of you.” You smiled, tilting your head and seeing him look up. 
Obsessive!Choso who felt his cheeks warm at your words. “What time’s your flight?” You asked, picking up your coffee and taking a sip. “In an hour.” He exhaled, seeing you widen your eyes. “What are you still doing here? You're going to be late!” you exclaimed with a smile. ‘I know, I know. I still have to go get my bags, and call an uber to take me across town.’ He thought, hearing you say the same things he was thinking, calling your name in his mind, ‘But I don't care. I will buy another one, I will spend another fortune on a useless ticket home. I needed to see you.’ 
Obsessive!Choso who was practically pushed out the doors of the shop, standing in front of him with a look on your face as though you were waiting for something. “I'll call you.” You mumbled, looking into his eyes for the very first time. “I’ll answer.” He replied, hesitating to take a step back before walking away, looking back and seeing you wave goodbye at him through the windows. Closing his eyes, feeling his feet want to turn around, looking back once more. Already sitting back in the chair you were in when he first walked in. ‘Wait for me.’ he thought, speed walking back to his apartment.
Obsessive!Choso ran through the airport, being 15 minutes late- but he made it. Standing in the line to board the plane, looking over to a small gift shop. Seeing the cover of the book you were reading- running over and buying it as the line moved. Almost 30 dollars, but fuck. You were worth it.
Obsessive!Choso who got home to his brothers, he was happy to see them but something was missing. You were missing, spending the first night in his bed picturing you here with him. Being nice to his brothers, joking with them. Waiting for you to call him, or text him. But radio silence. Nothing. It made his head hurt, trying to fight off the thoughts of you being kidnapped. With his luck, the first night he was away from you, you probably would. Knowing how careless you were while walking home, how you didn't take any safety measures like carrying pepper spray or making sure to not take the same route home. ‘I will always make sure you're safe. Make sure you have black out curtains, make sure you don't have to walk home alone.’ Hands behind his head while looking up to the ceiling. ‘And as much as you'd fight me on this- make sure you won't walk around with your earphones in.’ The chances of someone coming up behind you and pressing a chloroform rag to your face were too great. Choso was sure that once he could, he would instill that fear into your head. The fear of someone hurting you, of how dangerous it was being so careless nowadays. The fear of someone taking you away from him.
Obsessive!Choso who opened instagram, clicking your account. His heart shattered. You had privated your account. Almost as though you heard his thoughts of how reckless you were about your privacy. Holding his phone in his hands, staring down at the screen with a mournful look plastered to it. Seeing a notification pop up at the top of his screen, from you. ‘You know me. You know me so well- you know exactly when I need you.’
Obsessive!Choso who screenshotted the notification, opening it and seeing you sent him a photo. Of you with a plate of food in your hand, furrowing your eyebrows playfully. ‘u home yet ?’ he read, closing his eyes and almost reciting a prayer in thanks. Seeing you in a black tank top with his favorite band printed onto it. The first photo you had ever sent him- a photo that only he had. That you took specifically for him. ‘You'd never send this to one of your friends. You showing me your shirt proves it.’ Saving the photo and typing, ‘since like 9pm’ quickly going to his settings and changing his wallpaper to the photo you just sent him. ‘why didnt u tell meeee’ you replied. You didn't give him a whole lot of time to reply before you called him, scolding him playfully. “You didn't want me to call you did you?” you asked, sarcasm making Choso smile. “I know it's late over there- I thought you were asleep.” He replied, doing the same thing he's done every time he's been on the phone with you. Picturing you standing in the same place you were when you took the photo. 
Obsessive!Choso who asked you what you were eating, “Leftover mac n cheese my roommate left.” you replied, almost disappointed with your own answer. ‘Cruel. How cruel of them to leave you with their leftovers. I will always make sure you eat a decent meal- that's right,’ he thought, saying your name. ‘I cook too. Just for you.’ He thought, hearing you let out a laugh when he asked, “Really?” in disappointment. “It was that or frozen pizza that's been there since I moved in.” You smiled. Your cheeks feeling fuzzy at his concern, “How's the reading going?” he asked, trying to ignore the sound of a glass breaking coming from the kitchen. “Meh, boring- the main character in this one I'm reading is annoying.” You shrugged, “As a matter of fact lemme read you one of the stupidest things he's said-” You smiled, opening the book and flipping the pages. “So, anyway, there I go again. Straying away from the point. Where was I?- like who published this? Makes me upset just thinking about how this guy is real.” you spoke, tossing it onto the counter and sighing. “The whole book is like that- it’s all just a mans troubles with women and enjoying hurting them- s’fucking stupid.” You heard him let out a stifled laugh, “It's not funny-” You smiled, hearing him keep laughing, “First book I want to finish and it's bullshit.” you exclaimed, hearing him settle down. “What book is it?” He asked, trying to stop his laugh. ‘I know what book it is. It's the same one you were reading in the cafe. The same one I started reading on the flight.’
Obsessive!Choso who smiled when you said the title. Closing his eyes in triumph. “Why did you get so far reading it?” he asked, knowing that the first page was shocking enough. “I thought- it was a book of someone who gets their karma back- becomes a better person- blah blah blah. But nope, apparently there's 2 more books. Of the same man, with the same troubles.” You replied, taking a bite from your plate and leaning against the counter. Furrowing your eyebrows when you fully processed his question. “How'd you know I was so far into reading it?” you asked, your tone indicated it wasn't a serious question. But it made Choso’s heart drop. “I saw how little pages you had left at the cafe.” He lied. Knowing he had read that page in the book earlier. Not fully read- more skimmed the pages.
Obsessive!Choso who felt relief when he heard you inhale. “I didn't know you noticed such small details like that.” You commented, holding the phone with your shoulder as you took another bite. Choso hummed at your response, “Anyway- don't talk to me about that book.” You grinned, hearing Choso exhale with a smile. You were about to ask him how his brothers were, starting the sentence but hearing a door slam open. “Choso- Yuuji broke moms vase!” You heard a teasing tone through the phone, “I did not!” you heard bickering, Choso mumbled a quick, “I gotta go-” placing his phone on his desk, not hanging up. Hearing Choso scold his younger brother before ending the call. Smiling at how much his tone changed when speaking to his brothers- more authoritative and demanding.
Obsessive!Choso who felt horrible for hanging up the way he did, thinking of how disrespectful it was. The argument that sparked between his brothers ran long, all of them blaming each other for breaking this vase. Which, according to Choso, was priceless. Texting you a quick, ‘sorry i didnt call u back, they just settled down.’ Seeing the message go from delivered to seen. ‘You were waiting for me?’
Obsessive!Choso whose heart felt tight when he read your reply. ‘was just abt to go to bed’ his fingers typing quickly, ‘im sorry, i'll text you in the morning?’ seeing the typing bubble pop up the minute he pressed send. ‘kk talk to u tmmrw. goodnightttt :)’ he smiled at your reply, ‘goodnight :]’ he replied, wanting to send you a <3 heart but he restrained himself.
Obsessive!Choso who texted you every morning, making you smile at his sweet ‘good morning’ texts. Knowing he'd be busy with his brothers so you didn't call him, but your phone was stuck onto your hand, replying to his texts at lightning speed. ‘call me when ur not busy okay?’ you'd ask, making Choso giggle like those words were some kind of great attempt at flirting. And he would- he'd try to. Somehow always being interrupted by his brothers- remembering why he chose a college so far away. But the 2 am calls when he'd hear your voice, quiet and sleepy. They were worth it. Knowing you'd keep yourself awake just to talk to him. The constant pinging from his phone and Choso leaving the room to call you made his brothers suspicious. Even more so when one of them caught a glimpse at his wallpaper, seeing a photo of you- taking his phone and passing it around. Teasing him and asking if he finally found a partner. 
Obsessive!Choso who died of embarrassment when he was talking to you on the phone, one of his brothers knocked loudly at his door. Jumping when he heard the youngest pound at the locked door. “Choso! Open up-” he shouted, twisting the doorknob as he heard you laugh. “Are you talking to your lover?!” he teased through the door, only earning you to laugh louder. Saying ‘Hold on’ Before muting the call, standing up and opening the door to see them huddled to hear what he was saying. A dark aura around him when he saw them, “What is wrong with you.” He stated, rather than asked, seeing them look up at him. “I needed 20 bucks…?” the youngest asked, Choso reaching into his pocket and tossing the money at him. Closing the door and locking it again. Coming back to the phone and pressing the unmute button. 
Obsessive!Choso mumbled, “Sorry.” hoping you didn't hear what just happened. Closing his eyes as you let out a small laugh, “Am i crazy or did your brother just call me your ‘lover’?” you asked, a smile evident in your tone. “You heard that?” he grimaced, hearing you laugh. “Yes. Yes, I did.” You answered, “What are you telling your brothers that they think I'm your ‘lover’, Choso?” You teased, hearing him exhale with a smile. ‘You're teasing me? Bad. This is bad.’ he thought, making his heart beat quickly in a good way, and in a bad way. Knowing that he would have to fight off your attempts at flirting with a stick. ‘So very tempting. Too tempting. But it's too soon. I want us to be good friends before I call you mine. But I am already yours. You don't have to worry about that.’
Obsessive!Choso who shut his eyes tightly, instantly regretting the words that came out of his mouth. “I haven't said a thing, but they noticed the texting. And the secret phone calls.” The silence showed him the disappointment you felt. Knowing you wanted to hear how he told them all about you. “Oh! Well I mean anyone would be suspicious of that!” you exclaimed, it got awkward. You felt embarrassed. Thinking that the attempt to make a move flew over his head, or he didn't feel the same. But all the signs? All the longing looks, all the subtle comments he’d say that made you realize he paid more attention to your words than you thought. To your actions, his eyes scan your face when you’d change the color of your lipstick, or when you'd wear a different perfume. Face full of confusion till he noticed what was different- you thought he was into you. ‘Maybe he is- and he just sucks at seeing when someone is flirting with him.’ You'd assure yourself.
Obsessive!Choso who kept saving the pictures you sent him. Of your coffee, of your poetry, of your outfits for the day, sending him a photo of the snow. Pictures of anything you could find, Choso would always smile at them. The ability of scrolling through your instagram wasn't sorely missed. Now being able to see photos of you that you took just for him. And saving every single one. Smile on your lips whenever you'd see he ‘loved an image’ before replying to your messages. 
Obsessive!Choso who was on his phone, refreshing your instagram page over and over again. Switching to his personal account, an account he made in highschool. Not even posted anything, less than 100 followers. Seeing a small red circle at the top right corner. Someone requested to follow him. Opening the notification and seeing you. Slack jawed when he saw the sight. Screenshotting quickly and accepting it. Requesting you back, seeing an incoming call flash onto the screen. “Hey.” he smiled at your words, gulping his excitement. “I was hoping you'd answer.” You continued, ‘God, you are everything to me.’ he thought.
Obsessive!Choso who felt like you were finally letting him in. “I know I told you I didn't really like social media.” You started, ‘Yes. Tell me the truth.’ he thought, picturing you in your bedroom, closing your eyes in embarrassment. “I lied a little- I just post a lot of bullshit, nd i was embarrassed you'd see that and think ‘Jesus this person is so annoyinnggg’ that's why!” You laughed, making Choso smile. “Well let me see-” he said, putting the phone on speaker and scrolling through your account, like he craved doing for the past few days. Making approving sounds as you told him to look away. 
Obsessive!Choso who called your name, grinning ear to ear, “Yes Choso?” You replied, mimicking the serious tone he called your name in. He felt it again, he felt his mouth speak before his brain could catch up. “Don’t ever worry about me finding you annoying, ever. Okay?” opening his eyes in shock at his own words. Only making you mute yourself to let out an over excited laugh, cheeks in pain from how hard you were smiling. Unmuting yourself and having the courage to say something. “Promise?” You let out, fiddling with the drawstring of your hoodie. “I promise.” He replied, making you exhale harshly. “I want to punch you in the face.” You laughed, making him laugh through his nose. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, knowing the answer. “No. You didn't, and that's why!” You exclaimed. Rolling to lay on your stomach, shoving your face into your pillows. 
Obsessive!Choso knew that his attempts at brushing off your flirting weren't doing anything. He knew that the harder he'd try, the harder it would be to not flirt back. 
Obsessive!Choso who answered your request for a facetime, doing his hair in the bathroom. Seeing you pop up on his phone. “Heyyy” You started, furrowing your eyebrows when you saw him getting ready, “Woahhh, you got a date?” You smiled, seeing him look at you with a grimace. ‘Jealousy. Don't be possessive, I would never commit adultery. I only have eyes for you.’ he thought, scrambling with his hands before answering, “I have family photos with my brothers today. Thus-” He looked at the camera, his hands pointing to the ugly christmas sweater he was wearing. “This monstrosity.” He finished, making you laugh. Taking 3 pictures of him to tease him, but it didn't work. ‘You want pictures of me? Do you use them as your wallpaper too?’ He only smiled at the sudden flashes of white from his phone. “Send me pictures of the photos. I need to see the Kamo family in matching sweaters.” You smiled, picturing them all in the awkward style that was used in the 90’s. He squinted his eyes, already picturing your reaction when you'd see the photos. “I’ll think about it.” sarcasm filled his tone as he fought off a smile. 
Obsessive!Choso who put on his jewelry, all while you were propped up and watching him. “When do you get back again?” You asked, seeing him look at you whilst fixing his rings. “I was planning on getting back on the 6th of January. But I was thinking-” He smiled, “Of coming back on the 29th.” Picking up his phone and seeing you smile. “Good idea. Its been fucking boring out here. I forgot how many unstimulating people there were at this school.” You exhaled. ‘Say you miss me. Say it.’  
Obsessive!Choso who saw you post a photo of a book earlier. “And the reading?” he asked, putting his shoes on. “It's a little better- I picked up Gone Girl.” you exhaled, “Good choice.” He grinned, seeing you exasperate. “Controversial- I know, but I kinda see myself in the main character?” You confessed, making a chill run down his spine. “Not the whole- murdering and framing someone for crimes-” you laughed, hearing his silence. “I mean in the way she thinks, the way she connects things. It's intriguing.” You clarified. Making him smile, “It was a very good book. The movie too.” He smiled, picturing you being as insane as the main character, “God I loved the movie.” You trailed off. ‘This was fate. Are you telling me you feel the same way I do? In your own way- but still.’ 
Obsessive!Choso who saw you started posting two plates on a table in a restaurant. Wondering who you could be with. ‘All your friends are out of town, roommates too. Who are you with?’ wanting to ask you, but that wasn't his place. Not just yet. But that didn't stop him from scouring your following list, going through your tags. Trying to find who this person you were with was. But not even a hint was dropped.
Obsessive!Choso who sent you the photos of his family, as awkward as you pictured them. Noticing there weren't any parents, just him and his younger brothers. Calling him immediately and laughing, “Choso- you all look adorable.” You laughed, making him blush. “This is my new laptop wallpaper, I love these pictures.” You smiled, “Nope, that's not necessary.” Choso smiled, his tone full of embarrassment., But also feeling his chest warm. ‘Making me your screensaver, and telling me you love the pictures I'm in? Can we get married already?’
Obsessive!Choso who received a picture of your laptop, you acted on your words. The photo was your screensaver, not just on your computer- but on your phone as well. Your attempts to tease him only made him think that you love him as much as he did. And that's all you did, feed into his delusions and only fuel the fire that was burning inside of him since the first day he saw you. You felt like this break with him being gone was necessary. Necessary to step back and see how you really feel for him. Remembering you've only been friends with him for- if you were being generous, was a month and a half. True, you found him intriguing before you became friends. But you didn't want to risk it. Ruin a friendship with someone like him. Slowly reeling in the line you had thrown at him, becoming open to the idea of him being just a friend. 
Obsessive!Choso was on the flight home, a week earlier than he had planned- but Christmas was over. And he didn't want to be away from you any longer. Leaving his bags at his apartment before walking onto campus, small piles of snow around the doors of the coffee shop. realizing how much it really snowed. Reaching his hand for the door knob but pulling away when he hears his name being called. Turning around to see you, speed walking to him. The big coat you wore made you look like a walking marshmallow. Smiling when he saw your face, thinking of how much he longed to see you. The pixelated facetimes and photos you sent him not coming close to showing how beautiful you looked face to face. 
Obsessive!Choso who blinked and somehow opened his eyes to see the top of your head, your cheek pressed to his chest. Your arms around him, hands hesitating to hug you back at the shock. Feeling his hands rest on your puffy jacket, almost nervous to touch you. Nestling your face to his chest and murmuring “Missed you.” Pulling away and looking up at him with a smile, cold weather making his nose pinkish. “I missed you too.” He smiled, almost gulping for breath. Seeing you take a step back, smile on your face. Opening your mouth to say something, “There you are, I was wondering where you ran off to.” you were interrupted. A man coming up behind you, hand on your waist- almost pulling you away from Choso. Watching you lean into his touch- 'Um?' calling your name in his head, almost in anger. ‘Who the fuck is this?’ Seeing you smile while looking over at him. 
Obsessive!Choso who hid his irritation well, jaw clenched and eyebrows threatening to furrow. Seeing you scramble for words, “How rude of me- This is my good friend Choso I was telling you about.” You smiled, looking at the man who looked Choso up and down. Just with that, Choso knew this guy was using you. Just by looking at him. ‘I didn't know you were into pretty boys, older too.’ he thought, watching your eyes sparkle when you looked over at him. “And this- This is my… friend, Theo.” You beamed. ‘You didn't wait for me. But you also didn't give up on me completely. The hesitation at calling him your 'friend' tells me that.’ silence filling the air as you smiled, waiting for them to greet each other. “We were about to go to dinner, do you want to join us, Choso?” You asked. Seeing your 'friend' look over to you with a certain look on his face you only see in men who were expecting something more from a person. Sickeningly sweet smile on Choso's face when he heard 'Theo' speak, “He just got off a flight babe-” He started. ‘Babe. Babe? What an uncreative and unimaginative thing to call you, no wonder you invited me. He must not make you laugh, but that's what I'm here for. I'm here to make you see that this 'Theo' is nothing but a place holder. A place holder for me.'
-
pt 6 here
LET ME KNOW IF U WANNA BE TAGGED PLS ITS MY FAVORITE PART ( if u wanna be tagged without commenting pls just say sum like 'tag me continually' i don't wanna @ someone who doesn't wanna be @ ykno?
IM SORRY I ADDED ANOTHER MAN BUT PLS BE PATIENT I HAVE PLANS FOR THIS.......I wrote this today and was blushing and kicking my feet the whole time. Started at 12 pm, and finished at 3 am. I love doing this. alr writing the next part hehe
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ladyreadalot · 2 years
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hey guys! I'm kind of vague-posting here, but I'm getting really frustrated with a particular side of fandom right now. And by "really frustrated", I mean actually wanting to ban them from AO3 and every other fandom-related website (which is literally impossible but MAN do i want to try).
