#and we process our hang ups through the things that we write

[redstarwriting]

protected

hobie brown x o’hara!reader

request?: yes

request: “I know you’re probably busy 🙏🏽 but can I request a hobie x reader Where reader is miguels kid but from another universe and we were known as “dangerous” to the multiverse and miguel had to watch over us and we find out while hanging out with hobie and hobie has to comfort us as we try to process the fact that Miguel wasn’t our real dad and just someone keeping the mutliverse safe?

I really hope this makes sense i just don’t know how to make is make sense uk? 😭 💀”

requested by: @millerworld​

word count: 1.7k

genre: angst with some fluff

Warnings: language, mentions of childbirth death, big feelings of betrayal, probably horrible spanish, honestly a lot of angst

A/N: apologies for the wait for this one! i love writing angst though so i was rubbing my hands together like an evil lil bitch writing this. i apologize if the spanish is wrong/not how it would actually be said/worded. been a minute since i took a spanish course, so i am a little rusty. please enjoy, and thank you so much for requesting, love! :)

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Ever since you remembered your dad, Miguel O’Hara, was there. Of course, there are certain moments of your childhood you don’t remember, as every child has, but your earliest memory is your dad picking you up and soothing you as you cried at two years old. And ever since then, he was always there. Your friends at school would always say you were so lucky that you had a dad that was so devoted to you, and you agreed. To an extent. See, he was very particular about what he allowed you to do. It wasn’t in a negative way, necessarily, he was just protective. His favorite saying and your least favorite saying in your house was ‘I just want what’s best for you, cariño.’

It resulted in you staying home from school events, friend events, and generally any type of event where your safety could have been compromised. It caused you to be a bit of a loner, always hearing about the parties, the gossip, all of it instead of actually experiencing it for yourself.

Of course, it annoyed you.

It still does.

He’s loosened up a bit eventually, though, allowing you to go to work with him. Which also meant you got to meet many spiders. Quite a few of the spider-people quickly became your closest friends, as it was simpler and easier for your dad to keep tabs on you in Spider Society. Much to his chagrin, you quickly became best friends with Hobie Brown. The two of you were around the same age, and since you were annoyed at your dad and in your rebellious era, you got along swimmingly. A little too swimmingly, actually, which Miguel purposefully chose to ignore for the most part. Until he saw Hobie sucking his little one’s face off. Regardless, Hobie was always quick to validate all your conflicted, annoyed, and even positive feelings about your father. He even helped you come out of your shell and rebel against Miguel occasionally.

Miguel didn’t like this very much, but he also knew that Hobie was still a good influence on you. No matter how many times both of you tried to convince him that he wasn’t. But sometimes, Hobie would talk you into doing things that he very much disliked. Hated, even. And this time was one of those times. While he was out, containing a particularly difficult anomaly, Hobie convinced you to search through Miguel’s personal files on his supercomputer because he bet if your birth certificate would be anywhere, it would be there. When you found a folder with your name, you expected to open it to see some family pictures, hoping for your birth certificate with the name of your mom. Your dad never really talked about your mom, just that she passed away during childbirth. You stopped asking because every time you did, he would get very quiet and a guilty look would appear on his face. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. So you went into this endeavor excited to see what you might find out. Unfortunately, that excitement didn’t last for very long. See when you opened your file expecting these mundane things, that wasn’t what you were met with.

In fact, that was nowhere near what you found.

You found detailed notes all about you.

“What the hell,” you mumble, scrolling through the various pictures of you as an infant, with two adult strangers. Hobie said nothing, looking at all the pictures and skimming the important parts of all the files you were pulling up with a frown on his face. You stop on a specific picture of a woman holding you in a hospital bed. She was smiling.

And she was very much alive.

Tears immediately start to well up in your eyes as Hobie gently pulls your hands away from the computer. “Think that’s enough a’ that, love,” he says softly. You yank your arms away from him. “No.” You scroll to the next photo, seeing a man you’ve never met before holding you in the same hospital room, with the same strange woman right next to him. The next time you scroll, it’s a detailed account from Miguel about who you are. Notes from your dad declaring you a ‘danger’ and that you ‘must be contained somehow.’ Talk of your biological parents, their names, and how you had to be separated from them before ‘irreversible damage was done to the multiverse.’

You stare at the screen, and Hobie pulls your hands away again, successfully this time. He steps between you and the screens, blocking your view and slowly walking you backward and away from the files. You’re too shocked to say anything, the only thing you can do is quietly cry. Hobie opens his mouth to say something when Miguel’s voice rings out. “What do the two of you think you’re doing?”

The two of you turn your heads toward Miguel, and his annoyed frown turns to one of concern as soon as he sees the look on your face. “¿Qué tienes, mi corazón?” Miguel asks, his voice much softer as he approaches you. Hobie moves, positioning himself between you and your ‘father,’ and scoffs. “Think you got some explainin’ to do ‘ere, mate,” Hobie says, and Miguel looks at him confused. Then he sees what’s on the screen. A look of horrified realization spreads across his face, and he looks at you. “(Y/n), cariño, I can explain.”

“Don’t call me that,” your voice, albeit shaky, finally comes back to you. Hobie turns his attention to you, squeezing the hand you’ve been holding onto for dear life ever since he pulled you away from the computer. “(Y/n)—”

“Who am I? Who are you to me?”

“…Please, let me—”

“WHO ARE THOSE PEOPLE?!” you shout, desperately yearning for your dad to say they weren’t what was said in his reports. But all he does is frown. “They’re… they are your biological parents,” he confesses, and you make a choked noise. Hobie subtly begins turning his watch to his universe, ready to make an escape from your dad at any point. “If you just let me explain—”

“I’m a threat to the multiverse?” you choke out through your tears, “What the fuck does that mean, papá?! If I can even call you that.” Miguel’s jaw clenches. “Don’t forget who raised you.”

“How could I?! How could you?! Is this why you never let me do anything?! Too worried your querido bebecito would destroy the fucking multiverse?!”

“(Y/n). I did it to protect everyone.”

“What about me?! Did you ever plan on telling me?! How is separating me from my family protecting me?!” Hobie places an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer and keeping you shielded by him as Miguel tries to step closer to you. Miguel glares at him, and Hobie glares back. Miguel holds out his hand in a surrendering way. “It was to protect you just as much, if not more, as it was to protect everyone else. If you would just listen—“

“No. No, I’m done listening to you.”

“Cariño—”

“I am not tú cariño. I am not tú corazoón. You are not mi papá,” you say, venom behind your words. You can practically see Miguel’s heart shatter into tiny little pieces.

That was the worst thing you could have ever said to him.

Before he can say anything else, Hobie opens the portal, pulling you through and closing it almost immediately. You find yourself in the familiar atmosphere of his flat. “C’mere, love,” he mumbles, pulling you into his arms. You grip his shirt, sobbing into his chest as he rocks you back and forth, softly shushing you occasionally and rubbing your back. After what feels like hours, but was really maybe a minute, he swiftly picks you up, carrying you bridal style to his bed as you continue to cry into his shirt. He sits down, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head and rubbing up and down your arm. He can’t help but feel guilty for this. If he didn’t convince you to look at the computer…

“Don’t blame yourself, Hobie… please,” you whimper, and he sighs. “Love, you needa stop bein’ so good at knowin’ what i’m thinkin’,” he mumbles, and you look up at him with a soft smile. “Can’t help it. Even your thoughts are loud,” you say, and he snorts. “Chuffed to see the cryin’ made ya feel better,” he says and you shake your head. “I still feel like shit, Hobie,” you whisper, and he frowns. He gently wipes some tears away from your cheeks. “Reckon all ‘at cryin’ has you knackered?” he mumbles, and you nod softly. He lays backwards, maneuvering the two of you to be laying down. The two of you face each other, one of his hands cradling the side of your face while the other soothingly rubs up and down your side. You grip onto his shirt, and he places a soft peck on your nose. “‘m sorry, love,” he says, and you sniffle. “I already told you it isn’t your fault.”

“‘Kay, still feel like it was,” he says, and you sigh. “That’s not important right now,” he mumbles, gently pulling you closer. “What’s important is that I make you feel better.” You look at him, your eyes are still glossy from tears. “Never met someone who looked so stunnin’ when they cry,” he says, gently stroking your cheek. You smile softly, and he does too. “There’s my favorite smile,” he whispers before softly placing his lips on yours. It’s only for a second, but it makes all the pain go away. And you’re grateful for that. Even if it is just for a second. “Get some sleep, love.” He kisses your forehead, tangling his legs with yours and pulling your head into his chest. You relax into him. He was right. The crying was exhausting. Before you know it, you’re asleep as Hobie gently traces shapes into your skin, whispering anything and everything he loves about you to you so softly that if you weren’t really listening, you wouldn’t hear any of it. No one makes you feel protected quite like Hobie does.

And even if it’s just for a moment, thanks to Hobie, you feel like everything will be okay.

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#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #o'hara!reader #dad!miguel #hobie brown #hobie #miguel o'hara #spiderverse

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @tinypaint

My name is Michelle Fus. I’m a Jewish, non-binary artist. I graduated from the School of Visual Arts for Computer Art and Animation in 2011. I’ve interned at Pixar and worked for a few years at Dreamworks Animation. Over the past ten years, I’ve self-published two books and have run three successful Kickstarters. I now work with Skybound (The Walking Dead, Invincible) in developing my webcomic, Ava’s Demon, as a physical book series for stores. I like hiking, cultivating plants, caring for my cats, and hanging out with my beautiful husband. You can read my webcomic at avasdemon.com.

Check out our interview with Michelle below!

How did you get your start in art, and more specifically, with Ava's Demon?

I’ve always been into art since I was very young. I started to gravitate towards it in first grade, where we were required to keep a daily journal. I found myself drawing in it more than actually keeping entries. From there, I got more and more interested in honing my skills as an artist. I started making my own comics for fun. I signed up for classes outside of school and put together a portfolio for the School of Visual Arts, where I majored in Computer Art and Animation. After getting my first job in the field, I realized that it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. After working my day job, I would come home and work towards building a career in comics for myself by creating and uploading my webcomic, Ava’s Demon.

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Looking things up to learn more before I make art or write. For instance, how many livable planets are in a Galaxy? What does a black hole actually look like, and can it give off light? How long would it actually take to travel through space if you had the fastest ship possible? I look up all of these things and then ignore most of them for the sake of writing a fun story and making fun art.

From idea to final piece, how long does it take for you to create something?

It depends on the feeling I want to convey. Sometimes I’ll work for a whole week on a drawing and then delete it because I just don’t feel good about it. Other times I’ll make something in a day that I absolutely love from beginning to end. Some drawings I never delete nor finish, and instead, the files just kind of sit in a folder. The time it takes varies a lot.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

I really love good stories. So movies and books with captivating stories usually motivate and inspire me; stories that stay with you permanently, with twists and turns that you can’t stop thinking about. I also love finding characters whose struggles I can deeply relate to. I try to hold onto those feelings and emulate them through my art.

What is the hardest part of your process?

Actually finishing a drawing. The anxiety of it piles on me sometimes. I’ll work for a while on a drawing and constantly ask myself, “Is this drawing really finished? What terrible things about it am I not seeing?”. My desire to avoid making something terrible can sometimes put me in a mental prison where I keep chipping away at a drawing until I no longer know what I am looking at.

What is one interaction you had from a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?

In general, I like letting young artists in middle school, and high school know that I wasn’t very good at art at their age (I really wasn’t, I didn’t have the same resources they have now, and I didn’t have any perspective on what it takes to have a career in art, it’s a different world). Kids have come to me at conventions with their work for critique and advice, and I have to tell them that they’re already miles ahead of what I could make at their age. I have to tell them that it’s okay if they can’t make what all the professionals make online, to know that they have SO much time ahead of them to work at what they love. If you love making art, do it often, study art throughout history, and over time you’ll be able to create everything your heart desires.

What is something other people find hard to draw that you find enjoyable?

I have no idea. Sometimes it feels like drawing anything is suffering, even if you like what you’re making.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@loish has been consistently inspiring me since my days in high school. Every new painting has so much grace and power and is so excellent to look at. Her skill in shape and form seems limitless, and I hope to someday achieve even a small fraction of her understanding of art. Seeing her new work on my timeline also makes my dopamine spike, so I’m always looking forward to updates from her.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @tinypaint and follow their webcomic, Ava’s Demon, over at avasdemon.com.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #webcomics #michelle fus #ava's demon

[eliluvschan]

Shadow Selfies

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 971

warnings: few curse words & cutie Channie

genre: fluff

a/n: am i writing instead of finishing an essay for my deadline on thursday? no im not👀

i was walking my to my best friend Chan’s house. he’s got i don’t know what hair colour cause the man dyes his hair every two weeks now? i kinda lost count.

we’ve known each other for the past five years, but the thing is i’ve always liked him more than a friend.

i like him. a lot.

i rang the bell and Jessica, Chan’s mother, appeared in the doorway.

“hey dear, Chan’s in his room upstairs.”

“thanks, Mama Bahng.” i always call Jessica Mama Bahng, it’s a habit i picked up from hanging out a lot at Chan’s house.

she smiled as we both walk trough the hallway. “are you hungry?” she asked me.

“a little.”

“come on. i just bought these.” she said, putting a batch of brownies in front of me.

“alright then, but just one.” i smile.

“sure.” she turned away.

i took a piece and ate it.

“oh, this is amazing.”

“i know right? it’s a new bakery called Felix’s Goodies, maybe you and Chan can pick some up for the others?” she suggested.

“sure thing!”

“eomma, is Y/n here already?” i heard Chan calling from upstairs.

“maybe later.” i smiled and got up from where i was sitting, and made my way down the hall and upstairs. i knocked on the second door on the left.

“if it’s Hannah, go away. if it’s Y/n, come in please!” he called from inside.

“ugh, rude!” Hannah called as she got out of her room to go downstairs.

i laughed at her comment as i opened the door to the usual shirt strewn floor and messy bed.

“hey, where are you?” i called.

“oh, hey there cutie.” he said emerging from the side and pulling on a black hoodie. he stopped in front of me. “what’s up?”

“nothing much. you ready?”

“ready for what?”

“science!”

“oh yeah. come on.”

so we sat down on the bed and flicked through our books and opened chapter seven of biology. disease’s & microbes.

“i don’t understand this shit.” he said after five minutes of poring over the same page. he scanned the green page and then looked at me.

“what is that hard about learning the freaking definition of a compost?” i asked after explaining the compost again.

“it bounces off of my head. how did you do it?”

“don’t ask.”

he laughed. omg his laugh.

“okay. one more time?” i asked.

“okay. and then we do something else.”

i rolled my eyes. “sure.”

he smiled and sat a little straighter.

“when rotten plants, are piled onto a heap, the bacteria of microbes act on it, and produce an enzyme that turns into any sort of liquid and then they feed on it. this stupid and disgusting process is called a compost. got it?” i asked.

“the crappy heap of plant shit is called compost?” he joked.

i laughed. “yeah. now Bio degradable’s?”

“we’re doing something else.” he told me.

“you’re going to fail the test!”

“no, i’m not.” he said.

“yeah, you are. you’re not paying attention!”

“look, i’ve done as much as i can. and just one def. of bio- whatever’s left. it won’t hurt to leave one thing. and besides, you need a break too.

i thought for a moment. true, i do need a break.

“why are you trying so hard to make me study?” he asked.

“cause friends watch out for each other, and remember Mr. Lee said he’s gonna change out seats so we can’t pass noted or talk at all.” i reminded him.

“aw, you’re doing this so we can talk? sweet!” he smiled.

“shit up.” i said, returning to the book.

“hey, look at the shadows!” he said.

i looked and saw our shadows on the wall, very clear and sharp.

click!

Chan took out his phone and took a picture. soon, we were posing madly and taking pictures in the mirror. then Chan held up his index finger. i put mine across it and made an x. i took the picture.

he held his palm in the air. i calmed mine against it, forming a weird, but beautiful shadow of two hands joined in mid-air.

both of us took the picture. then he curved his hand into a half-heart shape. i curved mine, completing the heart. we took the picture.

i looked up at him, he looked down, not smiling. his eyes full of passion. he stared at my lips, then he leaned in and the next thing i knew his lips were moving against mine and his arms were no longer suspended in the air but gripping my waist.

a soft sigh and a click!

a camera snapping a picture, and we jumped and broke apart. Chan looked around. his mother was standing in the doorway. she quickly turned around and walked away.

“i, uh, i should get going.” i blushed and turned away.

“no, don’t go.” he whispered, holding me back.

“goodbye, Chris.” i moved away. but i felt a tug at my fingers. i looked back. our fingers were still locked. Chan smiled at them, but i hastened to pull them away.

i made my way home, still thinking about the kiss.

i got a text from Chan as soon as i was inside.

Channie😩❤️‍🩹: i made mom delete the picture.

me: ok, thanks.

Channie😩❤️‍🩹: but i still have it ;)

me: what? why?

Channie😩❤️‍🩹: our first kiss.

me: can u send it to me too?

Channie😩❤️‍🩹: [1 attachment]

me: well…

Channie😩❤️‍🩹: it’s uhh, nice.

me: yeah.

Channie😩❤️‍🩹: will you be my girlfriend Y/n? i mean i’ve liked you forever and i know you kissed me back and we are friends- i’ll take you out this weekend if that suits you?

me: uhh…

Channie😩❤️‍🩹: what?

me: nothing

Channie😩❤️‍🩹: then?

me: yes! :D

Channie😩❤️‍🩹: i had fun.

me: excuse me?

Channie😩❤️‍🩹: excused, girlfriend ;) i was talking about the shadow selfies and science of course.

me: oh yeah. me too >_<

Channie😩❤️‍🩹: so tomorrow night?

me: sure. goodnight boyfriend 🤍

Channie😩❤️‍🩹: goodnight girlfriend :)

~

#skz fluff #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #stray kids fanfic #bang chan fluff #bang chan texts #bang chan fanfic #bang chan scenarios #christopher bang

[xoxoamyas]

party of our own

rating : suggestive themes towards the end [ 16+ ], fluff leaning, petnames used on reader [ toots and sweetcheeks ], jealous schlatt

jschlatt x gn!reader

☆ in which you're at a party with schlatt and things don't go as planned. at least you get a kiss out of it? <3

note : i don't usually write for schlatt, so i hope that you enjoy !

request [ ☆ ]

masterlist [ ☆ ]

[ Prompts : 53. a breathy demand: “kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond + 62. sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss ]

⋆˙⟡

Parties weren't usually your forte.

Schlatt had been invited to one, getting a plus one in the process, and ultimately, you ended up tagging along. You weren't sure how the party would go, considering you didn't usually bother with them.

As you mostly stuck to Schlatt's side, you were fairly quiet compared to the music that blasted through speakers. Grown adults acting like teenagers as some either danced along, shouted drunkenly over the music, or nursed their -likely alcoholic- drinks. Or all three at once.

You were starting to get antsy from where you stood besides Schlatt, who had been talking to one of his friends. You hadn't paid much mind, focusing mostly on trying to tune out the stimulating music so effectively, your entire surroundings. That was done mostly by either looking around the area nonstop or at Schlatt like you're in a daze of awe.

