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kentosovertime · 3 months

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(n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past

➳ reformed fuckboy!gojo x afab!reader - 3.8k

➳ a/n: just got done saying how fun it is to write gojo platonically but fuck that he's my little slut~

➳ cw: explicit content, explicit language, multiple sex scenes, choking, unprotected sex, longing, reader leaves gojo in the dust, one night stand or so he thinks, mentions of alcohol, snowed in trope

“Do you want to get out of here?” The white haired sorcerer leans into your space where you’ve been nursing the drink he purchased for you, not wanting to seem too interested.

Gojo Satoru, you hum to yourself in thought. Notorious fuck boy of the jujutsu world. There was a dark, predatory promise in his eyes and you knew that the scratch you came out to itch would be satisfied if you went home with him but… You were up for consideration of promotion from a Grade 1 sorcerer to a special grade. You didn’t want to ruin that or make it seem like you slept your way there, especially given how few obtain the title.

“I don’t know…” You shoot him a sly smile, swirling the liquid around your glass. “Is it my turn in line now?”

“Come on, baby girl. It’s not like that.” His smile doesn’t drop as he gently grabs you by the wrist and lays a teasing kiss on your open palm. “I can’t help myself when I see a beautiful, strong woman who’s so pent up. You need to blow off steam.”

Goosebumps race up your arm where his lips brush against your palm again before nipping at your skin, sending the sensation straight to your core.

“What makes you my best option?” You lean forward, playfully trailing a finger down his black casual t-shirt before tossing your gaze over to Nanami sitting across the local bar. “Your light haired friend has been looking at me all night. Maybe I’ll go home with him instead.”

“Because…” He crowds into where you’re standing, making your face tip back to meet his gaze as he purrs down at you. “You’re not rubbing those lush thighs together with anyone here but me.”

Your breathing stutters out as he leans forward and trails his nose up your neck, his heavy breaths panting against your sensitive skin.

“I bet this is making your little cunt drip.” His touch meets the side of your breast, thumbing you through the fabric of your dress. “You can be greedy, baby. I won’t complain.”

“F-fuck-” A whimper escapes your mouth despite your determination not to react. “You’re so crude.”

“I don’t hear you disagreeing with me.” He only grins wider when your words come out with no bite to them as you choke them out. You wish the rumors included that he was terrible in bed but that was never the case.

“I’m not…” You chew on your cheek, making the worst decision of your life as you knock back your entire drink and meet his gaze directly. “Your place then?”

Gojo’s eyes light up as he nods excitedly, half expecting to have to fight you further on this.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A moan rips from his throat as you break from his lips to shove him to the surface of the bed, already flush with the multiple highs he pulled out of you by the time he shut the apartment door behind you. There was one in the cab ride home from his fingers and another in the elevator from his tongue alone. Your bare legs part as you straddle him, your pants lost somewhere in the journey to his bedroom.

“Sweetheart-” He hisses, his hips bucking as you take a hold of his slacks, unzipping them and shoving your hand into where there was a painfully obvious bulge. “Fuck, slow down. I want to take my time with you.”

Your hand pumps the hard length of him, your thumb rubbing and paying attention to the tip that’s oozing globs of pre-cum as you settle yourself to hover over him, primed to sink down at a moment's notice.

“I thought you brought me here to fuck me.” You smirk down at him, being your turn to gloat, basking in the impact you had on him. You circle your hips slowly, pushing just the tip of his cock into you, moaning softly as you chuckle at his low whine. “You should let me get on with it. Someone wanted me to be greedy.”

“Well yes, b-but- oh my fuck-” His head tilts back with a throaty moan as you suddenly sink down, taking his length in one motion before you’re grinding at a steady pace to build up your high as he grapples to hold onto your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, leaving crescent moons in their wake.

“Shit, Sa-Satoru- Ah!” Your hands find their way to his chest, bracing yourself as you lean forward to bounce your hips to slide his glistening cock into your sensitive walls. A whimper escapes your lips each time he uses his grip to push you back down onto his cock harder, meeting your thrusts in the middle so you can feel the vibrations ricochet through your center, sending lightning up your spine.

“Fuck, baby.” His muscles tense with the need to cum, but fuck he wants to enjoy this first. Your skin ripples with the squelching slaps that echo through the room as he braces his feet under him and fucks up into you hard, forcing his cock to bottom out each time. “You can hear your pussy sucking me deep.. B-bet it wants my cum… fuck.. I bet you want it more.”

“N-not yet.” You stammer breathlessly, your fingers dig helplessly into the pillow next to his head. “Want this to keep going.”

“Oh, really?” His hand flies out to grip you by the chin, to get your attention before he smacks your cheek and moves his free hand to smack your center harshly, pulling a rough scream from you that turns into a desperate sob as he continues the movement in his hips while zeroing in on your clit with terrible precision. “I say it's time to cum, baby girl… and make sure to scream my name when you do it. I want the neighbors to hear.”

“P-Please n-no-” You squirm wildly in his hold, as he grunts in frustration, ready to pin you to the bed to pull more out of you, overstimulating you as punishment. Your legs tremble, squeezing shut to prevent him from thrusting into you so harshly and he growls in need as he swaps your positions, holding you to the mattress by your neck and not missing a beat in his thrusting.

“You think you’re the one in charge here?” He grits his teeth and doesn’t hold back as he brings you right to the edge, his fingers tightening as you get closer to make spot dance around your vision. “Fuckin’ give it to me baby. I want another one from you.”

“S-Satoru-!” Your hands claw at the wrist pinning your throat as a particularly hard thrust slams into you just right, making your vision go white. He watches with a satisfied grin as your eye rolls back and your breath stutters out in ragged whines as you soak his waist.

“Nuh uh-” He grapples with your hips, pulling you back into him as he fucks you through your high, bullying himself past the vice grip of your cunt. “God you’re pussy so perfect for me. So f-fucking tight.. Where do you want it, baby girl? You gonna let me finish inside?”

“Please-” Your voice cracks as you sob out for him needily, locking your legs around his waist so he’s forced to trade his long thrusts for a grinding motion. His pace stutters with a low whine before he slams himself into you one more time, burying himself deep as he shoots ropes of cum into you.

You swear your ears are ringing with how long it's taking you to come down. What you don’t expect from him is how he gently rubs the side of your hip as he pulls out of you or how he removes your legs from around him before he dips down a leaves soft kisses on our inner leg before he disappears into a room attached to the bedroom.

You start to shimmy yourself up, looking for where your clothing got thrown before he reappears with a hot washcloth.

“Lay back down.” He grumbles with a slight pout, taking you by the leg to tip you back onto the mattress. You whimper out in embarrassment as he cleans your center and thighs and he simply chuckles at your distress. “Stop that… I can tell you’re about to pass out. Let me help before you go to sleep.”

You don’t have it in you to argue. You’re certainly not planning on staying here until the morning, but he doesn’t need to know that.

You don’t argue when he picks you up bridal style to settle you in the soft array of his bed’s blankets. You find your eyes drooping almost immediately, drifting closed as you wrap your arms around a pillow that smells comfortingly like him.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Three years, four months, twenty-three days, and 13 hours since he woke up with you gone. Not that he was counting.

That morning Gojo had woken up more satisfied than he had been in ages. His hand slid across his smooth sheets to wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest only to come up empty. The purse he had set on the night stand with your clothing neatly folded next to it were gone from their place as well.

He frowns at the memory, expecting that you would have at least said goodbye.

All this time must be penance for all of the women he had burned through and pushed out the door after their hookups. That was in the rare instance that he invited someone to his place, much preferring the ability to slip out someone’s front door in the dead of night like you had. Were the sheets that cold when the women had searched for him in the morning?

Had it been hard for you? Did he make up how good that night was? He tortures himself by thinking about the what-ifs. He imagines that nothing like that has ever been difficult for you. You were so unashamed in taking what you wanted from him. In his deepest thoughts, he fantasizes you’re just as haunted by the memories you made that night and how perfectly your bodies fit together.

And later that day he thanks whatever higher power is out there when he receives a mission assignment for a special grade curse that had cropped up in Siberia and listed under his name was yours.

He reminds himself of this joy as the two of you trudge through the snow of a blizzard after you had successfully landed a killing blow on the curse. They certainly got your promotion to a Special Grade correct.

On the way back down the mountain a snow storm had hit, leaving you stranded until the weather cleared.

“We should have asked the village for clearer directions back.” You snip at him, squinting against the onslaught of white in your vision. “Face it, we're lost.”

“I can teleport us…?” He suggests unhelpfully, happy to sit back and let your brain do its beautiful brain thing.

“Not if you don’t know where we are first.” You sigh in exasperation. “Kill a special grade curse only to die from cold exposure. The higher ups certainly have a sense of humor.”

“What about that cabin?” He points over his shoulder to a mass he spotted in the snow, though he doubts you can see it without the Six Eyes.

He snatches your hand and pulls you along, not waiting for a response. He knows your shivering is starting to slow down which is never a good sign.

“Oh thank fuck-” You groan and hurry inside as he hips the door open, quickly closing it to prevent the snow from entering the small space.

You wrap your arms around yourself, rubbing your arms until they heat up enough to focus on the space around you. It was quaint, but fully stocked. The surface you were currently sitting on was a mattress covered in fur pelts and flannel blankets. It was shoved into the corner to make space for the wood stove that Gojo was currently crouching in front of, already getting the fire started.

“You’re g-g-good at that.” You shiver violently as you shed your soaked outer layer, trading it for one of the large flannel blankets. The second it's wrapped around you for cover you kick off your shoes and your pants, quickly pulling your legs underneath you so none of your skin is exposed to the air.

“I think you give me too little credit in general.” He mumbles loud enough for you to catch it.

You blink at him in shocked silence. Everything had been tense for your trip, the flight here was almost unbearable, let alone trekking through the snowy wilderness together.

“You know…” He starts softly, tracking the sweat that drips down your neck as the hut quickly heats up. “Sometimes I’m convinced I hallucinated it all.” You don’t respond, but when he looks up, the flush on your cheeks is enough to confirm to him you’re thinking about the same thing.

“I don’t think it was fair to leave like that…” He frowns, looking intently at his hands. “You didn’t even ask me what I wanted.”

“I know your reputation… this all seems a bit hypocritical if you ask me. You wanted to hookup and that’s fine. I wasn’t looking for anything-” You start before he cuts you off with a lost look.

“Maybe that’s how it started but… I was content to wake up with to you the next morning and you were gone before I could ask if you wanted to go out to breakfast.”

“I don’t know what to tell you…” You gulp, your heart hammering in your chest. You draw the blanket tighter around you, sweltering in the heat but needing the barrier between you and his blue gaze.

Your cheeks only grow warmer at the memories of that night. How you would have loved to stay if he hadn’t been who he was. Not that he was Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer in hundreds of years, but that he went through women like a child who grew tired of his new toys.

You had never begged a man for anything in your life and you had decided that the night with him would be no exception to your rule. Leaving the bed where he had passed out had been one of the hardest things you had done in your adult life. You’d rather fight a thousand curses than have to do it again, but life wasn’t always fair.

“Tell me you felt something between us. Tell me it wasn’t just me who felt right being near you.” He stands suddenly, walking the short distance to stand in front of you, his eyes pleading.

“I… I c-can’t. You’re not going to change who you are for me-” Your voice cracks, betraying the storm of emotions swirling within your soul.

He moves closer to you, leaning over your frame far enough to force you to fall back against the mattress and planting his hands on either side of your head.

“I would if you gave me the chance.” His eyes are serious and you find that the look is strange gracing his face.

“You’ve said that to a dozen women, haven’t you?” You feel yourself starting to shake, wanting his words to be true but you’re not going to let him hurt you. “Including the ones after me.”

“Never.” His voice is steady, as serious as his gaze as his brow furrow. “There hasn’t been anyone else since, baby. Please.”

“It's been over three years. You really expect me to believe that?” Your chest rises and falls faster as your breath picks up, shifting the blanket to fall open, exposing your chest to the air.

“No, I don’t expect that. But I could convince you it’s actually true.” He leans in further, ghosting his nose up your jaw as he breathes in your scent with a low groan. “You could let me show you what you’ve been missing out on all this time waiting… Please.”

A breath hitches in your throat as he nips at your earlobe, his heavy breath hitting your skin, pulling goosebumps down your spine. Your words fail you, but your body doesn’t, acting on autopilot to take what it wants.

Your hands let go of the blanket entirely, letting the flannel open entirely to expose where you had stripped down to just your bra and panties while you grip the back of his neck, pulling his lips to yours.

Gojo moans low in your mouth, climbing fully on the bed to crawl over your prone form. He braces himself with one hand and sinks the other into your hair, tugging your head back to get a better angle to deepen and slow the kiss.

His pace is worlds different from your first night together. The grip his hands have on you is firmer, more purposeful. Despite the time you had spent apart, he wasn’t rushing this like one the quick fucks you thought he favored. When his tongue pushes past your lips, eliciting a whimper from your throat, he doesn’t greedily lap at you. He swirls his tongue with careful precision, savoring the taste of you.

“Satoru-” You whine as he leaves open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck. How could you properly convey to him how you were burning alive with the need for him to give you just a little bit more?

“So greedy.” He chuckles into your neck, calling back to when he told you to be greedy that first night. “But I wanna take my time with you after waiting so long.”

Any response dies on your lips when he makes his way down to your bra, tugging it to the side enough for your breasts to pop out, immediately latching onto one while his hand kneads the one he’s neglecting.

“N-Now you’re just teasing me, Satoru.” You huff out a moan, pressing your legs together as you feel him smirk against your skin; the little shit. “At least take these off…”

He helps you strip him bare, tossing the shirt into a heap across the hut, quickly followed by his pants and boxers after he kicks off his boots. You take the opportunity to shed your bra and panties, leaving you as bare as he is. Needy hands search him out as soon as he joins you back on the mattress with a chuckle.

“Ya know… a little please and thank you will get you a long way, baby girl.” Shivers wrack your body as he trails his tongue down your stomach to the apex of your thighs, using his fingers to spread your folds, exposing you to his gaze.

Your body squirms at the light touch, screaming for more friction.

“Please fuck me.” You bite out, knowing he’s not going to listen to your request.

“Nice try.” A playful laugh rips through him before he leans in and licks a large stripe up your center before expertly flicking his tongue against your clit, pulling a string of curse from you as your body jolts and your hands fly out to grab him by the hair at his scalp. “That’s it, grind this sopping little cunt against my face baby.” He growls before diving back in, sucking down on you hard the second he shoves three fingers into you without warning.

“Oh my fucking-! S-Satoru- ah! Fucking shit, pl-please-” Fingers bully into you, past your fluttering walls to find the spongey spot inside where they hammer into you until your eyes cross and your ears start ringing. “Satoru- pl-please can I- can I cum please?” Maybe begging will get you what you want at this point. Maybe it will break him down enough so he’ll shove your cock inside of you. “Good fucking girl. Cum for me baby… make a mess out of this face.” He purrs deep in his throat. The vibrations work through you until your muscles shake with the effort of tensing before they snap inwards, making your back arch off the worn mattress, a hoarse scream ripping its way through your throat before the aftershocks start working through your body.

You’re so deep in a subspace that you don’t feel him unlatching himself after he licks your cum clean and he’s shoving his cock into you without preamble.

“Mmmph-! Fuck!” A cry leaves your mouth as you claw at his lower stomach, leaving angry red welts in your wake as you try desperately to get him to slow down so you can breathe, but you already feel another high building.

“Ahhh… Not too much for my baby now is it?” He goads you on, grabbing at your thighs to push your legs closer to your chest. “You take me like you were born for it. Bet you’re still desperate for my cum aren’t you?”

“Fuck, please.” You pant out, trying to catch your breath as his brutal thrusts knock the air out of you each time. “M-missed your cum, ‘Toru. W-want it all.”

“Then you better give me one more baby…” The thrusts don’t falter in pace as his hand sneaks between the two of you. His hand presses into your lower tummy and his thumb reaches to rub quick circles into your bundle of nerves until you're thrown over the edge for the last time.