A fanfic author I greatly respect has recently decided to remove all of their fics from AO3, due to what seems like fan harassment. I won't share their name out of respect for their privacy, but if you're in the PJO or Merlin fandoms, it's highly likely you know who I'm talking about.
They haven't been very clear about the exact reasoning behind their sudden departure, but from what I can piece together from what they have said, a fan recently tracked them down/found them irl and harassed them. Apparently it's not just one person either, since apparently multiple people got a hold of their personal email and began sending them mail.
This side of fandom is not okay. Harassing creators-- even out of love!! even kindly!! even if it's just you wanting to let them know how much you appreciate their work!!-- is never okay. Comments and kudos on AO3 are VERY different than finding someone's email or finding them irl to tell them that. Many creators want to keep their fanfic-writing-lives and their irl-lives totally separate, and that's their call!
I know that you love their writing, because we all did. But invading the privacy of creators to the point where they no longer feel safe inhabiting a space designed to allow users to anonymously share stories without irl repercussions??? That's crossing a line. And I feel like this sort of harassment is becoming more and more common in fandom.
It's frustrating and annoying and it's leading creators to find fandom less and less of a safe place. Stop it. Seriously. I know that you've read and kudos-ed and commented on their every fic, but that doesn't make you the author's friend, and while I'm sure they still appreciate you, there is a boundary in place. Respect it!!
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colleendoran · 1 year
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Misunderstanding
I received a note from someone who was upset I “failed to cite Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics” in my research for my work on Neil Gaiman's Chivalry and the essays I wrote about it. 
I really appreciate that people want to make sure credit goes where it's due, and I have a lot of respect for Scott McCloud's accomplishment with his wonderful book.  
I haven't read it myself in some years, and didn't cite it in my articles because I didn't reference it. I don't even know where my copy is so I don't know what McCloud referenced, either. 
The information in my articles re: illuminated manuscripts and the Bayeux Tapestry, as well as other theories about the development of sequential art from prehistory, not only predate McCloud's work (and in fact, predate McCloud's birth,) but they are so common and so well known in comics circles that asking me to cite them seems as weird to me as asking me to cite the information that George Washington was the first President of the United States.
A part of me wonders if someone is trying to play, "Let's you and him fight." 
No.
But I’m happy to bring to your attention some reading material.
Stephen Becker in his 1959 work Comic Art in America: A Social History of the Funnies, the Political Cartoons, Magazine Humor, Sporting Cartoons, and Animated Cartoons was among the first to discuss the Bayeux Tapestry as comic art. I read that book sometime in the 1980’s. I think a lot of people assume the Bayeux tapestry as comic art was McCloud’s idea, but we don’t all walk around with a reference library in our heads, so there you go. I can’t find my copy of Becker’s work to quote, but I did find an article by Arthur Asa Berger with a mention of the Bayeux Tapestry as comic art in the summer 1978 issue of The Wilson Quarterly.
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My first exposure to the idea of comics as descendant of fine art was Maurice Horn’s 1976 The World Encyclopedia of Comics which was my first read re: comics history. I still have my tattered 1976 edition. 
While Horn scorned the idea that tapestries and manuscripts could be comic art (see, it was a matter of discussion way back then, so much so that authors were writing snarky asides to one another about it,) he believed the origin of sequential art was in the Renaissance sketches of Leonardo da Vinci - which I think everyone now agrees is kind of a bonkers idea.
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I think Horn was just intent on elevating the comic art form by hooking up with da Vinci.
You go, boi.
Comics as descendant of art on scrolls is a very common theory, the easiest to trace being in Manga! Manga! The World of Japanese Comics by Fred Schodt published in 1983 when I was still a teenager. I can't find my copy to show examples, but this text is still in print and you can go read it for yourself. 
I was introduced to manga by cartoonist Leslie Sternbergh and bought Schodt’s book at Books Kinokuniya on (I think) a trip to New York around the time of first publication of Schodt’s work. And years later took a trip to Japan with Fred Schodt and a group of cartoonists including Jeff Smith and Jules Fieffer, Nicole Hollander, and Denys Cowan as the guests of Tezuka Productions.
Here we all are.
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So, I’m familiar with manga, see.
As for comics as descendant of cave paintings, hieroglyphics and ancient art in general, Will Eisner’s 1985 Comics and Sequential Art not only made all of those points, but made those points with comic art examples. Like these.
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And this.
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And this.
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And more than a few words on this:
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I find it amusing that someone is questioning why I didn’t cite McCloud when what you should probably be questioning is why more people don’t cite Eisner who produced his book eight years before McCloud published his and who is well known to have influenced McCloud.
Whatever. My book's autographed.
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I also danced with Eisner. Eat your heart out.
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Understanding Comics is a terrific work with huge advantages over every book (that I know of) about comics that came before: it taught comics entirely in the language of comics. 
But the discussion in it about the origins of comics and my work especially re: illuminated manuscripts/tapestries, did not originate with McCloud. I research illuminated manuscripts because it’s my hobby and it informs my art. 
I encourage everyone to read Understanding Comics because it is an outstanding work.
But it’s not the book that introduced me to the concepts of the development of comic art. It’s not even the point of origin of those concepts. So, there is no reason to cite it.
Also, shocking as it may seem, I occasionally come up with ideas on my own. While I'm younger than McCloud, I've actually been a comics pro longer than he has. So I've had plenty of opportunity to, you know, read things and toss things around, and decide for myself.
When I first read Chivalry and first begged Neil Gaiman to let me adapt it, my head full of the work of Alberto Sangorski and his art for Tennyson’s Le Morte D’Arthur, Understanding Comics hadn’t been published yet.
It's been a good twelve years since I last read McCloud's work, and I don't think I've spoken to him five times in the last three decades. But I'm pretty sure he never mentioned Sangorski.
I hope that clears everything up, and maybe introduces some of you to some works you might not be aware of.
Have a great day.
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your-nanas-house · 2 months
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Soooo I was thinking Cillian X Fan! reader. He takes advantage of the fact that reader admires him sm and uses her for his pleasure…
I'm so so sorry, it took me so long but I was really really smitten with this idea! 🙇🏼‍♀️
Out with the dog
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◇ Pairing: Dark!Cillian Murphy X younger fan!Reader
◇ Warnings: SMUT, Cilly is a perv and bit dark, DUBCON, manipulation, bit mean Cilly (?), oblivious fem reader, fluff, frustration and stress.
◇ Summary: Cillian has company during his daily walk with his dog, Scout.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. I didn't proof read it... I mean I don't re-read my works normally but I just wanted to point it out this time in case I wrote some shit. Enjoy!!! Also thank you @kiss-me-cill-me for your advices and motivation! 🫶🏻
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It wasn't at all what he was expecting when he left the house just to take the family dog for a walk.
The twisted thoughts and stress that had been troubling him all day had become even more insistent with the cool Dublin air and the fall of evening. His mind was really elsewhere when a soft and shy voice interrupted his trail of thoughts, making him realize that he was standing in the same spot, staring at nothing, since a while now.
"Excuse me, sir. I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to bother you but... I'm a huge fan of your work and—" the voice cracked softly, the younger girl that was standing in front of him looked quite nervous and shy which made him smile slightly.
"I-I-I... sorry, I shouldn't have interrupted you" she quickly apologized, her body telling him that she was going to just walk quickly off... too ashamed of the interaction to actually look him in the eyes again.
"Don't worry..." Cillian started, waiting for her name as he removed his sunglasses, flattering his eyes softly when the dim light hit him. She was very pretty and at least 10 years younger than him for sure, he thought while taking her in.
"Y/n!... Y/n" the young woman revealed nervously, her hands shaking awkwardly, a thing that Cillian noticed immediately and that made him smile a little as soon as she tried to hide it by grabbing into her bag... both hands holding the strap making his breath get bit heavier.
He sure was stressed and frustrated, he thought as his eyes remained on her smaller hands as they moved slightly while she talked... up and down, up and down.
Gosh, he really would have loved to have them wrapped around his cock like that, he was certain that those tiny pretty hands weren't that innocent for sure.
"Beautiful name" he commented with a tiny smile in an attempt to distract himself by his pervy intrusive thoughts. He really didn't need to deal with an article of some random magazine commenting on him walking around Dublin with a noticeable hard-on after talking with a younger woman.
She sure was a pretty thing though, from her hair to her eyes down to her breasts and— he needed to keep hold on himself. What gotten into him? He never objectified a woman like that... it wasn't like him.
He needed to keep going with his walk, clear his mind, regain back the control he usually had and—
"I was actually hoping for a bit of company... would you like to walk with me?... and my dog" the proposal slipped out of the older man unconsciously, as his gaze darkened slowly, his body reacting almost animalisticly... like a hungry predator ready to eat his prey.
Fuck, he cursed in his head, looking away as he waited for a reply from her... a poor way to distract himself from her innocent presence. Poor because the wind was apparently against him as well that evening... blowing her sweet scent towards him so that his nostrils could take her even more in.
The Irishman really hoped silently for her rejection peppered with some tender excuse that could have been true or could have been false... he didn't care much.
But of course, things hadn't been going the way he'd hoped all day so why be surprised when he got a shy yes instead of an embarrassed no.
He couldn't complain though, after the stressful week he had... bit of female company could have been the cure, maybe he was able to do some kind of conversation and focus his mind elsewhere and not on her body... but rather on her brain.
...
The soft breeze started to hit them harder, the walk was going well and the small talk was pretty enjoyable, they talked about lots... changing from deep to light, from silly to serious, from sad to happy.
Cillian was really enjoying her presence, her mature thoughts and her friendly personality. His stress and tension could have flown away if it was for her.... moving lips.
Soft looking, pinkish due to the lipstick she had on and very kissable... the actor could clearly imagine them wrapped around his cock. Wetting it all with her warm mouth as her lips would have painted his bases of that pink— pink, he repeated in his head as his Adam's apple bobbed. He needed to change topic quickly and stop focusing on her goddamn lips.
"What do you think of Barbenheimer?" The Irishman asked, slapping himself mentally for the question.
Just keep walking, Cillian, focus on walking... don't look at her... and her pretty blouse that was getting opened by the wind, exposing bit more of her neckline as it moved the fabric of her shirt as well. Damn wind.
He had reached a point where he couldn't even focus on her speaking, the feeling of being on the edge was getting harder as time passed... he was sure that a little push would have made him completely loose his rational thoughts. And then that's when Scout, his dog, decided to just sprint to reach something... making him loose the lazy grip he had on the leash and make the young woman run after him.
Cillian went quickly after them, his mind trying to stay in focus as he saw her skirt rise up at every bounce she did to snatch the leash for him before anything bad could happen. He was quite sure now that she was hiding a pretty revealing underwear under that modest outfit she was wearing.
"There you go, good boy" her soft voice praised as she kneeled down to pet the dog and take the leash, too busy snuggling with him to notice Cillian's gaze on her bouncing breasts.
She wasn't wearing a bra, he cursed under his breath again, his body too warm because of the jogging, his heart drumming harder against his chest as he tried to calm down and focusing on his breathing... and not her heavy.. panting and sexy one.
When the young woman stood back up and brushed her smaller hand against his to give him the leash... Cillian's self-control reached the end
"Thank you" he murmured in a more low tone as his body started to react at his impulses.
By the way her eyes kept shining as she looked at him, he knew that with a bit of pressure he could have made her do whatever he wanted... but was it really what he wanted? He pondered as his feet made him change the route he normally took when out with Scout, leading the oblivious young woman in a dark alley.
"I agree, things are pretty different nowadays" the older actor commented as he mentioned the conversation they were having, his heart beating even faster as he thought quickly of a plan.
Was he really going to take advantage of that kind fan of him? Was he really that desperate and frustrated?
Questions kept filling his head as his eyes remained on the wet street, lost in thoughts
"Do you do this path every day?" Y/n's voice interrupted the silence, making his baby blue eyes look back at her.
Yes, he was.
"Mhhm.. but I take usually the parallel street" he informed her while looking around to be sure that they were alone. The oblivious and curious look on her pretty face was making him harder than ever, making the uncomfortable feeling become a painful one now.
As soon as the Irishman was sure that there was Noone around he let go casually of the leash, whistling to order something to Scout who... after giving a look at his master headed in a run towards the beginning of the alley, sitting there as a guard. Watching around to warn Cillian if someone would have approached.
A glance at his black dog and he acted, not letting Y/n even questioning him before pressed his plumpy lips against hers as the dark swallowed them more now that her body was pressed against the cold and humid wall.
His big hands moved eargerly to her face and neck to keep her tilted like he wanted so to facilitate the kiss he was stealing.
Her neck was soft and tempting, he could easily leave a mark if he wanted but he didn't had so much time.. so he had to take things faster than he hoped.
As the kiss broke he inhaled deeply, letting his nose brush against hers as his thumbs caressed her skin... he didn't dare to open his eyes and meet her probably wide eyes and swollen lips... his cock was already throbbing and if he did that small action he was sure that the seed he was hoping to shoot in her would have just soiled his trousers.
"Damn, darling" Cillian cursed softly, licking his lips before diving down to kiss her neck while pressing his body against hers in an attempt of finding some friction and swallow her in his lust.. caging her body against the bricks even more.
"Do you want to help me, dear?" he asked softly, stroking her neck slowly as his piercing eyes now watched her carefully, noticing the glimpse of insecurity that was in her wide beautiful eyes
"Bet you want to, hm? Or I could just go to another fan of mine. Bet they would die to have a chance like this, darling... acting less ungrateful than you" he softly threatened in his low voice. His irish accent echoing in her head as he manipulated her young mind.
Of course she wanted to help him, he was her idol and favourite actor of all times... she couldn't really risk it and watch his disappointment towards her. She didn't wanted to be faced by his oh-so famous judgy face.
But the embarrassment and hesitance were there as well... she had a dignity and couldn't just allow him to use her like that, right?
Of course, it was something she dreamed about but was she really ready for that? She didn't even try casual sex in her lige yet. But she sure didn't want him to go to another fangirl and his intense gaze was like a poker face to her... so she was stuck on not knowing whatever he was telling the truth or not.
"I don't have the whole day, darling" Cillian's low voice commented as his gaze shifted towards the spot where his dog was still sitting.
Y/n glances at him again, gulping while trying to silence the battles in her head. She really didn't know what to do, what if it wasn't like he expected or if it would turn out to be a mistake.
"Ok!... Y-Yes, I-I want to help you, Mr. Murphy" Y/n stammered out when the actor started to move away from her.
Her heart beated hard against her chest, making her breath get caught in her throat as her hands started to sweat when he hummed and undoed his pants, pulling out his hard cock without hesitation or patience.
"That's a good girl, get on your knees" his low voice ordered before he moved slowly his tip against her lips, painting them with his pre-cum as he thrusted slightly forward to let them wrap around his red tip.
"That's it... suck" Cillian's voice ordered, allowing to be teased a bit before snapping his hips forward, making her hit her head against the wall and gag around his lenght. "Fuck, love" he cursed with a growl, letting her adjust to him before starting to fuck her mouth till he nearly reached his edge.
The actor's first intention was to just burry his cock deep in her throat and cum there but as his icy eyes wandered down to her kneeled form... and stopped on her clinging thighs the need to feel her young cunt around him became a must.
With a slow motion he moved away from her, letting her breath properly as she dried her spit while catching her breath. Tears already adorning her cheeks... she really was beautiful, the man repeated to himself as a mocking coo left him.
His big hands strokes the soft flesh of her cheeks as he made her get up so that he could smash his lips back against hers, forcing a hungry, toothy kiss that luckily slowed down when she reciprocated it.
Her bare leg was hooked up at his narrow hip, allowing his cock to brush her clothed folds with his help.
He was right... she really was wearing some thing revealing panties, arousing and innocent enough to make him just want to fuck her with them on. His thick finger made its way towards her entrance, curling around the fabric to move it with ease so that it was now half-hugging his lenght... allowing her folds to wet his cock while the panties squeezed it as he thrusted.
His leaking tip kept smearing his pre-cum on her spot skin and onto the fabric of her skirt each time it touched it. The hardness of it managed to gift some attention to her clit as well while his thrusts sped up.
Cillian could feel her juices dripping from his cock down to his balls and the underwear squeeze harder around him now that he was moving them in a difference pace.
It didn't took him much to reach his own peak, his body was quickly shaking and limp against her as his warm cum decorated her clothes. He was too desperate to care or to stop himself so that he could have used her pussy to pleasure him a bit more... not that he complained. He was fully satisfied, sweat was running down his forehead as he breathed heavily against her shoulder as he slowly got down his peak, his thrusts slowing down till he was too overstimulated to receive any further touch.
"Darling... can I keep your panties?... So that I can wash them and give them back to you clean, of course" Cillian casually asked, fixing her hair in a tender manner while brushing slowly his thumb on her swollen lips, watching her panting.
Guess the destiny decided for us... we will meet soon again, darling. Just to give you back your undergarments, of course, he thoughts as he tucked himself back and fixed his clothes, ready to continue the little walk they were having previously.
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atierrorian · 1 month
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| Glad it's you | — R.H
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PARING: Rook Hunt x Deaf!reader
SYNOPSIS: All your entire life, you knew silence. But—it isn't as bad as people make it out to be. Because even with your biggest flaw, he still chose you.
˗ˏˋGENRE ´ˎ˗ — Romance, fluff, angst/comfort
˗ˏˋCW ´ˎ˗ — Rook is already a warning. Ooc, mentions of bullying, stalking(It's Rook, duh) horrible poetry.
˗ˏˋNOTES ´ˎ˗ — Wow! It has been a while and I am so sorry for not making anything in quite some time, I've become so busy nowadays that writing has barely crossed my mind, so I'll make most of my free time writing this!
✎| Masterlists|Navigation |
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♡ "Are you really willing to accept me?" ♡ "I've accepted you a long time ago."
People always pitied you for as long as you can remember now. Frequently assuming it must be hard not being able to hear. And yeah, sometimes—but it isn't as bad as they make it out to be, if anything, you find solace in the silent world you have lived in all your life. Sure, there were times when it was hard to understand people, especially if they didn't know sign language.
Luckily, you mostly used poems to interact with them. Though, it was amusing to see them struggle to grasp your poems—that's what makes it fun anyway.
And so, making use of your skills, you swiftly wrote down another poem for a certain hunter. He's one of the few people you've known who could actually decipher what your poems meant. And it's not to say each and every time you show him your masterpiece, he always seems to be on your level when it came to writing back to you.
It always makes you feel giddy inside when he writes back to you. Re-reading every syllable. Caressing the ink that was clearly carefully written with such consideration with each word he used, you couldn't help but feel as though he was hinting to you about something.
You scoffed; shaking the thought away. Who were you trying to fool? This was the Rook Hunt you were thinking about! He's like this with everyone. Besides—why would he go for someone who had a defect? To say the least, you weren't insecure with your disability but, thinking about the blonde hunter who seemed to always cross your mind whenever you wrote—you couldn't help but feel your heart tightening in your chest from such thoughts.