He hadn't dressed up too nice, just in a casual outfit. But his hair was put up into that one bun that would usually make your heart skip a beat. Suddenly, you’re ready to be done with everything happening around you. You moved one of your hands, your finger looping around one of the belt loops to Schlatt’s jeans with a slight tug. A silent notion to get his attention and essentially say that you’re getting fairly bored and ready to go home, or at least leave the place.

Schlatt simply tries to wave the motion off, having moved one of his arms to wrap around you and rest a hand on the small of your back. It was clear he hadn’t gotten your message, but at least he gave you some form of physical attention.

It takes a while before you do anything else, having just leaned against his side a bit for support until the guy he's conversing with finally walks away. You hadn't been listening to whatever he said his excuse was, so you paid the guy no mind.

“What's wrong, toots?” Schlatt suddenly asks, voice low in your ear as he had leaned over just slightly to whisper to you. It made some shivers run down your spine, but you played it off by moving to hold your arms as you leaned against him.

“I'm ready to go, baby.” You spoke in a tone equal to his, as you moved your head to look at him more properly.

“If you want to head out, then go. I've got some other friends I need to catch up with.” He slightly grunted moving to remove himself from you so that you could easily move. The action only served to make you frown as you moved to hold onto his shirt with one of your hands.

“I thought we were going to hang out tonight, though.” You tilted your head just slightly, watching as Schlatt sighed and nodded. He glanced around for a moment before placing his hands along your waist.

“And we can still hang out, just later at home, m'kay sweetcheeks?” He raised a brow in question, though it was obvious it wasn't fully up to debate. You knew you had a choice to stay or wait for later, though. It just went unsaid.

“I can wait for you to be done.” You ultimately decide, which makes Schlatt frown for a moment but ultimately nods and agrees.

In an instant, you have to bite your tongue to hold back verbal disagreement as his hands are removed from your body. You just let him, mostly continuing to stick to his side as he moves on to talk with another friend.

Of course, you don't stay by his side for much longer. Straying off a bit to see if they had any water or soda that wasn't doused with alcohol in it. The kitchen has an island counter with a couple shamelessly making out on it, making your face twist up in discomfort.

Your look for soda proved successful, grabbing a solo cup that had been left untouched and poured yourself some soda from the bottle. Ignoring the sounds from the couple, you just move on with yourself, solo cup of soda in hand as you found a place to sit in that had been relatively clean. Which just happened to be a vacant loveseat that was actually more comfortable than it looked.

You sat there for the better half of an hour, slowly sipping your soda and letting time pass. Someone had joined you at some point on the loveseat, some girl who was definitely under the influence of something with how comfortable she was just talking and leaning against you.

At some point, Schlatt had finished talking with some of the guys at the party. He'd set out on a search for you, only to eventually find some girl practically trying to size you up. Of course, you were oblivious as ever to her futile attempts whatsoever.

“Hey, who's your new friend?” He asks as he steps along your side of the loveseat, his hand resting along the back of it in a near tense manner. He loves the way you look at him when you tilt your head back to see his own face properly.

The girl doesn't seem put off by his words or tone of voice, simply smiling in a doped out manner. She simply squeezed your arm with a wink before getting up and walking off to find somebody else to bug.

Seeing the action alone made something in Schlatt short circuit. Momentarily, he considers going after the girl before realizing how it would look if he tried to argue or fight with her. Instead, he just huffs air through his nose and proceeds to yank you up from the loveseat, uncaring of the small sound of surprise that came from you. He hadn't been listening to what you said, anyway.

“Kiss me,” He demanded in a low tone, suddenly uncaring of just how public they were. Schlatt needed the reassurance that something like that hadn't torn your feelings from him, even if it was a minor thing.

“Right now?” You ask in a surprised tone, completely caught off guard by the sudden switch he had. It was almost hard to understand, not initially realizing where this newfound disquiet mixed with agitation came from.

“Right now.” Schlatt slightly grumbled out, one of his hands moving to wrap around your waist in order to pull you closer. You don't let him kiss you, placing your hand over his mouth and effectively separating where your lips would have connected.

Your nerves crawled over you, making you glance around at the other party people. You knew your relationship wasn't a secret, but it wasn't entirely public, either, considering Schlatt liked to keep the relationship to one another.

Anybody could recognize him in some way.

You grasp one of his hands into yours and move to walk, guiding him away from the practical centre of the party. Finding a way to a staircase that led up, taking the flight with him easily following behind you. It was easy to tell the bedrooms of the house were off limits, or just in use, so you took a moment to spot the bathroom.

You hardly have enough time to get a word out when the door clicked shut, suddenly having been pinned. Schlatt’s arms were on either side of your body, effectively keeping you in place. You hadn't even heard the click of the lock as your eyes remained on his.

“Don’t make me say it again.” Schlatt had a slight grumble to his tone, clearly wanting that kiss without too much work from his end. He just wanted this for reaffirmation that you were still his.

Your hands found their ways to his face, cupping his cheeks, and you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. Practically holding your breath as you felt the hairs of his moustache against your own upper lip a fair amount. Your hands going over the mutton chops he had, having refused to get rid of them on multiple occasions, as you held more of his jaw than anything else for now.

The moment of what seemed to be intimacy remained, though Schlatt was quick to take charge without hesitation. He had moved you with ease, making it so you sat atop the sink counter as he kissed you without hesitation. He ends up catching you off guard with a pinch to your side, making you let out a slight sound of protest to which he uses as an entry way for his tongue into your mouth.

You two essentially stayed there and made-out, both now near uncaring of the party and the music downstairs. It was nice, you had to admit, the way he kissed you almost feverishly. It wasn't often that it happened, but when it did, it always made those butterflies soar high in your chest.

When the kiss finally seems like it's done, you're both catching your breaths, Schlatt’s forehead pressed against your own. Before you could wiggle out of his grasp to get down, he clicks his tongue with a tisk. The sound made you automatically pause yourself as you looked at him attentively.

“Did I say we were done, toots?” He uses a low tone that sends shivers down your spine. You slowly shake your head no, feeling yourself freeze when one of his hands finds it spot along your neck.

“Everybody at the party's gonna know who you belong to.”

#amyas writes #x reader #fluff #jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #schlatt x y/n

[starkiller419]

Friends.

pairing : hayden christensen crica 1999 x f!reader | wc : 7k | 18+MINORS DNI

summary : you and hayden are co-stars in a new 90's teen movie.

warnings : idk just a bit smutty. actually quite smutty. if ur sensitive to swearing there's a couple swears in here.

a/n : this is my first time publishing smut so lmk what ya'll think. this is also a story based on this very detailed and specific dream I keep having, so if you want more, I will write more because I have so much more to say.

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Hayden and I had been working together for about a month now. We were filming a movie about two teens who lived beside each other, and eventually fall in love and run away together. It's a compelling story, reminiscent of Romeo and Juliet in a way. The whole thing is very Shakespearean.

We first met during the audition process. I had already booked the role so they brought me in to do a chemistry test with some other actors, Hayden being one of them. I had never heard of him before this project but later found out he had been in a couple of TV shows and movies. From the moment I first laid my eyes on him I was in awe, he was beautiful.

He was no doubt the most beautiful person I had ever seen in my life. He took my breath away and made my heart stop beating without even having to try. During our chem test, I found it hard to concentrate, all I could think of was how captivating his eyes were and how bright his smile was. By the end of our test, the director had told us that Hayden would be playing opposite me as the love interest of my character.

Yay.

I was excited to get to know this angelic man in front of me better, but I was also very nervous. This wasn't my first project, but it was my first 'big' Hollywood movie. We had a budget of over $2 million and we were filming all over California, even using some of the sets at the Warner Brothers Studios. I was nervous about my performance, and I often found myself questioning whether I was good enough or not for something this grand.

Adding to that nervousness were the thoughts that invaded my mind whenever this blue-eyed boy was near me. His presence alone was intoxicating, and for the first little while there I tried to avoid him when we weren't filming due to my impure thoughts about him. I had a rule that I would never become romantically involved with any of my co-stars, even if it was temporary.

Eventually, though, I gave up trying to avoid him.

We would hang out in between shots, getting food at the craft services table or simply walking around wherever we would be filming that day. When we would wrap for the day he would walk me to my trailer where I was currently living, and he would always walk me to the door and say goodnight before heading to wherever he was staying.

Sometimes when he would walk me to my trailer I would invite him in. Sometimes we would play a board game, make something to eat, or play cards. He taught me how to play poker and I managed to win $100 from him. No matter what we were doing together, I always felt a stupid grin on my face. We would talk and laugh with each other for hours before he would eventually go home for the night.

We would talk about everything and anything, and I felt myself growing more and more attached to him as time went on. Every morning I would wake up excited to see him, and every night I would fall asleep and dream of him. He had slowly invaded the entirety of my being, walking through the empty corridors of my mind and claiming all the rooms as his own.

I was okay with these feelings lingering within me as long as I could manage to contain them, and not act on my desires. However, with each day that passed, it became harder and harder to ignore.

Since temporarily relocating to LA, I hadn't been sleeping well. 12 hour days on set were exhausting and prompted me to sleep, but I never could. I've always struggled with insomnia and I would usually sleep for a couple of hours each night, sometimes less but never more. It was starting to catch up to me and I could feel my sleep deprivation dragging me down during the day.

I had just finished filming for the day and walked myself to my trailer. Hayden had already left for the day and I found the walk to be quite lonesome without the comfort of our small talk. I entered my trailer, took a short shower, and prepared to try and catch up on some sleep.

My trailer was small, but still larger than the average on-set trailer. It had a queen bed in the back, a small dining table and couch, a washroom with a sink, toilet, and shower, and a small kitchen. There was a TV on the wall across from the couch, and I felt like watching something would aid me in falling asleep. So I got comfortable on the couch and turned on the TV, scrolling through the guide until I landed on NBC and started watching The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

I watched a few episodes before I felt myself drifting off into sleep, and just as I was about to fall asleep fully I heard the door to my trailer open. I had locked it and only one other person had the key, so I knew it had to be Hayden.

I opened my eyes and I was correct, he was standing in the doorway wearing a white t-shirt, a black Toronto Maple Leafs hat, and black jeans. Even in something so simple he was so effortlessly gorgeous, it hurt.

"Hi." I groggily greeted him as I moved slightly to sit up on the couch, rubbing my eyes as I did so.

"Hi, were you sleeping?" He asked as he walked fully into the trailer, closing the door behind him.

"I was trying to, it wasn't going very well." I chuckled dryly and his expression turned into one of concern.

"I can leave if you'd like." He went to turn and before he could fully, I reached out and grabbed his arm. He looked down at me with an eyebrow raised and his movements stopped.

"You don't have to go. I mean, like, if you don't want to." I stuttered slightly and let go of his arm, it was more muscular than I had expected, and his skin was warm to the touch.

"Okay." He moved closer and sat beside me on the end of the couch,

"What are you watching?" He pointed to the TV and I brought my knees to my chest as I sat with my left side pushing into the cushions and smiled as I faced him,

"Fresh Prince." It was one of my favorite shows and he knew it. He returned the smile I gave him and turned his attention to the TV, as did I.

I felt myself drifting off again as my head lay on the back cushion of the couch. My gaze had drifted from the TV to Hayden as he sat in front of me, laughing occasionally at the show. I noticed how his Adam's apple bobbed up and down with each laugh he took, and how he would smile to himself at certain moments whenever he was amused.

I closed my eyes and allowed the peace of his presence to lull me into a deep slumber.

I woke up a few hours later when I felt him pick me up and walk through my trailer, only to place me on my bed and tuck me into the covers. I then felt him trace my face with his finger and tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. The TV had been turned off and it was dead silent in here. I opened my eyes and saw him walking away from the small space that held the bed.

Before I could stop myself, I reached out and grabbed his arm yet again, and was overcome with the feeling of his warm skin against my cold skin.

"I thought you were asleep?" He said as he turned to face me, kneeling so we could be at eye level with each other.

"I was, but now I'm awake," I shrugged as I stared into his ocean-blue eyes. He frowned slightly before saying,

"You should go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you up."

"Don't apologize. I'm a light sleeper." His frown disappeared only to be replaced by a slight half-smile. He went to stand up and walk away again, but I didn't want him to go. I also didn't want to ask him to stay and sleep in my bed, even though that's what I wanted. I just didn't want to have to ask him, that would be awkward if he said no or took it the wrong way, I simply liked having him around.

"Where are you going?" I asked and he looked down at me slightly confused,

"It's almost 4 in the morning, I was gonna go sleep in my trailer."

"Do you always sleep in your trailer?" I thought he had a hotel or home here or something, we had never actually spoken about it before so really it was always just an assumption.

"No, but I don't feel like driving. I'd probably fall asleep at the wheel." He laughed slightly and only then did I notice the slight purple eye bags that graced his face and the way his eyes were slightly drooping.

"You can sleep here if you'd like," I said sheepishly, hoping he wouldn't think more of this than just a friendly offer. Between friends. Friends,

That's it.

"Are you sure?" He asked as he slowly walked back towards the bed and waited for me to nod my head in confirmation before he climbed in under the covers and lay beside me.

We lay on our sides facing each other, only a couple of inches separating us, and I reached over and used my thumb to rub the bags beneath his eyes. His eyes fluttered closed in response to my touch and he placed his hand on my wrist, holding my hand against his face. I sighed softly, feeling somewhat guilty about indulging in the pleasurable feeling of his skin against mine, but enjoying it nonetheless.

We stayed like that until the two of us fell into a calm and peaceful sleep, breathing in sync. My dreams were filled with him, and it was my best sleep in years.

The next morning I had awoken wrapped in his arms, with my head tucked into the crook of his neck. My leg was wrapped around his and I could feel the soft skin of his lips just barely touching my forehead. It was blissful, to say the least. The way he and I breathed in sync, the scent of coffee and vanilla that was radiating from him, and the feeling of his large hands on my back and waist.

I rolled over slightly so I could glance at the clock beside the bed. It was 9:30 AM, and we had a 9:45 call time. Panic set in as I sat straight up, causing Hayden to jolt awake, confused at my state. I jumped out of bed and practically sprinted to the washroom to brush my hair, soon followed by my teeth. I heard the sheets rustle and footsteps follow not long after, and then I saw him stand behind me in the mirror.

His blonde hair was a bit of a mess, the bags under his eyes had disappeared, and he looked well-rested. He gave me a slight smirk as I furiously brushed my teeth, "We won't be late, there's no need to destroy your gums." He chuckled slightly and I bent down to spit the toothpaste out of my mouth before speaking to him. He was right but still, I wanted to be a bit more prepared than I was at this moment. "My gums are perfectly fine, thank you," I said teasingly as I grinned nice and wide, displaying my teeth and gums for him. He laughed and butterflies danced around in my stomach, fluttering up into my heart. He turned and walked away from me and I watched as he neared a cupboard in the kitchen and grabbed two bowls, a box of Cheerios, and the milk from the fridge.

I laughed as I exited the small washroom and walked towards the dining table where he had set down the bowls, "Hayden I can't eat that. I just brushed my teeth." He shrugged and paid no mind as he continued to prepare me a bowl.

"You have to eat something." He rolled his eyes slightly as he sat down on the bench and began eating the cereal. Despite the rolling of his eyes, he had a small smile on his face that I couldn't help but admire. I gave in and sat across from him and started to eat.

"Wow Mr. Christensen, this is splendid. What a fine breakfast you've made me this morning." I spoke in a fake posh accent, something we did with each other often. He had just taken a bite of his cereal and my posh guise caused him to laugh, and milk came running out of his nose. I couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably at the sight, but I got up through my laughter and grabbed the paper towel that sat on the counter.

He too was laughing while pinching the bridge of his nose. He had tears in his eyes and a couple fell as he blinked and reached for the paper towel, our hands brushing against each other slightly. He cleaned the milk off his face, and then off the table, coughing a few times in the process which caused me to erupt in laughter all over again.

"It's not funny y'know. That shit hurt." He said with a fake frown gracing his lips, which were trying to hold back a laugh of his own.

"Sorry, sorry," I said quietly and finished my bowl, bringing it to the sink and rinsing it before walking to the door to slip on my shoes. I turned back to face him as he put the paper towel back in its rightful spot, "You ready?" I asked.

He smiled brightly and responded, in a voice as smooth and soft as honey, "Always."

2 weeks had passed since Hayden had slept in my bed for the first time. Yes, the first time. The next night he came and knocked on my door at around 10 PM, he was shy and sheepish when he asked if he could, and I quote, 'have a sleepover'. He was being his usual sarcastic self of course, but I found it endearing either way and said yes.

A couple of days passed before he spent the night again, this time I had invited him on our nightly walk back from the soundstage. The next day I didn't even have to ask him, he just walked me home and followed me inside. When I began to get ready for bed he did the same, following me into the washroom to brush his teeth with a spare toothbrush I kept in the drawer.

"What are you doing?" I asked with a mouthful of toothbrush and its paste. He grinned and used his thumb to wipe the corner of my mouth, collecting a small amount of toothpaste on it and wiping it on the towel that hung beside the sink.

"We're having another sleepover, duh." He rolled his eyes as he responded with a mouth full of toothbrush and paste as well.

Since then it had just become an unspoken thing. Every night he would come to my trailer with me, and I never once tried to stop him or protest his actions. I enjoyed having him around, and I loved waking up in his arms every morning, inhaling his coffee-vanilla scent, and feeling the contrast of his warm skin against my cold. He usually slept shirtless, he claimed he got hot, but I think he just secretly wanted an excuse to be shirtless around me. Not that I minded, the man is ripped.

Nothing ever happened between us when he slept over, even though a part of me always wanted to, I couldn't for some reason. Anytime I thought of it too I felt guilty. But the desire to feel his lips against mine just kept growing and growing.

One day we were filming a scene that took place late at night where my character, the Juliet of the story, drags his character, Romeo, to the pool in his backyard. I was told to strip down into my bra and underwear and jump in the pool, and Hayden would follow. Despite having shared a bed with him for weeks now, I felt a little nervous at the thought of being so exposed in front of him.

But I had a job to do, so I put my big actor-girl pants on and did as the director said, and everything went swimmingly, pun intended. In that scene, I was to pull him into the pool and we would begin play-fighting in the water. We did just that and I ended up with my legs wrapped around his waist, both of us only in our underwear, just inches away from his face. I spoke all my lines just due to second nature and my memorization skills, but all I could focus on was how close his lips were to mine.

As I spoke the words I knew I was supposed to say, I found myself wanting to say more. To speak to him and only him, alone without the twenty or so people who surrounded us. He leaned his head closer to me and our noses brushed against each other. We had a kissing scene in the script, a couple actually and I knew exactly which days we would be filming them, but this wasn't one of them. So why did he move closer?

"And… CUT!" The director yelled as he stood from his chair and walked over to the edge of the pool. I removed my legs from their grip on Hayden's waist but kept my hands around his neck, and his hands remained on my waist holding me close to him. "That was great you two, we could sense the electricity. I think that's all for today so just go home, rest, and be back here for 11 AM tomorrow." The director spoke to us and we each thanked him and nodded our heads.

When he had mentioned the electricity between us I felt my cheeks grow red. He hadn't failed to hide his attraction to me, and I doubt I had hid mine from him. But still, we were actors. It was our job to be that way with each other. It was nothing deeper than that, we had to stay professional.