White, blinding light floods your vision as Gojo moans low and lets your cunt squeeze him, pulling him deeper as he presses as close so he can to explode inside of you.

When you come to, you’re gathered in his arms, his hands grazing carefully across your face as he wipes the sweat that formed there, tucking your hair behind your ear with a soft smile gracing his features.

“You’re even more beautiful than that first night.” He hums to himself. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you always have had a way of crashing into my life and breaking down my assumptions.”

“I think it's my assumption you’re destroying…” You lean into his touch, soaking up the attention you never thought you’d receive.

You both lay there, enjoying the quiet moment you’ve carved for yourself out of this mission by happenstance. You let the storm rage on around you, letting yourselves forget what lies outside these mountains.

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fiapartridge · 3 months

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hii 💌 with macklin celebrini and his celebrity crush! reader ?? teehee 🤭🤭

macklin celebrini x hughes!sister

summary: when a video on the bu hockey instagram blows up, you finally match the name to the most perfect face.

fia's notes: i love mack so much. he's my fave bu boy 💌 also! happy valentine's day! 💌⭐️🍓 OH! and i made this a hughes!sister because...i wanted to... enjoy!!! <3333

Who is your celebrity crush? the whiteboard read as the boys piled off the ice and down the hall towards the locker room. Monday questions were the guys’ favorite or least favorite day depending on which guy you were asking.

Case bounded off the ice, catching the question in the corner of his eye. “Mm, Margot Robbie. One hundred percent,” he pointed at the camera, winking.

Lane Hutson was next as he stumbled down the hall, smiling once he saw the board. He hummed, standing in front of the question as he thought deeply about his answer. “Can I have multiple answers? Yes? Okay, um, I like Meghan Fox sometimes, Alex Morgan is pretty cool, Livvy Dunne definitely, Taylor Swift is a favorite, maybe Ariana Grande but she’s been iffy lately—”

Pushing him off camera, Doug laughed as he read the board. “Jesus, Lane. How many crushes do you have?”

“Hey! There’s a lot of beautiful women out there,” he smiled at the camera as Doug made a gagging noise in the background.

“Aiden!” Doug called for the boy as Aiden laid his stick on the wall and threw his hands to his hips.

“Huh?” he replied.

“Celebrity crush, go.”

Aiden chuckled before shaking his head and pointing to Macklin who was trailing behind him, oblivious to the question. “Why don't we ask Mack over here,” he beamed, grabbing his brother’s shoulders and throwing him in front of the camera. “Macky definitely has someone in mind, don’t you Mack?”

Macklin would have punched his brother square in the face if he hadn’t been standing directly in front of the camera. A light tinge of pink dusted the boy’s features as Aiden teased him for his sudden shyness.

“C’mon Mack, maybe she’ll see it!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” Macklin laughed awkwardly as he raked his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well, if you don’t say it, somebody else will.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he pointed as Aiden grinned at the camera.

“Macky’s in love with Y/N Hughes!” he shouted before Macklin shoved him off camera, the video cutting off as you gaped at your screen.

The video was being sent to you by everyone you knew and every single person you didn’t know, too. Your entire feed was flooded with the boy’s reddened cheeks and awkward smile. The first few times of watching it, you felt bad that the boy was getting blasted on social media for liking you, but after a couple more rounds of watching, you went down a Macklin Celebrini rabbit hole. Your search engine was consumed with his interviews and game highlights. You researched his stats, age, birthplace, which school he was currently attending, everything.

And it didn’t hurt that he was hot and your age. I mean, you weren’t new to the hockey scene being that you grew up in a house full of stars: your dad was an assistant coach for the Boston Bruins, your mom played for the US National Team at the Women’s World Championship, your brother was the captain of the Canucks, and your remaining brothers were playing on the same team in the NHL, breaking records and setting new ones. Your entire life was hockey even though you had nothing to do with the sport in the slightest. No, you were more of a figure skater—an Olympic gold figure skater, to be exact. You were on the ice in a different, less violent way. But you still supported your family and all of their endeavors, and gratefully, they supported yours, too.

So Macklin wasn’t a total stranger. You had heard talks of the projected #1 first pick at the 2024 NHL draft, but you never cared enough to match the face to the name. It’s funny that this is how you found out—sitting on your living room couch surrounded by your protective older brothers who knew his stats like the back of their hand. And they all held a bit of resentment for him.

“He was on Team Canada,” Jack scoffed. “You should not be associating with him.”

“So was Mercer!” you retorted. “And he’s still one of your best friends!”

“He’s also my teammate, Y/N/N. I can’t really not like the guy.”

You rolled your eyes, turning to the oldest who sat on the other side of you. “Quinny?”

He shrugged. “He’s a good kid, good stats, from Vancouver so you already know he’s a Canucks fan,” he smirked. “Let it go, Jack.”

Jack turned towards Luke who sat on the coffee table directly in front of you as he held your laptop on his lap, rewatching the video. “Luke? Thoughts?”

Luke looked up, watching as the three of them stared right back at him. “He’s in college, so at least you know he’s getting an education.”

Jack chuckled. “You were in college and you still have the brain of a monkey.”

Luke stood up, throwing the laptop on the couch as you and Quinn gave each other knowing looks. “And if you went to college, you would know that monkeys are actually really smart!”

You rolled your eyes, huffing as they burned glares into each other’s souls. “Can you guys just shut up!” you shouted. “I’m going to DM him and then I am going to never ask for your guys’ opinions ever again,” you smiled, standing up from the couch and walking towards your bedroom.

“I still don’t like him!” Jack yelled from the living room.

You groaned, not even making a move to turn around and talk to him. You simply shouted from the stairs, “I don’t care!”

You started a conversation with "Macklin Celebrini"!

You: Hii!

Macklin: You saw it, didn’t you?

You: What gave it away?

Macklin: The fact that you probably didn’t know I existed until that video came out.

You: Okayy, true. BUT I enjoyed it!

Macklin: Which part? The part where I was trying not to kill my brother, or the part that became a meme of my face getting so red everyone put tomatoes all over my Instagram comments?

You: Both? To be fair, I thought your blushing was cute.

Macklin: You’re kidding.

You: Not in the slightest. :) So, when are you in Michigan next? Heard there was this super fun lake house there in the summer.

Macklin: I can’t believe this is happening.

You: You would think you would be a bit more enthusiastic.

Macklin: Believe me, my face is crazier than in the video right now, and that’s saying something.

You: I believe it. And actually, that’s just all of my burner accounts commenting on your post.

Macklin: Knew something was suspicious.

You: Oh, definitely. Also…

Macklin: Bad news? I knew this was going too well.

You: No. Just thank your brother for me.

Macklin: For what?

You: For leading me to you.

Macklin: Oh, God, I’ve gone full-on tomato.

You: 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅!

Macklin: IT WAS YOU

#> fias 600 celly! ★#macklin celebrini blurb #macklin celebrini #macklin celebrini imagine #macklin celebrini x reader #boston university hockey #boston university #bu hockey

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puckarchives · 4 months

Text

making it through july: l. hughes

blurb: moments in june, falling in love and getting put back together by luke. / word count: 2.2k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader / tw: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks; general anxiety about getting older and change. part two to "moments in june"

“The movie is my mind is blue — / As June runs into warm July / I think of little else but you.” (Wendy Cope, From June to December.)

When the heat of June melted into the sticky sensation of July, the summer felt almost claustrophobic; the feeling of freedom you had tried to play off as being permanent, while the remainder of the month looming took center stage: a rush of anxiety, of worry, and of anger at the closing of summer.

Now, as you stood at the kitchen island inside the lake house, Luke draped over the sofa with the fan pointed directly at him, you could see the toll the summer had taken on your boy, as well. The once pale skin he wore now a tan, the beauty marks dusted on his cheeks and neck now surrounded by smatterings of freckles — reminders of the kisses you had once laid on that same expanse of skin.

Despite how much you hated to admit it — how much you hated to let the overwhelming feeling of wrongness take over your senses, you knew it was time; time for a conversation between the two of you of what July really meant. For you, July was a marker of anxiety; of homesickness for the boy who was merely six feet away from you, burdened by the same fear you were overcome with during the semester, when the nights of studying, of feeling overwhelmed and as if you would never finished, felt like they’d never truly stop.

It was those nights that spiked the feeling of missing this version of Luke: of missing the way he’d grab your hand, entwining your fingers even if he didn’t mean it. Of the soft touch he’d leave at the back of your neck, his fingers ghosting over the trails of kisses he’d leave when no one else saw him, where the only salvation he ever claimed to know was the taste of your skin. Now, the only taste you could sense was the taste of disappointment; an ash-like memory of the anxiety of being away — a fear that you could feel weeks before you even had to leave. In a way, it was your body preparing you for the pain — the rush of discomfort, of lonely and cold nights, and of resentment in a way.

Now, though, as you walked towards Luke’s lounging form, the boy looked up — opening his eyes and meeting yours as you laid the glass of water and plate of snacks on the coffee table in front of him, and as he sat up to make space for you on the couch — scooting his body away to let you soak up both the warmth of his own body, and the fresh air blowing straight at the both of you. He smiled softly, his curls sleep-addled and his muscles relaxed. In a way, for every single one of your worries, Luke combatted it with his own ability to remain calm — to soak up the same sun you stood by worrying would be gone much too soon.

“Luke?” you asked quietly. He only cocked his head a bit — already being able to mark the tension your body held, and that you carried. As you sat next to him, he stopped you before you could fully reach the couch — instead, stretching out his own legs to they stretched the length of the couch, and where he maneuvered you to sit between his legs — pulling your back to his chest, and working his way fro your hands, to your forearms, to your shoulders with his hands, dragging the tips of his fingers, calloused and scarred from his job, to trail up your body.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he began, his voice cutting through your own stupor. Could he, though? Was he really able to tell that you felt like you were ripping at the seams, so caught up in your own fear of change? Of losing the moments you held on to so dearly?

Almost as if he could sense your thoughts, he nodded, despite the fact that you couldn’t see him. “Yes, I’ve seen it, baby. The way you’ve decided you aren’t allowed to enjoy the rest of our time here because of the fear of what comes after this. Of what comes after June and July and August,” he said quietly. How was it that this boy could read you so well? How could he so easily peel apart the layers of yourself you had tried so hard to keep together?

You could only nod, laying as close to him as you could, and not trying to quell the tears that dripped out. You couldn’t keep pretending like it was fine — like the toll your body was working with was okay anymore. Instead, you let Luke speak — let him drag your hair away from your face, running his fingers through the strands.

“Look, pretty girl, this is what’s going to happen — and before you say anything, before you let the fear overtake every single thought in that pretty little head of yours, I need you to listen to me first, okay?” he asked. “When July is over, we have until August — until you’re so sick of me. When we leave, when I go back to Newark and you go back to Michigian, we’re going to be okay,” he continued.

“We’re going to make it through the summer, and then we’re going to make it through fall and winter, and then spring again. You’re going to go back to school and work your ass off, but you’re going to set boundaries for yourself, we both are, because baby, I refuse to let you worry about this again. Y/N, I love you — since you laughed at my stupid jokes, and since you made my entire family love you, I knew you were mine, and I never want you to doubt that. But, when July ends, I want you to go back knowing that I am always going to be here. Me loving you doesn’t just stop because July comes around,” he finished.

He wrapped his arms around your chest, enveloping your arms in his — he was right. Just because June had bled into July, just because your worry had transformed into a more immediate thing, did not mean that Luke was going to simply disappear; Luke, for all of your worries or your anxieties, was not the summer. He wasn’t simply a month that would come and go every year, but the man who had loved you since he saw you — the man who would put himself and his needs just to take care of you and yours first — something he had proved time and time again. The truth was that Luke was the boy you wanted to spend your Junes and Julys with, who you wanted to watch the summer bleed into the fall with, and who you wanted to continue loving; just because July was here didn’t mean the love between the two of you was as fluttering.

For so long you had forced yourself to see the changing of months as markers for your relationships — for how those around you would treat you; how they would make your time feel almost limited when the summer was over, but with Luke, that changed. With Luke, whether it was June or July, you’d be loved.

“It’s July and I have hope in who I am becoming.” (Charlotte Eriksson, Everything Changed When I Forgave Myself.)

For all of his quirks — his inability to cook, his bad habit of always leaving his dirty shirts on the rim of the hamper instead of inside, or always leaving his keys everywhere, Luke was truly the partner of your dreams — so you tried your best to ensure that you were just as supportive and assuring as he was when he needed the opportunity to breath — to calm the raging storm that you knew was constant in his head. Luke was always there for you — always a sure hand, always a solid companion, and the one individual who knew what you needed the moment you asked.

Knowing this, you still felt your heart clench the moment you felt Luke creep out of your shared bed close to 3AM — unlatching himself from where his arms were encasing you, and where you heard his footsteps retreating from the bedroom, and dwindling down the stairs — hearing the give of the wood under his own large frame as he tried his best to be quiet, and not wake his sleeping brothers.

You did your best to give him some space; despite the fact that you needed to be encased in comfort when you were anxious, Luke wasn’t like that — he needed space, and then he wanted to comfort — needing the reminder that he was solid, and that you were unmoving as well. Turning into the warmth that he left on his side of the bed, you counted from one to sixty ten times; giving him, at the very least, ten minutes to take what he needed before you helped him, as well.

Once you finished counting, you sprang out of bed, sleep be damned. Your boy needed you, and you wouldn’t disappoint him.

Making your way down the stairs — making sure to skip the bottom step so it wouldn’t creak, you walked out to the porch, where you could see Luke’s frame illuminated by the porch lights, small patio lights the two of you had put up at the beginning of the summer. You could see the wide expanse of his back — toned and fit from all of his hours training, almost caving in on himself. Luke, for all his glory, was as anxious as you were, but instead of isolation, he tried to make himself smaller — to fit into the rle he had played for so long as the youngest child.

As you walked outside, you could hear his silent sobs; the shaking of his shoulders a dead giveaway. As you joined him, sitting next to him on the porch, you reached out and put a hand on his shoulder — shaking him up a bit, but ultimately feeling as he turned directly into you, and simply hugged you — enveloping the entirety of your body and dragging you up to your tip-toes as he hugged you, and as he sobbed into your shoulder.

To offer him some sort of reprieve, you rubbed his back slowly — giving him the ability to take the time to let it all out, because as much as Luke knew you, you also knew him — and you knew he had been keeping this in for a while.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay, sweet boy,” you whispered, now running your hands through his hair. “Whatever it is, your brain is playing mean tricks on you. You’re so worthy, and smart, and I am so endlessly proud of you, hmm?” you said, trying to offer as much comfort to the boy as possible.

As Luke’s cries subsided, he brought his face away from your shoulder quickly, and, through a tear-stricken voice, explained the toll that the months had on him, too. “It’s just — I see the toll that this takes on you; that I take on you, and I don’t want to keep hurting you, baby. I can’t keep hurting you,” he whispered, and at that moment, if you hadn’t been outside and the lake hadn’t been less than a hundred yards away, you would've thought you could hear the distinct sound of your own heart breaking into a million tiny pieces; fragments that Luke himself had put together, but that broke again hearing his say that.

Yes, you were anxious, and it did tend to take a toll on you, but it wasn’t his fault — and neither was it something he could fix. You were so proud of Luke — of the fact that he was out there, chasing his dreams and making his own name because of his talent and skill. Did you miss him? Absolutely, but you didn’t want to be the reason he gave up his dreams — the reason he hated doing what he loved.

“Luke, look at me, please,” you pleaded quietly, holding his face and cupping the right side of his face. “None of this is your fault, do you understand me? You have done nothing wrong but wait all summer for me to be myself, and because of you, I have. I’ve had the best weeks of my life here, with you, and I don’t give a fuck if its June or July or fucking December, because you taught me now to,” you started.

“Luke Warren Hughes, I don’t care if it’s the middle of July or it’s January, you are mine, you hear me? You aren’t hurting me or causing me any pain; in fact, it’s the exact opposite — you’ve been the only reason I’ve smiled in so long, and I love you for that,” you whispered, still holding on to him, nodding and making sure he copied your actions — you’d drill this into his head even if it gave you vertigo.