In the end, why would he choose you? You're nothing special, far from it anyway. You're just someone who could never hear and someone who just writes to communicate. But, even then, you were still wrapped around his fingertips. And besides—it doesn't hurt to hope, right?
You felt a hand placed on your shoulder, you froze. You had never stayed still like a statue so fast in your entire life until now. What? Millions of thoughts were racing through your mind right now—was it another of the students who were here to once again chuck balled up papers again? Take your poems away from you and ripped them to pieces or flames it until there's nothing left but ashes?
"Awww, what's this? Another one of your silly stories?"
"Look! It's another one of their love poems!"
"Pathetic if you ask me."
You didn't focused on them, you never even knew what they were saying, and you could care less what insults or degrading comments they were spewing from their filthy mouth. Your knees on the ground while clutching onto what was remains of the paper you once cherished. And they tore it all up like it was nothing.
Shuddering from the memory, you closed your eyes and continued to look at your lap; prepared for whatever torture they were gonna do to you again. Tore your poems? Throw paper at you? Mocking at you while you cry in tears because they had nearly killed you? What else did they had in store for you?
You gripped the paper even harder, shutting your eyelids even tighter if that was even possible. You were scared.
Huh.
You felt a piece of paper slid onto your lap, hesitantly, bit by bit, you forced your eyes to open to see what it was. Was it an insult written in a letter? If so, then you're surprised that they were even intelligent enough to finally realized that you had a hearing disability instead of using their vocals to try and insult you.
But no, it was not anything you expected or thought. Instead, your vision was blessed with a familiar handwriting. Subconsciously, you read what was was written on the white letter that graced your sight, and goodness it always doesn't fail to make your blood rushing through your face. By the sevens, how does he always make you feel this way?
Why such a blue face? You don't need to be ashamed of such a heartache; If you need someone to wipe your tears, my heart will gladly volunteer; What you consider flaws, is what I consider perfection —
Mon Cherie, you are the belle of my dairy heart, You, sweetheart, have me wrapped around your fingertips; I will never let go of the string that wraps around my wrist; That connects me, to you.
My heart beats loudly; even you could hear it— If your heart longs for anything, Mon cherie, just write to me; And tell me all your silly sorrows. -Rook Hunt
Though it was short and simple, you couldn't help but re-read the words every now and then. You smiled seeing the words written on the paper. How could you not? His words sweet like candy, it was addicting in a way even you were worried you wouldn't get enough of it. Or maybe it's too late for you.
Your heart started racing so fast you thought even you could hear it. The more you examined the poem the more it started to look like a love confession. But it couldn't be that, could it? You so badly wanted to hope that you had a chance but you didn't want to get your hopes up.
You, sweetheart, have me wrapped around your fingertips.
Those lines, shit, you couldn't help but swoon over them. Clutching the poem, you finally gazed at the author with wonders and hope. He smiled at you and signed those three words you've been waiting to see.
"I love you."
Was it even possible for your heart to be beating faster than it was before? You held the poem closer to your beating heart, trying to conceal it; worried he might hear it. It felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest. You sighed dreamily and thanked your heart for choosing him.
Meanwhile, Rook chuckled seeing your flustered expression. He found beauty in all things whether it was considered good or bad to others. But he found you the most beautiful of them all. He won't lie, he fell for you hard when he saw you. Because even when he learnt about your flaw, it didn't matter to him; you were still the fairest of them all. You weren't able to hear his words—but that's alright; he'll gladly write thousands or more letters if it meant to show you just how much he loves you.
He'd gladly and happily dance in hot and burning shoes if it meant to show you his devotion to you, just to show how much he cares for you. And if anyone were to make you doubt? Let's just say they wouldn't be coming closer to you anymore if they caused you pain. But before that, he'd come and comfort you, with words written on paper just so all your worries would go away.
Even if his fingers start to go numb and bruises appear, he won't stop until he finally sees you smile. He's glad that his heart chose you.
END
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Wow! Uhm, heyy ik it's been awhile but I finally found enough inspiration to make this! Again sorry it's been awhile I've been so busy that I barely found any time to write at all, but I do hope you guys liked this!
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 13: You Made a Plaything Out of Romance
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Chapter 13: You Made a Plaything Out of Romance
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter thirteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 7.3K (And every word hurts, except the beginning the beginning is nice and then it goes downhill)
Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+. This one is sad guys. References to sex, Implied Sex, Nudity (lying in bed with someone the morning after), Brief explicit sexual encounter (it's like one sentence), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
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A/N: This one took me a while to write, because it was painful. I can neither confirm nor deny that I cried when I wrote it. But I hope y'all hate it as much as I do.
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1984
Soft light from under your floral curtains kisses your face as you wake from sleep, your arms tightening around Ben with a happy sigh as the memories of the night before blanket you in a soft cocoon of love and warmth. You had imagined that night many times over the years you'd been with Ben, but none of them compared to the real thing.
A dull throb of pain coats your limbs and body, that serves as a gentle reminder of exactly how you spent the late hours and the early hours of the morning with Ben, but it was a happy reminder. The memories of last night were passionate and more wonderful than you could have imagined. All thoughts of leaving him wiped away by one night filled with love that was all you wanted for so long. Because now there wasn’t a point in leaving, now that you had the one person you’d wanted since you were eight, you’d never leave him ever again.
You can feel the soft drag of Ben's hand against your back, coaxing you into a peaceful glow of contentment. You were laying on his muscular chest, your head directly over his heart, listening to the steady beat, your arm wrapped in an possessive hold over his body and you never wanted to leave. You wanted to exist in this moment the rest of your life, laying here with the man who'd had your heart for so long, finally at peace and finally allowing yourself to show him how much you loved him and how much he meant to you. Apart of you couldn't believe that this was real, and was worried that you'll wake up and the bed will be cold and Ben will be gone.
"Good morning." Ben's voice rumbles up through his chest. He moves his free hand to push back some of the hair that has fallen into your face, a content smile gracing his perfect lips as he allows his hand to brush over your cheeks.
"Good morning." You smile, leaning into his touch, before you press a kiss directly over his heart. "How long have you been awake?"
"Not too long."
"You didn't want to wake me up?"
"No." He murmurs, his hand still stroking your back in a soft smooth motion, that trails sunshine down your spine. "You're cute when you're asleep.
"Only when I'm asleep?" You tease, propping yourself up so you can look in his eyes, your hair tickling over his chest and you're sure that you must look ridiculous, but you don't care.
He looks better this morning than usual, you decide, noting the sweep of his dark hair over his brow and the sleepy haze in his eyes. His lips are a little red and swollen from when you kissed him and you assume your own look the same.
"No." Ben shakes his head, slowly, smiling down at you, and you can't help but kiss him, brushing your lips against his and letting him set your nerve endings on fire. Ben's happy smile against your mouth makes you want to melt into him and never leave, to curl up inside his heart and let yourself be filled with the glow of his love. “How are you?”
“Good, better than good.” You tighten your arm over his chest. “Just a little sore-“ You smile against his lips.
You hadn’t meant it like a bad thing, if anything, you liked it a little bit,  but judging by Ben’s reaction to those words you understood that he took it the wrong way. 
Ben’s eyes widen, his own smile faltering. He grabs the blanket wrapped around your waist raising it, so his eyes can trace your body to look for bruises. “Did I hurt you?” Ben’s eyes lock with yours once more, voice tinged with worry in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.
“No you didn’t.” Your hand gently falls on his cheek to reassure him. “It was perfect.” For a second you're afraid you said too much, but then Ben’s crooked smile breaks something inside of you.
“Yeah, it was.” He whispers, turning to press a kiss to your palm.
The look in his eyes is soft, filled with so many unspoken things that it makes you dizzy. He’s never once looked at you like that and you know you’ll never get used to it. Because he’s looking at you the way you saw the elderly couple look at each other all those years ago, when you longed for the same thing to happen to you, longed for a man to look at you that way. And you’re sure you’re looking at him the same way, because now it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to hide how you feel about him. There’s no more frustration or anger, there’s only love that crashes over your head and pulls you out to sea with Ben.
 “And It’s a good sore.” You smile sheepishly, cheeks blushing under his gaze. “I wouldn’t mind-um-getting used to it.”
“Oh really?”
You nod, hand still cupping Ben’s cheek.
“Huh.” Ben's smile turns into a mischievous smirk.
All of a sudden he flips you over so that you’re on your back with him hovering over you, smirk more pronounced than it was a few seconds ago. As he does so, your bed makes a terrible creaking sound and shifts to the right precariously on its last leg, literally.
You snort, pressing your lips together, body shaking with stifled laughs. Ben presses his head to your shoulder laughing too, the rich sound of his voice sending tingles down you spine. His eyes shine with laughter as he leans down to kiss you again.
“You owe me a new bed.” You mutter against his lips.
“I think we are both responsible for breaking it.” Ben's hands stroke along your sides, before he drops back down to kiss you.
“Well as slutty as you are I’d think that you would know how to avoid breaking one.” You tease raising a hand to brush his dark hair out of his eyes and Ben leans into your touch. You loved how he responded to you, it reminded you so much of how you felt whenever he touched you, like he couldn't get enough and he never wanted it to stop.
“Did you just call me a slut?” He pulls back with a frown.
“Yes. I did.” You laugh at his sullen expression.
Even when he frowns he's handsome. How did I get this lucky?
"You're lucky you're so cute." Ben sighs. “I’ve broken a few, but I will say I had the most fun breaking this one.”
His words make your heart thud madly in your chest in understanding. It confirms the thing that you had been thinking since you woke up, that last night meant everything to Ben too, that it wasn’t just sex for him. That he wanted to be there with you. And it made you smile wider.
Ben’s eyes are locked with yours, so much love and care slipping through his gaze that it makes you dizzy. “Next time we can break my bed. Just so we’re even.” He finishes capturing your lips with his, the words next time circling on your head on repeat.
You kiss him back eagerly, wanting to be lost forever in the warmth of the two of you together, because it’d finally happened, you’d finally gotten your Ben.
Your fingers scratch against the back of his head softly as you gaze up into his bright green eyes. You couldn’t believe it, after all these years he was yours, your best friend and now the man you love with all your heart. Your entire chest soars with emotion, smile stretching across your face so wide that you knew it probably wasn’t attractive but you couldn’t stop. You were so blissfully happy for the first time in years and you wanted to share that happiness with him the rest of your life.
“What?” Ben smiles down at you almost tenderly, so different than the way he looked when it wasn’t the two of you. One of his hands strokes the curve of your hip to bring your leg up to wrap around his waist the other brushes your wild tangles from your face, tracing the dips and curves of your cheek and jaw with a fingertip as if he wishes to commit each one to memory. He touches you with a reverence that you’d never imagine possible, a gentleness that is so different than Soldier Boy that it takes your breath away, like you’re a marble statue and he wishes to understand your beauty.
You move both of your hands to cup his cheeks feeling the wonderful scratch of stubble against the smooth skin, smile still firmly in place. And you finally say the three words that have haunted you since you were children. “I love you.”
Ben blinks. “What?”
“I love you Ben.” Your heart thuds madly in your chest remembering the past 24 hours when he made you feel special and loved, just how you’d imagined it so many times.
You didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop smiling, ever be able to stop feeling so warm as if you were catching fire.
Ben doesn’t move, his muscles tensing.
“Ben?” You’re still smiling, hoping that he’ll say it back, expecting that. Because how could he not? How could he not and be so caring and attentive? How could he make love to you like that, hold you close, take care of you after, dance with you, buy you a thoughtful gift, and take you out for your birthday each year and not love you? How could he look at you like you were the only person in the world and not feel the same way?
“I-“ He looks at you earnestly eyes soft in the morning light, his touch warm against your cheek, as if drinking you in. "I-" But then the softness in his green eyes is gone replaced by a familiar hardness that makes the warm feeling evaporate in your chest. Ben glances at the alarm clock on your bedside table. “Fuck is that the time?”
“What?” You ask confused by the change.
“I have a meeting with Legend.” He rolls off of you, pulling his face from your hands, and out of bed making it buck and shudder, not embarrassed by his nakedness. It was like he suddenly needed to be as far away from you as possible, and it was like someone dropped a bucket of ice water over your head.
You sit up, clutching the blankets to your chest in confusion. He moves around the room trying to find his clothes where you practically ripped them off his body last night.
“You do? I thought you just had the premiere tonight?”
Ben never scheduled things the same day as a premiere. He liked to spend the early part of the day drinking and imbibing in whatever he wanted so he didn’t have to be sober when he got there. He didn’t like to deal with the reporters, fans, and other people sober. Honestly, you didn't either, but you'd rather acquire a buzz while you were there, rather than before.
But today was different. You were hoping that this time it meant you and Ben would spend the next hours together enjoying one another before you had to go, spending as much time together in bed as possible. Hoping that at the premiere maybe you could announce your relationship, not that the press deserved that, but after all these years you wanted people to know that Ben was yours and you believed that he would be happy to say that you were his. Especially given what he had said before taking you to bed.
“No. I’ve got to talk to him about some shit for that thing in Nicaragua. That fucker Stan is gonna be there-“ Ben walks around the room picking up articles of clothing and refusing to make eye contact with you.
“Are you sure? I thought we could go to that diner on the corner and get some breakfast.“ You try to catch his eye, but Ben turns away as if he's looking for his shoes, hard to believe given the fact that they were sitting in the opposite direction. "You really liked it last time-"
“Sorry baby I can’t.”
The nickname “baby” is like taking a bullet to the chest.  Ben never called you that, Sweetheart yes, Doll, yes, but never baby. It was reserved for the other women. The endless cycle of women that Ben bedded and then never talked to again. It was his way of putting distance between them and him and you knew that better than anyone. And the fact that he called you that made uncertainty pulse in the back of your throat. You try to shake it off and try again.
“Oh well. You’re still picking me up for the premiere right? We always go together-“
“I’m not sure how long the meeting will run so I’ll see you there.” He won’t meet your eye as he pulls up his pants, the harsh sound of his zipper like a slap in the face.
“But Ben-“ Your start to say, your heart sinking.
“I gotta fucking go.” Ben snaps.
“Oh, Okay.”
He looks in your general direction one more time, not quite meeting your eyes, and not apologizing, but then he turns and leaves the room, not even taking the time to put on his shirt or his shoes.
What just happened?
When you finally force yourself to get out of bed to go to the bathroom, you see your reflection in the mirror, hair a tangled mass, lips bright red and swollen from Ben, and the prominent mark he left behind in the shadow of your jaw that marked you as his.
As you stand there examining your reflection, the pain of his rejection hits you all over again, causing you to crumble against the counter, hands tightening so hand in the marble vanity that it comes apart in your hands.
You weren't sure if it was a rejection, rather it was the abruptness of how he left that scared you. How easily he slipped back into the façade of Soldier Boy after spending the entire night with you and making you believe that every moment was special.
The memory of last night sends a wave of warmth through your body, goosebumps prickling against your skin. But this time a cold shock of the way he left strikes your heart.
Maybe he really did have a meeting. But then why did he have to leave immediately after I told him that I loved him?
The memory of how happy you were in that moment makes you cry harder, when you told him the one thing you'd longed to for so long, while he looked at you with so much love that it made you feel more happy than you ever had.
You knew that Ben had a difficult time expressing that and feelings in general, but the way he acted last night at dinner and after when he made love to you, spoke greater than that. He had to love you, had to care about you.
Didn't he?
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"Indigo over here!"
"Indigo who are you with tonight?"
"Indigo what do you have to say about the rumors of you and Noir being in a relationship?"
The questions are coupled with flashes of brilliant light as you wave and force a wide smile on the red carpet. Tonight Legend had insisted that you wear the new supe suit he had designed for you, the one that didn't require a hood and the only thing that hid your identity was a black eye mask that looked suspiciously like the red one Countess wore.
But you weren't focused on that, or the reporters, all you could think of was Ben.
He hadn't called and hadn't answered any of the three phone calls that you placed to his apartment at the time you guessed he would be home getting ready. You even left messages, but he still never called.
Each minute you stayed away from him you could feel the crack in your heart growing wider and wider. You still didn't understand why he did that, why he left as soon as you said the words you wished to for so long.
You had felt like a weight had lifted from your chest when you said them, wanted to live in the warmth that followed as you gazed up at the man you loved finally able to let him know how you felt.
And then he'd run away.
You'd spent the rest of the time before the premiere trying to convince yourself that it was a coincidence, that maybe he really did have a meeting with Stan and Legend about Nicaragua. But you wondered why you weren't told about it.
Stan had been making such a big deal about it, about what it meant to finally have supes help in the military. Not to mention Stan usually liked having you at those kind of meetings, because you were able to keep Ben calm.
So then that begged the questions: Why did Ben lie? Why did he run away?
As you weave your way through the crowded lobby of the movie theater you spot Ben up ahead, his back was to you, but then you freeze halfway to him. His muscular arm is wrapped around Countess's waist, pulling her into his side so tightly that her free hand is resting on the front of his supe suit in the middle of his chest where you had pressed a kiss to hours ago. He leans down to whisper into her ear and she laughs, before whispering something back that makes Ben's hand squeeze her hip.
All of a sudden you're transported back to your 16th birthday, when Ben showed up with Missy Callahan, who flaunted him right under your nose. But this is worse.
It's worse because you can't think of anything else but last night, when Ben kissed you, held you close, made you feel more loved and appreciated than you ever had. When he made every moment you spent together feel special, when he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.
Tears build behind your eyes as you stand there staring at them, all the other patrons passing by in shades of multicolored dresses and suits, with the sound of Countess's laughter echoing in your ears.
When Ben and Countess walk towards the theater you follow, hoping to catch his eye, wishing that he would look at you. They choose their seats in the front row, Countess sitting down on Ben's left, and just as you try to sit on Ben's right, Gunpowder slides into the seat on Ben's right, your usual seat.
"I was actually going to sit there." You say, and this time Ben looks away from Countess to see you for the first time. You wait to see some kind of recognition in his eyes, see some semblance of the man you woke up with in your bed, but you see none of the warmth he had earlier.
He looks indifferent, and the frustration and anger makes tears burn behind your eyes, but you keep them down.
"Sorry Indigo. The director told me to sit here because I'm in the movie." Gunpowder shrugs, but he doesn't quite meet your eyes.
Each time this had happened in the past Ben would shove either Gunpowder or Countess out of the seat so you could sit next to him, even though he hated that you usually mocked whatever movie it was endlessly. But this time Ben does nothing, only sits there.
How can he do this? How can he act like nothing happened between us? How-
The next thought is lost in another wave of emotion that crashes over your head, but you refuse to cry in front of Countess, who is the only one really looking at you. Ben's eyes are on you, but they're cold, unyielding, nothing like the soft clover they were last night when he took you to bed and made you feel special.
"Ben can we talk?" You ask.
"I don't want to miss the premiere." He replies, taking a swig from the glass full of scotch in the cupholder between him and Gunpowder.
"I think this is more important-" You begin to say.