It didn't take long for the small crowd of people to disperse, leaving just Hayden and me behind. We were still in the pool, his hands were still around my waist gripping me tightly. As everyone had packed up I managed to avoid meeting his gaze, afraid of what I would do if I did, but now that we were alone I had no excuse. I turned to look at him and his eyes had been darkened by the starlight but shone brightly nonetheless.

I didn't know what to say to him, but I felt like I had to say something to prevent myself from acting on my suppressed urges and desires. The feeling of his hands holding me tightly was something so familiar, but this time it felt different somehow. It made me feel different.

"Wanna go get some Chinese food?" I asked him the first thing I could think of, which was stupid because I don't even like Chinese food and he knew that.

"You don't even like Chinese food." He said with a laugh, his slightly wet hair sticking to his forehead.

"I didn't know what else to say," I admitted sheepishly. He leaned his head closer to mine once again allowing our noses to brush against each other.

"Why did you feel the need to say something?" He spoke low and it caused my breath to come to a halt. Something about him right now was so-- intoxicating.

"So that I wouldn't do something I may regret." I softly said, never breaking eye contact. He moved even closer and rested his forehead against mine. His hand on my waist travelled down my hips to my thigh where he proceeded to wrap my legs around him again.

"And what would that be?" His low tone sent shivers throughout my body, and down to places it probably shouldn't have gone to. I was finding it hard to resist my urges now more than ever, the way his lips looked in the moonlight, how there was a bead of water positioned right on the corner of his lips, and how tempted I was to just lick it off.

I sighed softly as I glanced down to the water beneath us, seeing the rippled image of his toned torso sent me into overdrive. I looked back into his eyes which were the same color as the water we waded in, and leaned my head closer to his so our lips brushed against each other as I spoke,

"What are you doing to me?" I asked him and before he could respond I closed the distance between us, sending a blaze of passion and fire through my veins.

He kissed me back instantly, his hands holding my thighs squeezed exponentially hard. He moved the hand from my left thigh and brought it to the back of my neck, holding me in place while he kissed me ferociously. I brought my hands from where they were resting on his neck to his hair and entangled my fingers through his sandy blonde locks.

His hand traveled slightly to my ass and he squeezed harshly, sending a shockwave of pleasure throughout me, causing a slight moan to escape my lips. If it wasn't so damn public, I would take him right here right now.

In response, I tugged at his hair and now it was time for him to moan softly into our kiss, and if I thought I was in overdrive before, I had just exploded. We continued kissing for what seemed like hours, but in reality, was only a few minutes. Whenever I was with him time didn't seem to exist and I loved it. I loved spending minutes with him but feeling as if those minutes were hours, and I loved spending hours with him and having the hours feel like days.

Our kiss was interrupted by the sound of a golf cart approaching the set. I broke away from him with a shocked look in my eyes, and he just laughed and set me down on the pool floor before grabbing my hand and leading me out. We ran half-naked back to my trailer, dripping wet and leaving two sets of footprints behind us as we did. Halfway there Hayden had scooped me up in his arms and carried me in bridal style, leaving only one set of footprints behind for the rest of the way.

That night we showered together, caught up in the adrenaline of our escape and heated pool makeout session. But aside from more kissing, nothing had happened, and we continued with our lives. He had now basically moved into my trailer, he spent every night here, his car was parked right outside, and he even had his own toothbrush, no longer using the spare one I had.

Everything between us had quickly changed from 'best friends' to 'domestic partners' after that kiss. And I didn't regret it one bit. We had discussed our feelings towards each other very vaguely. I was never good with that kind of stuff, admitting feelings is hard, and he's just a little shy and awkward whenever feelings get brought up.

We had a mutual understanding that we liked each other, but we also understood that we weren't necessarily dating each other. We were just two people who spent 90% of their time together, slept in the same bed, and occasionally had very heated makeout sessions that would end up with me on top of his lap.

A few weeks ago he told me about this role he had auditioned for. He was very excited about it, but he couldn't tell me what it was for. He said he would tell me if he ever got it, or if he didn't. He even had to leave early a couple of times during filming to go for an audition.

One of those times was today, he had left the set a couple of hours early and I was now in my trailer. It was 9 PM and I was making myself a cup of tea before I went to bed. I had locked the door, but Hayden had a key so it didn't matter much. I placed the teabag into the hot water I had just boiled and began to slice a lemon. I added a spoonful of honey and two lemon slices, followed by an ice cube. As I went to drop the ice cube in my mug, the door of the trailer unlocked, and seconds later it dramatically slammed open.

Hayden rushed inside with a huge grin plastered on his face. I walked towards him around the counter and smiled back, "Well hello smiley." I greeted him

"Hi P, what's that?" He said as he pointed to the mug behind me. I don't know why, but he insisted on calling me 'P'. It was his favorite nickname he had given me, and I didn't know why. There wasn't even a 'P' anywhere in my name.

"Tea." I shrugged and he stepped closer to me, my back pressed against the counter in response, "Why do you call me 'P'? You are aware there's no P in my name right?" I asked with a tilt of my head.

He laughed and placed both hands on either side of me on the counter before saying, "P stands for lots of things. Pickles, Peanut Butter, party, promise, pe-"

"So my nickname was a result of your hunger?" I asked with a laugh of my own.

"No, if you would've let me finish. My personal favorite is princess. That's what I think every time I call you P." He leaned closer and kissed my cheek softly, but then backed away completely. I frowned slightly at his actions but took the opportunity to walk back to my teacup.

"That's very sweet of you. Now would you like to explain to me why you almost broke down the door coming in here?" I chuckled softly as I motioned over to the door with my head, and then took a small sip of my tea.

"I have good news." He was excited, I could see it in his eyes, and that made me excited too. He stepped closer to me and I placed the cup back on the counter, "Do you remember the role I was telling you about? The secret one?" he wiggled his eyebrows as he spoke.

"Hmm… Sounds familiar yes." I smiled as he walked even closer to me and grabbed onto my arms before speaking through his huge grin,

"I got it." He whispered and I thought I had misheard him. He must've noticed my confused expression because he repeated himself, louder this time, and I squealed in joy for him.

"Oh my god, that's amazing! Congratulations! Can you finally tell me what the role is then?" I exclaimed as his grip on my arms tightened slightly,

"Star Wars." My jaw dropped, I wouldn't be surprised if it fell all the way to the floor, and I felt the air knocked out of my lungs. I have loved Star Wars ever since I was a kid. I was Princess Leia for Halloween for the first 4 years of my life, and then I went as Darth Vader until I was 16.

"Holy fuck." That was all I could say as I reached my arms around his neck and wrapped him in a hug, "That's incredible Hayd, I'm so happy for you." I whispered into his neck softly. He pulled away from the hug slightly so he could look into my eyes and said,

"I get to be Anakin Skywalker. Darth fucking Vader." He had a look in his eyes I could only describe as a child-like glee. He was so happy in this moment and I could basically feel it radiating off of him, and it consumed me as well. I once again felt the breath being knocked from me as I hugged him again, tighter this time.

He placed his arms around my waist and lifted me into the air, spinning around a few times and I squealed as a result. He then casually shifted one of his hands down to my thigh, encouraging me to wrap around him. I looked into his eyes which were full of love and joy, and I couldn't help but place a soft kiss gently on his lips. He returned the kiss and I could feel his smile growing stronger. The kiss deepened as always and became heated and passionate in a matter of moments. He walked over to the counter and placed me on top of it, standing between my legs and never breaking the kiss.

His hands remained on my thigh and waist, squeezing softly every so often. We broke away from the heated exchange for a moment to catch our breath. He rested his forehead against mine, one of my favorite things he does before he softly uttered three words that caused my heart to stop.

"I love you."

I backed away slightly and gazed at him in disbelief, "You-- what?" That was all I could manage to say.

"I love you, and I need you to know. I've loved you since I first laid my eyes on you, and I will love you until my dying breath." He spoke like a poet, his liquid-smooth voice sent chills all through me. I knew I loved him, but I always tried to avoid romantic love and stick to a platonic sort of love. I thought it would be easier that way.

I had failed miserably, however, and I often found myself daydreaming about spending the rest of my life with him. I had never felt so strongly about someone before, and I had never gotten along with someone better than him.

"I love you too," I whispered through a large smile plastered on my face. He returned the smile and leaned back in to kiss me. This kiss was so different than all the others, it was full of love and adoration.

He wrapped both his arms around my waist and lifted me off the counter, carrying me to the bed. He laid me down gently and moved his kisses down my jaw, to the pressure point on my neck. I moaned softly at the feeling of his lips against my skin causing him to bite down slightly which sent a rush of pleasure throughout my body.

His hands traveled from my waist to under the hem of my shirt and he began to lift it. I sat up slightly and allowed him to remove the shirt completely, leaving me bare in front of him. He then began to kiss down my sternum before placing a soft kiss onto my left breast, and then the right. I giggled slightly at his sudden confidence and shift from his usually shy demeanor. He raised his head from my chest and looked at me,

"Why are you laughing?" He said with a slight smile,

"I'm just shocked at your newfound confidence." I shrugged lightly, "Does it have anything to do with you becoming Anakin Skywalker?" I asked and his grin shifted from playful to mischievous as he moved upwards and raised himself above me, our noses brushing against each other before he spoke in a low tone,

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm tired of trying to hold myself back from taking what's mine." His dominant tone sent shivers down my body and I leaned my head up to close the distance between our lips. His dominant state remained intact as he swiftly flipped me over so I was now on top of him, straddling his waist.

I could feel his hard-on through his dark sweatpants pressing against my core, and it was driving me crazy. I rocked my hips softly against his, causing him to moan slightly into our kiss and I could feel myself getting wetter as each moment passed. His hands were gripping onto my waist and he began to guide me against him, slowly at first but he quickly picked up his pace.

"Hayden.." I said softly, breaking away from the kiss for a moment to garner his attention.

"Yes, my love?" He breathed out as he gazed into my eyes with lust and adoration.

"Please." That was all I could manage to say, and I had hoped he would take the hint and not make me ask for it. But I was dead wrong.

"Please what? Use your words." His tone was deep and authoritative and his eyes had glossed over with an unfamiliar darkness.

"Please fuck me." I choked out and a sly smirk made its way across his lips before he kissed me again, softer this time, and sat up so our chests pressed against each other. I brought my hands to the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, throwing it to the floor somewhere. I traced my hands along his abs and down to his V-line. He was so perfect, in every way. His entire being had to have been carved by angels, it was the only way for a man like him to exist.

His hands traveled to the waistband of my shorts, wasting no time as he snaked his fingers underneath them and I lifted myself so he could rid me of them completely, leaving me completely nude on top of him. His long fingers danced atop my thighs, teasing my core which was now aching for him. Begging to be touched by him.

I whined softly and a slight chuckle escaped his lips, "You're that desperate for me? You're whining?" I nodded with my eyes shut, unable to look into his eyes. He chuckled again and said softly, "What did I say earlier princess, use your words." My eyes fluttered open and I softly said,

"Don't be a tease playboy." With a smirk of my own gracing my lips. He laughed slightly and instead of a vocal response, he moved his hand from my thigh to the slick that had pooled between my thighs. His soft touch sent shockwaves through me and I moaned louder than I would like to admit, but I couldn't help it. He was so intoxicating.

He rubbed up my slit slightly, collecting a pool of my sex on his two fingers before raising them to my lips, pushing ever so slightly on the bottom one prompting me to open my mouth and suck myself off his fingers.

"Fuck." He groaned out. My actions had encouraged his dick to grow harder beneath me and I smiled proudly once he removed his fingers from my mouth and brought them back down to my heat, rubbing circles on my clit. Incoherent babbles left my lips as he worked me up, before entering two of his fingers into me and slowly stretching me out.

I moaned upon his entry and felt the intense need to pleasure him as well, to give him even a fraction of the pleasure he was providing me. I moved my hand from its place on his neck down to his cock and palmed him through his sweatpants. His breathing got harsher as we continued to pleasure each other, relishing in each other's touch. I felt a familiar know forming in my stomach as he rubbed my clit and now pumped three of his fingers in and out of me at a fast pace.

"Oh fuck. I'm--" Before I could finish my sentence I felt the knot unfold and I had released myself all over his fingers, a prideful grin graced his lips. My vision was clouded with white dots and everything around me felt hazy as his fingers fucked me through my orgasm, the strongest one I had ever had. Especially from just fingering.

I felt the overstimulation of his fingers pressed against me and began to squirm in his lap, trying to get away as he continued pumping in and out of me, but it was no use. His arms held onto me tightly and he continued, and I felt yet another knot forming in my stomach.

There was no way this man was about to make me cum twice in a matter of seconds.

And yet that's exactly what happened. I screamed out as I released onto him again, looking down to see the pool of juices I had released collecting onto his lap, drenching his dark pants and allowing the outline of his bulge to poke through the dampened fabric.

"Holy fuck." I said breathlessly as he removed his fingers from me and flipped me over to my back, removing his pants and boxers in the process.

"You liked that?" He asked teasingly as he began to kiss up and down my body, starting at my pelvis and ending with a soft peck on my lips.

"Mhm." I breathed out, unable to form any words due to the power of the orgasm. He hovered above me with his forearms resting on either side of my head keeping him up. He leaned his head down and placed a kiss on my lips and I felt his rock-hard cock twitch slightly against my thigh, causing me to moan into our kiss.

He reached one of his hands down and pumped himself twice before rubbing in between my folds. I broke away slightly and looked down, and my mouth dropped open as a result. He was huge, so huge I was afraid he wouldn't fit in me. Hayden must have noticed my shocked state and he laughed slightly before pushing his forehead against mine and pressing me back against the bed.

"You'll be okay my love, I promise. You can take it." His words sent heat throughout me and I felt a knot beginning to twist in my stomach. The man had managed to work me up with just his words. I nodded slowly and pressed my lips to his and I felt his tip slowly enter into me, and then I had an idea.

"Wait," I said and he stopped instantly, pulling away from our kiss and leaving the tip of his dick resting in me.

"What's wrong?" His voice was laced with concern as he gazed into my eyes,

"I want to watch," I admitted shyly and his concerned state quickly turned into a lustful one as he crashed our lips together passionately and softly grunted before saying,

"God you're so fucking hot." Distancing himself from me slightly so I could lift my head up and watch as he slowly began inserting himself into me. I watched as his tip fully disappeared, followed by his shaft until he bottomed out inside me, and I swear I could feel him in my stomach.

My gaze never faltered from our connected being as I groaned in pain, and then pleasure as he slowly moved in and out of me. It took a moment before I could adjust to him, and he seemed to be relishing in not only my sensitive state but also the way my walls desperately clung to him. He watched me with a smirk on his face as I watched him pick up his pace, slamming into me faster and faster until he hit a certain spot in me that made my back arch and my head fall backward.

"Fuck you feel so good princess, you're doing so good." He praised me and I could only moan in response, he was fucking me brain-dead and I had no complaints. I had imagined this for so long but now that it was finally here, he had surpassed my every fantasy and expectation by a million percent. His words of approval made my core ache, and I jutted my hips up to grind against the hard bone of his pelvis, creating friction on my clit and pushing me closer to my release.

I felt his hand grip my chin as he pulled me upwards closer to him, softly kissing my cheeks as he jackhammered into me. His soft kisses combined with the intensity of every other movement he made were driving me over the edge, along with the soft grunts and groans he would occasionally release from his plump lips. He stopped kissing my cheeks and remained holding onto my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes.

I felt the knot in my stomach return and when his other hand reached down and began thumbing at my clit, I lost it. I became a loud squirming mess beneath him which only encouraged him to fuck me harder.

"You have no idea how-- how badly I've wanted to see you like this."

He spoke between his panting breaths and with those words, I felt my release coming. "Hayd I'm--" He cut me off with a kiss before I could finish, meeting our tongues in bliss and passion, and he broke away for only a moment to whisper onto my lips,

"Cum for me my love, cum all over me." And so I did. I felt my walls begin to twitch uncontrollably against his rock-hard cock, his thrusts growing sloppy and hasty. I could sense he was close as well, and I encouraged it by purposefully squeezing myself tighter around him and soon enough I felt him twitch inside of me, fully releasing himself into me. I milked him dry and even went as far as to buck myself against him a few times, overstimulating him just a fraction of how he had me.

He collapsed on top of me as he finished, both of our chests heaving with our heavy breathing. I snaked my hand through his blonde hair, twirling strands around my finger absentmindedly while his hand made its way up and down my back. We lay in silence for a few moments, I listened to his breathing slow and he listened to my heartbeat.

"I mean it you know," He whispered softly into my chest and I could sense his usual shy demeanor sneaking it's way back in, "I really do love you." He shifted slightly to look into my eyes, and I felt tears poking at the sides of mine.

"I know. I mean it too. You're mine and I'm yours." I said smiling at him.

And I meant it. Every. Damn. Word.

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #loverboy #scott barringer #crying rn #pray for me

[precious-little-scoundrel]

| Ida’s Law

Introductory Part

Summary: The American War Effort had conceded to the enlisting and commissioning of women into the Air Force at semi-integrated status. Deemed a more reliable if not safer combat post, the going rank of officer in the Air Force was intended to secure fair treatment and combatant status for these women, as it had for their male counterparts. Like most things in war -or life, if one is a woman- such recognition must be fought for.

Warnings: disturbing content- if you made it through last one this one should be a breeze, however it picks up where we left off so expect mentions of war, wounds, illusions to past rapes, Nazis being racist fucks, possibly some internalized misogyny about it all and some hopefully very 🥹🤧 reunions

A Note Going Forward: With this part now published, I am happy to open this series up for prompts. Ideally I’d like this series to end up being exclusively prompt-inspired and will be putting out prompt lists accordingly. I think that will be a fun way to keep the interaction going, stretch my own skills and explore all the different scenarios that may intrigue y’all. You’re welcome to come up with your own prompts, too. All are welcome, none guaranteed but let’s be real -I’m obsessed with this AU so I’ll likely do it. For now I’ll be keeping all writing to POW Camp and Liberation and Post-Liberation timelines.

“Well, what do we know?” Ida Brady asked the first officer out on the other side as they began to filter through the laborious processing of the camp. She counted them down, one familiar face after another appearing through the doorway again with no worse indignity than the new identification tags hanging from their necks.

“I hate a guy named Johann, and I like a guy named Fritz, and the lieutenant guy wasn’t bad.” Maureen declared, straightening her precious cap atop muddy auburn tresses. “Who went and named their son Fritz after the last war? I mean really? Who does that to a kid? It’s like he’s making up for it now, though, awfully nice.”

“Mm, I thought so, too.” Ida hummed, “Might keep an eye on that one, work on him a bit. You think, Kendeigh?”

“Work on him yourself, Ida.” Maureen scoffed.

“Not much to work with.” Ida retorted, the first general reference to her disfigurement she’d made. “What do you know? What’s up?” she left off to inquire after Tallulah Smith who came out the other side of processing looking more than exasperated.

“Know? They don’t know squat.” she said, “Never heard of a Cherokee.”

“I’ll be.” Maureen was grinning sharply. “Wasn't enough being a woman for ya Smith, ya had to go and be a brown one.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” She griped, “They kept insisting I was a fighter pilot. That’s what all the ‘dark ones’ are, according to them. Told them I’d rewire their insides and maybe then they’d take my engineering degree seriously.”