Luke could only look up at you — his face tear-stricken, his curls plastered to his head, and the echoes of pain in his eyes. He nodded, looking at you, before once again bringing you into a hug. You loved him, and fuck if it was July or August; the summer wouldn’t be a deadline or a reminder, but just a change of page. Because, right now, despite being the beginning of July, you still felt like you’d been in love with him for much more than a summer.

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #new jersey devils #nhl imagine #nj devils #hughes brothers #nhl blurb #luke hughes is a sap #making it through july — moments in june #anxiety is okay!!!#please make sure you have a support system i love you

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sunnysanae · 3 days

Text

taking down the general jing yuan

syn. you've been by jing yuan's side through the ebbs and flows of his journey, as his proud disciple, you've learned how to conquer for conquest. he teaches you chess, so you take down the general. cw/settings. fluff, gn!reader, age gap (canonically ~6yrs), mentor-student trope

this was not the first day you found jing yuan pretty. his silver hair framing his face as the summer wind blows them slightly out of place, as he glanced down to the book to his side, beautiful eyes slightly narrowed as he focused on the text. like most days without external duties, his hair was held together loosely in a low ponytail.

this was his form of zoning out, you've figured over the countless summers you've spent with him.

a pretentious smile curved on your lips as your fingers placed down a wooden piece onto the chess board. you were definitely winning this time. lifting your gaze through your lashes, you find the golden orbs of the general staring straight back at you. on his lips dusted an equally complacent smile, eyes waning into little crescents as his eyes met with yours.

the joyful gloss on your expressions was immediately washed away as a deep, grim aura loomed over your features. this sly old fox you thought to yourself. you were losing again, for the tenth time.

"can't do this anymore, general," you huffed out, pouting as you looked off to the window sill. the warm breeze outside brushing your stray hairs aside. he raises his brow at you and shakes his head left-right, and in a tone of faulty disappointment, questions, "lion ate your spirit?"

in a true academy-award-nomination-worthy fashion, he pouts also, biting on his puffy lower lip, "find your mentor too old and boring now as an opponent, that's what it is, isn't it?"

"you-" your eyes snapping back at his, "that's not what it is. you've won nine times jing yuan." signing the nine out with your fingers you raise them to his face, then planting them into your face.

"no," he lays down his next step on the board, "i believe in you, you're my best student, try again," advancing his cloud knight. you have no choice but to retreat, "...that's hardly true." he pushes another piece forward. "jing yuan," you hiss.

goodness.

oh it was clear what he wanted to do now. in a fuss, you jump your piece over his, only to realise you've fallen deep into his scheme. "hmm... yes?" his eyes glimmer, humming to himself at your actions.

you stare at him through your browbone, biting at your knuckles as he raises yet another piece. letting this big pain in the arse win was honestly taking a blow to your ego as if the nine times before were not enough. pausing his hand, he lashes another "kind" smile at you.

"general, i forfeit this match."

he raises his hands behind his back, leaning into his seat, stretching his large arms and releasing a big yawn.

"you kids nowadays..." he starts, not forgetting to side-eye you in the process, "so. boring..." he lightly taps the tip of your nose with his knuckles. a light pink creeps its way up to the apples of your cheek, as you turn your face away from his bashfully.

too close.

he goes on over to the bookshelf to wrap you some of his preserved novels, tying them with a red ribbon. "what's with the rush today?" he paces slow steps to you as he works to tuck the stray strands of hair behind your ears. "you know how eager yanqing is at the food court right, he's going to take it all for himself," furrowing your brows envisioning the event. the tall man sighs, "for once i thought maybe you'd care less about the food and let the young boy eat. you are his senior, you should-"

" 'kay, but 'm hungry" you groan, mimicking zombie poses as you attack jing yuan's torso in an attempt to tickle him. in a swift movement, he lifts you up by your underarms and drops you off the step to his study, you land softly in the grass.

"be back soon," you breathe out, chuckling with a tint of awkwardness as you turn on your heels. goodness, your cheeks must be burning.

almost.

⡈ ⡠ ✩

as yan qing casually inhaled his food, you peeked over at him with distaste. you'd just finished a sparring session with yan qing, this poor boy was the person you took out your anger on. defeating him 9-0 in training, leaving the boy in utter confusion as to why his role model figure was suddenly oppressing him.

"could you eat any louder, yan qing?" you retorted.

the young boy was undisturbed, ingesting with improved pace and sound. you remember the day when jing yuan came home with yan qing, "you know yan qing, i've been thinking..." you'd think he wouldn't hear over all his noise, but you see in his eyes that he's listening attentively.

"maybe, just maybe. i'm saying theoretically-", yan qing responds to your blabber with louder munching noises as he gobbles some water with it as well. "...chill," you nudge him by the shoulder. shifting to almost inches away from his ears, and studying your surroundings, "i think, well, i know, i like jing yuan a lot."

yan qing chokes, a couple rice pebbles spraying from his mouth. you pat his back and offer him a look of slight remorse and apology. laughing as you bring him his cup.

he takes it over and looks straight at you with an awful expression, one you would not want to know the origin of.

"i thought.. i thought you guys were um... married." he scratches the back of his head.

"!?"

⡈ ⡠ ✩

you ran back to the study space since you wanted to find jing yuan again.

well, after all, he was your mentor.

returning to the beautiful study, you took off your shoes at the doorstep. you even out your hurried breath. carefully, you slid open the doors taking small steps inwards making sure you were not disturbing its owner. your mighty jing yuan usually took a nap at this hour after noon.

moments like these really made you feel like you were a family, and honestly, after all these years, who would say you aren't. you've been by each other's side for quite some centuries, and although you are still incapable of beating him in chess, he's learned some brilliant virtues from you as well. two lonely ships, searching for a harbour from the tides of the world.

as expected, you found him hunched over his paperwork at his wide wooden desk, head half-buried in his arms, dozing off with his white locks splayed over on one side of his desk.

you grab a light quilt from the shelf, moving behind jing yuan and covering his back with it. it was the quilt you made for him as a gift some years ago, a light purple in colour with yellow flowers sewn all through the centre. what a horrible combo, you're surprised he hasn't donated it out yet.

sitting down by his side, you brush some of his hair aside. smiling to yourself as you braid some strands together and make buns out of others. he was going to scold you when he woke up, not like he would do anything to stop you.

delicately tracing your fingers by his hairline, then down his forehead, the slopes of his nose, stopping when you've arrived at the cupid's bow of his adorable pink lips. you hadn't realised how close your face was to his, but you could feel his breathing on your fingertips. just as you withdraw your digits from his features, a strong force encases your wrist.

moving backwards out of shock, you trip over the edge of the quilt and your calves cramp from all the training you did this morning. the back of your head makes a loud thump against the tatami flooring, as the general's hand still maintains its grip on your wrist.

his scent revolves around you and enraptures you in a trance, his firm body leaning in against yours. gently lifting his slightly rough finger to the edges of your baby hairs, down to the centre of your forehead. you squirm a bit under his hold with embarrassment. this trickful man wasn't asleep at all. then downwards again, to your nose bridge and across the rosy lining of your upper lip. his touch was just as hot as your face, and you were undoubtedly turning red under him.

advance.

as a final seal to his payback, he presses his finger on your plump lips, tracing them side to side before something dawns on him and he straightens up again.

retreat.

so you follow, and you push him back down, knees securing his sides. he stares at you dumbfounded, pretty lips agape.

jump.

a cocky grin on your lips, "general, do you yield?"

⡈ ⡠ ✩

the pretty general, with all the messy braids and buns in his hair, lying on the flooring of his study with ugly quilts covering the both of you. just as the general most commonly does, he dares to continue until the end, so he shakes his head side-to-side, only managing to choke out a "no."

"good." you lean inwards, imprinting your hot lips onto his.

taking down the general.

#hsr x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan hsr #honkai star rail

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mustainegf · 9 days

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🙏🙏i know uve done some cowboy james but i need more DESPERATELY. he has me wilding

late summer night, ur helping him out in the field w some work or wtv and ur real exhausted so u two hang out in his truck bed and thenn 😇😇 the unspeakable!!!!

Cowboy James I’m drooling

As the last rays of sunlight painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, James and I finally finished our day's work in the field.

Dust coated our clothes, and sweat glistened on our skin from the long hours under the sun.

With a tired smile, James suggested we take a break in the bed of his pickup to watch the sunset.

As we settled in amongst a blanket he’d laid out, the warmth of the day lingered in the air, and a gentle breeze stirred the strands of hair around my face.

I couldn't help but steal glances at James, his features softened by the fading light.

“Isn't this just perfect?" James said, leaning back against the truck bed, his eyes fixed on the sky.

"Yeah, it's beautiful," I replied, my heart racing as I stole another glance at him.

He turned to me, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Almost as beautiful as you."

I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks, but I couldn't hide my smile. "Smooth talker, huh?"

"Just stating the truth," he said, his gaze lingering on mine.

"So, do you always charm girls with your sunset views?" I teased, trying to mask the flutter in my stomach.

"Only the ones worth impressing," James replied with a wink, his gaze never leaving mine.

I laughed, feeling bolder now. "And am I worth impressing?"

His smile widened, his eyes sparkling in the fading light. "Absolutely."

I couldn’t help but sigh contently. “Fuck, fieldwork is a full body work out..”

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“You know, I've heard that sex is a full-body workout too," he said, his tone playful.

I couldn't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within me. "Is that so? Well, I guess we'll have to take your word for it."

James's face gleamed as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping even lower. "You don't want me to prove it?" he said, his tone dripping with flirtation.

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of my lips as I met his gaze, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks. "Oh, do you think you can handle it?"

His grin widened, a challenge sparking in his eyes. "Only one way to find out, darling."

I bit my lip, my heart racing with excitement and anticipation. He seemed so sure of himself, so confident that he could satisfy me in ways no other man had before.

"Well then," I teased, my voice a little breathless.

"Let's give it a go." I scooted forward on the truck bed and palming the bulge in his jeans.

"And what do you have to prove to me, big boy?" I smirked at his contorting face as I applied more pressure to his hard-on.

"Oh you'll see, but not before I cum down your throat," he snipped, grinning at me. Holy shit he had some confidence.

James sat up onto his knees, and I followed, sitting below him. There had been so many night I'd dreamed of James holding me down and slipping himself inside me. And now It was happening.

With a promiscuous giggle, I tugged down his jeans, teasing him through his boxers before I pulled them off aswell.

His cock sprang free and swayed between us. The sight of it made me feel giddy with lust. My fingers trailed over his erection, stroking the length from root to tip before I took the head in my mouth.

The moan that left his lips when I took him into my mouth nearly drove me wild. I wanted to taste all of him, and I wanted to drive him crazy.

James made a makeshift ponytail out of my hair with his tensed fist, guiding my head in blowing him.

I knew I was being a little too eager for a first time, but dammit if I didn't crave every inch of this man.

I deepthroated him twice before pulling back with a moan.

"Goddamn, I can't believe how good you are." I smiled at his words, proud of myself. "And you haven't even cum yet, cowboy.." I said softly, my fingertips grazing his bare thigh as I sucked him back into my mouth.

I heard a soft curse leave him as I swallowed around him, bringing him closer to orgasm. I repeated the action several times, causing the skin around his eyes to crinkle.

I could tell he was close. But I wasn't done yet. I licked and sucked and kissed his cock until he reached his limit, shooting his cum down my throat.

I swallowing everything he gave me until he finally finished. For a second there, I thought he would never stop, but eventually he did.

He lowered himself, kissing me like he was afraid he might never get another chance. I felt the same way. "I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you," he said in a hushed voice.

"me too, James..." I moaned as he began to strip me down.

I didn't care where we were or who saw us. All I cared about was how much I wanted him and how much I wanted to prove that.

As he tore off my bra, my breasts were exposed to the warm evening air, and James ogled at the sight of them.

I had to admit, I liked the way they looked. "Those tits were made for sinning," James groaned cupping each breast in turn. "Just fuck me, James.

Please... I need you inside me.." he growled as he ran a finger over my nipple.

It was crazy to think that an hour ago we were finishing our fieldwork, and now he was minutes away from fucking me in the bed of his truck.

James tore his shirt off and scooted too lay back on one of the walls of the cargo bed. I shimmied out of my denim shorts and panties, making sure to tease him as they came off.

I climbed on top of him and braced my hands on either side of his chest. I was pleased to see the look of desire on his face as I slowly slid down onto his thick cock.

I had to admit, James felt pretty damn good. So good, that I could easily get used to having him inside me. I started moving on top of him, finding my rhythm.

The breeze danced across my body and it sent goosebumps skating across my flesh. If anyone happened to be watching, I didn't care. In fact, I hoped they enjoyed the show.

The thought turned me on even more and I picked up the pace, fucking him harder. His hips bucked against mine and his hand tangled in my hair, pulling me down to kiss him.

I rocked my hips against him as I licked his lips and his tongue slipped past my lips and danced with mine. James shifted beneath me, driving himself deeper into me and I let out a gasp.

"James!" I yelled out into the warm empty field.

"That's it, right there." James groaned, hot grip tightening around my hips.

I moved faster, moaning louder as I continued to ride him. I reached between us and found my clit, rubbing it roughly as he thrust up into me.

When my orgasm hit, my entire body tensed. It washed over me, consuming me completely. I screamed his name as he came deep inside me, keeping me tight around him as he came.

Afterward, we laid together in silence. I hadn't felt this safe in so long. As if he was the only person in the world who knew how to make me feel this way.

It felt so right to be here with him.

I rested my head on his shoulder as he softened inside me. My fingers trailed delicate shapes and patterns on the nape of his neck.

"Fuck, that was good," James heaved. The smell of sweat and sex filled the air.

James tilted his head, smiling down at me. "Hey beautiful."

"Hey handsome," I responded, pressing my lips to his. He glanced up at the sky and sighed. "It's almost time to call it quits." My stomach dropped, and my heart raced. "Time to go home?" He nodded. "Hmm."

"Don't worry, why don't I take you home, then I can fuck you properly, how's that?" He teased.

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sailing-through-hawkins · 11 months

Text

inspired by this anon ask given to @steddieas-shegoes because i'm ALWAYS down for lovestruck not-exactly-human-anymore eddie (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) it's not perfectly written to the prompt with the demon-ness and swaying around the kitchen but it was fun to write!!!

To become more, you must sacrifice that which holds you back.

The things that limit you.

The people.

Henry had become more. He left ashes behind his every footfall and, in turn, became the god that he is, the god he was always meant to be.

Humanity does not share this fate, he is sure. Eleven had proved that even those who have only potential will always bend to the confines of their limitations.

They must have the will to break free of the cage.

The ambition.

Henry walks along, his creatures making way for his path. They shiver and keep their distance, in awe of his control, his power. He almost smiles.

In front of him lies a body, void of life, of purpose.

Perhaps, he thinks as he raises a hand, perhaps he can give it purpose.

Perhaps those who have potential just need his aid to find the will for it.

It takes time, too much time, too much of humanity has tainted this one, but his new creature finally rises.

It stares up at him, loyal and keen. More readable than his other creatures, more cunning, more like him.

Yes, this realm's god has made it in his perfect image.

Stronger, faster, sharper. More powerful than what was, it is perfect.

And even more perfect as he hears the distant shrieks of his creatures. Someone is slaughtering them, attempting to destroy his vision.

Attempting to ruin the world's evolution.

He watches through the eyes of the lone survivor, flying high above the carnage, sees a young, grimy boy, swing a weapon into the neck of his beautiful creatures with a snarl on his face.

The violence of humanity disgusts him.

The boy drops the weapon, running towards another, a girl on the ground. She is weak and will die soon enough, he is sure.

"Robin, Robin, are you - shit, shit, shit, that's blood -"

"Steve, it hurts so fucking bad, I - I'm - oh my god, it hurts -"

"It's okay, c'mere, I got you, it's gonna be okay -"

"Go," he says to his creature, turning his nose when it tilts his head. Still too much humanity. Perhaps not as perfect as himself. "Find the boy. Steve. Ensure he does not get another chance to delay us."

His creature knows what he saw, had seen it with him. It bows its head and begins its flight to the other world.