"You should find a seat. The movie is starting." Countess interrupts with a smirk, running her hand up Ben's muscular arm where it lays on the arm between their chairs. You watch the drag of her hand and you feel like the sixteen year old girl in the monstrosity of tulle watching the boy you loved dance with another girl, who made you feel ugly and fat.
You hadn't felt like that girl in a long time, especially not in the last 24 hours when Ben made you feel beautiful and sexy in the best way. The memories of the time you spent together flash through your mind. When each time he moaned your name made you proud to know that you could do that to him, that you could cause him to fall apart, that you could leave your mark on him, make him be lost in you the way that you were lost in his every caress.
Ben doesn't say anything as the commercials begin to play behind you on the large screen, only sits there allowing Countess to touch him.
"Um- yeah. I guess I should." You whisper, swallowing the ball of emotion before shuffling away to find a seat. It's several rows back, in the aisle away from them, next to someone who smells like they've bathed in whiskey.
And damn it all it does is remind you of Ben. Your eyes don't leave him and Countess where they sit and each time you watch them whisper and hear her giggle you feel yourself sink lower and lower into the pit of despair.
Finally when the movie is over you try to chase after Ben, to corner him because you want to know why he's doing this, why he's acting this way, why he's finally allowing Countess to have him the way that she always tried to in the past. The exact thing that he and you mocked her for late at night when the two of you were talking at your apartment. Ben hated her almost as much as you did, or you thought he did.
But he expertly avoids you, like he knows you're following him, given his super-hearing it didn't seem that far from the truth. You follow him through the theater and into the banquet hall where the afterparty is occurring, ignoring the clinking of glasses, the soft music from the band on the stage, and the laughter coming from the people around you who are too drunk already to remember any of this.
Something you wish you were, drunk that is. You didn’t want to forget last night, you just wanted to know why Ben was acting this way. You didn't want forget the way he touched you, the way he felt, the way he made everything else melt away so that it was just the two of you, exactly what you had longed for. You wanted to understand.
Because maybe I did misjudge what last night was, but I couldn't have. The memory of this morning before he left blankets your mind in a cocoon of warmth all over again. You don't look at someone like that, hold them close like that, agree that last night was perfect if it was just sex.
The thought made you irrationally angry.
"Indigo." You hear someone say and touch your arm.
"Huh?" You turn to see Dr. Vogelbaum. He was wearing a dark blue suit, perfectly tailored, with a red tie. Very patriotic, but also surprising. He had never seemed the type to want to come to one of these premieres. "Dr. Vogelbaum, I didn't know you were here."
"I thought I'd come and see what all the fuss was about." He smiles tightly. "Would you like to dance?"
"Um-" You look over the crowds of people dancing in the center of the room. You didn't feel like dancing, you still wanted to corner Ben, drag him away to another room where you could ask him what the hell was going on. He'd never done anything like this before, never iced you out even when he was really pissed off, he'd always find you.
So why was this any different? Was he angry? Upset by what I said? Why would that upset him? You think about how happy he looked when you were laying on his chest and how he leaned into your touch. I thought he’d be happy. He was happy up until I said “I love you.” So why would that change anything?
"I don't really feel like dancing-"
"Please, oblige me. A woman as beautiful as you shouldn't be here alone." Vogelbaum smiles as he pulls you onto the dance floor, ignoring your protests.
You begin to sway back and forth to the song, but everything feels wrong. It makes you think of last night, when Ben held you close and finally kissed you for the first time while your song played. And now this entire night feels like a mistake, last night feels like a mistake, everything that's happened the past forty years feels like a mistake.
He spins you away from him, and as you turn you see Ben. You didn't realize that he was standing on the edge of the dance-floor watching you and Vogelbaum. His arm is still wrapped around Countess, who is practically attached at the hip, talking with another woman in a long blue dress in front of her. You watch his jaw tighten as he takes in Vogelbaum’s hand placement, a dark look flashing in his eyes, but just as you try to identify it, Countess drags her hand up the front of his suit, grabbing his attention, and goes on tiptoe to whisper something in his ear.
How could I have been so stupid?  You think to yourself watching him drop his gaze to her and smile. The thought makes tears burn against your eyes. You couldn't understand, couldn't understand why he was doing this, ignoring you and getting friendly with Countess. And you couldn't understand how he could shift from hot to cold so suddenly, how he could act like you were the only person he saw to not even looking at you, refusing to speak to you, acting cold and indifferent. Ben had never once done that to you, had never once acted that way, even when he was mad.
Vogelbaum pulls you back into his chest, but the way his body feels against yours is wrong. "He's quite the flirt isn't he?"
"Huh?" You look up from his tie.
"Soldier Boy." He's watching them over your head, but you don't want to look at them anymore, you don't want to watch Ben with Countess and feel ugly, feel like you weren't enough, feel like the girl who only had one friend and a mother she could never please.
"Yeah." You mutter.
"Legend mentioned that you were thinking about retiring." He continues oblivious to your current state.
The mention of your plan to leave makes you remember it. You hadn't thought about it since Ben picked you up for dinner the night before, when you had been drinking and finally decided to leave, to walk away from everything and do something for yourself.
And now you wished you had. You wished that you had slammed the door in Ben's face when he came to get you last night, wished that you had told him that you were leaving, and wished that you had been strong enough to say no to him. The memories of last night come back to you, how it felt to kiss him for the first time, how happy you were because you believed he loved you as much as you loved him, how he cared about your first time being special-
The tears are so close to falling now that your jaw is  clenched together so tight that you think you hear the crunch of your teeth cracking.
"Yes. I'm retiring." You respond.
"Well, if you're looking for a change of pace I might have a job for you."
"I'm not really a scientist-"
"It wouldn't be a science job and I think you should come to the lab this week-"
"The last time I was in a lab, all this supe shit started." You snap before you stop yourself. "Forgive me for not wanting to have that happen again."
"It's not an experiment." He continues to sway the two of you back and forth. "I've been working on a project with Stan and we both thought that you could help us."
"How?"
"Well we've been focusing on the next generation of supes and what that will look like-"
"Next generation?"
"Yes. And I know someone that might benefit from meeting you. I've been working very closely with him and he needs a strong figure in his life, you have some things in common-"
"I'm not interested in being a babysitter."
"Why don't you just come by this week and meet him? I'm sure you'd hit it off-"
"I said I wasn't interested." You pull yourself from his arms. "I'm done with all of this."
"Indigo-" He reaches for your wrist.
"If you touch me again, I'm going to rip off your arm." You force a smile knowing that the cameras are still flashing, and say it low enough so that he is the only one that can hear.
Vogelbaum immediately moves back from you, putting as much space as he can and you turn back to where you saw Ben standing a few minutes ago, but he's gone.
You stand there in the middle of the dance floor for a minute, not sure what to do, so you decide to go to the bathroom to collect your thoughts. And you immediately regret your decision.
Before the door of the bathroom opens all the way you know, call it a feeling or a psychic premonition, but you do.
You wish you were wrong, but you knew Ben better than anyone, or at least you thought you did.
You can feel it in the air, hear the rapid beating of their hearts and the loud moans, smell the sour odor of sweat, but you're still not prepared for what's waiting for you. Countess's hands are braced on the white marble of the sink in front of her, Ben's hand fisted tightly in her hair, pulling her head back to where his face is buried in her throat, her own face contorted in an expression of pure ecstasy, with each snap of Ben's hips as he crushes her against the sink.
The bathroom door slams shut loudly behind you, drawing Ben's gaze to where you stand, your hands clenched tightly into fists, the skin pulled tight over your knuckles. He freezes and for a moment you think he looks sorry, but then it's gone, fading into the hardened expression he's had since you told him that you loved him.
You don't know what to feel, anger, frustration, heartbreak, and rage all form a white hot ball in the pit of your stomach. You have the sudden urge to throw up and also burn the entire building down to the ground, but you can't move, can't look away from where they stand.
"Baby why'd you stop." Countess gasps, reaching back with a hand for Ben, but he steps away from her, to zip up his pants. Countess finally looks over at where you're standing and smirks. "Oh hey y/n. I didn't know you were here."
Her face is flushed red, almost the same color of her hair as she reaches down for her pants and drags them back up her body. The proud look in her eyes makes you snap your jaw together to fight the urge to rip her in half.
“There are private rooms for that.” You keep your voice as monotone as possible, pushing down the heartbreak and the anger that burns against your skin.
“It’s much more fun when anyone can walk in. Don’t you think so Ben?” Countess reaches for Ben, but he shrugs her off.
You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you taste blood, trying very hard not to lose control. You prided yourself on that, you hadn’t lost control in all your years as a supe.
Ben doesn't say anything.
“Get out.” You snap.
“I don’t think I will. We were in the middle of something-“ Countess's sultry smile widens. "Maybe you should leave so we can fini-"
Her body flies forward towards you, until her throat is clutched tightly between your right hand. “I’ve never liked you Countess. Other than a flash of light you're pretty worthless. Your powers the only thing that make you special, and I know that you need both of your hands to use them, right?" Your hand tightens on her throat and you know the next day she'll have bruises.
I should just kill her right now. Who would miss her?
She gasps for air, clawing against your hand, eyes wide. She'd never seen you lose control before, never seen you use your powers quite like this, and the fear in her eyes makes you feel better.
“So I suggest you get out. Before I rip them off and make you eat them.”  You snarl before throwing her in the direction of the door behind you. She stumbles forward a step, placing a hand against the bathroom door as she catches her breath. When she turns back to look at you, her eyes are flashing with malice, but you can still see the pride under it all.
“Well I’ll see you two later. Hopefully we can finish what we started.” Countess smirks at you, recovering as she saunters out.
It takes an amazing amount of willpower not to drag her back into the room and rip her head off.
Ben adjusts his suit, not meeting your gaze. And for a second you think he looks guilty, but it’s gone as soon as you see it. His ridiculous helmet is laying on the floor next to him, probably took it off before-
Your jaw clenches together remembering what you walked in on.
“Ben why are you doing this?”  You say, composing your voice as much as you can. You force yourself to look him in the eye, you want him to see how hurt you are.
“Doing what?” He crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow.
"You’re pushing me away, avoiding me, and acting like last night didn’t mean anything-"
"It didn’t.” He states. Ben's jaw is clenched tight, shoulders tense, as he begins to slip back into the façade of Soldier Boy that he adopted after you both got the serum.
Tears burn against your eyes at his sharp tone. You let out a shaky breath. "I don’t believe you. You don’t act that way, kiss me, hold my hand, make love like that and then pretend it never happened.”
“We didn’t make love, we fucked.” He snaps eyes blazing. “Don’t turn this into something that it’s not.”
 “I’m not just talking about the sex. I’m talking about dinner, the dancing, remembering my birthday, getting me pearls because you remembered I lost mine, the fact that you had them play the song we danced to when we were 18-“
“So?”
“Why are you acting like you didn’t do any of those things?”
“I’m not saying I didn’t do them. I’m saying that you’re being damn hormonal and reading into it.”
“I’m not being hormonal!” You snap. “Are you really telling me that you did all of those things just to get into my pants and that you don’t feel anything for me? That what I said to you this morning meant nothing to you? After everything we’ve been through-“
“Everything we’ve been through?” Ben spits, suddenly angry. “All I know is for the last 40 years you’ve been getting in my way. You think I care about you? I don’t care about anyone! I’m Soldier Boy. I’m America’s first fucking superhero. And I could never care about someone like you. You’re pathetic. You’re always here, fucking with my decisions, following me around like a fucking lovesick puppy, standing in my damn way with those fucking stars in your eyes, trying to remind me of who I was before and I wish you would just fuck off!”
Your own anger surges up to push away the heartbreak at his harsh words. “You say that I’m always here, but it was your idea for us to do this. You did this to me Ben. I’m here because you wanted me to be, because you needed me. And it’s you that keeps showing up at my apartment. I don’t make you come over!”
The memory of the night he asked you to come with him rises at the back of your mind. You remember how happy you were to go with him because you thought it was as close as he would get to admitting that he loved you, and you had hoped that if you went with him it meant that he wanted to be more. You were not remembering wrong, you remembered exactly what he said that night, you knew that he acted like he needed you. So why was he lying now?
“I never wanted you here.” He takes a step forward, green eyes hardening. “I don’t fucking need you or anyone else. I’m not a pussy. I’m a man.”
Your teeth clench together in anger and frustration. “I don’t believe you. You say that you know all my tells when I’m lying, but I know yours too. So just tell me the truth!”
“That is the fucking truth. Are you too stupid to understand that? I don’t care about you, I never have!”
“Then why did you kiss me?”
Ben freezes.
“I didn’t initiate that kiss, you kissed me! You were the one that started whatever the hell happened last night!”
“So?”
“You’ve heard me talk about what I want. You addressed it at the table last night. You know that I want more than one night, you know that I want love, that I was willing to leave to find those things. I was ready to walk away from all of this Ben and then you fucked with my head. Did you kiss me and do those things because you thought it would keep me here with you? Because you can’t stand the thought of being alone?”
“I wouldn’t give a single fuck if you left. If you want to go then go. I won’t miss you and I’m not stopping you.”
 “I don’t believe you and I don’t understand why you’re doing this, why you’re trying to push me away and act like you don’t care about me-" You shake your head in frustration.
Ben advances on you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly you know there will be bruises. Ben never touched you when he was angry, sure he’d stare you down, but Ben never did anything to harm you. It’s why you were never afraid of him, because Ben didn't want to hurt you. Even this morning you remember how worried he'd looked when you said you were sore, when he thought that it mean he hurt you. Ben cared about you. You knew he did.
But for him to do this was shocking and you can’t fight the shudder of fear that creeps along your spine.
“You mean nothing to me.” He growls. “You’re just another woman with a warm pussy. That’s all you are. I fucked you because you needed someone to and I thought it might as well be me. I don’t care about you. I never did. And I could never love some one like you. So get the fuck out of my way.” Ben pushes you from him so harshly that you fall back against the wall.
The memory of what your mother shouted at you the night you told her you were going with Ben settles over your mind.
“You really think that disappointment will ever love you? Care about you? You are nothing to him, just another plaything. And the day he finally tosses you away, don’t bother coming back here.”
Your mother's words were harsh, cut to the quick. You hated to admit it, but she was right. You understood that now, understood that the last forty years and all the years of your friendship had been a lie.
Ben didn't care about you, probably never did, he just saw you as a tool for his own amusement, and his harsh words were enough to make you realize that the boy you knew was gone and enough to jolt you into the new harsh reality.
Your hand flicks and Ben's body flies into the concrete wall on the other side of the bathroom hard enough to crack the solid cement. You find your feet, rising to your full height, hands glowing bright purple. The entire room trembles with the force of your anger, the mirrors shatter on the bathroom wall, raining down glass and metal onto where Ben sits stunned on the tile that has begun to crack and split with your display of power.
“That night you came to me I chose you. I chose you, Ben. I left everything behind for you because you asked me to. And I regret it. I regret every moment I have wasted caring about you and taking care of you. I have made excuses for you my entire life. To my family, to society, to your damn team, and to myself. I have stood by you through all of this and I never complained because you were my friend. I was here before and after you decided to take the serum, when your father broke you, when your mother died, when you needed someone to sit with you because you couldn’t take the silence alone, but not anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t be the voice of reason or your fucking babysitter and I can’t be your damn conscience. I shouldn’t have to. You are a man after all, so do it yourself.” The tears are falling freely now, searing against your skin as they trickle down your cheeks. “I tried to cut you some slack because you were my friend Ben, and I loved you.” Your voice breaks when you use the past tense. “But maybe that’s my fault, I romanticized you. I shouldn’t have but I did. I ignored so many things because I loved you but now, I’m fucking done.” You reach up to grab the pearl necklace around your throat, the one that you thought was ridiculous to wear with the supe suit, but the one you kept on because you wanted to remember last night and rip it off, sending the pearls rolling in every direction.
Because now you just wanted to forget it all, forget your friendship, forget the years you spent together, forget all the nights he spent in your bed, forget last night, and forget him.
Ben stands from the ground, brushing off his supe suit and for a second you think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t.
“I can’t do this with you anymore. I can’t stand by and watch you do this to yourself, embrace whatever the fuck kind of person you are now. I won’t. I never want to see you ever again. And the next time you touch me, I’ll kill you.” You turn to go, but then you stop short of the door. “You once told me that you never wanted to be your father, you wanted to be better than him. Funny. After all this time you still became him.”  You spit.
You throw open the door and storm out as the mindless drone of people talking, glasses clinking, and buzz of music settle over your ears. But you don’t hear it, all you hear is the harsh words of the only man you’d ever loved and the feeling of your heart breaking in your chest.
*******************************************************
A/N: Well this one was very sad and I hate myself for putting the reader through this. Let me know what y'all think :)
Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress
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sakxramxlkii · 6 months
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GENSHIN BOYS FINDING YOUR DIARY ABOUT THEM - HEADCANONS
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You often wrote about your crush in your diary. You didn't believe that he would reciprocate your feelings, so you often found comfort in writing about him in your diary.
On a particular instance however, he was hanging out in your room and you had got up to prepare some snacks for him. While you were away, he looked to your blanket and noticed a little pink book semi-covered by the blanket. Curious, he picked it up and read it.
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CYNO
- Shocked and intrigued.
- Would probably only ever bring it up if you banter together and it subtly suggests this instance.
-pretends to not know you like him when you come back with the snacks
-dw though if you find out, he's nervous/panicked too, he just doesn't wanna show it pookie ;)
-has a really bad joke or pun when you both banter and you find out
"I'm sorry. I couldn't resist the opportunity to 'snoop' at you. You're simply too fine to just stay in the 'shadows' and 'hide away' like that."
ALHAITHAM
- intrigued too, but mainly calm. He'd already suspected that you liked him.
- he'll probably just keep reading when you come in and catch him.
- bro just reads like it's any ordinary book, silent and focused 😭. You better hope you didn't narrate a whole story/fanfic of you both, or a vivid dream depicted in detail because hell of lord, he's going to read through it like it's written by Shakespeare. 💀
- probably will just spend more time with you after that and wait till you directly confess to him. He doesn't know romance stuff ight 😞
"I know." He reads a book while he hardly gives you any eye contact. "You wrote it in a diary." The silence and awkwardness fills the air. Your face was flushing knowing he had read through it. Alhaitham doesn't really know how romantic gestures work, but his cheeks were slightly tinted. You decided to break the silence by asking him out. "Sure, but if you let me finish reading that diary of yours."
CHILDE
- intrigued like everyone else. Excited knowing you feel the same way.
- brings it up the moment you walk in with the snacks
-will poke fun and tease you at how 'cheesy' and red you are.
-he's not missing an opportunity to just tease and ask you out.
"My my! What do we have here?~ Seems like someone has a bit crush on this harbinger! So...how about a date in a fancy restaurant located at Fontaine? My treat of course~"
ZHONGLI
- Zhongli is a gentleman, he would never snoop. In this case, let's re-write it a little. He would be trying to put the book to a shelf to help you keep organized. He'd unknowingly read the book for the contents to place it to it's respective place until he slowly realizes what it was.