“I’d like to see that.” Maureen murmured, drowsiness beginning to take over at the comparative calm of their new surroundings.

“Looks like we got everyone, yeah?” Ida peered over the heads of the crowing room and counted out her charges in a silent tally.

“Looks like.” Smith agreed. “Got billet assignments?”

“I do. Colonel Clark, most senior prisoner here, said the combines are strict but the rooms aren’t. Let’s try to behave until we feel our way, then we can swap, if they allow.”

“It’s going to smell like feet no matter where and who we share it with.” Smith pointed out and Ida heaved a great sigh as if that were the hardest prospect she’d yet encountered.

“Mm.”

“Buck is out there!” Maureen suddenly cried out, grabbing at Ida’s arm, pointing out the window at the muddy yard.

“How nice. Gotta get this sorted first, eyes in, Kendeigh.”

Maureen reluctantly tore her eyes away from her dearly missed pilot. “Yes sir.”

“All right,” Ida’s voice carried as well as it ever had, commanding immediate quiet and attention, “those in the 350th, 419th, -the hundredth!- on me. Gather ‘round. That’s it, come on. Alright, well, we made it, well done. Truly, well done to all of you. Now I know you well enough to not accuse any of you of being pure idiots, just because we made it to where we wanted to go doesn’t mean any of what’s ahead is going to be easy. Be wary, don’t let your guard down, you don’t know plenty of these men and they don’t know you, I’m sure there are measures in place for spying already. Be sensible. I am certain we can rely on the kindness of those in the hundredth, but even then keep in mind, if you are cold, they are too, if you're hungry, you best believe they are hungrier, the last thing we need is a crisis of chivalry in here. Rely on them, except their help, but don’t ever take from them. Understood? And one more thing, since the human spirit is irrepressible I feel it’s warranted to make one more housekeeping note. None, and I do mean none, no inner relations at all are allowed. I don’t care how cold you are, how sweet he’s been, or how much you’ve missed him. The Red Cross aren’t sending rubbers, and don’t ever take the promise of a pull out. Do you want a one-way ticket to a death camp or a bullet to the head? Get pregnant. Simple as that. You think the Jerries think poorly of you now for being female? Try being a matron. The point is to blend in as much as possible, keep that in mind. Whatever you do, keep that in mind. Understood?”

“Yes sir!”

“Colonel?” One voice demurred, raised hand and respectful title only forerunners for an obvious objection incoming.

“Yes? Sanchez, isn’t it? You’re not one of mine, I think.”

“No, sir, 55th -fighters.”

“Yes, well, welcome. What’s your question?”

“No offense sir but- what about the guards?” Sanchez asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Brady replied with typical candor, “I believe so far we’ve seen a mix here. I’m sure our friends can give us tips on who to watch out for.”

“No sir, sorry I meant-“ Sanchez kept her teeth clenched until her thoughts seemed to form better, “-you said no relations. What about the guards? No disrespect meant colonel and I don’t know about yours, but mine -they weren’t pulling out.”

“Mm.” Maureen thought that if Ida smashed her lips together any tighter they’d turn whiter than her skin, the bent aviators she had managed to preserve this entire time did a remarkable job of masking whatever feeling was stiffening her spine to the current degree, but all the same, her spine was stiff, “no offense taken, an excellent point. I’ll inquire about any possible…remedies. Anyone else?”

A multitude of hands shot up and Ida Brady scanned them with bewilderment until she realized her lapse in specificity. “Anyone else with questions, I meant! Saints alive. No? Good, let’s claim our bunks and see about a wash.”

After the dark interior of the building, being processed for hours, the hazy late afternoon light of outside glared painfully against Ida’s bloodshot eyes as she stepped out, leading the way down the three wooden steps to the muddy yard. Monochrome, this place, brown wooden buildings and brown earth and a muddy sky and brown flight jackets one after another.

And there in the midst of it, waiting for them with ever constant patience and thinned stateliness was Gale Cleven and his lost blue eyes and an alarmingly symmetrical set of facial scars.

“Major.” Ida felt her face soften into an odd expression she realized was likely that of relief. Cleven had that way about him, it was better suited to her preferences than Egan’s blustering warm hearted concern, Colonel Harding’s gruff joviality or her John’s perpetually intense concern. Her little brother was, oddly, nowhere to be seen now and that was a comfort in this wide open, highly observed space.

“Colonel.” Gale Cleven’s eyes weren’t a lost blue anymore but a pair of stormy seas and Ida steeled herself for pity. She found smoldering rage in his face instead. Another relief.

“How was it?” he was nodding to the command hut.

“Fine.” she assured.

He was searching for something in her face and Ida was sure it was easily found skin deep along her puffy, purpled left cheek, but if she had anything to do with her expression alone, he’d be kept guessing for ages. “Good.” he decided at last but his smile was tight, “Made John wait in the combine, he’s in there pacing like a madman. They make a note of who’s attached to whom, Colonel,” he explained, “a more discreet reunion seemed in order.”

“We’d appreciate all the direction you—“ Ida had begun but was cut short by Lt. Kendeigh who broke ranks from the processed group and came out of the hut behind Ida like a bat out of hell, running up to Cleven and tackling him in a hug, rather like a dog with their long lost master.

The Major’s lanky frame staggered under her surprise attack, perhaps more from shock and ill preparedness than poor rations and a weakened constitution. Or at least Ida, hoped that was the case.

Well, there went all intentions for discretion about partiality on their part, five seconds had gone by and Maureen still hadn’t let go, her valued cap about ready to knock off her head and his too. Seeing the gig was up, Cleven even belatedly brought an arm up to hug her shoulders, his pleased face bashfully pacifying her intensity. “If it isn’t my favorite bombardier.” Cleven mumbled, his lips failing not to tug upwards in the tiniest of smiles, and he gave her a pat on the back.

“Buck!” Smith was coming in hot behind Kendeigh and knocked Ida’s shoulder in her haste to get around her and join in. “Thank Jesus you’re here.” she grunted as she squeezed him and Kendeigh both, “I mean -we’re sorry you’re here but since we’re here-“

“Glad you’re here, too, Smith.” he assured her gently, another pat on another back and Ida watched Cleven’s composure began to flake as he took stock of their roughened appearances. “It’s gonna be ok now.” he offered, and coming from someone else that statement would’ve sounded a great deal less impressive than it did coming from him. It also sounded hollow without Bucky’s typical parroting of the upbeat sentiment. “Let’s get you girls sorted.” he nodded at Ida who fell in alongside him, if only to distance and displace Kendeigh and her over familiarity just a tad.

“What’s your Kommandant like?” Ida asked by way of conversation as Gale directed them in a trudge along the brown paths towards his specified hut.

“Think I know him as well as you.” Gale admitted, “Tried to stay low, been no reason for socializing. Wouldn’t advise a trip to the camp doctor though.” He added the last part after a beat.

“Why?”

“Your Johnny says he’s got an experimental mind.” Gale smiled wryly but there was a grieved look behind it that made Ida’s pulse pound in alarm, “If you go in with a cold, you might come out with a radioactive arm instead.”

“Noted.” Ida muttured with a shiver, wishing to god her jacket hadn’t been taken off her a couple stops ago, the sun was waning in the dull sky and the breeze was frigid without it. “Speaking of doctors,” she decided to go for it, “is Johnny -my John- is he alright? At the gate it was such a racket, was he…standing?”

Gale paused in his step up into the combine, brows knitted in surprise and she noticed along with him that their little march had drawn quite a little audience from the fellow inmates. Females in a Stalag -what a novelty. “Yeah, John’s fine. He’s fit.” Gale still had that quizzical look on his face.

Ida swallowed hard and gave him another curt nod, one she wanted to come across as grateful but wasn’t sure it did, her battered cheek was responding less and less to her mind’s commands. “Right. This us?”

“Yeah. Figured we’d try to keep as many close as possible.” He explained, “Welcome to paradise.”

“What did y’all name this shack?” Maureen asked him as she stepped over the threshold, it was dark inside and smelled of lumber and smoke.

“We haven’t.” Gale admitted, forlorn at the realization that things like that didn’t occur to people like him. If Bucky had been here, he’d have had it named in an hour, and something awful, too. Something that would make them all laugh.

“Damn oversight, Gingerale.” Maureen teased merrily but Cleven noticed the dimming light in her eyes as she took in the cramped, uninspired utility of the place. One wooden doorway after another.

“Talked it over with Colonel Clark during your processing,” Gale said, “decided it were best if we mingle you all among the men we know. Boys from your squadrons, friendly faces. A few of you in each room.”

“I call dibs on yours.” Maureen unabashedly grinned up at Cleven but Ida saw how a heartbroken look of protectiveness skittered across his features.

“Alright.” he muttered without a fight for once.

“Mm, Smith, Sanchez, Tong, you in here.” Ida decided and having snapped her fingers she was moving on to the next stuffy room. Asking Cleven at each about their current occupants, and with the precision of memory required of a woman who had to memorize her opponents on the promotional ladder, chose their new bunk mates accordingly.

“And where’s Johnny bunked?” she asked him in a low tone as she watched the next set settle in from the doorway.

“In with me, further down the hall, Demarco, Hambone, a few others.”

Ida seemed to hesitate as she eyed up an extra bunk in the current room that the last of her girls were settling into.

“Don’t be a stick, colonel,” Maureen spoke up gently, a surprising liberty even for her, “you need friends right now. Bunk with us. Everyone’s going to be fine. Can’t be all places at all times, ya know?”

Ida didn’t reply but after a moment she admitted, “I should go see John.”

Gale and Maureen exchanged a look and then moved in unison to catch up to her as Ida Brady walked, brisk as if she were back home at Thorpe and about to pick a fight with Jack Kidd, down the long hall to one of the last rooms. “In here?” she asked Gale, pointing at the closed door -they liked to keep it so for warmth and privacy, and to acclimate the guards to it being closed when the radio was out.

“Yeah that’s us.” Cleven replied, reaching out and snagging Maureen back a step as Ida turned the handle. “Let’s give ‘em a minute.” he suggested, referring to the Bradys.

He held her jacket sleeve for a brief moment before turning it to grab her hand, he’d missed those hands. To his horror their usual calloused elegance was a swollen paw of bruises. “The hell, Maureen?” he whispered in shock, turning it over to examine it, grip strong around her wrist before she could pull away. “Who did this?”

Maureen did her best to shrug, “Some bitch stood on them.” she said simply, and surrendered the other hand for a similar heartbroken inspection.

Kendeigh was indeed not as visibly marred as Ida Brady or a few of the others, but still, Gale kept turning her crushed hands over and over, recalling with vivid agony the way he’d admired them at all manner of work before. To hurt them that way, to restrain her so meanly- “Maureen,” she’d never heard his voice dip so low, and his eyes were simmering where they cataloged her hurts, “what’d they do to you?”

“What’d they do to your face?” she shot back, perhaps more perturbed by the immaculately symmetrical scars on his once porcelain face than her own condition. Women expected the treatment they’d gotten, in some twisted way, but this on the other hand, it disturbed her.

Gale looked taken aback by her question and quickly dropped her hand to touch his right cheek as if to remind himself the scar was obvious to everyone. “Flak.” he replied a beat too late.

“Awfully precise.” she snarked.

“I asked you first.”

“I told you, a bitch stood on them.”

“I’m your superior officer.”

“Who it looks like someone had some fun with,” Maureen snapped back, “who did this?”

“What happened to you?” He hit right back but his voice quavered.

“I’m fine now. I wanna go see the boys. Come on.”

“Just- give them another minute.” Gale insisted, pulling her back away from the doorway again, “It’s a lot.” He reminded, “For a brother to see his sister like -that.”

Maureen couldn’t argue with that, besides Gale looked so sad and more fragile than she’d ever seen him, and the gentle hold he had on her jacket was as needy and scared as a child’s. “I’m glad we’re in this together.” she whispered.

“Me too.” he admitted, guilty and sad over how true that was before letting her press her lips to his.

Ida Brady didn’t know what she expected when she opened the door, not much she supposed, just a living brother with any luck. It was a decently tidy room, plates stacked on a rough hewn board at the far end, eight bunks lining the walls, stacked three tall. A table was in the middle and there sat dear old Crank and Hambone too, Murph with Benny. A card game was ongoing.

They looked so fine, quite normal, all in all.

All motion in the small room stopped upon her entrance. Cards were dropped and cigarettes forgotten in open mouthed shock.

“Holy shit -colonel?” Demarco didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body, and his disbelieving horror over her appearance came through loud and clear in his greeting. She hadn’t seen him at the gate.

The same for Hambone’s face, one that had never bothered to be discreet in pleasant circumstances, much less in shocking ones like seeing a notorious superior officer come in looking about as battered as a body could get -although his torn cheek was one to talk. Crank recovered first, in his mild, stammering sort of way, glancing at the lean figure who still stood looking out the lone window.

“Well, if it isn’t Ain’t Pretty Brady.” Crank clapped uneasily, summoning her nickname from basic just to cut the tension, it served to startle John.

He turned from the window abruptly, blank faced and unblinking as he realized the sister he had been watching for had already arrived. If their ole nan from the motherland had suddenly materialized before him he could have hardly looked more haunted or aghast, wide fringed fox eyes and that straight fold of a mouth -always so very held together, her little brother. Even after his third belly landing.

But those startled unblinking eyes...

Ida wanted to tell him to blink, that it was all alright now, that they were both alive and that it was good enough, it had to be. But she seemed to have fully lost all power over her throbbing cheek at last, she could feel her lips move in a motion she realized with supreme panic was likely a wobble of emotion. She ripped her aviators off, as if seeing her eyes might help his to come alive.

“John John?” she croaked in greeting, oblivious of the childish endearment tumbling off her lips in a room full of soldiers. If it were something their family was in the habit of doing, Ida Brady might have rushed him like Maureen did her pilot, or held out her own hand to be held, asked for a gesture from him -after what she’d gone through, surely it couldn’t have been weakness to want a clap on the shoulder, a flick to the bicep, a little “well done” for staying alive.

But she just stood there and watched him clock her shame. She could feel her swollen lip splitting in real time as the swelling and incessant trembling tore the taut skin apart, they’d passed around a single canteen in processing and it wasn’t enough, the walls of her throat felt collapsed together. Maybe she should have asked for a mirror first, maybe Cleven or Kendeigh or Smith should have told her she’d bring a whole room to a frozen standstill by her looks alone. They’d seen her at the gate -were these meager lightbulbs really so much more illuminating?

“Eye-eye.” Johnny let it out in a breathy rush as if he’d suddenly come to, and then he was in front of her, hands cradling the sides of her neck, thumbs hooked gently under her bruised jaw. A calloused pad swiped away the ticklish trickle of blood sliding the crease of her mouth.

Eye eye -his onetime baby babble for Ida, and she’d never let him forget it.

She could have wept at the useless sentimentality of it, of the gentle familiarity of familial hands, at the seething loyalty storming across his face.

“The fuck did they do?” he articulated at last, voice gravelly as shit but also reminiscent of the squeaky olden days when his castrato role suddenly no longer served one Sunday in choir.

“You’ve got legs.” she answered instead, sounding maniacal in her happiness.

He looked at her like she’d gone fully crazy as well as beat, “Yeah? Yeah I do.”

“They said, they said you didn’t.” she chuckled, a bizarre merriment trying to take hold in her relief, “During interrogation, that bespectacled cunt told me you had your legs crushed when you crashed.”

“No? No- no I jumped.” He insisted, then let go of her face to step back and gesture to two fit legs, as long and lanky as she remembered, as long and lanky as her own. “I jumped, I’m fine. They told you that?”

“Yeah.” Ida said, “Told me the longer I didn’t comply the longer you were without medical attention. I -I’ve been so…uneasy…about you.”

“I’m fine.” He repeated, hands back on her shoulders and she was grateful for it despite the bruises he was gripping, grateful for the way he kept touching her like he was going to hold her together with his own two hands, same blood, same flesh, same memories, maybe whatever she’d lost he could supply back like a blood donation. “Those sons of bitches.” he cursed them.

“Plasma for planes.” she agreed.

He kept looking at her, at her cheek and at her ragged hair and at the missing buttons, “You didn’t tell them anything did you?” he suddenly asked, wide eyed. “You know i’d rather die than have you tell.”

Ida scoffed, and gave him a grin, the best one she could manage with her cheek and split lip, “What do you take me for, Johnny?”

“A cold hearted bitch, I hope.” he returned the small smile but his voice cracked, still that hint of something long gone and juvenile.

“That’s what their Lieutenant called me.” Ida confirmed, a little proud, and sensing a renewal of his inquiries, Ida chose to take the offensive and call out for a conspicuously absent Kendeigh, “Candy! Didn’t you want to tell Johnny about your charming admirer? The Lieutenant?”

Kendeigh came round the doorway hastily, her lips puffy and cheeks oddly red. Cleven followed after and matched her, and his blush did nothing but highlight those scars of his. “Brady.” Maureen greeted, boldly hugging Ida’s very stiff brother without care —due to his red cheeks and rigid shoulders Ida concluded Cleven had given his own inner-relations talk to the men—, “Yes, I wanted to -oh hello Crank, Benny you son of gun- wanted to tell y'all about my ticket outta here -hell Hambone, how’d you manage to get uglier? -see my integrator, he found me fairly fetching. I think one of these days he’s gonna roll up in his shiny car and take me away from here and you’re all gonna wish you’d taken time to learn a little know-how about Alligators and their hibernation tactics in the winter. He was enthralled.”

There was an awkward silence hanging in the room, Crank grimaced a smile out of sheer generosity of heart and Benny Demarco still sat with his cigarette neglected on his open lip. Cleven, used to her preening brazness kept a tight lip, though a thousand questions seemed to swirl in his eyes.

“He the one who stood on your hands?” John Brady asked her without hesitancy.

Maureen whirled round then, comedy hour over and an angry flush creeping up her neck at his directness. “No.” she snapped. “Can’t some of them be alright?”

“A German’s a German.” he countered.

“There’s Fitzs and then there’s Johanns.” she disagreed nebulously and only Ida got her reference.

“And a shower is a shower,” Ida butted in before this became an experiment in an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force “which we need, badly. We’re…filthy.”

“We’ve got working sinks, trough sinks.” Cleven clarified with an apologetic look as if it were his fault the showers only ran once a week and poorly at that, and the water they had was frigid already in autumn.

“Water is water.” Ida reasoned in return, wondering when Johnny was going to finally let go of her arm.

“We’ll clear it out for ya.” Cleven said.

“And we’ll guard the entrance.” John added emphatically.

“Thanks.” Ida muttured, “Some of us could use to mend our uniforms.” she added, refusing to blanch at the subtle inventory of her jagged tears and crusted blood being made by every man in the room.

Maureen at least had her jacket intact. Her cap, too.

“Here, you can have my trousers while I stitch yours.” her John decided and was unbuckling his belt before she even registered the hand gone from her shoulder.

“What?” Ida balked, “You’re going to go ‘round in your skivvies?”

“Not as uncommon around here as you’d think, Ida.” Gale said, a small smile on his face. “I’m afraid order and decorum has gone to shit without you.”

“Well I’m here now.” she replied sternly but didn’t stop Johnny as he stripped.