"Soon," he says, staring up at the thundering skies with an almost-smile. "Soon, it will all burn. Ready...to be reborn."

"No, no, stop, please -"

Steve laughs as Eddie blows raspberries into his neck, long and keen tail wrapped around his wrist.

Eddie sits on the counter, arms wrapped around Steve's neck as he pulls him further into the space between his legs, poking a cold nose into the skin where his neck meets his shoulder.

"Come on, you've proven your point," Steve tries squirming away but the tip of Eddie's tail just swoops in under his shirt to softly tickle his sides, where the bite wounds are still sensitive, and he can't stop the burst of laughter pealing out of him. "Eddie!"

"The demon lord requires more, a much greater sacrifice," Eddie says dramatically into Steve's neck, arms tightening around his neck. Eddie inhales and yells, "It's your pride!"

With a squeal, Steve muffles his laughs into Eddie's shoulders as Eddie tickles him even harder. "Okay, okay, I give, I give," Steve manages to say between his bouts of giggles. "I give, you win, oh Great Demon King."

"That's Mr. Great Demon King to you," Eddie sniffs as he loosens his grip on Steve and hops down the kitchen counter. Brushing off imaginary dust, because Steve and Robin keep this place clean as fuck (mostly Steve since Robin almost got her leg chewed off that one time, but she makes up for it by yelling directions at him), he turns around and pretends to walk away very slowly.

"C'mere," Steve grabs his hand and spins him around, leaning back against the counter with Eddie in his arms. The fake snooty expression on his face melts away when Steve curls a lock of hair behind his pointed ear, cupping Eddie's jawline gently. His thumb strokes his cheek, gliding over the stretched, scarred skin. "Hey."

Eddie's eyes, brown and red and like there's a whole world inside them, soften and he bumps their foreheads together as the purr in his chest starts up. "Hey yourself, handsome."

He's been really cold ever since he came back but he doesn't seem to care much. Steve cares a lot, maybe more than he needs to, and always tries to keep him as warm as possible with sweaters, blankets, whatever works. In this moment though, where Eddie's pressed against him, the kitchen lights making a golden light behind him like some kinda halo (the irony makes him grin), his horns like little upside down vampire teeth. Maybe there was something to the vampire theory, he thinks as he ruffles the curls at the back of Eddie's neck.

"Steve," Eddie sighs, his eyes closing as he smiles goofily, fangs poking into his bottom lip and wings fluttering.

"Yeah?" Steve smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to Eddie's cheek.

"Just wan'ed to say it." Eddie nuzzles into Steve's cheek with the mumble, sighing again when Steve wraps his arms around Eddie's waist, his tail winding up the sleeve of Steve's shirt. "Like sayin' yer name."

Something bubbles up in Steve's chest and he giggles to let it out, the warmth and sweet affection pouring out of him. "Yeah? I like saying yours too."

"Then say it," Eddie's head quickly shoots up and he stares at Steve, the tip of his tail flickering back-and-forth on Steve's forearm the way Tews' does whenever Dustin swings a toy in front of her face. His pupils are massive, way bigger than any human's should be, and it makes his eyes look even bigger. "C'mon, say it."

Steve hums, tilting his head one way, then the other, laughing when Eddie huffs and pouts at him. He leans in closer, pressing a kiss to his nose, and says softly, "Eddie."

The gust of wind that Eddie's wing-flapping causes is so strong it makes the entrance door slam against the wall and makes Steve jump, but he just laughs when Eddie's wings stretch up and around them both awkwardly in apology.

"Think it's time for dinner, angel," Steve whispers into the tiny space between them.

"Call me angel one more time," Eddie whispers back with a glint in his eye. "And I'll show you exactly how unholy I can be."

"Whatever you say," Steve grins and boops Eddie's nose. "Angel."

"That's it!" Eddie hunches down and lifts Steve over his shoulder, bouncing his way around the kitchen. "The Great Demon King has declared no dinner for defiant knights!"

Steve laughs and shoves at the wings crowding over his head, "What if I used true love's kiss to appeal to the judge?"

The bouncing pauses and Steve blinks when he finds himself right in front of Eddie again, his limbs bound by Eddie's tail and hands. Eddie squints at him and sniffs, the snooty expression snobbier than ever. "The Great Demon King rejects your offer and demands five true love's kiss in repentance."

Rolling his eyes, Steve pecks the corner of Eddie's mouth, grinning when the tip of his tail wags back-and-forth again. "Well, when you put it like that, how could I say no?"

#sailor✧writes #steddie #au content: kas!eddie #writing #ficlet #kas!eddie #kind of #did i really spend half an hour making my own text divider for this post yeah i did and it's so fun to look at i love it #also henry was wrong about robin btw she didn't die he just overestimates how fragile people are #he's also got a massive god complex the upside down creatures weren't worshipping them they're scared of him #one day i'm gonna write a kas fic where all the upside down creatures band together and get rid of him i think it's what they deserve

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superbattrash · 4 months

Note

Do you have any Superbat fic recs? Just kind of stumbled on the ship and am already excited by the notion.

Hiiiii sweetheart! Welcome to the bright and sunny side of superbat shipping ~ *blows dust off my laptop that I haven’t turned on in a month* oh gross, there are actual spiderwebs on it... I'm so sorry, Maggie. Ahem, first of all. Any and all fics by these talented people: @frownyalfred, @superbatdisasterblog, @susiecarter, @sassyresacon1990 (I know I'm forgetting a lot of people but it's been a while okay)

This is just handful of my ultimate favs, if you need more I'm always more than happy to go through my bookmarks!

tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter (rated M)

It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.

Condersing Conditions by LeCadavre_1904 (rated E)

Before Bruce and Clark fall into bed for the first time, Bruce has an unusual condition.

Clark is as obliging as always.

don't push me (cause I am close to the edge) by LinguisticJubilee (rated G)

Kara huffs out a breath in frustration. “Every Kryptonian has a heartsong. And they’re beautiful, but when you listen to one on its own it feels like something is missing. It’s like...they have something like this too, right?” She gestures outward impatiently, and Bruce forces himself not to flinch at her casual use of they. “Only they have words written down instead.”

“Soulmates,” Clark says, his voice strained.

The word hits Bruce like a bullet through the lung. He keeps his face perfectly relaxed, his heartbeat calm and regular, as he realizes (too late, he's always too late) that he should have expected this all along.

fallin' for him was like fallin' from grace by Resacon1990 (rated T)

“But Bruce isn’t gay?” Clark points out, and there’s an awkward moment of everyone clearing their throats and avoiding Clark’s eyes until he turns to stare at Bruce. “Are you?”

Bruce blinks for a moment before offering a sheepish smile. “I’m not… not?” he offers, and Clark feels his brain just about short-circuit at the news.

Or, five times Clark finds himself falling for Bruce, and the one time he does something about it

No Church in the Wild by TheResurrectionist (not rated but OUCH ANGST)

"I'll have a contingency plan."

"If you're the first face he sees, you'll need it."

Bruce brings Clark back by himself.

smokin' in the boys' room - by The Ressurectionist (not rated but both blood and dicks, so rated Misha HAPPY) (I cannot tell you how many times I've reread this one GUUUHHH)

Bruce Wayne -- billionaire playboy, owner of, at most, three brain cells -- beaten up at his own charity gala. Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises out of nepotism and dumb luck, whose business wasn’t touched by corruption purely because of incompetence -- Bruce Wayne, airheaded and still generous, still kind, bloody in a stall and trying to hide it.

His hand clenched on the stall door, crumpling it between his fingers. His eyes weren’t burning yet, but barely.

“Who did this to you?”

I Would I Might Forget That I Am I by susiecarter (rated T)

Clark Kent woke up, ate breakfast, went to work—the same way he did every day. Ordinary.

Except for the part where Superman hadn't been seen in at least a week and nobody knew why, Lois was acting kind of weird, and Bruce Wayne was insisting that Clark was the only reporter he'd allow to run a feature on the crashed alien ship in the park, since Wayne Enterprises had been granted control of the site. And the way Clark felt every time Wayne looked at him a little too long definitely wasn't helping.

But it was fine. Clark was normal, there was nothing wrong with him, and everything was fine.

Satisfaction Brought It Back by slippin_into_dakrness and SpiritsFlame. (rated G) (This one is my comfort comfort comfort read!!!)

Bruce always thought that Superman's cute shtick of rescuing cats from trees was a bid for publicity—until a confrontation with a magic user leaves him stuck as a cat. He learns how mistaken he was when Superman not only rescues him, but takes him back to a small Metropolis apartment. The opportunity to learn more about the alien can't be ignored, but is Bruce ready for everything he will learn about someone he has only ever regarded with distrust and dislike?

#mishask #superbat fic rec #long post #sorryyyyyy I should've kept it shorter but I wanted to summaries in case you were curious before reading

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suguwuus · 4 months

Note

Hii babe!! Omg I’ve been obsessed with your pajama pants book on wattpad for years I can’t believe I found your tumblr, ur my favourite Connor writer.

Anyway I figured I’d send an ask!! Maybe something with a daughter of Aphrodite reader? Could you do protective connor plss, I don’t rly mind the scenario whether it’s creepy guy or like in a battle or whatever.

Thanks so much!! 🩷🩷

HEYYY HII OMG thank u blushes kicks feet!!!

the damsel in distress trope is so outdated and children of aphrodite def have sparkly pink bejeweled weapons so this being set on the battlefield is crossed out of the list. also i dont like the ending but idk ??

edit: im sorry if this didnt meet your expectations of protective connor idk i feel like it's off or boring so feel free to ask for a redo or another one w this situation 😭😭😭😭 not sure if i interpreted ur req right but lmk if i did or if u have anything to say

wc: 1.7k words

contains: erm the general creep u meet while minding ur own business idfk that's literally it

"G'morning, beautiful." Connor smiles down at you as you wake up from your rest. How many hours was that? Three? Four? A few hours as your beauty rest was better than none, so you let that worry go and sucked it up.

"Morning, Connor," you replied, your voice as sweet and smooth as ever. Your resting place today was hidden between two dumpsters behind a convenience store. At first, the idea revolted all three of you on the quest, but the events that followed that night gave you no choice, and the smell would mask your scent from any monsters. Fortunately, you had your perfume balm on you, enchanted to last for days, so smearing the stuff under your noses was a big help to battle the stench of the dumpsters.

You laid a hand on your boyfriend's shoulder. "Feeling better?" After getting into a car crash last night, his body was probably sore. He pulled a muscle in his shoulder, too. His brother Travis was knocked unconscious, so after hauling him through streets, you two had no choice but to seek shelter somewhere hidden. You only found out, when the sun rose, that you were stationed behind a convenience store. Great. Those things were like playgrounds to the sons of Hermes.

Connor stood up and stretched, testing his shoulder. "Yes! Good as new. Man, I wish mortal stores had stuff flavored with something that tastes like ambrosia."

You gazed up at him, pleased with the state he was in now. "Glad to hear," you smiled.

"Wait, they do. I love salt and vinegar chips. Oh, man, I hope Travis finds some."

You wrinkled your nose, but at the mention of food, your stomach growled. Aside from doing your best to nurse the boys back to a decent state last night, you also took first watch. That, and exhausting all your fighting skills, left you hungry.

You rummaged in your bag for a bottle of water to start your day as Connor picked up his. There you found your plastic bag of half-finished ambrosia, a flask of nectar, your first aid kit, your last change of clean clothes, your hair clip that transformed into your celestial bronze crossbow with a beaded charm around the handle, a magic blow-drier for emergencies, and—there it was.

"Travis is inside. Let's go?" Connor held out a hand and helped you up from the ground, and the two of you walked into the convenience store. You caught a glimpse of Travis, but he didn't catch sight of you back. So instead you put your water back into your bag and headed for the bathroom.

There wasn't much work to do. Just a bit of dusting off your pants and a quick wash of your face and hands to feel clean. As always, you looked perfectly put together, roughed up but in a movie star way, thanks to being a daughter of Aphrodite. It was like those scratches and stray hairs framing your face were strategically placed by a personal makeup artist.

Zipping up your jacket in a way that complimented your figure and the rest of your outfit, you nudged the bathroom door closed with your foot on the way out. Neither of the boys were inside anymore. While you scanned the aisles for them, you felt a pair of eyes on you and turned towards the counter to see a toothy man wearing a puffer vest standing in line. "You lost, sweetheart?"

You didn't like how he looked you up and down. How you felt like you were being examined under his stare. You picked it up immediately, and it made your fists tighten. You simply shook your head, then made for the exit.

Travis and Connor were munching away at breakfast sandwiches and bagels. They handed you a sandwich of your choice and a bottle of yogurt drink and you ate it without complaint, the previous occurence quickly disappearing from your mind.

"Thanks," You mumbled, and then peeked into Travis's paper bag. It had even more sandwiches and snacks inside. Quickly, he wrapped them all up and stuffed them in his bag. "Snagged some extras on my way out." He grinned, satisfied with his work.

"Still headed for the next city hall, right?" He asked.

"Mhm." You took a folded up map out of your back pocket and opened it up. "There's a bus stop right there." You nodded in the general direction of the shed, tracing a manicured finger along the map.

You had to be honest, you were only doing that to look cool. Your dyslexia slowed you down in trying to look for your current location.

You followed Travis and Connor to the waiting shed, passing the map to the former. "Let me do that, love," Connor said as you sat down and began to open your yogurt drink. He took his seat beside you and opened your drink for you, passing it back along with a kiss. The gesture made your stomach flutter. No matter how many people would throw themselves at you and try to get your attention, nothing would ever beat the way Connor made you feel with his princess treatment.

However, your mood immediately soured when the guy from inside the convenience store appeared, sitting beside you and doing a little stretch. When he was done, he turned to you and smiled.

"You're a pretty one, you know that?"

The man's voice was gravelly and he sounded like he needed a drink. You kept your eyes on whatever you could stare at on the other side of the street. "Thank you," You replied.

"You here alone?"

"No," You replied, holding back the urge to grit your teeth. You started to tap your designer boots on the concrete, impatiently awaiting the bus.

"Hm. A doll like you shouldn't be here all by yourself."

You didn't reply. Internally, you gagged and made a face and cussed him out for having the audacity.

Connor tensed up beside you; you could feel it. You huffed and checked your nails, bored. Time seemed to go exceptionally slow while you were in this situation.

When you finally forced your head to turn to see why Connor was so pissed, you saw the guy literally ogling you, a smile on his face with dark eyes that seemed to bore into every bit of you they could find.

It was disgusting. You felt disgusting. Your skin crawled.

You crossed your arms over your torso and scowled, trying to seem as unappealing as possible. Desperate times call for desperate measures, or whatever the saying was. You put a hand on Connor's knee to reassure him that you could handle it, and switched on your meanest girl voice.

"Don't you know it's rude to stare?" You shot the guy your meanest girl glare. It worked, for a second, because the smile melted off his face.

Travis came along, pulling out a pouch where he kept fake ID's and documents in case you needed them. He settled beside Connor, who had draped an arm across your shoulders, and took off his sweater.

The man glanced up at him as he passed by, relentless with his questions. "Is that your boyfriend?"

"No, this is." You moved aside to show Connor. You didn't dare break eye contact with the man, you wanted to show that you weren't afraid.

The man's frown grew deeper. "Well!" He chuckled. "Lucky guy."

Connor cleared his throat beside you. You squeezed his knee, and as curious as you were to see how he looked (because he was hot when he was pissed) you flashed the creep your fakest smile, words laced with poison.

"Your mom never told you not to talk to strangers? It's dangerous, you know." He started to force a laugh, but you cut him off, continuing. "Stop talking, because I don't have any time to waste on you, dickhead."

There was a beat of silence as he processed your words. You cracked a smile and turned back to face the opposite side of the road, satisfied with yourself. But then you heard the rustle of that stupid puffer vest.

"Hey, now, sweetheart, don't be hard. You know, if you're here on vacation, I can tell you a few good places to visit, let me tell you—"

You had just settled your eyes back on your multiple bangles and bracelets when you heard a loud smack from where the man was sitting. Connor stood between you and him and your lips parted in surprise with how quick he was. His hand was raised and the man was clutching his own, face red and showing an expression of pain. You couldn't see Connor's face, since he had his back turned to you, but you could feel how tense the hand that was on your shoulder was.