- Like Alhaitham, he suspected you liked him in the first place. He's been in this world for so long, so it wasn't hard to recognise. He was calm too, but a little shocked reading through your diary.
- he's a respective man! He would probably read one or two pages out of curiosity and stops there for your privacy. He'd then put it back to your shelf.
- honest. When you come back, he'd straight up tell you he saw it on accident and that he was sorry.
- avoids embarrassing/teasing you, SUCH A GENTLEMAN GAH...
- prolly would subtly confess that he likes you too but if you seem like you wanted it to be a secret, he drops it and pretends like he doesn't know until you are ready enough to confess.
"My apologies. I was trying to put your diary back to a shelf and had read the contents unknowingly. I read the contents because i wasn't sure which category to place it in." He then takes a sip of his tea you poured him a while ago. "Though...I do wish to admit that I feel as if I may be able to reciprocate those feelings of yours. If you would give me a chance, that is."
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12am rn. I will edit more ltr but gnnnnn i'm tired
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sarucane · 5 months
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Why was finding Stede's letter so important for Ed?
Real talk, I adore the season 2 finale and to me the rush is worth it to have a safe ending place. But this episode is so overpacked, and Ed goes through such an incredible character arc and I love it, so here goes my rant on why he burst into tears and screamed at the forest when he read Stede's letter.
Ed is all goddamn over the place in the first part of this episode, tossed about by his insecurity and baffled by what is safe and what is unsafe. He has a voiceover about how amazing being a fisherman is, then ends up regressing into childhood trauma when another father figure freaks out over dinner. Ed doesn't even choose to leave the fisherman fantasy: the fantasy gets shattered and he gets fired in a high-speed parallel of Stede trying to go home (return to a safe, simple life) and finding he doesn't belong there in S1E10. At least Ed does manage to not drown in self-hatred on the way out.
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And then Ed returns to the pirate safe space, only to find that it's been invaded and taken over. And that his selfishness, the low self-esteem that distorted his view of reality and his relationship, may have had real consequences for someone he loves (another parallel with Stede, this time early season 2). Ed may have been off pretending to be a "dirty old fisherman" while Stede died.
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What was safe is now unsafe. All Ed has left is himself--so he really looks at himself.
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At the fact that the kraken is always there, no matter what clothes he wears or how deeply he tries to bury it. He can fight that and run from it, and end up losing everything. Or he can embrace it, and figure out what comes next. Be what he was made by his past, however dark that past was.
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But Ed's past wasn't all darkness. Ed walks onto the beach and gets a letter from the past, and suddenly there is something safe again in his world. Something worth killing for.
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Ed first started falling for Stede through the stories Stede built around himself, stories formed by boastful encounters with Izzy, muttered hallucinations, and trinkets decking his ship. Back then, Ed didn't believe he himself was a good person, didn't believe he could have friends. But Stede told him stories about friendship and treasure maps, and Ed took these to heart and told stories to match, and Ed found truth through the fiction.
Then Stede left, and those stories fell away for Ed. Ed embraced the story of the kraken, of Blackbeard. Instead of a story about love or survival, he wrote a story about an impossible bird, a raiding record, and a treacherous crew--and mourned a story about lost love.
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But Stede kept writing stories. He poured himself into his letters, poured his heart into sustaining his connection to Ed in spite of all the obstacles.
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Ed didn't believe in this story after Stede came back, even though he wanted to. He kept emotional distance from Stede, avoided risks, and bailed after two days. Because Ed didn't trust that their bond was solid, that their story was something that could survive Ed's darkness, insecurities, and damage. Didn't trust that what Stede said this time, he had truly thought about, and meant with all his heart.
Stede didn't get how insecure Ed was in all this, because Stede was just so sure of Ed, and of their love. Stede believed in his story with his whole soul, and Stede's stories have a way of creating reality--after all, the whole crew of the Revenge became "real boys." But he couldn't figure out how to communicate this to Ed, to let Ed believe it too.
And then, at a moment where his identity is fractured and re-forming, Ed finds this letter. And just like that, there's a solid ground of story beneath his feet.
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Because there was, in fact, solid ground beneath his feet all along.
Ed's and Stede's relationship, like all relationships, is hard. But they formed a real bond of love in season 1, and like Mary Bonnet said, being in love is easy. Ed can trust it--like he did before, but for real this time.
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Ed's figuring this out ruddy late. He and Stede didn't communicate these things to each other when they had the chance, and now the chance may have slipped away. So now, Ed yells his feelings at the world and runs off to try to find his person.
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When Ed finds Stede again, he doesn't hold back anything. He doesn't hesitate to kill, and he doesn't hesitate to drop his sword when he reaches Stede. They're finally face to face, in every way. Finally balanced, and seeing each other clearly, and able to communicate.
And, for the first time since he and Stede reached each other this season--for the first time since his vision in the Gravy Basket really--Ed is utterly vulnerable.
And entirely safe.
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judysxnd · 8 months
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Hi it's me again
I have an idea for pedro×reader
The reader is an actress and she is going on tour for her new movie so the videos came out of the two of them joking around and her Co star putting his hands on her waist so pedro gets jealous and call her or maybe show up to her hotel
I debated a long time to find a co-star. I didn't want someone too young, but not too close to Pedro, I wasn't happy. So I ended up putting Y/c/n (your co-star's name) Y/c/l/n (your co-star's last name).
I wrote this a long time ago, and I re read it before publishing it. I saw I rushed the end a lot, so I had to write more. I don’t really think I did more but it really felt rush. ANYWAY. Enjoy.
PS: I do not forget about the requests, I already said before that I was taking my time writing them, and that I would write them by the inspirations and ideas, not by date. Also, this past month I was trying to write most of them before publishing progressively because I didn’t want to be overwhelmed by the requests, but it’s really hard, I still have like 6 requests! Don’t worry I’m on it! The requests are still open. Thank you for everything!!
———————————————————————————
"Today we're in the company of Y/n L/n and Y/c/n Y/c/l/n for their latest movie coming out on the 1st of August." The interviewer said to the camera. "Hi" she said this time to the both of you.
"Hey" you said in unison
"How are you doing today?"
"We're great" you said with a big smile "How are you doing?"
"I'm great thank you!" She looked at her papers. "So.." she looked up at the both of you. "Pretty excited about the premiere?"
"Oh yes!" you enthusiastically said, moving your arms up, almost hitting your co-star, making him laugh
"A little too much, I am scared for my life" he joked, pretending to be scared and moving a bit away from you
"Oh come on" you laughed, hugging him from the side "why are you acting like I hit you" you were both laughing. You pretended to hold his neck
"She is very nice and gentle with people" your co-star said to the camera. Everyone was laughing
"Okay let's be serious for a second" you said, sitting straight on your chair
"So yeah you seem pretty excited" the lady said laughing
"Yeah" you chuckled "yeah" you said again more seriously
"The story is set in strong environments, was it hard to film in those different places?"
"For me it was in Egypt." Your co-star started to answer. "It was too hot"
"Too hot?" You asked confused "like the negative temperatures we had in Canada were nothing?" you chuckled
"all of them were challenging, but it was better in Canada then in Egypt"
"oh hell no, it was better in Egypt, living in the cold out there, no thank you"
"It's easier to get warm than to get cold"
"true, but it's too cold outside you can't do anything but stay inside"
"Same with both" you co-star kept going
"We're having a huge debate" the interviewer added in between
"no, you can do things outside, also you wear less clothes, you can tan, eat outside and swim, you know, just little pleasures" you listed "I can add more things if you want" you said, turning a bit towards your co-star.
"no no I think we get it" he laughed "you win"
"as usual" he tilted his head
"sure sure" he said patting your thigh "what makes you feel better"
"oh shut up" you both laughed
"You seem to have a great chemistry, did you hit it off right away?" your co-star put his harm on the back of your chair, making him turn a bit towards you. You looked at each other.
"Yeah I think so" he said
"What do you mean 'I think so'?" you laughed
"Well, we met at the read-through, we had to get into our characters right away, at first we mostly filmed during the time"
"oh yeah yeah"
"and we were simply like filming-eating-sleeping" you chuckled "so we didn't have time like to really know each other at first"
"yes that's true"
"I see" the interviewer said "but it didn't change anything for the chemistry in the movie?"
"no not really" you said" we're professionals" you joked. Your co-star was looking at you, eyeing your face. And that's when he couldn't take it anymore. Pedro closed his computer, rolling on the bed to get up. He sighed, then left the bedroom.
He missed you like crazy. You left two weeks ago on tour for your new movie and he was struggling. While you were filming the movie, he was at home, and while you were finally home, he had to leave to film too. You were both busy, and the only thing that kept you in touch was mostly texting and some phone calls here and there. When you both got back, three days later you were already gone on tour.
And now Pedro was home alone, missing you, and seeing you being close to your co-star like that made him pretty jealous to say the least. He isn't able to make you laugh, to touch you, and he can? That's the perks of being actors you might say, and yes that's true. But sometimes it doesn't make it easier.
Once Pedro was in the living room, he grabbed his phone, and tried to call you. It was ringing for a long time, he didn't think he would get you, but you finally picked up.
"Hi baby" your soft voice made his heart beat fast. He wasn't thinking rationally anymore, he had to do something, he couldn't take it anymore.
"Where are you staying for the week?" he quickly said, hoping he could join you, but fearing the answer, like you would be moving in another country for the next interviews, or that you would just say no.
"hum, wait I don't know the name of the hotel" he could hear you get up. You were probably in bed. "It's the Hestia hotel, actually not far from the airport" you paused "why? are you planning to come?" Pedro heard the excitement in your voice, reassuring him a bit.
"Yes, I don't have anything planned for the next week and I miss you so I wanted to join you, if you want to"
"of course I want to! I miss you too much" your voice gave a hint of sadness. "It's been some hectic days here, and it's been too long without you"
"tomorrow I'm here"
"good" there was a pause
"I'll see you tomorrow cariño"
"can't wait" he knew you were smiling "I love you"
"I love you too" you both hang up, going back onto your lives. Pedro already felt better after the call. He was getting very excited. The next hours were going to pass slowly as he couldn't wait to finally be with you.
Hours went by and Pedro managed to fall asleep pretty quickly, but moved a lot during the night. He woke up at 6am and left to the airport around 7:30am to get on his plane an hour later. He arrived a few hours later. As he was walking towards the exit, he noticed someone he knew. It was you. Neither of you said anything about picking him up at the airport, but you couldn't wait, even for just a few minutes more.
He stopped when he saw you, relieved. You were there, standing in front of him. He dropped his luggage when you ran to him. He picked you up in his arms and held you tight.
"finally" he muttered. Once he decided to let go, he kissed you passionately, his hands on your cheeks. It felt surreal. You saw it in his eyes when he looked at every detail on your face, as he still held it. Your hands were on his waist, and you brought him closer to hug him again. You left the airport hand in hand, feeling nothing but happiness. You were finally reunited, and it was going to be at least longer than before.
“What made you come so suddenly anyway?” You asked as you both entered the car.
“Hum, I just missed you a lot” he half-lied. It was true, he missed you too much, it was unbearable, but he also couldn’t stand having someone else touch you and be close to you like your co-star did.
Pedro thought he got away with it, but when he turned to look at you, you were eyeing him. You do know him too well.
“I appreciate it but I can feel that’s not the only reason” you stared at each other
“How’s Y/C/N?” He tried to change the subject
“Oh he’s fine, we were about to have a little dinner together”
“Just the two of you?” He shyly asked, feeling his confidence running away. You started to drive back to the hotel.
“Yes, and then we were thinking about heading to bed you know to have a little fun” he looked at you with big wide eyes. “So that’s the other reason” you joked
“What?”
“My big jealous man” you said caressing his chin for a second
“You weren’t really going to go to bed with him, yeah okay I see the sarcasm” he rolled he eyes, looking at the road, avoiding you.
“I’m not cheating on you Pedro”
“I am not doubting you”
“But you flew to another country because you trust me so much”
“I trust you” he immediately looked at you “it’s the others that I don’t trust”
“Like who?”
“Like Y/c/n? I saw the interview, hands on your thighs, the way he looked at you”
“He doesn’t even stand a chance” you joked
“That’s not the problem, he won’t stop”
“He is just being friendly” you looked at him from time to time
“I’m sorry, it’s just- I didn’t get to see you a lot, I really missed you and it drove me crazy seeing this” you put your hand on his thigh
“I know I know, and I missed you more” his heart was beating fast because of nervousness. He hated feeling vulnerable, but especially showing it to you. Jealousy can be perceived badly, like not trusting the person and such, but it’s not true.
Once you arrived at the hotel, you were met with your co-star on your way to your bedroom. He did seem confused and a little sad when you cancelled the dinner with him. But none of you talked about it and decided to move on about that. If he was interested he definitely knew he had no chance now.
The next few days have been perfect. It was getting calmer, and the fact that Pedro was here helped you a lot. You didn't have this anxiety of being away anymore. Pedro wasn’t feeling jealous anymore but he was still watching your co-star from a distance. At the end of the week you were getting nervous because Pedro was about to leave again. But, as a surprise (not really you discussed it), he actually stayed longer. He had nothing to do that couldn't be done on the phone or on the computer, so he stayed for the rest of the tour.
Being in each other’s presence was helping you. He calmed your anxiety, and he was reassured and not jealous anymore.
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270 notes · View notes
joongernaut · 1 year
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hands to yourself
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⇢ pairing(s): johnny suh x reader
⇢ genres: SMUT, established relationship, porn w/o plot basically
⇢ warnings: brief alcohol consumption (reader is not drunk though, everything in this is consensual!), d/s themes, public sex-ish (they don't get caught), vague humiliation kink, some crying, vague brat taming, light degradation, physical restraint, vaginal fingering, oral sex, mouth/throat fucking, dry humping, cumshot
⇢ word count: 3690
⇢ author's note: omg it's been a while since i've wrote for johnny, my beloved. i've actually been sitting on this until i had enough time to re-read and edit and finally wrote out the ending and i like how it came out!🫰🏾 (the way it was supposed to be less than 3k words but whatever moving on-) btw the title is based off the song "hands to yourself" by kyle dion!
The sight in front of you could be described in many ways. But your personal favorite collection of words (you thought it up as you watched your boyfriend get dressed) would have to be ‘temptation on legs’.
You were meeting up with a couple of friends at a casual bar and dance club for the evening and to say that Johnny looked as good as sin would be an absolute understatement.
He always looked good. Johnny was a very handsome man after all, and kept himself properly groomed. But seeing him right now, dressed down in a simple black t-shirt and dark blue jeans with his hair slicked back and his face bare of any makeup, you really couldn't help but marvel at how he could make such a simple style look so put-together and sexy.
Of course, your staring didn't go unnoticed.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Johnny questioned, peeking at you from the corner of his eye as he adjusted and tightened the belt around his waist.
He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he moved around his bedroom to make sure he was ready for tonight. And when he turned his head towards you as you sat atop your shared bed, there you were with a smirk on your face as you blatantly checked him out.
“Like what?” You asked, one leg crossing over the other as you tilted your head to the side innocently. The movement was minuscule, your dress already being on the shorter side so it couldn't have gone up much more, but Johnny’s eyes flickered down at the exposed skin nonetheless before meeting your stare again.
The smirk on your face only widened.
“Like you’re plotting on me.” Johnny replied with a chuckle, turning his attention away from you (much to your dismay) so he could slip his shoes on.
You hummed in response, your lips forming a pout as you looked up towards the ceiling in thought. “And If I said I was…?” Your leg bounced a bit, your eyes looking back down to roam the expanse of Johnny’s broad back and shoulders as he knelt down to tie his shoe laces.
It’s a sight you're used to seeing in a far more intimate state and your thoughts began to wander a bit.
Only a few hours ago, you were clutching onto those same shoulders to keep yourself grounded as Johnny’s lips grazed the most sensitive parts of your body. Your nails dug into the skin of his back as he held you close to his bare chest, almost gently. It was a major contrast from the way his hips met your own, pistoning in and out of your clenching hole to get you to your peak as fast as he could.
Needless to say, it was probably one of your quickest ‘quickie-before-we-leave-the-house’ to date.
“C’mon, I already know what you’re thinking and no,” Johnny spoke up, snapping you out of your thoughts and you finally noticed his presence standing by the bed now, “We gotta go. You can wait until we get back.” He added, cupping the side of your face as his thumb brushed along the apple of your cheek softly.
You narrowed your eyes at him with a pout, hating how he could tell exactly what you were thinking, and he scoffed at the expression before leaning down to kiss it off of your face. “Behave.”
You definitely did not heed Johnny’s warning (not that you took it seriously to begin with) but it was all a part of your plan.
It first started when you had both got into the car.
Johnny was more than okay with being the designated driver between you two for the night so he got into the driver’s seat and made his way to the location of the bar that Mark had sent through text. Only a 13 minute drive, less if there wasn't any traffic or road construction to prolong it.
The first couple of minutes of the car ride went by with the sound of music filling the space as Johnny gave you full reign of the aux cord. Usually you would take this privilege very seriously and curate a particular vibe with your song selections but, with something else in mind, you decided to go with the first random playlist you saw.
Johnny thought nothing of the groovy, sensual song playing at the moment as he hummed along to it. He didn't mind the way your hand had gingerly placed itself on his knee as he steered the wheel. He didn't even budge when you gave the area a small squeeze, an action he would do in your place as well with no sexual undertone to it.
Except your intentions rang clear once your hand slowly traveled upward from Johnny's knee to the inside of his thigh before settling between his legs.
Johnny shot you an almost incredulous look before averting his eyes back to the road quickly. “Didn't I tell you to behave?” He questioned as he adjusted his hold on the wheel. His grip seemed to tighten as he felt your fingertips lightly graze the crotch of his jeans, playing with the zipper idly.
“Yeah, you did but…” You trailed off as you attempted to tug the zipper down, feeling the slight strain of Johnny’s dick against the fabric of his jeans as he started to get a little hard. “Technically, I never agreed to anything.” You watched as his jaw slightly slackened then clenched a second later as you started to drag the zipper down.
You could tell from the action that he was conflicted, thinking about whether to let you continue or not and you almost thought you had won when Johnny allowed you to bring his zipper all the way down.
Before you could make it to the button of his jeans to undo it, however, you were stopped from going any further as he wrapped a hand around your wrist gently and placed it over your lap. “You’re insatiable,” Johnny huffed out with a shake of his head, fixing his pants with one hand before averting his attention back to the road, “Patience, Y/N. Or else.”
You let out a huff of your own before turning your attention back to your phone, swallowing down the taste of defeat yet again.
That had technically been your second warning.
You relented your advances in the car (not without a bratty remark here and there that only amused Johnny further) and made it to the bar without any other incident. You were ‘good’ for the remainder of the drive there.
Now inside of the club was a different story.