“And so am I.” Kendeigh grinned and all Ida could do was to bless the saints for having let only one terror into the camp, were Bucky Egan to be here too, things would become intolerably lax. As soon as she thought it she repented it, sending up a prayer for the poor, absent bastard.

“Say Benny, you’re shorter, can I have your pants?” Maureen pleaded.

“Why mine?” Demarco protested, only offended at the height implication.

“Because Cleven’s too tall and I’ve already been in his pants.”

“Maureen!”

“Ida, order somebody to give me their pants.”

“You can have mine.” Crank offered kindly, and then stood up and bashfully began to unlayer. It left him in skivvies, a snuggly sweater and his flight jacket.

“It’s a good look, Crank,” Maureen grinned at the finished product as he handed the trousers over. “I’m seeing you in a different light.”

“Maureen!”

“Just sayin-“

“Take the pants with you to the washroom!” Brady interjected desperately as Maureen looked ready to strip right here and now. “Jesus, Kendeigh.”

“Touchy, touchy.” Maureen ribbed him, out for blood in her tired state and if she couldn’t have that of the Germans she would of her friends’.

“Alright let’s - let’s settle down.” Gale implored, a tired expression firmly etched onto his face and Ida herself considered giving up on the wash altogether and tumbling into the available bunk to court the oblivion of sleep. Were it only blood and dirt she just might, her usual tidiness be damned.

As it was -it was, there was…the filth was so much worse.

And if Ida thought on it too long she’d go mad and want to pour boiling lye on herself to wash herself clean and to kill the shame of it. She’d have to scrub the pants before she gave them to Johnny to be mended, it was bad enough for a brother to see the blood and busted seams.

“Yes, settle down for God’s sake.” she echoed Cleven, and something about her hoarse voice compelled Maureen to temper herself more than any direct order could. “A wash, come on, let’s get the girls. Oh and one more thing, Cleven-“ Ida turned to Gale and found him alert, eager to help. She was afraid she was only setting him up for failure but she had to make an effort to find those “remedies” she’d promised Sanchez. “There any lemons around?”

The incredulous look on his face suggested he thought she knew better, but he was ever polite in his reply, “No, colonel. No lemons.”

“Mm. Nutmeg?” she tried to recall each wicked trick she’d heard condemned when a girl got herself in the family way without the needed family in place.

“No, no nutmeg.”

“Mm.”

“Nothing but potatoes and cigarettes, ma’am. Do you- why?” he asked.

“Nothing.” she assured, “Just, a hot toddy sounds good right about now. You know?”

“Uh,” he floundered, half in suspicion and half in genuine confusion, “never had one.”

“Well then,” she grinned as she passed him, “that’s something to add to our to-do list for when this is all over. Jameson, though, none of that Kentucky stuff.”

“Yes ma’am.” his tone was vacant, smiling concern brittle, “You uh, you alright, Colonel?”

Ida gave him a withering look and then Gale too, had cause to be repentant.

“Come on Kendeigh, let's get the rest.” Ida gestured as she followed Gale back into the hall, aware of Johnny’s eyes still on her, still taking stock, “They better not be in bunks without a wash. Come on, showers, everyone! Out, come on out. You can sleep afterwards. Out! Would one of you be so kind as to wake us up in time for roll call?” she inquired of the male officers straggling behind her in the hall.

“Course! Yeah, for sure.” about five offers went up.

“You wake Me up.” she clarified coming to a full stop, wary of the enthusiasm, “I’ll wake up the rest.”

“I’ll get you up.” Her John said.

He’d probably sit and watch her sleep, too, needle and torn pants in hand, like a creepy little owl but that was one of those things she figured make or break a family, you either find it endearing you have a brother who rarely blinks or you go mad. Today, after all of it, she didn’t mind having a guardian Angel. Or a watchdog. Speaking of-

“Hey,” she asked him, “you two flew out together, where’s Bucky?”

But no one had an answer for that, not even Little John.

💋Hope you enjoyed AND REMEMBER -prompts are now open.

Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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#masters of the air #mota #mota fanfic #mota oc #Intergrated au #those who can #john egan #john brady #gale cleven #benny demarco #gale cleven x oc #john egan x oc #john brady x oc #Maureen Kendeigh #Ida Brady #Tallulah Smith

[emotionalmessss]

King of Curses

A/N: a little Sukuna one-shot for my first ever post. :) I'm open to writing more if anyone has some requests. :)

Synopsis: reader and megumi find themselves trapped in sukuna's domain. Non-canon. No spoilers.

Warnings: violence, kidnapping, rape/non-con, blood, gore. this is pretty dark and if that triggers you do not read! 18+ readers only! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 8.2k

Blood. It was the first thing that assaulted my senses. The air was thick with it. The stench of it was enough to make my nose curl upwards in revulsion, my eyes immediately stinging and tearing up. I forced my eyes closed, blinking away the burning sensation to my best abilities. The next thing I noticed was the smell of death. It was everywhere, surrounding us from all sides, along with the piles of bones that littered the ground. This was Hell, I was so sure of it. The dread built up in my stomach, reminding me that we could easily become a pile of bones and rotting flesh if we were not cautious. 

“Megumi.” I spoke out, my voice rumbling low with fear. 

“I know.” The Sorcerer beside me glanced over, his eyes narrowed in concentration. 

I suppressed the bile that rose up in my throat as we pressed on. The ground was covered in a thick layer of blood and water, making it incredibly difficult to maneuver. I had stepped on more bones than I could count, nearly losing my footing in the process. I would have toppled over if it weren’t for Megumi, his thick arm draped over my shoulder, keeping me balanced. 

“We need to get out of here. Whatever here even is.” My teeth gritted, almost enough to shatter them into pieces. Not only was it disgusting here, but it was frigid. My fingers could barely function, the chill I felt traveled all the way to my bones. 

Megumi gave a slight nod, but remained silent, he was too focused on what was ahead of us. Which was nothing much but more fog, blood, and bones. He was limping beside me, blood coating whatever was left of his uniform and clinging to his face. His upper leg was bleeding badly. Megumi and I were able to hold our own, our bodies strengthened from years of training and combat, but it didn’t mean that we couldn’t bleed out. And I feared that he would bleed out before we got out of here. 

I wasn’t in the best of shape either, my bicep had suffered a deep cut, not nearly as bad as his though. However, it hadn’t stopped bleeding since we were summoned here. Wherever here even was. My mental state was more damaged than anything, the fear slowly eating away at my senses.  

“Gojo?” I asked, peering up at him through my disheveled hair. “Nobara?” 

My mind drifted to Itadori when the names of my friends fell from my mouth, a frown forming across my lips as I thought of my best friend. A vessel to Ryoumen Sukuna, the King of Curses. Itadori could no longer control him and in return, we all lost our friend for the time being, hopefully. My eyes stung with fresh tears at the thought of it, brimming over the bottom of my lashes. I shook my head. Itadori was strong. He was going to be okay. At least, I tried to convince myself every night. 

“I don’t know. They might’ve made it somewhere safe. It seems like it’s only us here.” Megumi winced as he spoke, his ankle buckling beneath him and causing him to topple down in a heap. He cursed under his breath, his head hanging low, letting out an annoyed grumble.   

“Megumi.” I dropped down to my knees beside him, the fabric of my skirt soaking up the crimson liquid, coating my thighs. “Let me wrap it at least.” My hands moved to cup his face, thumbing away the dry blood around his mouth. 

He winced, squeezing his eyes shut in response. “That’s not important right now. I need to get you out of here.” He began to push himself off his knees, but buckled back down in the process. 

“Just stop! Why do you always have to be so fucking difficult?” I shook my head in annoyance. My hands fiddled with the hem of my skirt, tearing a strip of fabric off. My eyebrows were pulled together in concentration as I began to wrap his wound, pausing and resuming when he gave a sharp exhale. 

I knew that this wouldn’t be enough to completely stop the bleeding, but it was going to have to work for the time being. The navy fabric deepened in color as his blood pooled around it, soaking through it. 

“You shouldn’t worry about me.” He scowled as I pulled him back up to his feet. This time, he was able to apply more pressure on it and gained more stability.  

“Oh yeah? Then who will?” I rebutted, wiping my hands on my tattered uniform. I gave him a sideways glance, tempting him to try and say something else. 

He fell silent at my words, allowing us to continue on our way. Even with the little strength he gained from my bandage, he still placed his arm around my shoulders, keeping me close to his side. Even by this slightest action, I felt a lot safer than a few moments ago. The warmth pooled around my stomach, tightening into knots. A small smile formed at the feeling, bringing me some sort of joy in this hell. 

The further we walked, the stronger the smell of blood got, once again assaulting my nose. My lungs were struggling to gather enough oxygen, it felt as if the blood had coated itself inside of them, making it nearly impossible to get a full breath. I could tell Megumi was feeling the same. His labored breaths came out in short bursts from beside me, which had me worried.  

I knew we were in a Domain of some kind, a rather large and dangerous one. The anxiety that I felt in my stomach had tripled, slowly eating away at my calm demeanor. I knew that Megumi was surely feeling the same, but he had not shown it. His attention was too focused on the unstable ground beneath his feet, occasionally glancing around us for precaution.  

My eyes snapped forward when I finally shook off my dazed thoughts. The amount of bones had multiplied, seemingly appearing from nowhere. I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment. The space around us seemed to open up more, my eyes taking notice of a clearing up ahead. A large structure began making its way into my hazy vision, the daunting shadow sending a chill down my back. I narrowed my eyes as I tried to focus, unable to tell due to the distance and fog.  

My attention was turned back onto Megumi, I heard him swear and proceed to stumble on the remnants of animals, or humans. I couldn’t tell. I knew that time was a pressing matter, and it wouldn’t be wise to drag him all the way there in his condition.   

“I’m going to get a better look. You wait here, okay?” I shifted out of his hold, starting to jog in the direction of the unfamiliar structure. 

“Y/N! Slow down! We don’t know what’s out there!” Megumi called after me. 

I ignored his warnings, running faster. The adrenaline was pumping through my veins, compelling my entire body to run. The mere thought of escaping this place was too much for my body to handle. I felt my lungs struggling to suck in the air that my body needed, but I didn’t care. Every breath I drew burned my throat, and every time I smelt the air, I wanted to puke.  

The blood splashed around me as I pumped my legs faster, soaking into my shoes and nearly tripping me. I ignored it, continuing to press on while Megumi shouted after me. I gave him a sideways glance, noticing that he was struggling to keep up. 

“Just wait there! I’ll be right back!” I yelled back, glancing over my shoulder. He had trailed far enough behind me that I didn’t hear the next words he shouted at me.  

My attention returned as I neared the tower. My heart thumped against my ribs, numbing my senses with adrenaline. The air thickened, if that was even possible.

I was closer now, skidding to a stop as I craned my head back to look up. My eyes struggling to adjust due to all of the fog and darkness. I wiped them with the back of my hands, shaking my head in an attempt to alert my senses. 

The haze left my vision, now able to process what was directly in front of me. This wasn’t a tower, building, or exit. It was a pile of bones. My stomach clenched and I covered my mouth, backing away slightly. 

Skulls. Bones. Everywhere. This thing was made of them. There was even more littered on the floor. It towered sloppily, some were burnt, some were old, and some were fresh. I brought my hand up to my nose, which was now stinging with the stench of this place. I continued to back away from the base of it, my eyes following up the makeshift staircase, squinting as I noticed a chair of some sorts. 

Oh, no. 

This wasn’t just a tower of bones. This was a throne. A shrine. 

My eyes widened at the realization, my heart thundering against my chest. “Megumi! Run! Don’t come over here!” I screamed, praying that he would hear me somehow. My mouth hung open in shock, desperately trying to find the words I needed. 

Get out! Run! The voice at the back of my head screamed, but my body refused to listen. 

My legs struggled to keep up with me as I cautiously backed up, feeling like they were filled with lead. As much as I wanted to turn around and run, I couldn't pull my gaze from the vileness of this all. My body buzzed with anxiety, tingling all over. 

“What a little fool you are.” A voice behind spoke, my body jerked at the sound of it, stumbling around to face it. My vision swam at the quick action and I stumbled backwards, falling into the wet ground. 

I flinched, my eyes staying glued on the ground around me, unable to find the courage to face that voice. When I refused to avert my eyes, I noticed a pair of sandals step towards me. I couldn’t find the courage to look up, knowing that if I did, I would be dead. The anxiety I felt manifested itself into pure and utter fear now, compelling my unrelenting body to move. 

Slowly, I moved my eyes up and along the form that was dressed in white robes in front of me. My jaw slacked open, my hands planted beside me to keep me upright as I stared at the King of Curses himself. His red eyes bore into mine, a sinister smirk plastered across his marked face. 

Sukuna. This imposter wore the skin of my best friend, but I found no comfort in being around him. I sucked in deeply as I stared back at him. He was bigger than Itadori, stronger, and faster. His body was taut with muscles, rippling beneath his robes. The black markings covered his face, the two slitted eyes shut tightly as he watched me. This wasn’t my best friend staring down at me, this was a monster. A monster that stood for everything that Itadori was against. Someone, something that stole the life of my best friend. 

“A pretty little fool.” He mused, his eyes glimmering in the darkness. 

A wash of anger flooded through me, a mixture of the pain I felt for Itadori and Sukuna’s condescending words.

“Sukuna.” I hissed. “Let Itadori go.” I demanded, surprising myself with my tone. 

"I didn't give you permission to speak to me so informally now did I?" The king of curses tilted his head to the side to examine my frail body better.

"Let my friend go." I repeated, stubbornly fighting back.

Sukuna’s expression morphed into that of amusement, his back stretching to stand straighter. I, on the other hand, shifted back, leaning fully on my blood soaked palms. My heart raced, the panic beginning to set in, but all I could think of was Itadori. 

“That little brat?” Sukuna remained planted where he stood, his hand coming up to his chin in faux consideration. “No, I don’t think I will.” His smile widened, displaying his unnaturally sharp teeth. 

“Let him go and we won’t bother you ever again.” I gritted, shifting onto my feet now. The blood soaked through my uniform, clinging to my body and dripping down my bare thighs, which didn’t go unnoticed by Sukuna. His eyes flicked down to my body for a moment, then moved back to my face. 

He chuckled. “I have another idea. One you might enjoy more.” 

The grip on my nerves was slipping, telling me that I should run, hide, and find Megumi. Sukuna made no move towards me, but his words frightened me. The threat behind that sentence was enough to make me break out into a sprint around him. 

“Megumi!” I cried, my legs clumsily attempting to keep up with my pace. 

He was on me before I could even think. His arms snaking around me, capturing and caging me against his body in a flash. I cried out, struggling in his vice like grip, squirming violently. His hands lingered on my torso, right beneath my breasts. 

“We haven’t even begun, where are you running to?” Sukuna chuckled, his mouth pressed against the shell of my ear. The blood rushed to the spot where his lips grazed ever so slightly. 

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to fathom what was happening. My head craned to the side, trying to avoid his hot mouth pressing into my ear. My back was flush against his chest, feeling his chest vibrate with another sinister laugh which got louder, and louder as I shuddered at the sound of it. 

“Open your eyes. Your knight has arrived, little one.” He jeered, his warm breath tickling my cheek. 

My eyes snapped open, despite their unwillingness to obey. My gaze fell upon Megumi, who was wide stanced a few feet away from us. 

“This is going to be so much fun.” Sukuna whispered. 

The urge to run kicked in again and I tried to dive towards him in a panic, but Sukuna’s grip was unrelenting, keeping me stuck to him. A cry left my chapped lips when he jostled me back against his chest, his fingers brushing over my breasts. The feeling of his fingers lingering over the material of my drenched uniform made me whimper, squirming in his grasp. A throaty groan that rumbled from his chest didn’t go unnoticed by me or Megumi, who’s stare hardened.  

“Let her go.” Megumi made a move towards us, cautiously stepping towards the Curse that had me planted against him. 

Sukuna barely moved when Megumi stepped forward, instead, I felt the sharp end of his nail press into the skin on my neck, stilling Megumi’s movements immediately. I sucked in a sharp breath, my eyes pleading. Megumi was no match for Sukuna, the difference in their strength was incomparable.  

“I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt her.” He said, realization at the threat registering across his features. Sukuna’s pointed nail skimmed down the side of my neck, slowly making its way between my breasts.  

“Whatever I want, huh? Then why don’t we make a deal? I’m sure we’ll come to an understanding we both enjoy.” Sukuna taunted, his hands trailing down the sides of my waist, his nails just barely brushing against my skin, making the threat known. If I tried to run, he’d gut me with his hands. 

My mouth parted in disgust at his touch, slamming my eyes shut when I could no longer bear the look on Megumi’s face. Sukuna chuckled, enjoying the reaction he was pulling from Megumi, knowing he had struck a nerve by his actions. 

“Stop this.” He demanded. “Let her go now.” Megumi’s eyes were blazing with anger, his fists were clenched at his sides. His calm exposure was slowly unraveling at the sight before him, my eyes remained focused at the ground.  

“Are you deaf? Did you not hear what I just said, brat?” Sukuna shot back, annoyed with Megumi’s ignorance to his proposal. 

“Hand her over and then we will talk.” Sukuna seemed to contemplate Megumi’s proposal, humming to himself in thought.

“Are you worried that I’m going to hurt her?” Sukuna nudged me slightly, his grip strengthening on my shaking body. I nearly stumble back from the slight push, his body keeping me upright when my legs start to shake. 

I forced myself to take a deep breath, willing myself to stop the shaking. 

My eyes met Megumi’s, his stare was hard, eyes glossy as he watched me. He was struggling to contain his anger, it was evident by the way he gritted his teeth when he spoke, and his rigid stance. I had rarely ever seen this side of him, and wished I never would again. My heart shattered as I noticed his bandage gone from his leg, fresh blood dripping down into the sea of dark liquid beneath us. 

“Don’t make a deal with this bastard. Find a way out of here. I’ll be fine.” I broke my silence, pleading with him. Seeing him like this hurt a thousand times more than what Sukuna could do to me, or so I tried to convince myself. 

“Hear that Sorcerer? She doesn’t want you here anymore. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” Sukuna laughed hard, the deep sound of it echoing loudly, temporarily deafening me. 

 His fingers lingered around the hem of my skirt, toying with the ripped material lazily. His head dipped down, pressing against the side of my cheek. I kept my eyes glued on Megumi, watching as his expression shifted to disgust and then back to anger in a flash. 

To prevent Megumi from intervening, I spoke. “Let us both go and we will never bother you again.” I breathed deeply, flinching away from his touch.  

Sukuna hummed once again in consideration, his head tilted into the soft flesh of my cheek. “Deal.” I could feel his smile against the side of my face, his attention returning to Megumi. His brows pulled in as he took a step towards us, as he waited for Sukuna to release me. Something flashed across his face that I barely noticed in time. It couldn’t have been from my expression, which remained blank. It had to be from Sukuna. He did something to make Megumi’s eyes widen.  

“Wait, Y/N!” Megumi shouted, his words falling upon deaf ears.  

My eyes squeezed shut, waiting to wake up from this nightmare, wanting to be back home to Gojo, Nobara and Megumi. I couldn’t stand another second of being in Sukuna’s presence. It was more overwhelming than I could have ever imagined. I prayed silently, my eyes closed firmly as I pleaded internally. My heart fluttered as I swayed slightly, the knot in my stomach slowly dissipating at the thought of being home. 