The bus finally pulled over in front of you. Travis nudged you and Connor took your hand with a stiff one. "C'mon, Y/N, let's go," he said. You eagerly stood up, keeping his hand in yours, but he didn't move. Instead, he waited for the creep to board and when he did so, he looked over his shoulder to steal one last glance at you.

You raised up your middle finger at him, but to your surprise, Connor even gave him a shove further down the aisle as the two of you followed.

Connor and Travis made sure he was seated far, far back in the bus before settling into seats with you. Connor gave you the window seat and the three of you got comfortable, though Connor was still muttering curses under his breath. You sent Travis a thumbs up gesture when he looked at the two of you.

Connor didn't relax even after the bus set off, but he did kick his bag under the seat and take your hand back in his. He planted a kiss on your temple, then your hand. "You alright?"

You nodded. "Nothing I can't handle," You assured him. "Horrible morning, but it's fine."

"Bastard was about to touch you," He muttered, lips moving against the back of your hand. "No one touches my girl if she doesn't like it."

"Mhm." You gave his hand a squeeze back, just as you always do to let him know it's okay.

#guys i don't like the ending #— suguwuu's posts #connor stoll #pjo #connor stoll x reader #pjo x reader #pjo oneshots

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heliads · 3 months

Note

If requests are still open :) Something for dead poets society, just sth with the gang having a good time, maybe trying to stage a play in the woods? Tbh just a everyone lives and is happy AU with fluff and winter and hot tea! (while I love this book I havent read it in a very long time...)

ok consider an everyone lives au but they are not 100% happy. (i am incapable of not writing angst my apologies) also this is movie dead poets society not book because i have not yet read the books whoops. hope you enjoy xoxo

'and it's not tonight' - dead poets society

masterlist

Todd Anderson is looking out the window at a gray, blustery morning, when they ask him if he’s going to be alright. It wasn’t quite certain before then. It’s not quite certain now, either, even after he answers.

“Of course,” he says somewhat unconvincingly, “Why do you ask?”

Behind him, Charlie Dalton raises a dubious brow. For once in his life, he’s holding himself back, but the situation requires discretion, and who is he to mess up at a time like this? He’s already been warned about treating Todd like a glass doll rather than a paper mache target, but even Charlie can tell that now is the time to pull a few punches. The hollows under his friend’s eyes are far darker than they were a couple of months ago. He wears unease like a well-traveled coat, thin at the elbows and rubbed raw at the seams.

“Look at yourself,” Charlie answers at last, “You’re exhaustion walking. And don’t tell me otherwise, I’ve got eyes.”

“I should hope so,” Todd remarks, and permits himself a small curl of his lips up into a half-smile. Half-smiles are good, though. Almost there to the real thing. So he’ll tell himself, at least.

Even a half-smile can let Charlie know that he’s alright. The other boy breaks into a well-intentioned snorting laugh. “Hey, ask any girl in town and they’ll tell you I’ve got beautiful ones. ‘Sides, Anderson, you know everything’s alright. The stuff with Neil was cleared over, right? He came back.”

“He came back,” Todd repeats somewhat weakly.

“Yeah, yeah, he came back,” Charlie confirms, walking over to clap his friend on the shoulder, shaking him a little bit just to mess with him but mainly to get his affections across. “He’s a little more tired than he used to be, and we’re all plenty scared from what could have happened, but overall we’re glad to see him again. His parents realized they messed up in the nick of time, and even if they wanted him under watch for a little bit, he’s back and we’re back and everything’s alright. Capiche?” He asks dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows for a bit of flair.

“Since when are you Italian?” Todd asks doubtfully.

“Since the situation requires it,” Charlie answers him, and slings an arm around the boy’s bony frame. “Come on now. The snow’s cleared up, and even if all that does is remind us how little grass grows on our campus, it means we can go into the woods again. I’ve been talking to the boys and we all agree that it’s time to dust off our finesse with literature. What do you say, Todd? You up for another rousing poetic exchange tonight?”

Todd jerks his head up and down in a hasty agreement. “Yeah. Neill’ be there?”

“Yeah, and me, and Knoxie, and everyone else you forgot to mention,” Charlie says in a tone of mock outrage. “God, you live with the guy, don’t you? Can’t you spare some excitement for the rest of us, too?”

Todd rolls his eyes, and finds the grace to elbow Charlie in the ribs. “Spare me the self-indulgence, Dalton. I’m glad to see all of you.”

“Don’t I know it,” Charlie affirms. “It’s been a while since we were all together, yeah?”

Todd blows out a low breath as they walk back towards the halls. It has been a long time, or it felt that way, at least. After the– after the incident after the play, in which Neil was found in his father’s study with a gun in his hands about to blow the trigger, it was decided that all of the pupils of Welton Academy would go home for a short period of time to clear their heads and come back ready to face the end of term.

Mainly, Todd thinks it was so rumors couldn’t spread about just what happened with Neil Perry to take him out of school, and he’s glad for it. Neil doesn’t deserve to have everyone whispering about what happened to make him decide that the best thing for his life was to end it. Neil deserves the world, and none of them could give it to him.

That was the worst part of it all, Todd decides. The guilt, how it wrapped around him in wires as strong as the heaviest chains of iron. He couldn’t escape it. If he was really Neil’s friend, he would have known. If he was really Neil’s friend, Todd could have stopped him. If he was really Neil’s friend, Todd wouldn’t have found out about the attempt the next morning, quietly awoken from drowsy sleep by a Charlie Dalton with eyes like a stricken soldier as he lurchingly informed Todd that Neill Perry had tried to kill himself the night before. And none of them had known. And when his father had taken the gun away, Neil fought and screamed for it, worse than he did when he tried to convince his parents that he wanted to act, louder than he protested that he would be sent away to military school.

And then they were alone. At home. The worst place for boys to be. Should you grieve the friend who is not dead? Do you call each other on the phone, and ask if you have been playing any sporting games with other boys your age, or if you have given any thought to the fact that your friend might not have wanted to die if you had praised him more in class, or clapped louder when he performed, or said something– anything– to this beautiful, brittle boy?

They don’t say any of that. They think it quite loudly, but unspoken thoughts do not travel well over the telephone. The flittering ghosts of would-be words tend to get lodged in the coils of wire from receiver to housing, across the street and over the miles of terrain until they reach the abode of the boy on the end, who also has a lot to say but won’t. And then they both stay silent. And they both know exactly what the other wanted to say anyway. That is how friendship works.

They came back, though. Welton sent out a series of letters to usher back the pupils, even had its secretaries working overtime to call the people who never seem to answer their mail. There was another rush of cars and luggage to the dorms, and then they were settled in again. Todd had wondered if he might be assigned another roommate– anyone other than Cameron, God, but preferably Neil still– and then the door had opened quietly and Neil was there again, trying for a brave smile, and saying, “Todd?” in a voice that had once rung pure and true through a theater that loved him.

Todd loves him for it. He’d embraced Neill with open arms, felt the air punch out of his lungs in one strike, but it came back. He came back. They were alright again, sort of. They might be alright in time, but time is what they have.

Now they’ve all been waiting for the snow to melt, and treading on thin ice around topics they don’t dare broach. Neil has been a good sport, never making them feel awkward for wanting to treat him like a china doll. He was good before, too, though, and– It gets hard to tell sometimes, that’s all. Hard to tell when he genuinely is unbothered and when he’s superbly good at pretending otherwise. They stick to safer subjects anyway.

At last, though, the ground is firm, the weather not terrible, and Charlie’s gone and rallied the troops for a night out there. At first, Todd’s first instinct is to panic. They aren’t supposed to be having any more meetings of the Dead Poets Society, not since Keating was the scapegoat for all the trouble and everyone cracked down on what makes a good boy want to escape, but over time he realizes that it’ll be alright. Some things are worth the risk. Making Neil smile again is one of them.

They meet at midnight. Todd sits awake with bated breath, even though the act by itself isn’t even all that unusual. They’re teenage boys. Staying up until the moon hangs high and lofty in the sky is expected, not uncommon. Still, a delicious shiver of inherent wrongdoing whispers down his spine when Neil walks slowly into the center of their shared dorm room and says quietly, reverently, “It’s time.”

As if the others had been waiting upon that very proclamation, the remaining boys peer out into the hall immediately after Neil and Todd silently close their door behind them. Their eyes meet with shared secrecy, shared triumph, and they make their way down the wooden stairs and out into the bristling chill of night. The stars are out tonight. We are all out tonight.

They all start heading out into the woods. Charlie takes off like a flash at the end of a matchstick, hurtling at a runner’s sprint across the hills, and the others follow him at varying speeds. Todd begins walking at a normal clip until it occurs to him that he doesn’t see enough heads bobbing around him and he turns to see Neil hesitating by the door.

They lock eyes, and Todd sees a whole host of things swimming in brown irises, fear and apprehension and a sick sort of guilt that makes Todd’s stomach squirm in sympathy. He gives Neil one last moment over the threshold, then jerks his head towards the others, putting a little faux arrogance into the gesture in the hopes that an actor might appreciate an act in someone else and remember what it is like to trust oneself again.

Neil accepts the move and grins, his teeth flashing in the moonlight. “I’ll race you to the caves,” he calls, and begins to run, his footsteps sure and strong.

Todd stares after him, an astronomer watching his first comet, then takes off after him. The grass is dry and quick under his feet, spread out under each footstep like the wake of a speedboat. The wind, already coarse, pulls at Todd’s skin, his hair, his clothes, but not even the strongest gusts could keep him down. Somehow, he’s already to the edge of the forest, and he lets out a loud, delighted whoop. A barbaric yawp, if you will. Somewhere in the back of Todd’s mind, a dark-haired man in a comfortable brown sweater smiles indulgently, and chalks up another small victory to the wonders of poetry.

The second his war cry leaves Todd’s throat, the other boys swarm him like moths to a flame. Someone claps a hand over his mouth, and around him, laughs echo into the crunching of leaves underfoot.

“Don’t be so loud, you’ll get the professors on us in no time,” someone admonishes, but then a different boy cuts in, “Don’t be stupid, we’re far enough out that we can all be shouting,” and Todd’s punishment is lifted and he can yell once more. His defender– Neil, it must be, no one else can make their voice ring with glory like that in just a few words– joins in in the triumphant calls, and then they’re all shrieking up to the stars above, here we are, not boys and not men, bold enough to scream and young enough to never listen.

Todd thinks, as they run through the forest, that it’s been a while since he let himself go free. He hasn’t listened to his mind in a long time, hasn’t let the words roll around in his brain, loose marbles of similes and paraphrased poems. His musings are dusty, dark things most of the time, but sometimes the light catches them just right and they glow like sapphires. He could write a thousand stanzas if he wanted to, right now, and everyone would listen.

The Dead Poets Society reaches the caves and a hush falls among the crowd. Slowly, they edge inside, eyes wide. The rock faces and crumbling caverns should be different, Todd thinks, something should mark the passage of time and all the awful things that have twisted their fates since the last time they sat together and thought of prose, but the stones still look as they did the last time they were here. The moss grows in familiar patterns, albeit a little thicker in certain patches now that it hasn’t been scuffed by boots in a month or so, but one of Charlie’s magazines that he forgot to take back with him turns up under some spiderwebs, and Todd’s favorite place to sit is still just as inviting. Maybe, then, the only thing that changed was them. Maybe that’s all that needs to happen.

“So?” Meeks asks, settling into a seat, “What are we doing tonight?”

“Poetry, duh,” Charlie answers him, rolling his eyes fondly. “We’re the Dead Poets Society. What else would we do, peruse our textbooks?”

This earns him a vengeful swat on the shoulder from Meeks, but even Charlie can admit that the question was fair. They’ve read plenty of poems, they’ve written a few, they’ve even gone off and run some improv limerick challenges, although Todd notes that they haven’t brought nearly enough alcohol for that tonight.

After a few moments’ thought, someone suggests a play. It might be Todd. Instantly, the idea is accepted, and roles are divided out. They’ll be doing Hamlet, since there are plenty of long sticks outside and everyone is quite fond of the idea of pretending to run each other through. Pitts is already practicing his death rattles, except he’s not very good at it, and it sounds more like he’s hacking up a lung or two.

Neil, though, is glowing at the idea, and even though they haven’t got any scripts so everyone is mostly just planning on paraphrasing the hell out of one of William Shakespeare’s finer works, Todd gets the idea that Neil has a few memorized soliloquies rattling around in his head already.

Good, then. They’ll enjoy tonight, and the next night they’re out here, and the one after that, too. It has been a very long winter, but Todd has caught his first glimpse of new spring, and he gets the feeling that warmer, sunnier days aren’t the impossibility they seemed a few weeks ago. The days are healing, and they will too. And so the Dead Poets come back to life.

requested by @reinekes-fox, i hope you enjoy!

dead poets society tag list: @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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chronic-claire-universe · 2 years

Text

Tokyo Revengers: Loosing Their Virginity

Hello my dust bunnies, it’s been sometime since I actively write in here but I’m back with this: how did our favourite loose their virginity? Come in my ask box and suggest characther for jjk and haikyuu too because I want to try this format with these fandoms too! Enjoy it!

Thanks my dear @marvtales for beta reading and suggesting me!

Characters: Kakucho Hitto, Ran Haitani, Shuji Hanma

Warnings: Smut, Biting, Orgasm Denial (Accidental), Quickshot (iykwim), Masturbation, Dry Humping, Use Of Drugs, Consensual Sex Minors DNI, 18+

LOVE MAKING WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND

The first time Kakucho felt the need to discover his desires was when he knew you, a simple girl with the purest smile he ever saw and your soft hand caressing his scar, “You’re so beautiful Kaku” you say before sealing your lips to his, his hands leading him to your curves and for the first time. “y/n” he moans while biting his lower lips and deepening the kiss, “Wanna do it Kaku?” you say starting to grind on his lap and feeling his cock hardening at your movements, “Fu-fuck yes so good, keep on moving angel” he says throwing his head feeling the orgasm blossoming from your grinding, “Please Kaku fuck me” you plead desperately before taking his pants and seeing his cock for the first time, red angry with a pearl of precum, “Go on angel ride me” he says while you look at his cock, Kakucho feels on cloud nine, everything is natural even though he never felt walls so warm around him, the stiled movements make you moan his name like a mantra, the coil threaten to snap already and Kakucho knows it, taking a nipple on his mouth he starts to rub your clit and meet your thrust you say your names and he blows his load in the most beautiful face. “That was really good y/n, thanks I love you” he says before taking you with his built arms to the bathroom and lay together with you in a bath.

PUBLIC SEX WITH AN UNKNOWN OLDER GIRL

Ran was in second year of high school when the girls and boys threw themselves at him and hoped he would choose them as his next fling, or that’s what they thought, Ran Haitani can’t be a virgin right?

He was really good at making them think he was an expert but reality is that he never had the chance to do it, not completely at least. The problem for him was not finding someone, the problem was trying to convince these young girls to finish their make out sessions without him having heavy balls and the urgent need to go to his bathroom and jerk off his cock furiously, releasing ribbons of load directly in the wc. Ran was frustrated, frustrated to the point he left the girl in his room and went out suddenly hitting an older girl, you, and before he could sneak away you blocked him and asked for help with your books. “What got you so nervous?” you ask genuinely looking at his violet irises, “It seems like you got into a fight” you continue looking at the sweat pearling his forehead, Ran smirks at your interest “Mmm that would be funnier” he says while giving you the last book and mutter a goodbye “So?” you say with a smile and a hand on your hip making Ran turn around, “I made out a fuckin girl and she couldn’t even suck my dick” he says with an annoyed face failing to notice how you lick your lips ``So wanna fuck me?” you suggest with a grin making Ran choke on his own spit, “Are you kidding me?” a smile comes from youl and taking him in the nearest coffee shop you go right away to the toilet “How old are you?” you ask while putting him in the corner and unbuckle his jeans, taking his cock and starts to pump it before he can reply “N-not important- EIGHTEEN - fuck!” he stutters while you take your sundress up and put the panties on the side “Mm go on then pretty, fuck me” and without wasting anytime, Ran takes a condom and starts to fuck you sloppily and hard feeling his end already cumming “Ngh fuck - so tight” he grunts, Ran doesn’t want to cum already and taking you to his chest he starts to breath next to your ear, finally feeling his hard cock hit the sweet spot on your clenching walls “AH FUCK - mm!” you say desperate to moan for the inexperienced man and taking the girl's hips he starts chasing his high so quickly yet so powerful. Ran feels at the top of the world, his cock begging to cum but he can’t have enough of this feeling, “Wanna cum doll” he says needily gripping your waist and messily rubbing your clit, letting you moan in pleasure and clench around his length, Ran groans in pleasure feeling spurts of cum fill the condom and twitch every time he gives you something, his balls so heavy finally give the last drop and the braided boy sigh hugging you in happiness.