Finding Mark was rather easy despite his horrible directions and clear lack of knowledge of the layout of the club, quickly being spotted at the end of the bar on the other side of the room with the rest of the guys. Already having a few shots waiting for you two to arrive you decided to catch up with a couple of your own before attaching yourself to Johnny’s arm.
“I wanna dance.” You said into his ear over the booming music after 30 minutes or so of conversation. Some of the other guys had the same idea as they started to disperse into the crowd with plans of meeting back up within the hour.
“Lead the way, baby.” Johnny said as he looked down at you with a smile, allowing you to tug him by the bicep to the dance floor where the real fun would start.
As soon as you got within the mix of people crowding the dance floor, you turned until your back was pressed flush against Johnny’s chest as he placed his hands gingerly onto your hips.
Nothing out of the ordinary, plenty of the other club-goers were dancing in similar positions and moving along to the music all seemingly in their own little worlds.
It wasn't lost on Johnny that you would be more bold with your touchiness, taking into consideration the nature of your dancing. So, when your arms came up behind you so you could place your hands on the back of his neck as you pressed your ass against him firmly, he simply tightened his hold on your hips and began to sway with your movements.
You circled your hips, he followed. You bent over slightly with an arch in your back, he followed. You ground against him, he ground back. At this point, you were only riling yourself up more the longer you two danced and teased each other. But at least you weren't the only one affected by it.
“Keep it up, baby,” Johnny whispered, his voice going down an octave as he breathed into your ear huskily, “And I promise we won’t make it home.”
A shiver went down your spine at the implication of his words. And then you realized, with satisfaction, that you had him right where you wanted him.
You detached your hands from the back of Johnny’s neck before going to his hands that were still situated on your hips, grasping them as you guided his touch from your sides to the front of your skirt.
Almost in slow motion, you moved his hands down until they reached the bottom of the material where the skirt stopped and your supple thighs began. You crooked your neck back and to the side to get a good look at your boyfriend, meeting his intense stare as you shot him a lazy smirk. “Promise?” You purred, leading his hands between your legs while causing the skirt to inch higher up the closer he got to your center.
Johnny’s eyes flickered around the two of you. This section of the dance floor, much like the rest of the club, had been rather dark despite the dim strobe lights overhead. You were pretty much surrounded by people but they were still unaware of your existence or at least didn't care enough to pay attention to what you were doing.
Yet the mere thought of you so willing and ready to nearly expose yourself, the possibility of people nearby catching you just so Johnny would touch you and feel just how needy you were, made him seethe in anger while simultaneously stirring his cock awake.
It only took a matter of seconds for Johnny to free his hands from you, turning you around to face him with a familiar glint in his eye. “We’re leaving.” He said plainly, the underlying tone in his voice leaving no room for discussion or argument.
That didn't mean you wouldn't retort back, though.
“But we literally just got here,” You pointed out, trying to bite back a smile as Johnny’s eyes narrowed down at you dangerously. “Oh, what? You can't wait?” You taunted him further, knowingly provoking him to react the way you wanted him to.
“Do you really wanna do that? Because I can tell you right now that as soon as we step out of this club, you're gonna get it.” Johnny said, taking a step closer to stare down at you and the action made you a bit nervous as he now towered over you. It reminded you of how easy it was for him to slip into that intimidating role and you couldn't help but feel turned on by it.
“Then let's go.”
Safe to say, no more warnings were going to be given to you. Johnny made it clear that you were to behave yourself and you would get what you wanted, exactly how you wanted it when you got home at the end of the night.
But you didn't listen. And now you were being punished.
The muscles in your arms started to burn the longer Johnny held them above your head with one of his hands, a tight grip around both of your wrists pressing them into the brick wall of the alleyway outside of the club’s back exit. People rarely used it in favor of the front exit or the one at the side and, thankfully, no security was out and about since they were needed more at the entrance and inside of the actual club.
Johnny’s other hand had been between your legs, two fingers deep inside of your pussy at a complete standstill as his thumb idly played with your clit. Every pass over the sensitive bud made you clench around him and squirm, straining against the hold he had on you. It had been well over 20 minutes by now that he had you in this position and you didn't know what ached more, your arms or your core.
“John-Johnny, please–” You tried to speak, only to earn a harsh press against your clit as he cruelly curled his fingers. Johnny found your sweet spot with ease and you gasped at the amount of pressure he applied to it as his thumb began to move over your clit at a quick pace. “Johnny, please what?” He said mockingly, leaning into your face to brush his lips against yours but not enough to kiss you. You whined when he pulled away, chuckling darkly as his fingers started to pump into you unexpectedly fast.
You couldn't help the involuntary movement of your hips as you attempted to fuck yourself on his fingers despite feeling like you wanted to move away with how on edge and overstimulated you were. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening fast from being edged so slowly up until this point. As your orgasm approached closer, you started to babble incoherently.
“You’re gonna make me cum, you’re gonna make me cum! Please, please– fuck!” You nearly screamed out loud when Johnny abruptly took his fingers out of you leaving you empty and your hole clenching around nothing. Your body shook at being edged so close to release once again, the feeling of your orgasm starting to fizzle out enough to make your eyes tear up.
“You didn't listen to me. Why should I listen to you?” Johnny questioned with a quirk of his eyebrow. Your chest heaved slightly as you attempted to slow your breathing, inhaling shakily as Johnny’s fingers slid through your soaked folds with a featherlight touch. It simply wasn't enough.
“M’sorry, okay? Sorry! P-please, I’ll do a-anything!” You pleaded, a few tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. Johnny cooed at this as he wiped away the thin, wet streaks off your cheeks with his thumbs before wiping the saltiness on his tongue. “Anything?” Johnny hummed, looking down at you in mild curiosity.
Without thinking, and much to Johnny’s surprise, you started to lower yourself as much as you could with his hold still locked around your wrists. Your back slid against layers of the brick wall until you were crouched down at an angle that would surely leave your knees feeling some type of way tomorrow.
“Y/N, you really don't have to–”
“I want to. I want it. Please.”
And despite his hesitance at first, paired with the reminder that you hadn't really drank enough to get drunk and were at most a little bit tipsy, Johnny was quick to cave in.
He went to let go of both of your wrists briefly so he could undo his pants until you reached out to stop him. “Can we… stay in the position we were in before?” You mumbled softly, face warming up as he stared down at you. “Ah,” Johnny mused out as he carefully looked over your face before a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, “You want me to use your mouth, baby? I can do that.”
You let out a small whimper at his words and he re-pinned your wrists with one hand this time as his other started to undo the button of his jeans and unzip them. Johnny pushed them down along with his boxers enough to free his dick from its confines, the articles of clothing bunching up around his taut upper thighs and cupping his balls.
Your thighs squeezed together as your eyes flickered from the sight in front of you up to Johnny as he used his free hand to stroke himself a few times. “Tap me if you need to breathe or need me to stop.” He grunted, bringing his leaking tip to your lips as he lightly smacked your bottom lip with it to get your mouth to open up.
Immediately, your jaw slackened as your tongue lolled out and Johnny wasted no time in sliding himself in. With the slight force of his thrust, the back of your head was now pressed against the brick wall rendering you nearly immobile as Johnny began to fuck your mouth earnestly. “You always get what you want in the end, huh? Little brat.” He laughed breathlessly then groaned out when you moaned around him, sending vibrations through his cock.
Every part of your body felt tense and like it was on fire. From your arms being held up for so long and the crouched position you were in to the stretch of your mouth from the girth of Johnny being stuffed inside of your mouth, your body felt as if it were being pushed to its limit (even though that wasn't entirely the case).
But it felt so good. The deeper he lodged himself, almost hitting the back of your throat and making you gag slightly, the fuzzier your head got. You tried to widen your mouth a bit to fit more of Johnny inside as you mindlessly started to lick the underside of his cock. The shaky breath he let out only fueled you further and you started to bob your head along with his thrusts despite the gagging.
“Fuck, that’s good. You’re doing so good for me.” Johnny praised earning another moan from you, muffled by his ministrations. You wanted to rub your thighs together to alleviate some of the aching between your legs but with the position you were in it was almost impossible to do it by yourself.
Johnny seemed to notice your predicament, feeling your whimpers around him as your thighs shifted to get any angle that would help. He moved his leg forward until it was lodged between your thighs, up under your slightly raised skirt, and pressed right up against your core making you jolt.
“I shouldn't even be doing this since this should be a punishment,” Johnny huffed, the feeling of your panties damp under your skirt against his leg and more than likely sticking to your lower lips making his cock twitch, “But if you’re gonna get off, this is the only way I’ll allow you to do it.”
A surge of heat ran throughout your entire body, a twinge of embarrassment at essentially being told to grind against the man’s leg like some kind of dog in heat. But more than anything, you felt increasingly turned on by the degrading treatment. It was something you would store in the back of your mind to talk to Johnny about later.
As for right now, you adjusted yourself to get a good angle for your clit to get the right amount of friction before moving your hips forward at an unsteady yet decent pace. Johnny started to thrust into your mouth again at the same time as you began to hump his leg with more vigor.
“That’s it, baby, make yourself feel good.” Johnny moaned lowly, the sight below him only bringing him closer to his release as his thrusts became sloppier. Your jaw was a little more than aching now but you wanted to power through it, bobbing your head again while the movement of your hips grew faster.
“Almost there. God, fuck, your mouth… I’m close,” Johnny’s grip around your wrists tightened as a particularly hard thrust made you gag, constricting your throat around him briefly. It was enough to send him over the edge though as he pulled out of your mouth quickly before jerking himself off, only a few tugs of his cock being needed before white ropes covered the lower half of your face and chin.
You shuddered as your own orgasm ripped through you, thighs clamping around Johnny’s leg to ride the rest of your high out for a few seconds until you were sure you’d go into the painful side of overstimulation.
You would have slumped forward onto your knees from the overexertion of your muscles if it weren't for Johnny standing in front of you. He had let go of your wrists finally, rubbing them gently as he helped you up from your position against the wall on wobbly legs. “You alright?” He questioned as he watched you stretch your arms and legs, cracking a few bones, before nodding with a lop-sided smile.
Johnny smiled back lovingly, cupping your cheeks as he looked into your eyes and then scanned over your face taking in the mess he had made. His finger ran through and wiped the remnants of his cum off of your skin, collecting it all before pressing the digit to your lips. You opened your mouth to allow him to press it down onto your tongue before sucking it clean and as you were about to swallow, he pressed his lips against yours and snaked his tongue inside for a messy kiss.
“We’re still going home, right?” You asked with a wiggle of your eyebrow once he detached from your lips, earning a sigh from the man as he adjusted his pants and fixed himself. “Yes, we’re still going home, I’ll text Mark and let him know,” Johnny said as his arm wrapped around your waist, preparing mentally for the complaints that he’d get once the message would be sent. “I need to invest in some handcuffs for you, I swear. These hands get you in trouble more often than not.”
A wide grin spread across your face as you leaned into Johnny’s side, leading the two of you down and out of the alleyway. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
893 notes · View notes
praisethegabs · 6 months
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HEALING
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Re2r!Leon Kennedy x Scientist!Reader
synopsis: leon is in the process of healing, and this is something that requires patience, attention, kindness, and empathy. after everything he went through in the lab, now he is slowly adjusting to the world again, and he needs you more than never. you know he'll live with the scars for the rest of his life, but all that matters is his safety and the new memories he'll make.
warnings: small angst (bc why not?) at first, but ends with fluff. mentions of ptsd, nightmares, traumas, and a lot of care. reader is very supportive and patient with him. the parts in italic are from flashbacks.THIS CONTAINS HEAVY DESCRIPTIONS OF ABUSE! Do NOT read it if triggers you!
word count: 4845k
a/n: this is the second part for Freak, so you guys need to read it first! I wrote it at my job and I was really scared that someone would catch me. Anyways, enjoy it 🩵
TAG: @navstuffs
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"things will dissolve and be released and settled into spaces, and you will find your place in this vast and brilliant world." Seeker
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He still had nightmares.
And they keep him awake most of the night. He would wake up screaming, his body drenched in sweat, his breath labored, and his limbs trembling as if an electric current surged through his veins. Feeling scared, he seeks comfort, something small to reassure him that he isn't in the cold, white lab anymore.
Sometimes, his nightmares were so deep and dark that it was difficult to bring him back to the waking world.
But you knew since that day that he would go through with this. Although he was no longer in the lab, Leon still suffered from the aftermath of the events. He was haunted by the trauma and horrors he had experienced for many years.
The first weeks at your country house demanded a lot of energy from you. Leon was so exhausted and weak that it seemed like he wouldn't make it. You had to bathe him, change the bandages on his wounds, and essentially encourage him to eat. Eventually, he regained his body weight, and it wasn't necessary to keep the IV on him anymore. This was a significant progress.
But still, neither you nor he would talk about the lab.
It was a forbidden subject, mostly because you knew Leon had PTSD. Considering his well-being, you decided not to discuss what had happened. The stressful experiments, abuse, and everything else left him scared, traumatized, and with deep trust issues, causing him to have no trust in you whatsoever. But with patience and care, he was slowly starting to see you as his friend, not as a threat.
After two months at your country house, Leon was still recovering. Now, he was able to walk around the house without the IV pole next to him, and he didn't feel weak. You had a special diet made for him to help him regain his weight, and it was effective. Secretly, he loved your cooking, but he would never say that - at least not aloud.
Besides following a special diet, he had a rigorous workout routine. He enjoyed exercising outdoors, admiring the lush, green landscape, and basking in the warmth of the sun. After spending so many years trapped inside a padded room, he was always amazed by the beauty of nature. It didn't matter how many days he had already spent sitting in the grass, simply watching the sunset. He felt at peace.
And all of that, thanks to you.
"Please, I... I don't want it," Leon begged, his eyes tearing up as he saw you approaching with a syringe.
"Leon, I promise I won't hurt you," you sighed, as you attempted to administer the medicine. "It's just medicine."
"But it's going to hurt!" Leon shouted, backing against the wall, his body already trembling.
"I wish I could take pills, but this particular medication cannot be given in pill form, Lee," you said as you sat on his bed, attempting to convince him. "And I promise, you won't need to take the medication again. This is the last one."
Leon glanced at you, tears already streaming down his cheeks. It was extremely challenging to administer the medications he required, mainly because they all had to be injected into his body using a syringe, and, understandably, he had a strong aversion to needles.
"The last one?" He asked, searching for any sign of reassurance on your face. Noticing that, you simply nodded your head.
"Yes, the last one. After that, you will be taking pills or liquid. I didn't have time to buy any other medication," you explained to him calmly, hoping he would understand. "If you want to improve, you need to take your medication, okay?"
"But..."" His voice cracked for a moment, and then he looked down, avoiding eye contact. Tears were still falling down his face.
"I know, I know..." you gently approached him, sitting beside him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, gently embracing him. "You're doing well, do you know that? I'm proud of you."
"Am I?" He glances at you, searching once again for reassurance, to which you nod.
"So, will you be brave and let me administer the medicine?" You smiled, finally persuading him to trust you to do your job.
Leon nodded, and you helped him sit back on his bed. He extended his arm, allowing you to inject the needle into his vein. You prepared everything, gently cleaning his arm with a damp cotton pad and antiseptic solution. Right before administering the medication, you glanced at him.
"Alright, close your eyes for me," you instruct him, and he obediently complies by tightly shutting his eyes. "Good boy."
Leon smirks slightly and then groans softly as he feels the needle piercing his skin. A single tear fell from his eye when you finally administered the medication. When you finished, you covered the small bleeding wound with a cute band-aid.
"See?" It's done," you stroke his hair as a way to comfort him after he successfully tackled something that made him feel uneasy. "You did really well."
"I'm sorry," he muttered, sounding sad. Then, when his eyes met yours, he was on the verge of tears once more.
"You don't need to be sorry, sweetheart. I just want you to know that I am not mad at you for being scared, okay? You went through a lot, and now you're healing," you reassured him, gently holding his hands and intertwining them with yours.
Now that he was doing better, you were starting to worry about Umbrella finding you again. Before you left, you made the decision to find a secluded country house, far enough from the city that nobody would disturb you. It was almost like reaching another level. You took numerous safety precautions to ensure that they would not find Leon again.
You never told him about this. You didn't want him to be scared, especially now that he's finally recovering. Not only that, but you knew that someday you would have to tell him. However, this wasn't the best moment to do so. Thinking about the possibility, you had already formulated a Plan B and made all the necessary preparations to start again if needed. As long as you keep him safe, everything will be just fine.
Now, he is enjoying the peaceful life he deserves. No more tests, experiments, or abuse. Just calm and peace of mind.
"Leon!" You shouted his name from the kitchen and waved at him. "Dinner's ready!"
"Alright, I'm coming," you saw him nod his head, then redirect his attention to the sunset again. You smiled softly, knowing that he wouldn't see it.
He was a good boy, still learning about the world. He still had some submissive traits, but he was learning that he had the power to refuse and express his feelings and thoughts. Teaching Leon that he was allowed to say "no" was the next step in this journey, although you were having some trouble doing so.
"This smells good," Leon said as he walked into the house through the kitchen door. "What is it?"
"Can you guess?" You smiled at him, positioning yourself in front of the oven to block his view of what you were baking.
"It smells like... lasagna," he blushed deeply. On Fridays, you usually pamper him by giving him a break from his diet.
"Yep." "That's right," you nodded, smiling. Without hesitation, Leon set the table, preparing for dinner. "Thanks, sweetheart."
You both sat at the ornate wooden table for dinner. While you gave him a slice, you could see his eyes shining. Back at the lab, the food Leon had barely eaten smelled and tasted awful. That's why he was so skinny and weak, but now he can eat whatever he wants. Lasagna was one of his favorite dishes.
"I had a dream last night," Leon said after a moment. He glanced at you, expecting your attention.
"Really? About what?” you asked curiously, smiling at him again.
"I don't remember exactly, but... I think it was me before the lab," he said, and the last word sounded cold. "I was happy."
"Aren't you happy now?" You asked again, taking a bite of your lasagna before redirecting your gaze towards him.
His face turned pale, and he started to stutter again in response to your sudden question.
"Relax, I'm just teasing you," you laughed, trying to lighten his mood. He sighed, feeling relieved. "This is a good thing, I suppose." "You're improving, and soon you'll be able to leave if you want."
"Leave?" He raised his eyebrows, displaying visible confusion.
"Yes. You can now make your own choices, Leon. This means you can decide whether to stay or go," you smiled softly, then held his hand again.
"But... I don't want to go. I want to stay here... with you," he almost whispered the last part, but you managed to hear it nonetheless. "You're the only person I know, and the only one who cares about me. I feel safe with you, and for the first time in my entire life, I am happy."
His words were full of honesty. The way he looked at you and the sincerity behind every word he spoke. You nodded once more, then embraced him tenderly. At this point, you had nothing else to say. Instead, you felt butterflies in your stomach and a warm sensation in your chest. You wouldn't force Leon to stay with you against his own will, but now, if he wanted to do so, you wouldn't refuse.