I was met with silence. The suffocating feeling of Sukuna’s grip was gone. The air had become lighter, the oxygen finally making its way back into my lungs. 

Breathing deeply, I opened my eyes slowly. 

Blood. Bones. Once again filling my vision as the fear crept back into my system, paralyzing me in place. The room was spinning as my head snapped back and forth, my hands coming up to the sides of my head. No . 

“You failed to clarify that I had to let you both go at the same time.” Sukuna sneered, the sound of his voice coming from an unknown location to me. My eyes searched frantically for Megumi, who was nowhere to be found. “Stupid girl.”

“Megumi!” I screamed, my voice cracking.

I stumbled backwards, turning on my heel and making a run for it. Tears blurred my vision as I ran through the thick fog, Sukuna’s laugh echoing in the distance, mocking me. I sobbed harder now, running blindly away from the voice that seemed to come from all directions. I wiped my eyes, the stinging sensation disrupting my vision as I slammed up against something hard. 

I stumbled back, eyes widening when I met the gaze of Sukuna. His head was tilted to the side, staring at me through half lidded eyes, the thick muscles of his arms crossed over his chest. When I slammed into him, he barely flinched, watching me with amusement instead of annoyance. The look on his face was that of enjoyment, the curve of his lips silently telling me to try again. 

And I did just that. 

I retreated back, spinning on my feet and running in the opposite direction. The thickness of the fog once again lined my lungs, making my breaths come out in short gasps as I pumped my legs. The pool of blood beneath me splashed every time my feet slammed into it, staining my skin. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping me from passing out, it clouded my senses. 

The air shifted, the haze that once filled my vision was replaced by the familiarity of that god awful shrine of bones. Confusion spread through me, I had been running in circles? No . He was controlling this. This was his own Domain, he had the power to do whatever he wanted. 

“Have you finished, little one?” Sukuna’s voice was behind me again. 

The hair on the back of my neck stood upright. The muscles in my body pulled tight, freezing me in place, my eyes widened as I began to understand. I turned my back to the bones, returning the heated gaze to Sukuna. His arms were crossed as he watched me with curiosity.

I took a small step back out of fear. Part of me wanted to step forwards and fight, but most of me wanted to keep as much distance between this curse and myself.

“What do you want from me?” The structure behind me provided very little comfort in this situation, knowing that I was caged in like an animal. Grimacing when I realized I had nowhere to go. 

“Now isn’t that a dumb question from a dumb little sorcercer?” Sukuna laughs, loud and sharp and ear piercing, slicing through my confidence within seconds. 

Before I could even react, he was on me. I found myself bent over a broken pedestal, folding in half at the waist. Sukuna’s hand molded against my lower back, keeping me pinned beneath him. A strangled cry left my throat at the sudden movement, barely even registering what he had done until it was too late to run. 

“No!” A strangled cry flew from my lips, cutting through the heavy air. 

Sukuna laughed, his hand placing more pressure against my back when I tried to buck forwards. The force he applied to my back made it harder to breathe, leaving me gasping and coughing for air. My hands planted against the side of the pedestal, trying to push my body upright and away. The smooth stone is a sharp contrast to the roughness of my palms, blood coating the insides of my nail beds. 

“I’ve got you now, pet. There’s nowhere for you to run, no one to help you, no escaping . You’re all mine.” He says. A sick sense of fear builds up in my chest, my nails dig into the rock, attempting to wiggle away from him. 

“Let go of me!” 

“If you keep squirming like that, I’m going to start thinking you want this.” Sukuna’s voice rumbled from behind me, the sound of it sending a shock to my core. 

Nothing came from my throat except a sharp cry, my face contorting in disgust as I futilely attempted to escape. The thought of me even enjoying this made me angry. There was no way. I would never. I could never. He just wanted a reaction out of me. He fed off them. My eyes enlarged when I felt Sukuna’s free hand touch the bottom of my skirt, the flimsy material acting as the only shield between his prying fingers and my inner thighs. 

“Stop!” My shaky hands tried to find him, trying to detach his hands from my thighs. When that didn’t work, I clenched my thighs tightly together, preventing the access that he wanted. This did not seem to deter him, he snorted through his nose, and wedged his thigh between mine, parting them with ease.  

Sukuna ignores me, his hands lifting my skirt, and his fingers proding against my underwear, testing the waters. I shivered, partially due to his cool fingers pressing against my core, and partially due to the fear growing inside my belly. I squirmed in his hold, earning nothing more than a snicker from him. 

“Dry.” He says plainly. “Too bad for you, Megumi isn’t here to help you.” Sukuna sneered. 

My face flushed with embarrassment, mixing with the anger and fear that was already present. My body jolted forwards against the stone when I felt his fingers hook beneath the fabric of my panties, ripping them to shreds with a small amount of force. His hand that held me down shifted, only for a moment, and only to flip me onto my back.  

Half my body dipped off the structure, my legs spreading around his torso as he positioned himself closer to me. My teary eyes met with his lust filled ones, the look on his face was that of a demon. He was a demon after all. His lips pulled back into a smirk, his eyes focused on my face. 

My thighs clenched around his body, attempting to keep him from moving any closer. 

“Get the fuck away from me!” I wailed, nails digging into the skulls beneath me, trying to find the grip to pull myself away. My attempts remained futile, only doing so much as pushing the bones around. 

Sukuna let out a sinister laugh. “Keep fighting me. It turns me on even more.” 

His hands dug into the fleshy part of my thighs, spreading them further apart for him and ramming himself flush to my body. I let out a small whimper at the friction, his clothed erection meeting against the flesh of my pussy for a moment. His fingers dipped back down, my back arched upwards, trying to wiggle away.  

I froze at the sudden feeling of his nail pressing into my cunt, not enough to hurt but enough to make me jump. I looked up at him through tear clumped lashes, my eyes widening. I swallowed back the sickness that threatened to make its way out of my throat, urging myself to keep it under control.   

“I can make this hurt, or I can make this feel good, it’s your choice.” His words were like poison to my ears, embedding the fear further into my stomach. His nail still made its presence known, pressing deeper against my clit. 

“Please.” It sounded more like a question, my eyes searched his amused face, trying to find some sort of trace of humility. 

Sukuna smiled devilishly, bending down towards my stilled frame, and ignoring my pleas. The thick muscles of his back taking my focus, anything to distract myself. I twitched as his nail retracted and he rubbed gently, his thumb rolling in circles, building up the heat inside my core. 

“Your body is reacting so deliciously to me.” He groaned.

I squirmed in his hold, turning my face away. “Please d-.” 

“Don’t stop?” He chuckled.

Sukuna’s head dipped beside my neck, his tongue running along the side of it, leaving a wet, hot trail up to my ear. His breath was warm, a stark contrast to the cool air around us, so much so that I leaned into him. His fingers worked on the sensitive pearl, making me twitch every so often when he hit the right spot. 

His tongue ran back down to my collar bone, leaving another wet trail. My hands planted themselves against his solid chest, pushing aimlessly against it. It rumbled beneath the tips of my fingers with another sick laugh of his. 

“After I’m finished with you, no one will be able to satisfy you ever again.” He spoke. 

Sukuna grunted, his hand leaving my pussy as he wrapped both arms around me, pulling me onto his lap. Instinctively, my legs wrapped around either side of him, out of fear of falling backwards. One arm wrapped tightly around my back, keeping me pressed into him, while the other ripped at the buttons of my top. 

Each one popped open, exposing my chest, another shriek left my lips. My arms draped over the back of his shoulders, gripping onto him tightly for balance. With my shirt being ripped to shreds, this allowed Sukuna access to breasts, his head dipping down slowly. The heat of his mouth on my breast sent me into a frenzy of panic. 

My back arched, my chest pressing into him. His mouth leaves trails of saliva along my chest, kissing all over my flushed skin. My blunt nails dug into his back, trying to cause him any sort of pain in hopes that he would back off. Sukuna barely flinched, instead he groaned at my actions. 

His hips suddenly bucked forward, ramming his erection against my clit. 

“Gah!” My mouth parted at the sudden feeling, my thighs clenched tighter around him, my hips grinding down against the feeling. 

Sukuna’s mouth detached from my nipple, his eyes lazily flicking up to mine, looking at me with a knowing smile. My expression morphed into utter disgust at my body involuntarily reacting to him. His head tilted to the side ever so slightly as he moved his hips again, hitting that exact spot, this time harder and better. 

A groan rumbled from the back of my throat, my head tilting back and my eyes squeezing shut. My hands clenched into his back, trying to relieve the pressure in my body somehow. 

“Look at you. Coming undone when I’ve barely even touched you, like a little whore.” Sukuna's voice oozed. His free hand moved from my breast and down to my core, toying with the soft folds of my pussy. “You’d cum just like this if I let you, wouldn’t you?”  

“Uh-” My mouth opened up in shock. 

His fingers trailed up my slit, my arousal coating his fingers as he rubbed my clit. I could hardly keep myself steady, focusing solely on the heat building up at my cunt. I swayed slightly on his pelvis, Sukuna’s grip on my lower back tightened, keeping me upright. My mouth parted in shock, the pleasure continuing to build up in my core. I found myself grinding against his fingers, desperately trying to find release. 

Sukuna clicked his tongue, a breathless chuckle snapping me back to reality. 

“Feels good doesn’t it? You eager little girl.” 

His hand retracted from my clit, leaving me gasping at the loss of friction. His hands meet at my waist, lifting me off his lap and down onto my back. I started to shift away from him, only to freeze once he shot me a sharp glare. My eyes drop down at his erection, poking through the material of his robes. A darker stain found right above his pelvis, the wetness soaking through. 

Sukuna’s eyes followed mine, noticing the stain as well, his lips carving up to a teasing smile, just like he always adorned when he was toying with me. “Looks like you’re enjoying yourself, slut .” A flash of heat flickered across my features from his words. 

His hands tore at the fabric of his robes, before discarding it to the side. His cock sprung free, his hand trailing along the shaft, giving a few pumps as he watched me, his red orbs glaring at me like I was his possession. Unable to look him directly in the eyes, I let them roam over his body. Just like his face, black markings covered his arms, shoulders, and stomach. He was equally beautiful and cruel.  

“You should see how you look right now. I just love that look on your face.” Sukuna crooned, falling onto his elbows, caging me beneath him. He was thoroughly enjoying the reactions he was getting from me, knowing that I was completely at his mercy. 

“No. Please. Just-” 

Sukuna’s hands gripped me by my hips, pulling me towards him. The fabric of my skirt bunched up at my waist, exposing myself completely to his hungry gaze. He adjusted himself above me, his hand stroking his cock, slowly lowering himself towards my pussy. My eyes watched in shock, the sheer size of it enough to make my eyes grow wide. 

“Like what you see, hm?” He asked. 

I couldn’t form a single coherent thought, my mind raced as Sukuna’s fingers suddenly cupped my cunt, his middle finger slamming into my core before I could even realize. My head snapped back and my waist lurched forward, bucking into the feeling. My teeth ground down against each other, so tightly that I thought I would shatter them.  

“You can pretend that you don’t want this, but you’re so fucking wet for me. Who knew you’d be such a little slut?” Sukuna’s finger pumped faster, making it harder to contain the sounds that threatened to escape my mouth. 

 The composure that I tried to hold crumbled to pieces when I could no longer stop the sounds from escaping. My eyes screwed shut when I let out a moan, adding even more hatred I had for my reacting body.

“What a pathetic little slut. Do you get off knowing you can’t stop me?” Sukuna’s voice was condescending, his body leering down closer to me. “Does it make you wet to feel so helpless?” He pressed on. 

His free hand moved to cup the side of my cheek, thumb toying with the bottom of my lip. Acting on instinct, I quickly jerked my head down, catching his thumb between my canines and biting down as hard as I could. 

Sukuna barely even flinched when the skin of his thumb broke, blood filling up my mouth. His hand pulled away from my mouth, leaving the warmth with a plop. His blood dripped down the sides of my mouth, slipping down into my hair. I watched as his eyes slowly drifted down to meet my gaze. I felt his finger jerk up inside me, stabbing into the soft flesh of my walls. The pain erupted before I could speak, my words turning into a shrill scream.

“You little bitch. I knew you’d be so much fun.” He laughed, ending it off with a sigh. He examined his thumb, which had already healed. My teeth gritted together, the taste of his blood still lingering on my tongue. He pulled his finger from me after a few agonizing moments, blood mixed with my arousal, dripping down as I anxiously watched him. 

Despite the pain, the loss of contact made my body twitch. 

Sukuna’s hand wrapped itself around my throat, tightening enough to make my mouth hang open in surprise. My eyes bulged, hands immediately shooting up to grasp him. His other hand grabbed onto his cock, running it along my slit, coating himself in my wetness. My mouth hung open, closing every few seconds to swallow the saliva that pooled up. I gripped onto his hand, trying to pry his fingers off. 

“How precious.” He mocked my weak attempts to fight him off. 

The excruciating feeling of my muscles constricting took my focus, my core burning at the sudden intrusion. He entered me with a groan, eyes rolling back as he dropped down onto me. My walls clenched, the searing pain almost unbearable, even with the slick of my pussy. He barely gave me time to adjust before he snapped his hips into mine, the tip of his cock hitting my cervix. 

“Sukuna-” I managed to croak, tapping at his hand. The lack of oxygen was starting to get to me, my vision began to gray and my eyes fluttered. 

His grip on my neck loosened, unexpectedly. Unfortunately, I felt his pace pick up. He pulled away and then slammed back into me, hitting my cervix once again. This time, I screamed, unable to hold it back.  

“What’s wrong? Can’t handle my cock?” He chuckled, his face returning to my line of vision. His red eyes gleamed with amusement as he bared his canines at me. “That’s too bad…” His head dipped closer, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, the flat of his tongue pressed against my lips, lapping up the drying blood. 

My head twisted to the side and I made a sound that came out like a groan and a moan. His tongue leaves a wet trail of saliva across my face, mixing with the blood. I feel his hand leave my throat, gripping hard at my waist instead. 

The thick muscle continued pounding into me. My muscles strained, forcing me to try and relax myself. If I was relaxed, it would hurt less, right? I breathed in deeply, demanding my body to release the tension that was building up. The sound of skin on skin filled the air, making it even harder to control my anxiety. 

“You’re not giving up already, are you?” He taunts in between groans. 

My lips pressed into a thin line, hiding the sounds that sat in the back of my raw throat. I felt the angle of his torso change, spreading my legs open even more, hitting at an angle I didn’t even know was possible. 

“Sukuna, please.” I whimpered, my body jerking from his harsh movements. “It’s too much.” His hips planted against mine, grinding down hard. 

“I want to hear you beg first, slut. Maybe then I’ll let you cum, hm? How does that sound?” His voice dripped with malice. His nails dug into my side, enough to bruise but not draw blood. 

My frantic eyes met with his half lidded ones, watching me to see what I would do. I opened my mouth to respond, but my words were replaced with another cry as he slammed back into that same spot. My hands slapped down against him, hitting him with every ounce of strength that I had left, which did nothing to him, his only response was a small laugh.

“Please! Please! Sl-slow it down.” I mewled beneath him, squirming in his grip. 

My eyes focused hard on his, which twitched with knowing. “I want to hear you say it.” 

I shook my head, another snap of his hips causing my back to lurch. The pain exploded and I sobbed. I felt myself clench around him, trying to push him out in any way that I could. My attempts of forcing him out were fruitless, he only seemed to enjoy it even more. I tried so hard to keep my composure, but it began to dwindle with each thrust. The pain was building up faster than my body could handle. 

I bit hard on my tongue, stopping the whimpers.

“Did you say something?” He ridiculed me. 

His arm hooked under my thigh, raising it up slightly. At this angle, he was even deeper than I ever thought he could go. It hurt so much. Even more than before. His intent was to force me to beg. He wanted me to have no choice but to submit. It was either beg or be split in half. 

“M-ake me-” I stuttered, shaking my head. “Make me cum, please.” I begged, hating the way the words sounded on my tongue. As soon as they left my mouth, I wished that I could take them back. The feeling of humiliation took over, flushing my face from any color. 

He dropped my thigh at my words. 

Sukuna chuckled, his hand moving down to my clit, but not before he leaned back, spitting onto it. I jumped when his saliva hit my clit, the feeling was enough to make me moan. 

“Good girl.” He coos, lessening the force of his thrusts and circling his thumb around my clit. The pain subsided, instead, the warmth flooded back into my core, leaving me throbbing and wiggling in his hold. 

“Such a brave little sorcerer you are. Taking my cock so well. So well .” His words sent another jolt down to my pussy, clenching down on his cock hard. The sounds of wet skin hitting against each other drifted to my ears, red burning at my cheeks. 

“I’m going to ruin you.” His words rang heavy in my ears, his thumb moving quicker, getting me to where I needed to be. My eyes rolled back and I moved my hands to his shoulders, clawing at the tough skin. I grinded my hips down onto his fingers, desperately chasing my own release. The pressure exploding, nothing but a sharp gasp leaving my mouth as my head tilted back. My vision sways as my pussy clenches around him, my nails digging into his skin deeper. 

“Cumming already? Desperate little slut. Putting up such a fight for nothing.” He patronized. 

My head drops to the side, his words falling on deaf ears. Sukuna’s hands moving back up to my waist, tugging me in closer. I feel his cock throb inside me, the pleasure turning quickly into a feeling of overstimulation as he continues to pound into me. 

“No. That’s not true.” I gritted.

“It’s not? You’re not just another dirty slut? Cumming for a fucking curse?” 

His words stung deep, erasing every thought that I had inside my brain within seconds. My face burned bright with a blush, lips pressing into a thin line. My teeth bit down onto my lip when I felt him thrust again, this time not as deep and not as hard.

“You’re such a mess. If only Megumi could see you now, cumming all over me, and wailing beneath me. I bet he’s thought of you like this.” Sukuna looked down at me, another smirk appearing on his face as he taunted me, eyes widened and sadistic. 

I turned my head away from his gaze, only to feel his hand dig into my cheeks, pulling his head back towards me. My lips pursed together, a sly look appearing on his face.  “Oh no. You’re going to watch me, or I’ll dig your eyes out of that pretty little head of yours.” His voice was demanding. 

Everything in my body hurts. My back dug painfully into the rough and uneven ground beneath me, jabbing into sensitive spots whenever I shifted. My muscles began to grow tired, fatigued from the fight and the strain it was being put under. My arms slipped from his shoulders, pressing blindly and weakly against his abdomen. The high from my orgasm was beginning to wear off, the pain was setting back in. 

My eyes remained focused on his, too afraid that he would make word on his threat of tearing my eyes out of my head. I felt another rush of humiliation when his words were processed. 

Sukuna flipped me round, bending me over the pedestal again. My bare stomach and breasts pressed up against the cool surface. It felt good against my sticky skin, cooling my body down slightly. His cock left me for a moment before he lined back up, his hips slamming against my ass. I squealed at the change of position, taken aback by the swift movement and sudden feeling of fullness.

“I’m not finished with you yet.” His voice growled from above me, the flat of his palm finding my lower back again, pressing me further into the smooth stone. My hand shifted back to meet his when the pressure was building too much on my stomach, feeling like he was trying to push me into the stone. 