Ran feels on cloud nine and taking off the condom he sees how much it’s filled with cum “I’m Ran, Ran Haitani” he says while adjusting his jeans and looking at you adjust your makeup “I’ll see you around then Ran Haitani, nice one for a virgin schooler” you say before leaving him flabbergasted, no one would ever believe that was his first time and that’s how he plans to do it as soon as he can, maybe after a nap.

HIGH SEX WITH HIS BEST FRIEND

Hanma knew this isn’t correct but he didn’t care, you, his best friend, while smoking the joint in that tank, perky nipples showing from it and your chest rising up and down as you breath, “y/n…” Hanma says while looking at your chest, “What Hanma?” you say blowing the smoke on his face, “Have you ever fucked?” he says while moving his eyes towards your lips in trance, “Mmm I’m not sure, it was so small I’m not sure he did something…awful” you say embracing the memory, “Who? Who was that shit?” he says feeling a sudden jealousy, “Calm down, I was feeling alone since you left in that period, I always planned doing it with you for my first” you mumble calmly as this is something normal, “Wanna try then?” he says while caressing your sides and pinching a nipple “Ah - mh- yes Hanma!” you moan at the sudden gesture, “Call me Shuji then if you want to do it” he says staring at you and taking your chin to avert you to his golden eyes, “Shuji” you say as a moan and he loses the last ounce of control he takes all your clothes and lay you on the bed, “God so hot” he says staring at your body and you can’t help but smile spreading your legs and showing everything you have to give him.

Hanma knows isn’t correct but he just takes out his cock out impatient to fuck you and feel everything of you, you gasp seeing his size and suddenly get scared, “Is going to fit Shuji?” you say not so sure that you can accommodate his big cock, a proud smirk appears on Hanma’s face and pushing the tip past your folds you gasp, he is only midway and you feel it on your throat, you’re breathless but you can’t help but moan at the stretch. “I’m going to move doll” he warns before moving and keep your hips still to move messily and violently. The weed lets you feel every inch and vein, you’re breathless but you can feel that Shuji’s thrusts are letting you near your orgasm despite being his first time, “Shu-shuji it’s good!” Hanma grunts feeling his balls tighten already, “Sh-shit doll stop tightening like a fuckin vise - gonna cum” he says before shooting his load deep inside you, “Shuji” you say breathless from the sudden orgasm, “Don’t move doll, I’m going to let you cum again, just stay still I need a minute”

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ellies-star · 1 year

Text

something about july. pt 1

pairing. outdoors staff! ellie williams x pool staff f! reader.

synopsis. ellie has been working at this summer camp for the last 5 years, and when she spots you for the first time blowing up pool floats with Dina, she knows she's in trouble. ellie and reader find themselves flirting every chance they get, pulling pranks and having a sweet summer fling. warnings. right now it's just fluff and wholesome, use of y/n, friends to lovers trope but eventual 18+. eventual mention and usage of substances, drunk/high kissing, and makeout woot woot.

an. lol so this is my first time writing a fic in a while. wanted smthn that would make you wanna kick your feet and giggle, so i present to you part one of summer camp ellie and reader <3 p.s. apologies in advance, editing as I go lol.

It's 9:00 am on a Saturday in July, and Ellie pulls up to the campground that's already buzzing with excitement and chatter. Dust flies behind her truck as she drives along the dirt road and gravel through the camp. Window down, the summer breeze and smell of pine fills her car bringing a smile to her lips. Damn I missed this, she thinks.

She immediately recognizes her friends and fellow staff among the small crowd, they work hard to move tables and haul in groceries for this weeks meals, others are organizing gear and supplies for hikes– which she should be doing at this moment.

"You're late Williams!" Ellie looks to her left to find the source of the oh so familiar playful chide. The camp director approaches her car with a grin on her face. She slows down to pull up next to the woman, leaning her left arm out the window.

"Morning Maggie, beautiful start to the week, huh?" She looks at the older woman, salt and pepper hair in a wild bun, navy blue t-shirt with the camp's logo written across the front and back in a faded white. Her busy clipboard propped against her hip cladded in worn-out denim jeans. She embodies camp mom in every single way, and Ellie missed her like no other.

"It would be, if all of my staff got here on time!" She smacks Ellie's arm playfully with her hand. "We got new staff this year, and the boys are already tormenting them!" She turns around to point to Joel and Tommy under the roof of the mess hall on the left. The brothers laughing as they already finish tying one of the new outdoors crew members' shoes to the beam.

Ellie sticks her head out the window to shout to them. "Better hide the ladder once you're done!"

"Don't worry, already on it!" Tommy turns around almost falling off the thing, but shouts back with a grin.

"How could I forget, you're just as bad as they are." Maggie rolls her eyes. Ellie laughs at her response, getting more excited for what's in store. Joel looks passed Tommy, using his hand to shade his eyes.

"Get your ass over here Williams, these boxes ain't gonna move themselves!"

"I'm coming, hold your horses old man!" Ellie shouts back. She shakes her head and diverts her attention back to the lady with places to be.

"Hurry up now, and be nice to the boys! God knows those two won't. See you later chickadee." Maggie pats her car door to send Ellie off, before giving her a wink.

Ellie drives off to park her truck by the pool and other cars shaded beneath the line of ponderosa pine. It's still pretty early, but the sun's hot beams are brutal right now. Stepping out of the truck, she takes off her green flannel and tosses it onto her tattered passenger seat. Seconds after the slam of her truck door, she is greeted by a warm breeze and another friendly face.

"Ellie! You're here!" She turns around to see Dina peering over the wooden pool fence to say hello. Ellie instantly walks to the gate door to meet Dina for a sweaty hug.

"It's good to see ya D!" Ellie laughs squeezing her tight and taking in the smell of her freshly applied sunscreen. She pulls back, and Dina comments like everyone else she’s seen.

"You're like an hour late." Ellie scoffs.

"I know! Don't blame me, blame Florence." Ellie groans pointing to her overheated white 1999 Ford Ranger. Dina rolls her eyes in response, but gets a burst of excitement. She almost forgot what made her so giddy in the first place. She grabs Ellie's shoulders with force and locks eyes. There’s a shift in the air between them with a sense of seriousness. Ellie doesn't know what to think, but stands confused and leaning back slightly. "What is it Dina..."

"Ellie, we got new swim staff."

"I know, I met them at the last meeting?"

"No Ellie, you didn't meet this one." Ellie quirks a brow looking at Dina with a puzzled eye.

"Dina what are you talking about–"

"Ellie she's cute, and gay." Dina emphasizes, cutting her off to nod her chin to hint what's behind her– or more importantly who.

"Again, what are you talking about?" Dina turns around and pulls Ellie to her side to reveal the sight by the other end of the pool.

As a few other new staff members begin to move away from the shed, behold there you are barely out of reach of the pool structures shade, glistening in the sun. Your skin tanned and kissed by freckles, and exposed in your yellow bikini top and denim shorts. Your hair tied up in messy ponytail, loose pieces stick to your back from sunscreen and sweat.

"oh, that's what you're talking about..." Ellie's eyes widen. Dina looks at Ellie and giggles like a school girl.

It's funny, while Ellie gawks at you, you look quite silly bent over struggling to blow up pool floaties alongside Jesse. She can hear you arguing with him over how many blow up balls versus rings you need.

Dina knows what she's doing, and already feels the need to play matchmaker.

Grabbing Ellies hand and giving her a devilish grin, she begins to pull her along the edge of the pool towards the two of you. "Jesse look whose here!" Dina announces giggling.

Ellie's heart quickens, her nerves sinking in. The thing is, she hasn't talked to a pretty gay girl in, let's be honest, a while. And on top of that, she's also an over thinker. So she has indeed already exhausted every encounter or issue that could errupt after talking to you.

"What are you doing?!" Ellie whisper panics trying to pull away without looking too suspicious, Dina just snickers in response as they both now stand in front of the two pool staff attempting to blow up a giant turtle floaty.

You hardly notice the two girls that come up, you are too caught up in your mission to find the other air pump in the ridiculous wooden chest of a mess overflowing with pool toys and goggles.

Jesse looks up before his face falls into a big smile. "Aye you finally made it!" He beams while standing up. Ellie tries to focus on giving him a hug, but all she can think about is who this mysterious girl in a small yellow bikini is.

Your back was to the three of them before you turn around. You briefly scan the over the two girls before locking eyes with the one you've never seen before. You first notice her tank top, Patagonia baggies and dirty blue vans. Her shoulder length auburn hair was tied half up half down, but a few pieces escaped framing her face. Freckles sprayed across her nose and cheeks, and her green eyes never left yours.

Everything about her screamed gay, and hot.

Dina and Jesse watch as the two of you stare blankly at one another, unsure what to say– Ellie is afraid to take a breath from the looks of it, her cheeks are showing the slightest shade of pink.

"Y/N this is Ellie! We grew up going to camp together with Jesse, and now she's been working in outdoors for about 5 years now!" Dina grins after her introduction, nudging Ellie's arm with her elbow to say hello.

But all she could think was holy shit, cute girl cute girl cute girl...

"Uh, hi yeah I'm Ellie, nice to meet you." She sticks her hand out, showing off her right forearm; covered in the most gorgeous tattoo you've ever seen.

"Hi Ellie, i'm Y/N." You smile, shaking her hand– it's a little sweaty which you blame on the heat, but she blames on you. Your eyes flicker back to her arm. "I really like your tattoo! It's really pretty." You beam as you let her hand go.

You're really pretty. She makes a note to herself to never wear a long sleeve around you ever.

"Oh thanks, I got it a few years ago." She replies, unsure of what to add. God why do pretty girls make my brain go dumb?

Just as Dina was about to intervene, Tommy calls for Ellie over the fence. "Ellie, Joel needs your help planning the first 3 day hikes, Mia can't go!" He shouts before walking back towards the outdoors tent.

She turns her head back and shouts that she's coming before turning back to look at you, a small smile forms on her lips. "I gotta go before Joel kills me, but uh– it was nice meeting you."

You offer a smile and a "you too" in return as she heads back towards the pool gate. She looks back one last time and you give a little wave.

Of course this small interaction made her chest flutter, and knees weak. She fought every fibre in her body to not look back at you. As she walked towards the group of boys all she could think to herself was: I'm in trouble for sure.

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whoops-im-obsessed · 1 year

Text

Moments I loved in Newsies London

UKsies is a fansie's dream, every member of the cast is so in character even after the show ends and it leads to brilliant moments and interactions such as these:

*spoilers under the cut*

During 'Santa Fe (prologue)' there is fully a newsie undressing on the side of the stage, if you're sitting in the Bronx you'll get a lovely view

Zipline

Specs breaks up a fight between Race and Albert before 'Carrying the Banner' even starts

Crutchie has his own slingshot and shoots various members of the cast with varying degrees of accuracy

*steals apples from fruit cart, celebrates, gives one to a newsie sat alone*

Splasher jumps a skipping rope, he then proceeds to do a back flip in said skipping rope. You'll be hearing more about Splasher (Ross Dorrington) he is Something Else

Race actually smokes his cigar and blows the smoke in Morris' face

Splasher gets yeeted, cheerleader style

Oscar deliberately takes the paper from Davey's stack

Les makes sure to show his sad face to each side of the audience

Newsie fully asleep on the stairs on the side of the stage during 'The Bottom Line'

'Football? VIOLENT'

Davey tries to sell his last paper to the audience 'paper for you? Nope? Okay then :(

Les blows a bowery beauty a kiss and she gives him a feather, adorable

Couple of newsies watch Medda's show ('she's talking to me!' 'Nah, she's talking to me')

One of the newsies (?Race) nods his head along to all the knocks in 'Don't Come a-Knocking'

Bowery beauty kick line punctuated with 'woo!'s

Flirting 101 with Jack: 'the new york sun? I work for the world :D' *swings his legs and shows off his newsie bag proudly*

There is so much hugging in this show, this cast is so affectionate, its adorable

'AiNt wE tHe HoI PoLlOi'

'We got a ton of rotten fruit and perfect aim' *slingshots newspapers everywhere*

References to bway seize the day choreo in world will know

'Who wants Brooklyn?' (?race or tommy boy, couldn't see) *puts cap over face and plays dead*

Jack stays to talk to Katherine instead of going with the boys, Crutchie tries to get his attention - 'Jack come on! Oh for God's sake' and walks off. From where I was sat it sounded like ffs

The newsie wheeling Katherine's chair on stage for 'Watch What Happens' rides on it and goes 'woo!', she thanks them

side note: Matthew Duckett's Crutchie uses his crutch on the (technically) correct side, i.e. opposite side to injury, random but we love to see some medical accuracy in our shows lol

Crutchie initiates fighting the scabs and looks disappointed when he's stopped

Splasher doing no less than 10 box jumps in a row, possibly more

Splasher gets yeeted pt2

Les ascending

Crutchie using his crutch as a jousting pole

'They're slaughtering us!' *Splasher gets yeeted pt3*

Act 2

Cup clinkage

Driving the tables like cars around in kony - 'Zyoom!!!"

Ascension

Katherine's fork crown, apple orb and paper scepter

Crutchie breaking the forth wall and grinning conspiratorially at the audience in 'Letter from the Refuge'

Specs coming to get the letter from Crutchie and a refuge newsie helping him offstage

Jack putting les on his shoulders in 'Watch What Happens (reprise)'

Jack dusting himself off a seat in Pulitzer's office

The general reaction to Brooklyn

Jack hurriedly taking down his drawings when Katherine's there and hesitating before taking down a pic of (who I assume to be) Crutchie

'These kids put out a pretty good papeeerrrr' *runs away from pulitzer*

Roosevelt handshake fangirling

Spot intimidating Pulitzer

Crutchie wearing a police hat when he comes back in ('aint been the same without ya man!')

Crutchie holding his character and wincing to himself after getting his papers in the finale

'You already work for my father' - cue Crutchie breaking the 4th wall again to look directly at me and call Jack a numbnuts

Race greeting Wiesel with 'hey beautiful'

Spot to other newsies 'im not scary!' *hugs*

*standing ovation*

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kissingkiszka · 3 months

Text

The Sweet Symphony - Chapter Four: Drunk Love

Jake Kiszka X Reader series

Words: 1.8k+

Summary: After Jake was a late night out with the boys, you get an unexpected visitor.

CW: MDNI, 18+, drinking, cursing, drunken flirting, coercion(?)if you squint, i think that’s it?

Masterlist

—————————————————————

The next week had passed before you knew it. Jake still hadn't texted you back. It feels like just yesterday you kissed him in his car. And now he was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe this was his plan all along, to get you addicted and then leave you in the dust? No, that's not like him. Was it? You hardly knew the guy. Maybe he was putting up a front. Playing hard to get, or trying to be mysterious. He obviously wasn't doing a very good job at it, as it just left you annoyed.

You were sitting on your couch, wrapped up in the warmest blanket, watching tv. 2 AM was just around the corner, and you were beginning to drift off. Then, your phone began to ring. It was a FaceTime call from Jake. Why would he be calling at this hour? Was he okay? Was it urgent? You reached for your phone.

"Hello?" You pulled the blanket off of you, ready to act if he needed any help.

"y/nnnnn" a voice blissfully slurred your name. It wasn't Jake’s.