"Are you sure about that?" You asked him after you broke the embrace, gazing into his baby blue eyes.
"Yes, I do," he nodded, whispering. He closed his eyes for a moment, gently touching his forehead to yours in a tender manner.
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You're reading a book, one of your favorites. You don't remember exactly when this started happening, but now it serves as a form of therapy for both of you. He lies between your thighs, you stroke his hair, and everything is at peace.
Leon was peacefully lying in your lap, his body comfortably nestled between your thighs, and his head resting on your stomach as you gently stroked his blonde hair. You can't tell if he's awake or asleep, but you know he's calm because of his gentle breathing. His thumb traces circles on your leg, and for a long moment, there is only the sound of rain and the warmth emanating from the fireplace.
“NO! NO, PLEASE!” Leon woke up screaming in the middle of the night. "Shit, holy shit."
"Leon, what's going on?" You opened his door to find him shirtless and gasping for breath. Sweat fell down his face, and his frightened blue eyes sought solace.
"I... I had an n-nightmare,” he said, his voice cracking and his entire body shaking with fear.
He started to cry, sobbing loudly. Leon tried to hide his face in the blankets, but you gently uncovered his face, embracing him tightly. You sighed, but you didn't say a word about it. With a gentle touch, you began to stroke his hair, softly whispering a lullaby in his ear to soothe him.
"I was there again. They were hurting me," Leon hissed, his voice still cracking with tears and sobs. "I can't sleep."
He looks at you, and seeing him in such a broken and vulnerable state makes your heart ache. He feels guilty. He thinks he's a burden, and you shouldn't waste your time with him. None of this is true, of course, and you still need to remind him of that.
“I-I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you up," he sobs quietly, closing his eyes and examining his own hands. The intravenous line on his right hand is covered with transparent bandages, which are connected to the pole next to his side. This serves as a constant reminder of how frail his body is.
"It's okay, don't worry about it. Come here, come lie with me." You gently hold his hand, leading him to your room.
Leon nodded, and with his slow pace, he followed you while holding his IV pole for support. It has only been two weeks since you brought him to your country house, and he still struggles with nightmares. He walks very slowly, and fatigue quickly overcomes him. You open the door and walk beside him until you reach your king-size bed, seating him on the mattress and adjusting the bedside table next to his side.
"I wish I could chase away the monsters... I wish I could protect you even as you sleep, but I can't," you whispered, kneeling on the floor, still holding his hand, and witnessing the pain he is in. "But I'm here, and nothing bad will ever happen to you again."
"I'm sorry," he sobs quietly, avoiding your gaze.
"Remember what I told you? There's nothing to be sorry for," you smiled gently, pushing the blankets away so he could lay down. "This isn't your fault."
"Back at the lab, they always made me think everything was my fault. They used to say that I deserved to be punished, that I deserved to be hurt and treated like some kind of animal," Leon said vaguely, his face still down as he avoided your gaze. "You know, one of the rules was that we shouldn't talk unless spoken to, and we could only say 'yes, sir' or 'yes, ma'am'. But even when we were allowed to talk, they would beat us and say that we deserved it."
Leon never spoke about the lab, and you never insisted on discussing the subject. You knew that one day he would open up to you, but you never thought it would happen after a nightmare. So, you decided to show your support by letting him vent, holding his hand, and ensuring he knew he was safe.
"During my first month, I was beaten up almost every day, at least ten times. They would often beat me simply because I was an innocent child who would cry out for my mother and plead for help. I was naive, but after a while, I learned the hard way that I wouldn't be rescued and my parents were not coming for me," Leon says, and you can see that he's crying again. He bites his lower lip, breathes in and out, and shakes once more. "There was a doctor. He pretended to be my friend, but... he touched me. I cried. I felt dirty and scared. He was supposed to take care of me, not hurt me the way he did… he said I could trust him, but when I did, he turned into a monster. He touched me for months, and nobody took any action. One day, when he tried to touch me, I fought back. This caused me to spend a month or two inside a cold, concrete cell, but it was worth it. I never saw him again"
You were shocked by his story. His file didn't contain this information, and you began to ponder what other things they were hiding. You felt disgusted.
"After I attacked the doctor, the situation deteriorated. They locked me inside a concrete cell. It was so cramped that I had very little space to move around. To make matters worse, the cell had an open top, which meant that whenever it rained, I would get drenched and remain wet for hours until the rain finally stopped. When the rain stopped, they would enter the cell and take me out, usually beating me and locking me up again," Leon let out a loud sob and a deep hiccup. His nose and eyes were red at this point. "But I didn't care. At least, I could feel the cold rain and the warmth of the sun, and I could breathe fresh air. He never touched me again. I don't know what happened, but ever since that day, I learned the hard way that I couldn't trust anyone."
He glances at you. His baby blue eyes shone with tears and sadness, his soul shattered into a thousand pieces, desperately seeking healing. Trying to find peace.
“I know none of this is my fault, but no matter how hard I try to convince myself, when I look in the mirror, I remember what he did to me and… and…” he doesn't finish his sentence. Leon started to cry again, and you immediately leaned in and rested his head on your shoulder.
The way he cried made his body ache, and you could feel him jerking as he sobbed loudly, to the point where he shut down completely. His mind is in chaos, he is drowning in darkness, and everything is a mess. He cannot talk, and he cannot breathe. You had never seen him like that before, and it scared you.
"It's okay, everything will be alright, I promise," you whispered, gently kissing the top of his head to soothe him.
It took at least an hour for Leon to completely calm himself down. You managed to lay him on your bed, using the blanket to cover him and keep his body warm. Gently, you moved his hair away from his face and hugged him tightly. Leon was so close to you that you could feel his breath on your face. You gently traced your fingers down his back, mindful of his limits, until he fell asleep.
It was the first time he had slept the entire night.
"What are you reading?" he asks in a husky voice after a moment of silence.
"Hamlet," you replied softly, your fingers entwined in his hair as you gently stroked it.
"Can you read it for me?" he asks softly, lifting his head so he can see you with his big, puppy-like blue eyes. "I like hearing you."
As the rain tapped lightly against the windowpane, you sat comfortably on the sofa with Leon's head cradled in your lap. The room was filled with the comforting scent of old books and bathed in a soft, warm glow emitted by the lamp on the side table. You turned the pages of the weathered book, your fingers tracing the well-worn lines of Shakespeare's Hamlet.
Leon's eyes were closed, his breathing steady and rhythmic, and a faint smile played on his lips as he listened to your voice. Your words flowed like a gentle stream, carrying the weight of a timeless tale. You read with a soft, melodic cadence, your voice rising and falling, like the raindrops outside the window.
"To be or not to be, that is the question," you began, your voice filled with contemplation. "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them."
The rain outside seemed to synchronize with the soliloquy, its gentle patter against the glass creating a soothing backdrop for Shakespeare's words. You continued, your fingers running through Leon's hair, reciting, "To die: to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished."
Your voice wove a tapestry of emotions, your words caressing Leon's soul as the story of Hamlet unfolded. He felt so at peace, as if nothing in this world could ruin this moment. He loved the way you read to him. He loves being touched by you.
For someone who was treated like an animal for most of his life, being treated as a human being with feelings and emotions certainly caused him to break. Leon never thought he could escape his nightmare. He never imagined that his life would turn out like this. Two months ago, Leon gave up all hope he had. He made peace with himself, accepting that he would die in the lab.
But you saved him.
You saved him in every possible way. You came when everything seemed to be lost, when all he knew was darkness and pain. You were the light he needed, the touch of the sun, the warmth of an embrace, and the happiness he desperately craved. You were the missing piece he had been searching for all those years. But until this very moment, he had to walk a long road.
The moonlight bathed the countryside in an ethereal glow, and Leon had spent a week recuperating in the country house, gradually healing his body and spirit. After his first week at home, you observed him gradually regain strength, patiently anticipating the opportune moment to provide him with a symbolic liberation from his past. Finally, put an end to this chapter once and for all. On this particular night, after serving him dinner, you approached his bedside with a gentle expression, filled with kindness and determination.
"Leon, I have something for you," you whispered, your voice soft and soothing. "I think it's time for us to finally leave the lab behind and move on."
Leon, still weak and pale, looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. He was beginning to trust you implicitly, but the memories of the lab still clung to him like shadows.
"What do you mean?" Leon asks, his voice still weak and husky, as if he's struggling to stay awake.
"Come with me," you smiled soothingly at him, stroking his hair.
With great care, you helped him to his feet, wrapping a warm shawl around his shoulders, while he used the pole to support his weight. You both walked slowly, your steps synchronized with his weakened state, into the embrace of the moonlit night. Leon's steps were still uncertain, and his body felt fragile after a week of rest and recovery. The path you two followed led to a field — an expanse of wildflowers in full bloom. This field was alive with the beauty of wildflowers swaying in the gentle breeze. It was a symbol of nature's resilience and the potential for fresh starts. The fragrant air surrounded both of you, providing a refreshing contrast to the sterile environment of the lab.
You led him to a makeshift altar beneath a towering oak tree, with candles flickering and dancing in the breeze. On the altar, you placed a small bundle of clothes — the very same garments he had worn as a test subject in the lab.
"Leon Scott Kennedy," you said softly, "Today marks one week since we left the lab, and it has been a week since you embarked on your new life. I want you to leave the past behind and find closure. I want you to find peace and happiness, but for that, we need to do something first. These clothes represent the darkest chapter of your life. It's time to say goodbye to them."
As you handed him the old lab coat, the attire itself served as a constant reminder of his torment. The fabric was worn and tattered, bearing the marks of his suffering. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers trembling. The memories, the pain, the suffering — all were contained in that fabric. The old uniform was worn and tattered, bearing the marks of his suffering. But now, it was time to let go. With a deep breath, he placed the clothes on the fire that you had kindled.
The flames engulfed the garments, and the flickering light cast dancing shadows on Leon's tear-streaked face. The clothes started to burn, gradually disintegrating into ashes and embers. As he watched the fire consume his past, tears started to blur his vision. As the fire engulfed them with a voracious intensity, consuming them bit by bit, you witnessed Leon's tears cascading down his face.
He cried for the pain he had endured, for the years stolen from him, and for the loss of innocence. But with each tear that fell, a weight lifted from his shoulders.
You held him close, with your arm around his shoulders, and whispered, "It's okay to cry, Leon. You're finally free."
He sank to his knees in the field filled with wildflowers, his heart burdened by the weight of his past but also uplifted by the promise of a fresh start. As the last of the lab clothes turned to ashes, Leon realized that he had emerged from the darkness. He was no longer a guinea pig, but a man, free to write the story of his own life.
He cried so much that night. He finally found peace.
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Leon stood on the porch of the charming country house, holding a cup of steaming tea. The world around him was a picturesque canvas of green hills and blooming wildflowers. Birds sang a melodious chorus, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient trees. The air was filled with a sense of peace he had never experienced before.
The next morning, you woke up and found his bed empty. This had become quite normal by now. Leon always wakes up before you and prepares breakfast. So, after getting out of bed and taking care of your morning routine, you went downstairs. The kitchen door was open, and a chilly breeze blew in. Despite the sun shining in the sky, it was still cold. You spotted him and smiled, grabbing your coffee mug.
As Leon sipped his tea, his thoughts wandered back to the years he had spent as a captive in that sterile lab. The painful experiments, the isolation, and the uncertainty, each memory weighed heavily on his soul. He had endured the unimaginable, and yet, here he was - finally free.
The contrast between his past and the serene present was staggering. He had been reduced to a mere subject of scientific curiosity, dehumanized and robbed of his dignity. But now, in the tranquil countryside, he was rediscovering the true essence of life.
He had his eyes fixed on a solitary red rose that swayed gently in the breeze. As he gazed at the rose, he couldn't help but wonder about the life he had missed during his captivity. His mind was filled with a whirlwind of questions. What had he missed while he was trapped? How has the world outside changed? What had become of his family and friends, if they still existed at all? Leon's thoughts were a labyrinth of uncertainty, a journey through the mysteries of his past.
A butterfly landed on a nearby flower, and he watched it with fascination. It was a symbol of freedom and transformation, a reminder that he too had the chance to start anew. With each passing day, he rediscovered the simple joys of life — the taste of fresh strawberries, the sound of laughter after a joke, and the sensation of grass under his fingers.
As the rose swayed in the breeze, he silently made a silent promise to himself: to cherish every moment of freedom, to embrace the beauty of the world, and to make the most of the life that had been stolen from him for far too long.
"I know you're watching me," Leon says, not turning back to face you, and taking another sip of his tea. Chamomile is his favorite.
"Penny for your thoughts?" you said, getting closer to him and standing by his side.
"I never thought I would see the world again. I kept imagining things in my mind as a way to escape that hell and forget the pain. But now that I'm here, I have a new chance, and I don't intend to waste the rest of it." Leon looks at you tenderly, his hand reaching out for yours. "I thought I was going to die in there, but you saved me. You gave me my life back, you helped me heal, and I'm here today because of you."
The smile on your lips was almost involuntary.
"I know it was hard for you, but thank you for not giving up on me," he says, his baby blue eyes locked onto yours.
"I would never give up on you, Leon," you almost whisper, your voice filled with a sudden happiness you never knew existed.
He smiled, then kissed your forehead. As the sun rose, the two of you sat side by side, observing the sky and the sunlight caress the lush field. After all this time, he allowed himself to feel again, and at first, it felt strange. It felt uncomfortable. He was scared that he would be hurt until you proved to him that you were not like the others. The way you made him feel, the way you showed him that life could be simple, and that it was okay to feel and be afraid sometimes, changed him. He was insecure, traumatized, and scared. You helped him see the other side of life. You found him when he was lost. Now, he had something to believe.
He was free, and he had you by his side. And no one would ever take his freedom away again. 
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slasher-male-wife · 1 year
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hi!! ok so i saw ur one shots on slashers dating an airhead, but i LOVED patrick’s one shot. so i wanted to ask if you could make a little fic on that one shot?
I'd love to write this for you. What I wrote before is called head cannons and what I'm writing now is called a one shot btw. I totally understand getting them mixed up though. I hope you enjoy!
They're stupid but...I kind of like that: Patrick Bateman x airhead reader
Warnings: Attempted murder, Patrick has a soft spot for you
Patrick invited you over to his apartment. You work with him at the office. You're an assistant for one of his coworkers and he's heard other men in the office talk about how dumb you are but he's never really believed that you could be that dumb. Patrick is in the bathroom now, putting on his clear rain coat. You're waiting in the living room on the couch, news paper spread all over the ground.
When Patrick re enters the living room he notices you holding up one of the newspapers. 'Odd' He thinks to himself. Walking over to the kitchen where the ax lays he notices you really reading the news paper.
"Y/n?" He asks. You lower the paper and look at him. Realization washes over his face. He assumes you just saw the ax and the rain coat but you set the paper back on the ground.
"I'm so sorry you probably had those there for a reason. I didn't mean to mess it up." He stares at you blankly trying to determine if you're just playing dumb or if you really are that dumb.
"No that's fine. I was just wondering what you were doing." You nod and look him up and down.
"Is it raining outside? If it is you don't have to walk me out to my cab I can do it myself." You say standing up.
"No, no. Just sit there for a little while alright?" You nod with a smile still on your face. Patrick ducks back into the kitchen and runs a hand over his face. 'How can they be so clueless?' He thinks to himself, 'I mean they deal with stocks and important finance all day. They're stupid, obviously...but I kind of like that.' He spends a few more moments in the kitchen before he walks back out to the living room. Now not wearing the clear rain coat, "Y/n can I ask you something?" He asks moving to sit next to you on the couch.
"Of course Mr. Bateman." He smiles a polite but empty smile.
"Please, call me Patrick. But I was wondering if you know how stocks are going at the moment." You pause for a moment before you bite your lip then smile.
"This is going to sound really bad. But I don't know a thing about stocks. I feel so guilty all the time because I'm working around them so much but I just don't know a thing about them." His smile grows more sincere as he wraps an arm around your shoulder.
"I don't think that's a bad thing at all Y/n." He says.
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slow motion love potion | n. romanoff
about me | series masterlist | natasha romanoff masterlist
pairing: professor!natasha romanoff x collegestudent!reader
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chapter six | chapter seven: full of cages
chapter summary: had she been intentionally haunting you, you wouldn't know. but for someone who doesn't think of you, she's been showing up more and more in your life. she's not just your professor who has it out for you, or the woman who's been haunting your dreams every night, she also live under the same roof as you now.
warnings: slight smut; masturbation, unedited; lots of typos, long.
a/n: oh my god, the last chapter was chaotic T T. i received so many feedbacks (which super super appreciated, thank you) BUT HAD NO ONE REALLY READ THE SERIES SUMMARY? the "plot twist" has been there forever! i've been trying to foreshadow it even though i explicitly wrote the whole gist of it on the summary, but i really thought it was obvious.
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"you have to come back."
there were only ever two people who ever dared barge into natasha's office to demand her of something. she'll be damned if her students, knew that they were two freshmen who are barely five months into college. "mr. maximoff, you have to go," she says. removing her hands from the desk, and instead re-aligning the stack of papers she had on top of it as a subtle mark to end the conversation.
"mrs. romanoff," billy sighs.
"it's a little too early for this and you have class. so if you would just—"
billy's shoulders drop. "natasha...,"
"i'm quite busy, mr. maximoff," she insists.
but so did he. "mom..."
she was grabbing everything she could find on her desk, tucking them away, moving them across the table, fixing what hadn't needed fixing; from rearranging her stack of papers by putting a page from the back to the middle, or repetitively opening and closing her drawers for everytime she finds absolutely anything she can stash away.
billy only watched her. when natasha's desk had way more than enough space for her to rest her elbows on, and clasp her hands together against, she sighed almost defeated when she looked at billy.
billy had brown eyes; nothing like the ocean greens of her mother's. he'd gotten that from his father. in fact, billy looked so much like his father. he resembled vision so much that he became her constant reminder that while all of them favored scarlet over maroons, she had green eyes and they didn't. while they always win the argument over what to have for dinner, she was allergic to the tuna wanda puts in her famous maximoff casserole. while they made a hobby of providing food for the homeless, or volunteering in community outreach programs, she used to be a criminal.
while she'd always wanted a family, she also became the permanent line that would forever seperate one in half.
"billy," she says. she didn't know what she was going to say, but billy did.
"you need to come home."
what could she possibly tell a boy who's asking her to come home?