He grabbed onto my wrist and pinned it against my back, leaving my other hand to support myself as he drilled into me. 

“You’re so fucking tight. Ah-” My knees scraped against the floor, back dipping down. 

With each movement, my arm went further and further up my back, the burn in my shoulder making me scream out. My cheek was pressed uncomfortably against the stone, tears blurring my vision as I stared into the abis. 

Another snap of his hips caused me to bite my lip, holding back the cries that I knew he would feed off of. My muscles were stretched to their max, and I could only pray that he would finish already. I prayed for death. 

I craned my neck slightly, watching as Sukuna kept his gaze on my ass. I started to feel light headed, whether it be from the strain that was being put on my body, or something else, I felt like I was going to pass out. Sukuna barely let up, using his other hand to support my slumped form. 

“S-sukuna. I-” 

His nails dug into my skin. “Don’t pass out on me yet. I have no intentions on fucking a corpse, that would be boring.” 

I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut as he continued fucking me. His pace did not let up, bruising my cervix with each thrust. The feeling of his fingers back on my clit made me snap back into reality, my hips squirming against his fingers, desperately trying to find some pleasure to relieve the pain. 

“That’s it.” He grunted, his movements growing stronger with need, the need to find his own pleasure. 

“Oh, god.” I moaned, back bowing down to get closer to him. 

Sukuna snickered, his fingers picking up the pace at my body's response to him. He released the grip on my arm, seeing that I was no longer fighting back. Instead, I felt both his hands plant on my waist, fucking me even harder. With this angle, I could feel every inch of his cock inside me, filling me up completely. 

“So needy. Are you going to cum again for me?” His words sent me over the edge, my orgasm hitting even harder than the first one. My body clenched and my eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open in pleasure. Sukuna gripped me harder, his movements beginning to slow as I felt the hot rush of his own orgasm filling me up. The deep groan of his own release deepened the feeling of my orgasm, fueling it even more. 

I remained still against the pedestal when he pulled out of me, my body unable to move from exhaustion. The muscles in my body were strained and sore, even breathing was starting to hurt. My eyes fluttered closed, slowly slipping down to the ground beneath me. I could faintly hear Sukuna laughing behind me, shuffling for his robes. 

I barely heard him step near me until my eyes opened, his form crouched beside me. It took every ounce of strength in me to narrow my eyes at him, my jaw clenching down. 

“Ah, don’t give me that look. It makes me want to fuck you again.” He purred, his hand reaching out to wipe away a strand of hair. “Don’t you want to see your friend again?”

My eyes snapped open at his words. “Itadori?” 

Sukuna tutted, his head turning to focus beneath us. I slowly followed his gaze, noticing a small figure in the distance, closing in on us. My reddened eyes strained in the general direction, narrowing in focus. That raven coloured hair made my heart jump, followed by my body launching towards his direction. I no longer cared about the pain in my body, it slowly turned into numbness when I saw him.  

“Megumi!” I wailed as I got up to my feet, pushing away from Sukuna. 

Sukuna caught me before I could get away from him. “Ah, ah, ah.” His chest rubbed against my back. I squirmed once again in his hold, watching as Megumi stood rigid a few feet in front of us. His fists were clenched in a tight white grip, his eyes set hard as he scanned over us.

“You bastard.” Megumi’s voice was rough.

Sukuna ignored him, instead he leaned beside my ear. “I’ll be seeing you again.” 

He gave me a light shove towards my friend. My feet stumbled, barely able to support the weight of my body. I took shaky steps towards Megumi, my hands fumbling to pull down my skirt. My face burned with humiliation as I crashed into his arms. The warmth of his body was comforting, but not enough to stop my shaking. He tried to cover me with the best of his abilities, his grip was tight around my waist. 

“I’m going to kill you.” Megumi hissed.     

#sukuna ryomen #jujutsu sorcerer #king of curses #yandere #megumi jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x oc #dark fantasy #jujustu kaisen #sukuna #reader insert #long reads #yandere sukuna #jjk #domain #sukuna x reader #kidnapped reader #obsessed #smut #sukuna smut #heavy smut

[writingquestionsanswered]

Outlining has always been a major issue for me. I don't have any idea how to do it properly. It bores me and most of the time I quit halfway. I also don't find any of the outlining methods on the Internet enjoyable. Any tips?

Outlining Isn't Enjoyable

Here are a bunch of things to consider...

1 - "Outlining" Just Means "Planning" - I'm not sure what outlining methods you've seen on the internet, but the truth is, as far as writing goes, outlining really just means "planning." And if you want to plan your story in advance, you can do that via whatever means works for you. Beginning to end written summary, verbal summary in audio notes app, mind map, timeline, scene cards, scene list, chapter summaries, scene summaries, mood boards, academic outline, story structure map, method template, playlist... you could outline your story through interpretive dance if that's what works for you.

2 - Outlining Isn't a Requirement - Like pretty much anything related to process, outlining isn't a requirement. Outlines are mostly done by so-called "planners" who prefer to flesh things out before they start writing. Many writers consider themselves "pantsers" in that they like to "write by the seat of their pants" or "wing it." These writers like to let the story develop organically, as they write. They understand their first draft might be extra messy, but they know it can be cleaned up and refined in the second draft.

3 - Outlining Isn't Really Meant to be "Fun" - If you're a writer who needs to plan your story in advance, and so you need an outline of some sort before you start writing, please know that for the most part, the majority of us aren't always approaching the outlining process with glee in our hearts and ticker tape falling from the sky. I mean, outlining can be fun, but a lot of the time it's just work. It's just something that some of us have to do before we start writing, and it's not particularly grueling or mind numbing work, it's just not the most fun thing we could be doing in that moment.

4 - Is the Problem with Your Story? - If you're a writer who needs to outline your story, but you find yourself bored to ears when you outline--to the extent that you can't even finish your outline--it is worth taking a step back to consider whether the problem isn't with outlining but your story. No matter how excited you might be about elements of your story, if you're boring yourself to tears while planning it or writing it, that may be a sign that something's not working. In other words, if you're bored planning the story, there's a good chance the reader will be bored reading it.

5 - Is the Problem Something Else? - If you're a writer who needs to outline your story, and you're really excited about your story and feel that it all works very well, but you're still getting bored and frustrated with the outlining process, then something else is going on. Things to consider: are you well rested and feeling well when you sit down to outline? Are you nourished and hydrated? Do you feel like you're in a pretty good headspace? Are you in a reasonably comfortable space that's relatively free from distraction? Are there other things competing for your attention? (Social media, texts, friends hanging out in the other room, someplace else you'd rather be, something else you'd rather be doing?) Are there other important tasks you're putting off that need to be done? Is there anything about the story that is difficult for you emotionally right now? Sometimes it's just a matter of trouble-shooting what's going on in your life, your space, and your body/mind before you start working on your outline.

I hope something here clicks with you!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

[allzelemonz]

Developing Powers: Clark Kent X Male Reader

Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ and ‘man’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: M/Mentions of sexual situations, nudity Warnings: Characters are the same age, high school aged characters, awkward teenagers, pillow fights, farm boys being farm boys, showers, cold showers, accidental peeping Tom, mentions of masturbation Summary: Clark’s developing powers complicate things when his best friend stays over the weekend.

Clark’s pillow hits your head and you fall backwards onto his bed with a grunt. Before you can react, he’s on top of you with his hands pressing you down on your chest as he laughs in victory.

“Not fair, Kent.” You huff, struggling to reach for your pillow.

He grins, grabbing your wrist. “You started it.”

A knock prompts you both to look past the foot of Clark’s bed to the door. Pa Kent stands in the doorway, laughing lightly. “You boys are supposed to be in bed, lots of work in the morning.” He looks down at you. “And I won’t have your father thinking I ruined your work ethic, young man.”

Clark moves off of you. “Just messing around, Pa.”

“I know.” He smiles. “But I let him sleep over so you two could get to work early.”

“We’ll go to bed, sir.” You say, sitting up. “Sorry if we were being loud.”

“Just get your showers and get in bed, boys.” He turns to you. “We milk our cattle early, up by four.”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

Pa Kent gives one last fatherly point before he closes the door and his footsteps creak over the floor towards his and Ma Kent’s room.

Clark tosses you a towel, hitting you square in the head as he giggles. “You can go first.”

You stand, giving his shoulder a light shove as you grab your backpack and disappear into the hall. Clark giggles to himself, just happy Pa agreed to let you stay the night to help with farmwork over the weekend. He flips through his homework packet, trying to find the energy to actually read the questions. He doesn’t. It’s Friday, his best friend is staying over, math homework can wait. He tosses the packet onto his desk, writing a note to do it on Sunday. With any luck, his developing super-speed applies to his math processing too.

When Clark looks up, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He can see you. His x-ray vision has slipped before and he’s been practicing his control on it, but it’s never caused him to glance up and see his best friend naked. Not just naked either, naked with water dripping over your skin and absolutely no limbs obstructing his view of your hanging dick.

Clark’s face turns bright red and he slaps his hands over his eyes. His skin has turned hot and his heart is beating a mile a minute. Sure, he’s been in a locker room with you and you’ve used urinals around each other but he’s never got such a full frontal in his life, there’s always been a wall or arm or folding pants in the way. Clark takes deep breaths, trying not to think, but when he looks back in the direction his eyes peer through without control. His breath hitches, he nearly chokes, watching your hands run over your dick. It's just scrubbing, just washing, but Clark’s mind wanders to images of you alone in your bedroom and he has to bury his face into the pillows of his bed to get his head back.

He’s sweating, face hidden in his pillow as he tries to breathe. He shouldn’t think about his best friend like that, he shouldn’t even be able to see you through the stupid walls. When Clark catches his breath and shifts to sit up, he freezes. The cotton of his boxers rubbing with the rough denim of his jeans, all making sparks of sensitivity shoot down to his toes by shifting against his now hard dick. Clark wants to scream. He just got hard at the mere thought and sight of his best friend touching himself.

The water shuts off and Clark scrambles to grab his stuff, holding it in front of himself as you walk out. His heart skips as you do, your hair still a bit wet and the pajamas clinging to your body from only just being put on.

You stop, looking at him strangely. “Uh, you okay?”

Clark nods, trying to hide his flushed face. “Mhm, yeah, just really need the shower.”

He rushes past you, disappearing into the hall. He closes the bathroom door behind him, breathing heavily as he tries to clear his head again. When the thoughts remain, Clark turns the water on cold and closes his eyes. The water washes over him, helping his erection die down in the icey temperature.

#clark kent #superman #dc comics #clark kent x reader #clark kent x male reader #superman x reader #superman x male reader #dc comics x reader #dc comics x male reader #x reader #x male reader

[nburkhardt]

This is something that hasn’t left me since I read a fic from fucking glee years ago. It’s haunting me and goes away only to come back and swirl in my head so I’m just gonna write it out.

Saying this now, i remember a lot of season 4 but I’ve blocked out the Stancy parts hahaha so it’s not completely accurate to the show I don’t think. Also a quick heads up, I skip a lot of what happens in the show because it’s taking up too much brain power remembering those things lol (ps: if you see typos, no you don’t)

~

“I always pictured you, just, wanted to let you know before we head straight into danger”

Something inside of her wants to break and yet all she can do is nod at him and immediately head into that danger. Not wanting to look to closely at it right now, there’s more important things going on right now.

Takes her shotgun and decides she’s ending this once and for all.

It feels like an eternity passes before she finds herself in the hospital. One second she’s ruining her eardrums using the shotgun right next to her face, the next she’s following the emt’s light.

Surprisingly all of them has made it, she doesn’t know how but they have. It’s all she knows, couldn’t hear properly and too out of it to really follow anyone anyway.

“-eler, ms? Hello, Ms. Wheeler? Can you hear me?”

Nancy blinks hard and looks around to find a nurse standing next to her, “oh, sorry. What did you say?”

The nurse smiles softly at her before shaking her head, “I was asking if you wanted to call your parents now? Our generator finally kicked in and we’ve already asked your friends”

That makes her blink again, her ears still somewhat ringing, “yeah- yeah! I’ll, um, do that”

The call with her mom she barely hears, but she knows that they’re on their way. As she hangs up the phone she looks around and doesn’t see any of her friends, it makes her nervous.

“Hey, where are my friends?” She asks the same nurse and catches her surprised look, “did- you already told me didn’t you?”

The nod is enough but the nurse still says, “Yes, two of them got admitted, the other two are in there with them. They didn’t want to be separated so they’re in room 130, just over there”

She knocks once before opening it to find what she expected, Steve in one bed with Robin clinging to him and Eddie on the other with Dustin sitting next to him.

It shouldn’t be surprising but it is.

“Nance! Heyyyyyy, welcome to the party!”

Robin snorts, “don’t mind the Dingus Duo, the doctors gave them some strong medicine for the bites”

She shakes her head, smiling just a little at them. Steve’s mumbling about Robin ruining the party, Dustin’s laughing and Eddie has his eyes closed either falling asleep or already there. She takes a seat on the extra chair, opens her mouth but lost her words. The room is filled with beeping, Steve and Robin whispering and Eddie snoring.

It’s nice, this is nice.

A pleasant change from the chaos they went through just hours ago.

Seeing Jonathan is amazing, he pulls her close and presses a kiss to her forehead. Her arms are wrapped around him and she can’t stop the tears from falling even if it’s a happy moment.

Because it is, actually seeing him in person and not just hearing his voice.

He holds her close and it feels great, it does. But there’s Steve’s words echoing in her head. It makes her hide her face in hopes to cancel them out, she’s with her boyfriend. The boy she loves with all her heart, and yet, yet she’s thinking of the one she broke at sixteen.

Those words swirl, rattle and settles in her head as she helps fix the cabin up. They burn when Jonathan jokes about Steve being in charge, she huffs a laugh but disagrees.

She sees the confusion on Jonathan’s face. That doesn’t surprise her. Instead of continuing, they’re interrupted.

Seeing Joyce and all of the Byers reunite brightens the moment of confusion, seeing Hopper is a massive shock but a welcomed one.

Fixing the cabin is a process, but with the actual adults back, they decide to stop for the day and make their way home.

She watches as Mike clings to El and Will, watches as Joyce holds Hopper’s hand in a death grips. Sees Jonathan hovering and she’s on the outside.

There’s those words making her stay on the outside.

There’s static in her ears, her vision blurry, heart beating fast and she can’t figure out what happened. How did this happen? They were fine, Jonathan promised. She promised.

“I’m really sorry, Nance. I just can’t be in a relationship anymore, I love you. I do, but my family needs me and I, I need them more. You have to understand” he’s holding her close and she can feel his tears fall onto her, “I won’t ask you to wait, you deserve someone who’ll love and focus on you.”

All she can do is nod as tears go down her face.

They share one last kiss before separating for good. He hugs her close and she squeezes her eyes shut.

It’s several hours later, having spent most of the day in a haze. She’s sitting at her desk, trying to get her focus back, when those words from months ago start to swirl back in.

“I always pictured you, just, wanted to let you know before we head straight into danger”

“-just travel across the country, with my family”and “always dreamt this” filters in with it, she doesn’t know what she’s feeling, she shouldn’t be thinking about her first boyfriend like this.

Jonathan just broke up with her, not even a full twenty four hours yet.

But the words are swirling fast and she can feel her stomach flutter suddenly remembering that feeling those emotions Steve used to give her.

It was nice, even if sometimes she had to be away from him. He did treat her like she was his world and it felt like it. Nancy goes to sleep with a plan set in mind.

Tomorrow, she’ll go to Steve’s and hope he still wants that second chance.

Dressed in her best clothes, wearing pretty make-up, she makes her way to the Harrington house.

Seeing Eddie’s van parked outside doesn’t surprise her, not really, what does make her pause is when she walks by a bike and skateboard on the porch.

Seeing that makes her doubt the timing, Eddie there is alright he shouldn’t know the history between her and Steve. She also swears she heard him talking Steve about lost loves and second chances.

The bike can only be owned by Dustin and he definitely knows the history and Max well, since Spring Break, has been particularly living with Steve at this point. Stating a number of times that Steve is her brother, she might not know the story but she’ll be questioning.

But she’s here now and Steve’s words are on fire in her head.

So, she moves ahead determined. She knocks on the door and takes a few deep breaths to get her composure.

The door opens and it’s not Steve answering, it’s Dustin and she blinks. Losing that composure she just gained, it’s quick and she’s quick to get it back with an easy smile. “Hi Dustin, can I come in?”

He’s been hanging out with Eddie too much lately, since he is loose with his posture now and opens the door with an exaggerated smile and waving his arm as he opens the door more.

“Nancy?”

She looks around, sitting on the couch is Max who’s got an eyebrow raise and frown.

“Hi Max, I wanted to speak with Steve. What’re you doing here?”

Both of them shrug and Dustin moves to sit next to Max, “We have plans with Steve and Eddie, we got tired of waiting outside”

“So we broke in”

She rolls her eyes, moves to stand closer to the stairs, “Are they awake? Where is Eddie?”

The two share a look and she can’t figure out what it means, Dustin has a mischievous smile once he’s looking back towards her, “Upstairs”

A little suspicious at the look, but the words in her head has her pushing forward despite the alarm bells ringing that something is up.

Steve’s house has changed since the last time she was here, there’s more life within it and old family portraits are gone, photos of friends in their places instead. There’s a door with a sign saying ‘Dustin’s room’ on it, and she passes an open door that was originally Steve’s. It’s cleared out except for the desk and the plaid wallpaper.

The next room is opened just a bit, she itches closer and pushes the door to see more and her whole body freezes.

There on the bed is not only Steve but Eddie too. From where she’s standing, Eddie’s pressed up against Steve’s back and has an arm around him; keeping him close.

She tears her eyes away from them and immediately regrets it.

On the floor is a mix of Steve’s clothes and Eddie’s, that’s not it though. Sitting directly next to bed is ripped condom packaging and by the trash bin is a poor attempt at throwing away a used condom.

It brings her attention back to the bed, in the short glance away, Steve has moved in his sleep. Instead of facing away; he’s now facing Eddie and nearly on top of the other. She tenses up as Eddie tightens his arms around Steve, then she pulls the door shut before moving quickly down the stairs.

Without acknowledging the two on the couch she makes it to the door, just as she pulls it open the door she’s stopped.

“They’re asleep still? We could tell Steve you stopped by” she can just hear smugness coming from Dustin and Max sniggering.

Shaking her head, she refuses to look back at them, “no, no, it’s fine. Have uh, have a good day!”

“It doesn’t make sense! I, I thought- he” Nancy mumbles to herself, trying to collect her thoughts. She didn’t even bother moving yet, still sitting inside her car mumbling and trying to figure this out.

She could’ve sworn Steve was flirting with her, she knows she was a little during the fight. It felt natural and right. Even though it was wrong, very wrong. But- it was potentially the end of the world, they could’ve died! Everyone involved would understand her lapse of judgment.

Steve had told her, admitted his dream with her in it.

Him and Eddie? Steve likes boys? Since when? Was- was it a lie then? Was she being led on? Maybe even being used?

She’s so in her head, she doesn’t notice anyone walk up and only realizes when her whole body jolts at the knocking on her window. Shaking her head and reaching for her glove box, looking over her eyes widen at Steve standing there.