"Who are you?" Your brows furrowed at the unfamiliar voice calling for you.

"Danny." He grabbed a man in front, showing him to the camera. It was Jake. "Y'know Jake right?"

You didn't even have time to respond.

"He's crazy for you. He won't shut up about you." Danny shouted as you heard Jake giggling in the back.

"Okay. You're drunk." You didn't have the energy to put up with them right now. "Just be safe. I have to go."

Jake pulled the phone up to his face, blowing kisses to you through the screen. "Bye bye lovey. I'll see you soon."

You hung up, placing your phone back down on the table and wrapping the blanket around you. You began to drift off once more.

You were fast asleep, but you were woken up again. This time by the doorbell.

"Ughhhh."

*DING*

You sighed, getting up.

*DING*

You looked at the clock, it was 3:47 a.m.

*DING* *DING* *DING*

"I'm coming! Jesus!" You shouted, and the ringing stopped.

You swung the door open, it was Jake.

"What do you want? It's almost 4 in the morning." You stood out of the doorway, allowing him to come inside.

"y/n, I need you." He slurred, stumbling further into your house. "I'm crazy about you. You c-complete me."

You grabbed onto his shoulder, holding him steady. "Jake- you're drunk."

"Drunk in love" he smiled, "with you, of course."

"How much did you drink?"

"Doesn't matter. I'm addicted-" a wide grin appeared on his face.

"WHAT?!" You weren't gonna deal with this right now. You could barely even keep your eyes open.

"-to your love." He cackled out. "My, my sunshine." He mumbled.

You walk him over to the living room, and he collapses on your couch. His arms were sprawled out across the back in an upright position. He sat there with his legs open, a cocky look accompanying his face. He gestured for you to sit on his lap, patting his thigh a bit.

His face begged for you. "You have such a beautiful body. I need it, now."

"Nuh-uh." You shook your head. "Nope."

"Please? I want you, now."

"You're drunk, Jake." You sighed, heading into the kitchen. You poured him a glass of water and brought it over to him. "Here, drink this."

He sat up, taking the glass from your grip. You tried to act annoyed but you can't help but giggle at the situation at hand.

"You want something to eat?" You stepped back, resting your hands on your hips. You watched as he began to drink the water.

He choked a bit on his water. "I mean, I could eat something right now but..." he trails off, looking you up and down. You watch as a sensual smirk appears on his face.

"Jake!" You sternly reprimanded him, lightly smacking his knee. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Hey, drunk words are sober thoughts."

You rolled your eyes, plopping down next to him. "Why did you come here?"

"I wanted to see you." He placed his head on your shoulder, but you shrug him off and adjust your position to be facing him. "It's been such a long week. I needed an escape, just being with the boys, and music- it's too much."

"What was that call about?"

"I've been thinking about calling you all night. I've been talking about you to the boys. My phone was open to my messages and Danny just called you." He began to play with the hem of your plaid pajama pants. "I don't remember much of the call though."

He slid his hand further up your pant leg, looking into your eyes. He began to squeeze your calf and lower leg, almost like a massage.

You grabbed his hand to stop things from going any further. But he didn’t allow it, placing his other hand on top of yours. His firm grip did not match the pleading look on his face.

"Please." His begging eyes stared into your soul.

"As much as I want this, I don't want you to do something you're gonna regret."

"I could never regret you."

"I want this to happen when we can both make that decision." You nodded, standing up from the couch.

You felt a tug on your pant leg as you turned to leave.

"Please, honey. don't leave." His hand was latched onto your pant leg.

You shook his hand away. "I'll be here in the morning, we can talk this over then. Goodnight Jake."

As you walked back to your bedroom, you couldn’t help but think about how the night would have progressed if he would have shown up to your doorstep sober.

As you laid awake staring at the ceiling of your dark room, you thought over everything that just occurred. The house was silent except for the occasional sounds of the house settling. You began to hear soft mumbles coming from the living room.

"Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you"

Is he singing?

"And by now, you shoulda somehow realized what you gotta do"

Great. As much as you wanted him to shut up so you could get some sleep, you loved to hear him sing.

"I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now"

You smiled to yourself as he kept singing.

"And all the roads we have to walk are winding"

He wasn't full on singing by any means, just mumbling the lyrics with a slight tune.

"And all the lights that lead us there are blinding"

You sat there, listening to every word he sang.

"There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how"

Your smile grew brighter.

"Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me"

Your heart began to beat faster. You really liked this guy.

"And after all, you're my wonderwall"

Like, a lot.

The next morning, you were awoken by the smell of something cooking in your kitchen. At first a panic arose, you thought it might have been a fire, but then you remembered Jake had spent the night. You rubbed your eyes, hopping out of bed. You slid on your favorite pair of slippers and entered the kitchen.

There he was. He was making some eggs. He turned, seeing you looking right back at him.

"Good morning sleepyhead. How'd you sleep?" He gave you a hug, enveloping you into his strong arms.

"Good. I enjoyed your singing last night."

"What?" He chuckled, not remembering a single thing. He turned to the pan, ready to crack another egg, this one would be for you. "How do you like your eggs cooked?"

"Sunny side up." You walked up, leaning against the counter next to him. You were able to just take him all in and admire him for a single moment.

“Will do." You could tell he was smiling wide. "Go sit down, I'll bring it to you when it's ready."

"Okay." As you walked between Jake and the stove, you felt two large hands on your lower back right above your ass. The hands were gently moving you out of the way and directing you towards the table.

"Are you feeling alright this morning?" You asked, plopping down on a chair.

“I just feel a bit hungover. Eggs always help me with that." He nodded, flipping the egg.

"Do you want some coffee?"

"Already taken care of."

You glanced over at your coffee maker to see a full pot of freshly made coffee. The fragrance of the sweet coffee filled the entire room. He was a sweetheart, he really was. This wasn't even his house, but somehow he was making you feel like the special guest in it.

After he finished making the eggs, he poured you a cup of coffee. He sat down at the table across from you.

"I just wanted to say," he cleared his throat. "Thanks for letting me stay here last night. Not a lot of people would have put up with that."

He reached for your hand and caressed it on the table top. All you could do was smile as a way to say 'you're welcome here anytime'.

After a few moments of silence, his head perked up from his plate.

"Hey I wanted to ask, did we...?" He played with the eggs with his fork as he waited for an answer.

"Oh god, no!" You shook your head. "You were so drunk last night, I never would have."

"Oh thank god." He whispered under his breath. "Not that, you know, I don't want to do that with you, it's just that...I want it to be special." He grabbed your hand once more. "I really appreciate it that you didn't accept my advances, and I deeply apologize if it was uncomfortable for you."

"I would have never taken advantage of you! And I agree, I want our first time to be special." You blushed, thinking about taking that next step with him. Hell, you had just met the guy a little over a week ago.

"You know, I really see something in you." He blushed as well. "Come to my album release party. It's next weekend. I am so proud of it and would love for you to be one of the first to hear it."

"That would be an honor. Thank you for inviting me." You took a sip of your coffee.

His face lit up as you nodded your head, accepting his invitation.

After breakfast, he helped clean up the kitchen. He thanked you one more time for letting him stay there before heading out. You opened the front door for him, and gave him an embrace goodbye. He kissed you softly on the cheek and with that, he was on his way.

Tag List:

@gretnavannfleet @mar-rein12 @pattypanini @terry-66

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zablife · 1 year

Text

My Martha

John Shelby x Martha & Finn Shelby

Summary: When seven year old Finn meets a kind seamstress during the war, he’s immediately taken with her beauty and kindness. However, it’s his older brother, John, who ultimately wins her favor, causing Finn to experience his first case of a broken heart.

Author’s Note: Requested by a lovely anon who wanted a Finn fic based on the film Malena. Not a true love triangle as Finn is ages seven thru ten in the story. However, he has a boyhood crush. A new take on John and Martha’s origin story where they meet later and she lives.

Warnings: language, fighting, mention of blood, unwanted advances

1915

The air had turned crisp suddenly that autumn, the breeze blowing down the narrow alleys of Small Heath where Finn and the other boys played. The threadbare coat Polly had managed to find in a pile of John’s old clothes was not nearly warm enough to block the chill, nor were the trousers that had once belonged to Tommy.

As a fight broke out over who had won the pile of marbles, Finn was knocked to the ground, ripping the knee of his threadbare hand me downs. Eventually the boys all scattered in different directions, but Finn remained, wincing at the sight of blood oozing from the cut he’d sustained on the cobblestones. As he leaned against the cold stone of a nearby building, Finn noticed the kind young woman who had stopped to check on him.

“Are you alright? Did someone hurt you?” she asked, looking around to see if a bully was still lurking nearby.

“No, I fell,” Finn said, dusting off his trousers. He felt his cheeks growing hot as he looked up at the beautiful girl with ginger hair. She was close enough to place a hand on his shoulder and he unconsciously leaned into her touch.

“I live right over there. Let me help clean you up and sew those trousers,” the woman said with a smile.

“I dunno,” Finn mumbled.

“I’m Martha,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m a seamstress so it won’t take long and then I’ll take you home to your parents.”

“Don’t have any money…or parents,” Finn explained, kicking the ground.

“Oh…” Martha replied in shock. “Well, you don’t have to pay me. And afterwards, I’ll take you somewhere to get you out of the cold.”

“But I have a home!” Finn protested.

“Of course you have. Where is that?” Martha asked gently.

“Watery Lane,” Finn said.

“Alright, Watery Lane it is,” Martha said with a smile. Finn nodded with complete trust.

When the repairs were finished and Finn had filled his belly with Martha’s homemade pie, she walked him home, making pleasant conversation. Finally she asked, “What does your Aunt Polly do, Finn?”

“She’s a bookmaker,” he said absently, watching a bird. A moment later he stopped with a jerk. “Shit!" The word flew from his mouth involuntarily, a desperate reaction to his carelessness.

Martha’s head snapped to the boy at her side. “Is something wrong?” she asked, surprised at his sudden outburst.

Eyes darting from side to side furtively, he murmured,“You weren’t meant to hear that."

“It’s alright, I assure you I heard far worse when my father was alive,” Martha replied with a conspiratorial giggle.

“Not the swear. I meant, my aunt’s work. She told me to say she’s an umbrella maker or something so the parish don’t take me away,” he confided with fear in his voice.

As a single woman working diligently to keep a roof over her own head, Martha’s heart clenched in her chest at his admission. She had heard of women making ends meet in ways that weren’t exactly legal while their husbands were away at war, but she wasn’t about to turn anyone into the authorities. She stopped walking, placing her hands on Finn’s shoulders so he would face her. “Finn, I won’t say a word. In fact, I’d like to learn some of your aunt’s umbrella mending techniques one day.”

“You would?” he asked cheerfully.

“Yes, of course. As a seamstress, I’m always looking to expand my trade,” you reasoned with him.

“That’s wise,” Finn agreed with a nod of his head, appearing much older than his age.

Martha giggled again at his adorable nature. “Thank you, Finn,” she said with a wide grin. This was a family she had to learn more about.

Over the course of the next year she would, receiving business advice from Polly and regular visits from Finn who kept her company as she sewed late into the evenings. She insisted Finn do his school work there when she realized how it had been neglected, but she only offered gentle corrections. She wasn’t nearly as intimidating as Pol. In fact, Finn often had to stifle a giggle as Martha attempted to answer his questions with pins held firmly between her teeth.

————————————

1916

Finn hadn’t seen Martha in almost two weeks, but he gasped excitedly when he spied her at the market one summer day. Her auburn hair made her easy to spot in a crowd and today Finn was especially grateful for the bright pink hair ribbon she wore, winking at him through the crowd as she walked. Standing on tip toes to catch another glimpse, he struck out in the direction he’d last seen her, hoping to catch up to her for a chat.

Martha was the only person who actually listened to him when he talked and he’d missed her kindness. At home he was always being shoved aside with exasperated pleas for quiet. He understood that with the passing of his own mum, he couldn’t expect the same love and affection. The war had only made matters worse with Aunt Pol and the ladies at the betting shop under terrible stress with little time for his distractions. Therefore it was nice to have someone to discuss his interests with at length. Besides that Martha laughed at his jokes and never called him names like Ada did.

In a desperate bid for Martha's attention, Finn nearly tripped in his haste to wave hello. He readied a cry of her name, but it died on his lips when he saw the woman at the vegetable stall lean forward to observe Martha with hawklike scrutiny, grabbing her forearm harshly. “Put that back,” she demanded spitefully.

“Mrs. Patterson, I don’t know what I’ve done, but I assure you I’ve money to pay our bill,” Martha said meekly, eyes nervously darting to see who might be listening. Her cheeks were turning a rosy color in embarrassment over the misunderstanding and her feet shuffled beneath her skirts uncertainly.

“We don’t serve whores,” the woman spat.

“Wh-what? But I’m not…” Martha began.

Mrs. Patterson clucked her tongue in rebuke as she tossed her hand aside in disgust. “Course you’d deny it, but all the girls have told me bout you. Get out of here before I call the police.”

Martha’s hands shook as she placed the carrots she held back into the crates before her, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. Turning from the booth quickly, she wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks as she fled the market, avoiding eye contact with the women spreading such hateful rumors about her.

It wasn’t until Finn had called her name three times that she finally turned, shoulders hunched in defeat. The radiant smile he’d come to know so well could not be found amongst the pain hidden behind her eyes and Finn missed the warmth that would normally spread through his body at her usual greeting.

She inhaled sharply at being caught with watery eyes, aware that the situation was far too delicate for a child’s understanding, even one as worldly as Finn. “I can’t play with you today, Finn,” she explained quickly, looking past him toward home. She wanted nothing more than to hide from everyone after what had been said.

Sensing her hurt and wanting to protect her honor, a sudden rage overtook Finn’s small body. Without another thought, he rushed for the vegetable stand and took an armful of tomatoes, hurling them at the offending woman as she stood with her back to him.

As she felt the gush of liquid against her neck and back, Mrs. Patterson turned in fury. “Finn Shelby! I see you, boy!” she cried out, grabbing a broom and chasing him along the street, hair and apron strings covered in the watery juices and tiny seeds of the tomatoes. She pursued him for several blocks before he finally evaded her, pressing himself against the side of a building to catch his breath and smiling at the thought of justice being served.

However, it wouldn’t be the last of the trouble. A week later, Finn saw Martha leaving the shoemaker looking utterly dejected. She didn’t swing her basket or hum a tune the way she usually did. Instead, she gave a tight smile and nodded politely to Finn and his friends as she passed.

The silence bothered Finn and he wondered if his antics with the tomatoes had changed her opinion of him. Feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment and regret, he turned to go home when he heard a long, low whistle.

“Look good enough to eat, sweetheart. I’d love a taste of strawberry tart,” a man’s voice leered at Martha.

The hair on the back of Finn’s neck stood on end as he listened and he jumped when he heard Martha scream. Heart thundering wildly, he turned to find a drunkard pawing at her, basket tossed aside as he pushed her toward an alley.

“Don’t fight me, love. I know what you are. How much?” he slurred.

“Leave her alone!” Finn yelled and his friends joined in, screaming and cursing, fists and limbs flying. While the man was distracted by the band of wayward children, Martha bit down hard on his hand and he released her, staggering away until he fell backward onto the ground. “Run, Martha!” Finn shouted and she tearfully scrambled to the street as the boys continued kicking the bewildered man.

Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Finn hurried home as well, crashing into the betting shop and running head long into John.

“Woah, Finn! What are you up to?” John asked with a sly grin. He knew his brother had been causing mischief by the guilty look on his face, but wanted to hear what Finn would say.

“John, you’re home!” Finn cried. "There’s so much to tell you!” he panted, hardly able to believe his brother was standing before him. He flung his arms around his brother’s waist and squeezed, smelling the mixture of smoke from the train and whatever new brand of cigarette Polly was sending him nowadays.

“Alright, let me wash first and we’ll talk over dinner, yeah?” John said, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“But it’s important! My friend Martha’s in trouble,” Finn continued urgently.

Playing along, John stooped down to Finn’s eye level and asked, “Is that right? What’s happened, a case of stolen marbles?” he chuckled.