"my mom's crying," he said. "when i come home to pick something up for lunch, or when i'd acidentally left something at home, and i walk through the door, and i hear her, and i see her...," he paused. he swallowed on what almost made him choke. "and she's on her side of the bed, crying over you."
in people's minds, she was mean. sometimes, it amuses her knowing that when she walks inside a classroom, her students would each have a different version of what monster she'd look like if she took off her "disguise". and more times than not, she loves it. she loves that she's feared. she loves that they're so afraid of her, so much that they'd drawn such vivid images of what kind of horns she'd have in their minds.
she should be offended. disheartened. but knowing that she was nothing like the monster people think of her to be, knowing that once, she used to come home to her family; dance, and kiss, and spin, and dip her wife in the entryway; laugh and throw food around during movie nights with the two people who meant the absolute world to her; make sandwiches and play videogames or go to the gym with her son. knowing that she was a lot kinder; that she looks after her best friend's family because he continues to be in a dangerous line of work, that she still helps out her scientist friend with his experiment because only she can bring him out of a jam. it made it all the more special; knowing that she remained unseen. knowing that she was something she had complete control of giving to the very few people she trusted. it made it more intimate.
but in those rare moments when being depicted as such a terrible person didn't come so much with pleasure, she wondered if maybe it's because people misunderstood her. maybe if she smiled more? maybe if she talked slower. maybe if she was softer. maybe if she was gentler. maybe she wouldn't seem so bad.
"billy, this does not concern you," she said, regret immediately dawning on her the moment she saw billy's face contort in disbelief. she cleared her throat. for what has felt to be such a long time, she finally dropped her shoulders. she let herself slouch against the desk, she let her brows raise in comfort, she let a lump pass onto her throat for the sheer hospitality of the terrible feeling it came with. a feeling that she finally welcomed. she let her stoicsm break, and her pride falter. "billy, sweetheart," she says, almost in a pleading whisper. she reached out to him, inviting him to come closer which he did so by disallowing any space to be between him and her desk. then she holds his hands inside hers as he slowly sat down. "whatever happened between me and your mother, whatever will happen to us, you need to know that we love you very much, and that will never change," she says.
he shakes his head. "i'm not twelve anymore, natasha," he says, withrawing his hands from her hold almost abruptly. "i just need to know that my mother will be okay."
she didn't say anything though they both knew she should've. though they were both waiting for her to say something, she didn't.
"you promised me. you promised me that you'd be there. when you married her, you promised me you'd never hurt my mother the way that my father did. you promised you'd never be like him. you promised you were different...," he choked on the lump in his throat. he was spiralling. his sentences slur into a string of words that come out like a gush of waterfall. he was shaking his head, "you promised you'd love me...," he looks at her.
"and i do."
billy was nothing like his mother. maybe that's why they got along so well. the got along the same way natasha did with her; being complete opposites.
billy got most of his father's genes. not just his mannerisms, or his looks. billy was his exact replica. from the way he acts, to the way he brushes his fingers through his hair. billy is calm. he's collected.
billy spiraled the way he did. his anxiety works the same way his father did. how he acted through it, how he choked on his words, how he panics through his sentences,
"no, you don't understand. i need you to come home."
something in her cracked. and she was unaware of everything he said next, though she were sure it was something about his mother, about how she yearned for her. about how he wanted his family back. and the next thing she knew, she was writing a letter to her next door neighbor to look after the place she'd made for herself as she won't be coming back anytime soon. and then someone else was in the room.
she went home that night. because after a long day of answering students who deem it comfortable to barge in on her; billy's friend right after he left, grading papers, teaching, and erasing the life she'd created for herself so she can try to disregard the past few months to sit in their driveway, her new car behind her wife's, unable to fathom her return.
should she come in? if she did, it would be wanda, billy, and her again. it would be the maximoff's and a romanoff. it would be reminders of the family she felt like she broke and stole half of for herself, it would be their memories in what once was the home of vision, and tommy maximoff.
in the house with too many windows and green pannels; a brick porch and a gray roof, was the very home she used to stare at wanda a little too long in; it was the very house wanda would sneak longing touches in, disguised as accidents during friendly game nights.
it was the house she watched billy grow from a tween whose voice was much too high for his age, into a man who knows what he wants, and demands for it.
she spent a lot of her nights, sleeplessly caring for billy when he was sick. she already spent too much time on his projects, she already took him on too many motorcycle rides, she already suffered through too much of him complaining about you. she already spent so much of her time falling in love with billy. he's her son. what kind of mother would abandon her son?
"i missed you so much, mama," he tells her, his face nuzzled in her neck and his arms wrapped tightly around her arms.
her heart melted; its love and warmth swimming through her every vein. she hugged him back. it was like when he used to run out of the school bus to hug her, or when he'd kiss her cheek after she'd come home from work.
she felt at home.
that was until her eyes met with yours—a girl standing just right by the arch into the dining room. and suddenly, she felt like she was back in school.
she sighed, subtly. she can't seem to catch a break from you. and it doesn't do her any good. but she ignored you, still. she passed by you as if you weren't there at all. and the way she so closely ignored your very presence—not in class, not in a lecture hall full of people, but in the walls of her very home, the way her eyes passed through you as if you were some ghost, you shrunk. and you froze. if it weren't for billy who naturally put a hand on your waist to lead you inside following his mother, you would've stayed frozen.
you grabbed billy's arm the moment you snapped out, "billy!" you pulled him into the hallway. "god, oh lord, please explain this to me!"
he was a little agitated, too eager to enter the dining room to speak to the mother he never told you about. nonetheless, after stirring his head back and forth, for a bit, he stood straight and gave you his undivided attention. "what is it, dear?" something in your skin crawled.
"you never told me mrs. romanoff was your mother?!" you exclaimed, your whisper getting louder. "since when was this?!"
"a few years ago?" he said, his palm brushing against the back of his neck.
"a few years ago?!" you repeated, your voice now above a whisper. "how can you not tell me!"
"it never came up!" he returns your energy.
"for god's sake billy, she's the very professor i spend my every day complaining to you about!"
"and i tried telling you she was my mother but you never listened!" he exclaims. neither of you were whispering now. your voices were nothing but a little less than how you'd normally talk. "i thought you knew, it was pretty obvious!"
"boys, what's--" you hear wanda's voice from the dining room. "billy, y/n, what's the noise all about?"
neither of you answered. you were not but a wall apart, yet the silence from the other room made you think they can not hear you too.
"when?!"
"well, just last week you asked where my mother was, and when i asked which one you said, 'mrs. maximoff' so i just thought you knew...," it was the day after you got drunk. you remembered. never had you wanted to scream at yourself for not noticing, for not hearing it. maybe because you were too focused on yourself again to notice anything billy says.
god, if you'd only listened.
if you'd only put anyone above yourself.
"well, i was stressed. i didn't notice...," you defended, a little calmer now in slight defeat.
"any other time, you'd interrupt me."
"what?"
that was actually a slap on the face. a slap that left a, "if you would just take one second to look at anybody else other than yourself, maybe you'd realize" mark on your cheek.
you were certain that he might have told you, tried to at least, and every time you did interrupt him.
"i thought he was just your auntie nat...," you say quietly now, calmly, almost apologetically.
"yes," he says in a mere breath of air. "but i tried telling you she did become my mother after that."
"had you..."
yes. he did. you remembered because you assumed he'll only say that they'd gotten even closer eventually so you interrupted him. you remembered because for a moment you hoped you'd be as close to her as he was, and then you went on theorizing what made her so bad.
he was defending her so often, and you'd assumed it was because mrs. romanoff was wanda's friend. but who would scream like that to his mother's friend? what kind of child would barge into his mother's friend's office. how could you not have noticed?
"where did you two meet?" you ask.
you were looking at neither of them as your eyes were trained to the knife you were cutting through the steak. you didn't really want to look up. you didn't want to see mrs. romanoff and the way she couldn't see you; she didn't want to see you. but you'd grown tired of hearing billy's never-ending stories to catch his mother up. you didn't care how they met. you just couldn't stand the stolen glances, and the silent chewing between mrs. romanoff, and mrs. maximoff. the tension, you could cut through with a knife but billy couldn't tell. her never could.
"through a friend..." they say in synch, pausing upon the realization to look at each other for a little before looking back down.
you caught a glimpse of that simple interaction and thought it be best if you just let billy speak. you couldn't see something like that again. that simple strained interaction was enough to make your teeth hurt.
you made sure to keep your eyes on your plate too. the shrinking feeling of being unseen by mrs. romanoff when you're right in front of her, not because she chooses not to but because you hold zero value to her life that she can't actually see you, to see that is unheartly. she wasn't just your professor anymore, she's your boyfriend's mother who you're beginning to assume is moving back into the home you just moved into. even in her home, she couldn't look at you as if your of no worth.
you can't forget now, she's your professor, and your boyfriend's mother.
even when your skin burns from the imagery of her hands on you in your dreams, she's still your professor.
even when you pulse, and ache, in want and need at night, resist, she's your boyfriend's mother.
even when your hand travels down to your very core, and you vibrate in the irresistable desire the darkness of your room allows you. with every bit of her hands on your neck, and her body on you, engraved in your memory. forget about the dreams, she's mrs. maximoff's wife.
don't let her distract you, don't let your dreams decieve you, your body's just changing, your aching not for her but for the imminent desire to be touched, to be loved, to be wanted.
don't think about her. you don't want her.
don't think about her.
don't think about her.
but how can you not when she so gracefully writhes on top of you? how can you not when she's holding a handful of your hair and pushing her front against your back?
it's an illusion from your brain, a signal from your body of your sexual deprivation. but the way she kisses you, the way her fingers play with you very being, she's wanda's wife. she's mrs. romanoff.
"oh, god, yes! please mrs. romanoff...," you covered your mouth the moment you heard your voice be slightly louder than it is safe to be. but the fear someone might have heard you did not make you fingers falter. "please, god, i'm cumming, i'm cumming, i'm cumming..." you were chanting mrs. romanoff's name a few more seconds before you'd made yourself see stars, and your body errupted in pure euphoria.
it took a while before the stars faded into your ceiling, and you were panting. your chest was heaving, and when you brought your fingers from the gap between your legs, it's almost like you coudn't believe what you'd done.
"i did it...," you smile, seeing your fingers dripping in juices.
it was the first time you had done this. and somehow, all the tension, and the bottled sexual frustration all ceased upon your release. and a part of you hated that you hadn't done it sooner.
and then a creak snaps you out. and there it was, shame. the reminder that you did not only dream about your professor and bestfriend's--boyfriend's mother, but you got off on the thought of her. you weren't new to the feeling, it welcomes you every morning when you wake up realizing you had been haunted by her again.
"i need water...," you sigh to yourself as you got up.
you didn't realize your door was slightly open, but you didn't really care. the entire house was asleep, so much so that you can even hear your own breaths.
you looked at the hallway where the rooms are. it was dark but you still saw the bathroom door open at the end of the hall. your room was right by the stairs. it was originally a guest room until you stayed here as a kid. you still have a very vivid memory of vision painting your walls pink, and wanda painting flowers on a part of the wall. the room hadn't changed one bit.
billy's door was right in front of yours, and wanda's near the end of the hall. you wonder if natasha and wanda are sleeping on the same bed now.
something inside you stirs.
"you're still awake," you hear a familiar voice say and something inside you shifts. wanda usually keeps the kitchen light on. you didn't see mrs. romanoff until you looked up almost in shock.
she just humiliated you in her office earlier. then she complete disregarded your presence in her home. and then you got off on her.
you could never look at her without all these feelings eating you up. she scares you, and infuriates you, but still you want her to look at you, you want her to be nice, you want her validation.
"so, you're billy's mom," you say casually, walking up to the fridge.
she hummed. she opened her bottle of beer before tilting her head up to take a brief glance at you. "hadn't you known?"
it wasn't as much of a question as it is a tonal accusation that you had known, you're just pretending not to.
but you didn't.
"no. actually, i didn't," you say, finally opening the fridge which handle of you've been holding the entire time.
"hadn't you," she chuckled, then she took a sip of her drink while leaning against the counter.
this was the most you'd seen of her. outside of school, outside her profession. she wasn't mrs. romanoff. she was a normal woman who drinks beer at 1 am in the morning with wet hair and a gray shirt.
"i always thought you had all that courage with me because billy was your friend," she says.
this was the longest she looked at you. the only time when you felt like she can see you other than when she's trying to humiliate you, or you're asking for her attention.
"i...," you were at lost for words. not because you didn't know what to say. but because she distracts you. because she's distracting you again.
she wasn't looking at you, she'd only take glances, or brief looks. she seems comfortable enough looking at the kitchen island rather than you. and her lips, they twitch. the end of her lips twitch and stretches out into a small smile, especially when she chuckles. or when she quips your responses.
you're down here, staring at her as if you hadn't just moaned her name while fucking yourself.
but she... she was unlike the mrs. romanoff who would stare at your very soul, unmoving, unbothered, uninterested.
maybe, billy was right. she was nicer at home. but who would've thought you'd see her stoicsm break inside her home, at 1 am, while getting water in your pajamas.
you break out of your thoughts when she looks at you, waiting for you to speak, "i don't...," you speak aimlessly, unaware of what you're trying to get across. but then you look away. you open the fridge, sticking your face in so the door covers her. and you could speak. "what courage?" you say dryly.
"well, i'd told you already," she straightened her back, going around the island where she'd sat on one of the stools. "you have the courage to demand i be nicer to you, or that i let you go from my class. if you'd taken the time to ask me the right questions, maybe you could've done better."
"let's not talk school," you groan. "you're at home. i'd like to have a break from professor you."
"well," she grins to herself. "i think you won't be getting that much break from me."
she was gentler; kinder. you wanted this at school.
you finally bring out a bottle of water from the fridge, meeting her by the island where you stand across from her, opening your drink.
"it wasn't courage," you say. "i was asking you all that because i was afraid of you."
"isn't it courage to stand in front of something you're afraid of?"
you didn't say anything for a while. the both of you were on pause, not even moving.
"why are you being nice?" you say abruptly. "you weren't even acknowledging my existence until three minutes ago."
"didn't you ask me to be nicer to you?"
"when i got drunk, yes," and you asked her to fuck you. "i still mean it. but still. why?"
you see her lips twitch into what you noticed was a manneristic grin. and then you hear a small chuckle. "i think, y/n, that you blur out the lines between being professional, and being personal. i am a college professor, and i am not expected to be nice to my student, and neither am i required to," she slipped into being mrs. romanoff so effortlessly, professional after being personal in a snap. you'd think, she was the one who had her professional personality far too intertwined that she's starting to confuse the two. "just because i'm strict and a disciplinarian at work, doesn't make me a bad person in real life."
she was right. when was she not?
and had always been easier to blame her being mean when really... really, she was just so distracting.
her lips are moving, and you could feel something inside of you from the way her tongue rolls off the roof of her mouth. and her eyes... they flutter, and they close, and they stare at you, and you're so instantly drawn, you could feel yourself actively trying to pin your entire body down from being sucked into whatever gravity pulling you into her that science could never explain.
she's distracting you. everything she is, her very being distracts you.
"try harder, miss y/l/n," she says, again, breaking you out of your thoughts.
"what?"
"i think you're really smart. so try harder," she says. "and stop being so distracted,"
you feel it again. aching.
you could never try harder, because everything she does, everything she does to you, and says to you, it pulls you further away from what you should be focused on.
"are you distracted again, miss y/l/n," she said your name differently this time. it wasn't sharp, or harsh. you couldn't point it out, all know was how it sent chills down your lower back.
you're going to lose this tomorrow. the moment when she finally sees you would dissipate into tomorrow when she'd humiliate you again, call you out, or worse, ignore you. you couldn't.
"teach me," you say, slapping your hands against the surface of the counter.
"what?"
"you told me if i just asked you. so i'm asking you," you stared at her, looking directly into her eyes. "teach me where i got it wrong. tell me what to do, help me. guide me."
"is that what you want?"
"i want to do better," for you. "you should be asking me if that's what i need, shouldn't you?"
"what do you need?"
"you," you whisper. "i need you to help me."
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bettyfrommars · 5 months
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hi loves
a wee announcement/bit of reflection below the cut
nothing heavy, just some thoughts & updates
First of all, I want to say I love this fandom so much. Truly I do. It has carried me though possibly the hardest, loneliest year of my life (and this ol' girl has been though some dark times). I've made friendships here that I hope to cherish for the rest of my life.
I came into fanfiction in October of last year, after not writing anything substantial for almost a decade. My dear friend at the time said she was looking for a specific Eddie Munson story, so I wrote it for her. I wrote it in first person because I didn't even understand how "reader perspective" was a thing, that's how wet behind the ears I was to this world. My friend, on the other hand, is a well-versed fic reader, and I distinctly remember messaging her like, "okay, what the hell is a Y/N??"
I spent that entire dark, cold winter writing and passing it to her in parts like notes in a classroom. The rush of getting back to something I loved so deeply after so much time away turned me into a monster. I lived and breathed that story. We sent endless messages back and forth every day about what each character would do next, imagining ourselves in that world, with Eddie. We made playlists, we cried. We screamed and giggled and kicked our feet when they finally kissed. We mourned the loss when it ended and moped around a bit before going back to read it all over again. Some 40k words and four months later I realized, holy shit, I think I write fanfiction now?
In a way, fanfiction saved my life. It brought me back to a part of myself I had buried, a part of me that worried it might never see the light of day again. It came crawling out of the ground, gasping for air like, "you better stretch your fingers bitch because I have a lot to say."
In April, I started posting here when the fandom was notably beginning to wane, but I was happy to see there were so many still going hard for our man. I kinda creeped in, like a little scuttling crab, and was grateful to find that a handful of you embraced me.
Long story short, I am NOT leaving, not at all. I know the tone is there, but that is not what this is, lmao. I will hopefully keep this blog for as long as you will have me. I plan to finish writing I'm on Fire and Death Becomes Us, as well as maybe another bit for gargoyle!Eddie, and nightmare!Eddie, but the other series I've started (or planned to start) will stay on hiatus for a while, possibly forever. I will continue to post blurbs and hc's and whatnot, but I won't be committing to any new series or long fics.
My masterlists will remain intact for the time being for those who want to enjoy what is there. That being said, The Nightmare Factory and Stop the World and Melt with You, might be taken down in the future only because I plan to re-work them into original stories. I have a second non-fandom blog in the works that is dedicated to monsters, nightmares, and magic realism, and I will let those who are interested know about it when the time comes.
Mostly, I wanted to let you know that, even if you notice some changes, I will continue to persist with "My 2 Joe's" delulu era, possibly until the earth swallows me up. I am no longer taking requests, but my asks will always be open for thots, blurbs, obsessions, etc. You know how much I love hearing from you.
That's all really. Perhaps this is simply one of those "end of year" thought dumps, but I also wanted to say a heartfelt Thank You to those who continue to support me, enjoy my work, and share it. My Ride or Die monsterfuckers and biker Eddie enthusiasts. My nightmare Eddie dreamers, my Twilight Zone Eddie pineapple heads. My gargoyle Eddie romantics who cheer on our Stone Boy, and my Hybrid Steve lovers who leave their windows open at night. My True Blood friends who appreciate a vampire Eddie who is nothing like Bill Compton. My darlings, my fellow rebel rousers and misfits, my friends.
This is a very symbiotic relationship, and I could not/would not do this without you ❤️
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