As Polly passed by she interjected, “Not likely, Martha’s twenty-one.”

John’s head shot up at the mention of a woman his own age. Looking at Polly quizzically, then back down at Finn, he asked, “How do you know her?”

“It’s a long story, but suffice it to say, she’s a lovely girl,” Polly explained before turning to her youngest nephew. “What kind of trouble, Finn? That doesn’t sound like Martha.”

“No, she hasn’t done anything wrong, Aunt Pol! It started when Mrs. Patterson and the women at the market started calling her a whore!” Finn choked out the last words unwillingly, hating the way it sounded. “Then she was followed by a man today and he tried to hurt her,” he confessed, lip trembling at the thought of what might have happened if he and the other boys hadn’t caused a commotion.

Polly took Finn by the shoulders and looked him in the eye sternly, “Is she alright? Where’s Martha now, Finn?”

He nodded fiercely, “She ran home, but she was really scared. Will that happen again?” Finn asked, big eyes searching back and forth between his aunt and his brother.

“Not in our territory. I’ll sort this,” John said in an authoritative voice.

By dinnertime the man in question had mysteriously disappeared and no one dared touch Martha again. The next week at the market, Mrs. Patterson had a lovely selection of her finest produce available and insisted Martha take it for free, offering up the basket with a flowery apology.

When Martha realized John Shelby had been the cause of her restored reputation, she seemed happier than ever. She offered to cook him a lavish meal to say thank you and he readily accepted. However, there was one person who wasn’t sure he liked this new turn of events.

———————————-

1917

“Finn, will you see Martha today?” Polly asked as she placed his breakfast in front of him.

“I don’t think so,” Finn replied glumly, chin resting in his palm as he stared out the kitchen window. He wanted to see Martha, but now every time he went, she talked about John.

John was still away fighting, but he and Martha still kept in touch writing letters. When Finn began noticing the stack accumulating on the table, tied up in Martha’s favorite pink hair ribbon, he knew there was another Shelby vying for her affection and possibly winning. The thought made him ill, unable to eat for days afterward, even when Martha offered her delicious rhubarb pie.

He didn’t understand why the one good thing he had in his life, the person he could call his own, was being usurped by his older brother. It hardly seemed fair when John wasn’t even in the same country. For the first time since he met Martha, Finn felt small and insignificant. Probably worst of all, it confirmed his worst fears that he was truly unlovable.

————————————

1918

“I thought you’d be pleased!” John said, scratching his head. The news of his engagement to Martha was supposed to be a happy occasion.

“Well m’ not,” Finn said through clenched teeth, shoulders tightening uncomfortably as though he might throw a punch at any moment.

“You’re mad at me?” John asked incredulously.

“Mad as hell!” Finn spat, crossing his arms over his chest as his nostrils flared.

John chuckled at the sight of him, a tiny bull ready to charge. “What do you know about hell, eh? You’re fucking ten years old!”

“I’ll be eleven next month,” Finn grumbled, kicking the floorboards with an indignant scowl weighing down the corners of his mouth disagreeably. Why did everyone forget he was growing up and he had a say in this family too?

“You think you’re going to marry a girl because you shit your pants in front of her when you were six? Sure, mate, that’s romantic,” John teased.

“That’s not what happened!” Finn shouted, lunging for his brother. Despite being ten, he was tall for his age, reaching John’s shoulders. A few punches managed to land dangerously close to John’s jaw before he captured his brother under his arm, subduing his rage after one last fit of squirming and kicking.

“Are you finished?” he asked the boy.

“Yes,” Finn huffed, chest heaving from exertion. John turned him lose onto the rug and flung himself into a chair, running a hand over his hair to smooth it back into place.

“Why are you so angry all the time?” John asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Why are you such an arsehole?” Finn retorted with a toss of his head.

“See what I mean? You think Martha will want to be around you if you act like this?” John asked, pointing a finger at Finn accusingly.

“She won’t be around anyway. You’re moving, you stupid git!” Finn protested and suddenly John realized what this was about.

Rubbing his chin thoughtfully he sighed. “Okay, right. I think I understand now. I’m taking her away from you,” John said softly.

Finn looked at the floor and nodded slowly. “She was the only one around after mum died. You lot when off to war and Aunt Pol ran the shop. I know I’m too young to marry her, but she’s still my Martha. She was mine first anyway,” he said, sniffling into his shirt sleeve.

John inhaled deeply, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought. He’d never considered what life had been like for Finn in the years he’d been away fighting. He knew Martha had cared for Finn. In fact, it was one of the things he loved most about her, but he had no idea Finn’s attachment had grown so deep.

“Look, Tommy’s made me an offer to work with him. I’ll have to discuss it with Martha, but I don’t see any reason why she wouldn’t want to stay on. Her shop is doing well and until we have a baby, she wants to work,” he explained, trying to offer a bit of hope to his brother.

“Ugh, I don’t want to hear about your babies!” Finn protested.

“Alright, no more talk of that,” John agreed, standing to clap a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “Until it’s Uncle Finn!” he added with a wide grin.

“Get off!” Finn said, shoving him away with a laugh.

After a long pause John shuffled toward the door before asking, “Are we okay?” and Finn nodded in agreement.

As John opened the door he found Martha standing at the threshold ready to knock. “Have you told him?” she whispered, leaning in to place a peck on John’s lips.

“Yeah,” he murmured against her.

Placing a hand on his shoulder lightly, she asked, “Can I speak to him?”

“I’ll wait outside,” John answered, moving out into the street to light a cigar.

As she crossed the floor, Martha cast her eyes upon a still sulking Finn. “When John asked me to marry him the first person I wanted to tell was you,” she confided.

“Me? Why?” he asked, looking at her with utter confusion. She loved John, not him. Why would she be thinking of him during the proposal?

“I wanted to thank you, of course,” Martha said, a radiant smile painting her face.

“Why is that?” Finn asked, curiosity growing as her soothing cadence lulled him into a peaceful state once more. She had the unique ability to do that whenever he found himself overwhelmed.

“You loved and protected me like family when I needed it most,” she said, reaching a hand up to push the fringe from his eyes. “Now we’ll be family forever and John and I will always be here for you. We both love you very much. You know that, don’t you?” she asked, searching his eyes for understanding.

Finn nodded as she opened her arms for a hug. Finn awkwardly accepted, pushing a shoulder toward her and allowing his cheek to brush her jawline momentarily, feeling his heart skip a beat as it did. He tried not to think of it as a goodbye as he worked to push the lump down in his throat. It wasn’t the way he’d envisioned her joining the family when they met, but now he had to admit this was always meant to be.

-------------------

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #John Shelby #Finn Shelby #John Shelby x Martha Shelby

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roonyxx · 9 months

Text

The Raven: Part 9

Summary: A new threat to the world brings the boys back in action. She is big and bad, very bad. But is everything as it seems or is there more to her story?

Pairing: Dean x reader

Trope: enemies to lovers

Word count: 1868

Chapter warnings: language, a heavy dose of angst, anger, tears, a dash of violence.

A/N: We are nearing the end! hope you enjoy, i go hide now.

The Raven Masterlist

My Masterlist

Buy me a coffee

“I think I fell in love with your eyes first. At first glance they seem like any other pair, but pay closer attention and you can see all the flecks and colors combining into something so unique. I could look at them forever.” I say as I brush her hair back behind her ear, careful to not mess it up.

“Those big beautiful y/e/c eyes, they pulled me right in. I was so distracted that I didn’t even see the punch coming my way.” I look at her and laugh, a few chuckles can be heard around us but all my focus is on her. “You have a mean right hook, baby.”

“I though you were a shifter! Don’t leave out the important, they will think you’re marrying a crazy woman.” She quickly adds.

“The only crazy here is me about you.” I wrap my arms around her waist and tug her close to kiss her. A few flashes go off and I’m sure it’s Jody taking a picture of us.

“My speech sucks, you know I have always been more of a do-er than a talker but Y/n, you are my everything, my sun, my moon, the love of my life. There is no tomorrow without you. I love you.” I finish my lame speech with another kiss and I can feel the wetness on my face from her tears. I cup her face and gently wipe the tears away.

“That didn’t suck at all baby” she cups my face.

“Forever I will love you, I will love you until we’re nothing but dust between the stars and I will never leave your side. It’s you and me, forever. I don’t want tomorrow without you. I love you too.”

She crushes her lips onto mine and our friends and family erupt into cheers and whistling. We are covered in little white petals when we walk between our friends on our way to the car who will bring us to the bar.

Y/n is smiling so bright and I can’t stop looking at her.

I am so happy.

Until I fall to my knees with an explosion of pain in my chest, and the last thing I see is Y/n crying and screaming my name.

Then nothing.

“You FOOL!” before I can process what I just remembered after what Cas said, R is on him.

Her body changed to her horror corpse, she’s chanting and curling her hands. Sam and I are slammed back by the force she’s using on Cas.

I can feel the rage rippling of her in waves, it is making the bunker shake.

Enormous clouds of black and purple smoke fill the ceiling, she calls them down to wrap around Cas.

I jump into motion, using every ounce of strength to push against that barrier of her power. My first two steps slip away, but my third holds and so does my fourth.

With small pushing steps I come near.

“RAVEN STOP!” I yell over the tumbling smoke, but she’s lost in her rage. She’s leaning over Cas, her nails gripping his jacket and holding him up while she let her smoke work.

I can see her face, her eyes, the sockets are glowing bright orange, like her insides are on fire.

I push through and get near enough to grip her arm. The moment I touch her, her head snaps in my direction. I can feel the heat of that fire deep inside her, but I do not back down.

“Y/n, stop.” I say, keeping my grip tight, preparing for her next blow, preparing for the sting of her nails, preparing for her denial.

But it never comes.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, her body transforming back to her regular one. The smoke disintegrates and the bunker stops trembling.

She opens her eyes and looks away from me to the unconscious Cas, with a wave of her hand she heals him, his eyes open and look at her, terrified.

She steps away from him, saying nothing.

“Wait!” I go after her, stopping her, “You’re not leaving, you need to explain, what- what happened.”

She turns to me, slowly and looks up at me, into my eyes.

“You remember.” Is all she says.

“I do.”

“Then I don’t need to explain anything. I need to go.” She turns away again.

I grip her arm and tug her back, “No! I’m not letting you leave. I can’t.”

“What is going on, why did you call her Y/n?” Sam asks.

I don’t turn away from her, I gently reach up and take off her sunglasses. Her eyes are down cast.

“Y/n, please look at me.” I ask softly.

Her eyes look up, they’re filled with water from tears but I can see it. I caught a few glances of them before but now that I have time to look closer I can see how unique they are.

“That’s why you took them out? Why you’re wearing the glasses? To hide them.”

“I knew you would see right away, I had no other choice. I- couldn’t… tomorrow was gone, Dean.” She looks at me and lets her tears flow freely, “Nothing was right, I had nothing. Nothing mattered because you died, again.”

Sam came closer, realization setting in his eyes. “You’re Y/n… you did this.”

“What do you mean, again?”

“This was the thirteenth time I lost you.” She breathes out, “Thirteen times I had to say goodbye, build a pyre, wrap and burn your body, console Sam and our friends, live without you. I always found a way to bring you back. Selling my soul, going back in time, asking God, necromancy…

I don’t want a world without you in it. So I broke it to save you, and every time, I gave up a part of me, I became someone- something else.

We fell in love every time and every fucking time you died within the next five years.” She takes a shaky breath, I can see she’s digging through painful memories and my chest aches for her. I don’t remember any of that…

“And I- I thought it worked.” She continues, “We were happy for over five years, you asked me to marry you and it finally felt safe to say yes. And on our wedding day… you got shot by some drunk nutjob.” She sobs and falls to her knees, her hands clinging to her chest.

I go to my knees to touch her but she starts talking before I can, and the look on her face is pure rage.

“I had enough.” Her jaw clenches with rage, “I was sick and tired of the universe taking what’s mine again and again. So I took something from it, and became the first Visata.”

“Visata?” Sam asks, “What is that.”

“It is a universe witch. I control the rules now. I am the beginning and the end.” She looks at me with such a determination.

“How is that possible.” Cas breathes out as he stands up, “Even God couldn’t do that.”

“Because God wasn’t as desperate as I. And I was ready to pay the price.” She answers.

“What price, what did you pay Y/n?” I stand up. she had already sold her soul once, faced off God, became a necromancy witch. She had done horrible things for me…

I can’t imagine what can be worse.

She stands up too and looks at me.

“Me.” She breathes out, “I could become the new game maker, if I decided to become a monster. If I agreed to be the villain. So that Dean Winchester, the ultimate hero, would never love me.”

I look at her. At this ‘monster’. “You’re not a monster.” I tell her.

“I killed people to get where I am.” She standing straight, her face void of emotions.

“They must have deserved to die, because you are not evil.”

“I am. I broke the universe because I am selfish and cannot live in a world void of you.”

I shake my head, I can feel her lie in the air. I step closer and touch her hands, “I’m not dying again.”

She pulls her hands away, “You already did, once we did more than just touching and you died. We can never be together Dean. I’m a monster. I just… I need to fix this and you can go on living your life.” Her hand reaches up to my forehead.

“What are you doing” I step back.

“Making it easier, if you don’t remember any of this, you will be safe.” Tears are rolling down her beautiful face again.

“No! I don’t want to forget you! I-I love you.”

She freezes, “Don’t say that.” Her eyes are wide, ready to fight death itself.

“I do. I love you.” I look straight into her beautiful eyes.

“There is no tomorrow without you.” I say.

A sob breaks through and she lowers her hand, “I can’t loose you again. I can’t Dean. If you die now, now that you know, I won’t be able to stop it. I can’t stop time. I tried, I tried so hard.”

“You brought me back before, the universe is under your rule now, make new rules.” I tell her.

She shakes her head, “I did, but Death can't be controlled and Time doesn’t listen. I can bend it, pause it even, but never stop. As long as you don’t remember, you stay in this time line. You can live.” She pleads with me.

“So you’ll erase my memories and disappear? I don’t get a choice? We can figure something out.”

“WE CANT, I tried everything! This is the only way.” she clenches her fists, “Please Dean…”

I look at her as I try to think of another way, any way.

“I don’t want to loose my memories of you. I felt empty and lonely before you, and I didn’t know why. I don’t want to feel like that ever again.”

“You know the consequences, you could die when we get too close and this time I can’t bring you back.”

“Excuse me? You died?! When!” Sam asks.

“Not now, Sam.” I snap back.

“What are my other options. There has to be something.”

She searches my face, as if the answer will be on it.

“I leave, and we never see each other again. And you control your thoughts, dreaming is okay, but not when awake. Do you understand?”

“But…” I start.

“It’s the only other way to keep your memories and be safe.” She cuts me off.

I slowly nod, “If that’s the only other option, then… yes.”

She looks at me for a second in silence, baffled that I said yes to never seeing her again. My heart breaks at the flash of hurt across her eyes.

She nods and wipes her hands down her shirt, trying to compose herself.

“Then this is goodbye.”

“Goodbye Y/n, I will always love you.”

I can see more tears streaming down her cheeks before she disappears.

“Sam,” I start.

“Yeah?” he hesitantly answers.

“When is a monster not a monster?” I turn to look at him, my eyes blurry with tears.

He doesn't answer me.

“When you love it.”

“You have an idea?” he asks me?

“Of course I do.”

Forever Tags 2023: @jay-and-dean @flamencodiva @magssteenkamp @snowlovespie @awkward-and-indecisive @hobby27 @yvonneeeee (yvonne, your tag doesn't work, check your settings if it is allowed)

Dean tags 2023: @akshi8278 @brilovesdeanwinchester @mrspeacem1nusone @pink-sparkly-witch @verytoadpapersoul @eevvvaa @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @supernatural79impala @thoughts-and-funnies

The Raven: @globetrotter28 @jerome-valeska-trash @deans-spinster-witch @sassy-pelican @jamerlynn @pallographsunspot (tag also not working, check your tags) @nancymcl

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#The Raven #The Raven part 9 #roonyxx #dean winchester #supernatural #dean x reader #spn fanfic #angst #dean angst

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