He’s wearing sweatpants with only a jacket over his bare chest, he looks worried, confused and most importantly; scared.

Taking a breath, she rolls her window down before looking at him, “Steve, hi.”

“Nancy, what are you doing here?”

Frowning, she looks away from him and startles at seeing Eddie standing there by the door also looking scared. Her eyes must be wide, because Steve clears his throat and she immediately looks back at him. “I- I”

Steve sighs, dropping his arms to run a hand over his face and hair, looking away from her, “Nancy, what you saw- you can’t tell anyone. Okay? Please. I don’t understand why you’re here right now and I really don’t want to know rig-” he shakes his head, “just, please don’t tell anyone”

She opens her mouth, but the words get caught. Steve’s look is haunted, even more afraid then a few months ago. Closing her mouth, taking another look at Eddie by the door before focusing her attention back on Steve.

“I won’t. I promise, Steve. I won’t tell anyone, just- maybe we can talk sometime? All of us?”

He clearly wasn’t expecting that, she can tell by his eyes and how he glances behind him, before looking at her again. “I’ll have to talk with Eddie first, but, uh yeah sure.”

Steve gives a weak smile at her that she tries to match, despite her racing thoughts. He steps away from the car and she starts it, nodding her head before driving away. She watches in her rear view mirror as Steve walks over to Eddie and only squeezes his arm before leading him inside.

Imagines that once inside, Steve pulls Eddie close and holds him tight.

Three Days Later

It wasn’t avoiding them, she really wasn’t. She had to collect her thoughts, really figure out what she absolutely wanted in life now.

Which, she still doesn’t know, at least relationship wise.

Thinking back on the last few years and how they’re finally no longer fighting for their lives and the world, she can go for her dream of becoming a journalist. Which is exactly what she realizes, two days into her thinking, that’s what she actually wants in life. Not a relationship with Steve. Not even a relationship with Jonathan at this point, she doesn’t need that right now.

By the third day, she realizes how selfish she was acting and how much she actually scared, maybe even hurt Steve and Eddie.

That’s what brings her back to Steve’s front door with an apology and some cookies. There’s no bikes or skateboards this time around, just Eddie’s van and it’s not first thing in the morning.

Knocking on the door is quick and as she wants gets her composure and tries to relax. It’s not long before the door opens, Steve standing on the other side and her mind flashes back to the night in 83. Shaking her head to get rid of it, smiling she raises her hands up with the plate.

“I bought cookies”

Steve smiles a little and let’s her in, “you didn’t have to, Robs and I had a baking spree last night”

“Yeah and it’s all delicious!” Eddie shouts out, from somewhere.

It does some a little like a bakery in here, she notices. Placing the plate on the table before looking at Steve, “no, my mom insisted I bring them.”

Steve just nods as he closes the door, “It’s fine, we love cookies and if we don’t finish them, Eddie’s friends and Robs is coming over later anyway”

He leads her towards the kitchen and she’s not surprised to find Eddie at the table with paints and figurines, “Elder Wheeler, good afternoon on this fine day”

A laugh bubbles out of her, as she takes a seat across from him and she watches Steve take the seat right next to Eddie. Eddie looks towards him and she gets to see a silent conversation pass between the two, it’s not like the ones she’d see between Steve and Robin or even the ones she’d have with Jonathan.

It ends a second later when Steve looks towards her with a tight smile, “Nancy, I’m sor-”

“No!” She’s a little loud but it makes his mouth snap shut and Eddie to widen his eyes, “sorry, but you don’t have to apologize to me. If anyone should, it’s me. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you guys or to make you uncomfortable. I, I wasn’t thinking straight”

Eddie snorts, “couldn’t imagine how to do that”

It makes both her and Steve break into a smile, she’s quicker at sobering up though, sits straighter and clears her throat before settling her eyes on Steve, “I was being selfish, that’s why I came over the other day. Your words were in my head and I thought, maybe they were telling me that we could have a second chance. But I realized, I don’t want it anymore.”

Steve looks confused, “my words? Wha- my old dream? That thing?”

She nods, “yeah and I didn’t think things through, came here and found you both in bed and, scared you”

“You did” Eddie nods, dropping a hand to Steve’s, “When Dustin and Max mentioned you were in the house and looking for Steve, it really did scare us”

“I know, and I’m truly sorry for doing that to you both.” She looks away from them and sees how tightly Eddie has Steve’s hand in his, “You’re-”

“Relationship,” Steve interrupts her, “our relationship”

She nods, “it’s yours and I shouldn’t have even thought of you the way I was.”

They both nod and it’s quiet for a moment.

“Can, can I ask you?” She doesn’t know how to approach this, this isn’t something she does a lot. This is completely different from anything she’s done before, “You don’t have to tell me anything”

The couple share another long look before looking back at her, “I’m gay, I only like boys.”

“I like both. I especially like Eddie” Steve’s smile is bright and aimed completely at Eddie, “before you ask, we’ve been dating since we got out of the hospital.”

It surprises her, it’s been months.

“Yeah, I was surprised too. Thought Stevie boy was still high off the pain meds, turns out he was completely serious” Eddie laughs, “We haven’t told many people, gotta be careful with this”

She’s not surprised by that and nods, “I understand, I’m just a little confused- if you liked him and why give me hope? Why tell me that dream of yours”

“Nance, we were in the middle of a war,” Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand before letting go and reaching over to take her hand, “I wasn’t lying, I did dream of having a future with you. I thought we weren’t going to come out of it, didn’t think I’d have even a chance of growing up. That dream was from a little lonely boy who loved you with everything, I thought you should know that before something happened to us. But that wasn’t my only dream, and I know that’s not the kind of life you’d want, right?”

Her eyes are watering and nods, “You’re right, it was nice though”

It makes all of them laugh and Nancy feels like she knows him better, “I really am sorry, not just for scaring you. But for what I did back then”

“I’m sorry too”

There’s tears falling from both of them and she can see Eddie wiping away his own eyes.

A laugh bubbles up out of her, then Steve and lastly Eddie. It’s tears and laughter between them now.

~

Okay, look I’ll be completely serious right now. This wasn’t supposed to be this long, honestly. That’s why it ends the way it does, because it could go on even more. But I’d be repeating myself I think. Also, all of this just for the image of Nancy finding out about Steddie in like the most awkward way possible. (Without it being completely explicit 🤣)

Hope it reads okay, I had some help from the discord babes, @i-less-than-three-you & @strangersteddierthings! Love you both lovelies 💜

Information that isn’t in the fic: Robin and Wayne are the first ones to know about Steddie. Dustin, Max & the CC boys are the only other ones that know (besides Nancy) everyone else doesn’t. Also this takes place over a span of a few months. The very first part is directly after vecna (max isn’t hurt) and jumps to the “two days later” after that. But Jonathan and Nancy break up is about two months later.

TAGLIST! (If you want to be added, let me know!)

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @grimmfitzz

#Nancy finds out about steddie #steddie #steddie fic #past stancy #Nancy Wheeler POV #nburkhardt writes #pls don’t hate me for how I wrote Nancy this was my first real attempt 🫣 #pls know I do love her #Nancy Wheeler #steve x eddie #stranger things fic

[thewillowtree3]

Korrasami Secret Santa 2023!! ;DD!!

Hi, Korrasami fam!! We're back!! ;D!!

We're doing Korrasami Secret Santa for 2023!! (Sike, I did not copy this part from Korrasami Secret Secret 2022, but the rest I will LOOL). 6 years and kicking, babey, let's go ;DD!!

The rules are the same:

Korrasami creators will be able to gift one another with Secret Santa gifts. Whether it be fics, art, videos, animations…the fun’s all there! (It doesn’t have to be holiday-themed! It can be whatever you want :)

The Process:

This Secret Santa exchange will be done through drawnames.com, which is a Secret Santa Name Generator. You’ll need your email for this, and you can message me it directly on Tumblr (I’ll gather everyone’s names up, and put them into the generator when it’s time to draw names.)

The due date to sign up is 11:59 PM Nov 30, 2023 PDT (I’d like everyone to have ample time to do their Secret Santa gifts). :)

Most likely, you’ll need to make an account on drawnames.com (you don’t need to, but it’s recommended.  When you get to writing your Wish List on there, under ‘Hobbies and Interests’, make two different lists: One for ‘Fic Requests’, the other for ‘Art Requests’. If a writer draws your name, you’ll have a suggestion for what you want them to write. If an artist draws your name, they’ll have an idea of what to create! (Also, originally, this project only had fanfic and fanart- but if anyone can contribute any other talents, that’d be swell!)

Example: Fic Request- I want Korra and Asami cuddling at home with a fireplace!

Art Request: I want Korrasami going otter-penguin sledding!

The fic and art requests can be the same, or they can be different. Please limit it to one, or if you can’t choose, then two options. You can also note things that you don’t want (i.e. No smut or NSFW work!). You can be as specific as you wish.

Also, everyone else! We recognize that there may be people in the fandom who don’t create content, but still want to contribute! @lamftw​ came up with these great ideas four years ago, if you’d still like to participate in the Secret Santa. You can:

Create Korrasami memes! The more memes, the better :)

Share your favorite Korrasami headcanons! We’d love to hear them.

Share your favorite artwork/fanfic!

Share your favorite moment from LoK or share how much Korrasami means to you.

Create Korrasami memes, write a sweet holiday message/ note of appreciation :)

Also, we can all show some love to our favorite creators, to Bryke, Janet Varney, and Seychelle Gabriel (the voice of Korra and Asami, respectively). :)

When everyone has signed up, I’ll put all the names into the Secret Santa Name Generator. You should get an email, asking you to join the Secret Santa exchange. Just click ‘Join Group’, and you’re good! Once everyone has joined, the names will then be drawn, and you’ll get your chosen individual (you’ll get an email for this too). Please remember to check your email on Dec 1; we cannot draw names unless everyone has joined the Secret Santa group!

The reveal will be on Dec 19, 2023 (the 9th Korrasami Anniversary ;DD). Post your work on Tumblr, and tag the person you got, so they’ll know what lovely work they got! Also, please tag ‘Korrasami Secret Santa’ so we can save these posts for the future :).

Please note that if you sign up, you HAVE to commit to making something. This is open to all creators, of any skill level, but please please make something if you sign up. You don’t wanna leave anyone hanging!

Last note- remember to message me on Tumblr and give me your email. That’s the way to sign up! :)

Let's freaking go, y'all! LET'S MAKE THIS A GOOD ONE!! ;DDDD!!

Spread this to all your creator friends! LET'S GO FAM!! ;DD!!

6 YEARS IN A ROW!! LEGGO!! ;DDDD!!

Note- 11/27: Hey y’all, I’ve been shadowbanned recently LOL. Idk when Tumblr will unban me and give me my account back so ;__;. Because I’ve been shadowbanned, I cannot see any messages about the Korrasami Secret Santa :((. If I don’t get my account back before Nov 30th, I’ll just have to postpone the event and make a new date for it/prolong the posting date. I’ll keep y’all updated ;__;.

Note-11/28: Y’all, I just found out- Y’ALL CAN SEND IN ASKS!! I can still see them!! ;DDDD!! So if you still wanna join, please send me an ask with your email. I’ll still be prolonging the join/posting date if I don’t get my account back before Nov 30th, but this is a solution in the meantime!! :33

#legend of korra #korra #asami #korrasami #korrasami secret santa #fanart #fanfic #it's back!! ;DDDD!!

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 23

Fic masterlist

I’ve been writing this chapter amidst chaos and I was obsessed while planning this spicy scene. I hope you like it? The writing process wasn’t half as sexy, considering I have terrible flu 🤧

Warnings: NSFW

Words: 2,2k

The groaning creak of Aelin’s rusty window being opened jolted her awake. She shot up in bed, heart racing, only to register Rowan’s hulky figure invading her bedroom.

She threw herself back in bed, relieved and slightly less annoyed. “Alexa, what time is it?”

“You already know you’re late. The time is 6:42 a.m.”

Rowan sighed, finally inside, and closed her squeaky window. “I forgot how sassy your Alexa is.”

Rubbing both eyes, she slowly processed whatever was going on. Yesterday’s fight over Fleetfoot the Dog. Aelin’s late—and depressingly lonely—wine night. Rowan showed up here when she specifically told him not to.

“I took Maisie to Aedion’s, they’re going to the pool.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet. “We need to talk.”

“Where’s the key I gave you?”

“I didn’t know how you’d feel about me using it now.” After their fight, he meant.

“So you’d rather break into my house through my bedroom window instead?”

Rowan eyed her reading armchair, but decided to pace instead. Aelin could barely pay attention to him, only thinking about how she asked him for time to process the situation, but instead he decided to wake her up right after dawn to talk.

Aelin adjusted her pillows to sit by the headboard. “Did Maisie wake you up early today?”

“I didn’t sleep.”

She ran both hands on her face, trying to recall her last thoughts regarding the doggie situation. If Rowan wanted to make decisions alone rather than considering her opinions as a couple, she could go with it. “I want 50/50 custody of Fleetfoot, same co-parenting arrangement and shared expenses as we do with Maisie. I already made a new expense spreadsheet.”

“So you want the dog?”

“Oh my God.” Aelin leaned her head against the headboard, looking up. “Rowan, this is not about the dog!”

He furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes carefully assessing her, and that’s when she realized he was lost.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to phrase her feelings in the clearest way possible. “If I’m Maisie’s mother, if we’re together, and if you see yourself living with me within the next decade, I don’t understand why you’d get her a dog without talking to me first.”

“Very well.” His body tensed, both hands on his hips. “Another 50/50 custody. That’s what we’re doing, then?”

“Yes. That’s how I deal with things when I ask for time to think and you don’t give it to me.”

He resumed pacing around the room, one hand on his hip while he gesticulated with the other. “Look, I want to give you space, but I can’t sit and do nothing while you rethink our relationship.”

Aelin tilted her head, eyes squinted at him. Now she was the one who was lost. “While I do what?”

Rowan huffed, a hard look aimed at her. “You know…”

“I really don’t.”

“You pushed me away because you didn’t trust me.” Rowan sat on her armchair, eyes narrowed at a random point. She gave him time, knowing he wasn’t great at expressing himself or his feelings. “Now you gave me a second chance, and things are still delicate because I’m still proving myself.”

“Proving yourself…?” Aelin trailed, trying to understand his train of thought.

“That I deserve your second chance.” His voice slowed down as he sensed her confusion. “That you can rely on me in a way you didn’t before.”

Aelin’s mouth opened. And closed. It was a rare feat to make Aelin speechless, but Rowan did it this time. Had he been thinking like that for the past month?

“I was in a very vulnerable place five years ago, and our relationship was too undefined. I barely had the energy to think about something romantic between us, let alone fight for it.” Aelin fiddled with the corner of her blanket, feeling Rowan’s gaze on her, hanging on her every word. She continued, “That’s not the case now. I told you why I pushed you away back then because the situation called for it, but I don’t want to torment you over something you did so long ago.” She sent him a close-lipped, hope-to-be-reassuring smile. “Besides, I already know I can trust you. Did you ever fail with Maisie?”

A bitter chuckle. “Yes. Several times.”

Aelin left her position on her bed to straddle him at the armchair, her chest filled with warmth. “Well, you wouldn’t be a parent if you didn’t.” She combed his hair off his face with her fingers. Her fussy Buzzard, always thinking too much. He’d just started therapy, and Aelin knew it’d be a long process until the worst of that weight fell off his shoulders, but she’d be right there with him the entire time. “Your very chivalrous theory about needing to prove your worth was totally debunked, being Super Dad and all.”

“I was a terrible co-parent to you.”

“Me too.” Aelin put both hands on her hips, eyes squinted at him. “Are you putting me on a trial test?”

“I would never—“

She raised both eyebrows, silently begging him to think this through. Yeah, buddy, it goes both ways, she hoped her face conveyed.

“So, just to be sure, you’re not breaking up with—“

“Gods, Rowan!”

“Alright, alright.”

He held her close, face resting near her neck while he breathed her in. Aelin kissed his head, squeezing him into her embrace. Sometimes, when she’s with Rowan, no amount of touching feels like enough. Right now, she felt like melting and merging their bodies completely so every cell of her body hugs every cell of his. It was so silly, but it did feel like heaven to hear his mocking groans, as if Rowan hated being squished to death.

Aelin grinned down at him, still straddling his lap, and cupped his face with both hands. “You’re mine.”

He kissed her palm. “I’m yours.”

“And you love me,” she said. Not a question.

“To whatever end,” he breathed.

She leaned to kiss him, meeting him halfway. What started as a tender kiss soon turned molten. Rowan’s hands traveled down her torso, hungrily grabbing her, as Aelin ravished his mouth, full of need while grinding down on his lap from how much her body burned for him.

Rowan hooked both hands under her thighs and lifted them up from the armchair, carrying Aelin to her bed. He dropped her in a seating position and caged her with both arms, still standing while pressing their foreheads together.

“You’re mine.” His eyes were glued to hers and so close, she felt the claiming in her bones, her soul.

“I’m yours.” Her answer was as truthful as the throbbing between her thighs—very.

“And you love me.” Such hope and quiet joy in his eyes, beneath all that fierceness.

“To whatever end.” Beaming at him, she radiated with the intensity of that moment and needed to show him how much she meant it.

Rowan kissed her again, dragging the moment until Aelin nipped his lip. He opened his mouth to protest, but when she felt him through his pants, it melted into a hiss.

Aelin dropped to her knees in front of him.

“Baby, you don’t have to—“

He cursed when she pulled her pants down. Aelin kept eye contact while she pumped him, trying to hide a smirk. The words died on his throat, mesmerized by the sight of her face and his cock so close. He held still while she licked the head, but Rowan’s eyes closed, his head lolling back when her tongue ran over his full length.

Aelin knew she didn’t have to but, fuck, she wanted to. She pumped his heavy, veiny length, panting, entranced. How a guy used his cock had always been something she valued more than the member in itself, but it was definitely a flex that her boyfriend came with both traits. Her need to be filled was driving her mad, but Aelin was dying to worship him too.

One more swirl of her tongue and she took him deep inside her mouth, quickly finding a rhythm. Cheeks hollowed, Aelin also worked him by massaging his base and his balls—it was near impossible to swallow all of him, no matter her attempts to deep-throat his cock.

Rowan’s eyes were glued to the way he disappeared into her mouth, and he kept praising her, guiding her head with his fist and hissing when he hit a particular spot near her throat, then again calling her a good girl that sucks his cock so well.

“Fuck, baby.” Rowan thrust into her mouth, and she was growing almost feverish with the sight of him using her for his own pleasure.

One of her hands disappeared between her thighs without interrupting his ministrations, but it only worsened the burning feeling she tried to soothe. A moment later, Rowan cursed at how wet it came back to toy with his balls.

“Baby.” He caressed her jaw, holding her gaze. “Fuck. The things I’m doing to you after this…”

Aelin moaned around his cock, almost losing her rhythm. His hips jerked, making him grip her hair harder.

He growled, “You have no idea.”

˜˜

“Must you tell her everything?” Rowan politely complained, jaw tight.

Aelin gaped. “But she’s our therapist!” Her defensive remark had a slightly higher pitch.

Yrene had her lips pressed tight to hide her amusement. Her job was to meddle in their relationship, but sometimes she chose not to—especially during a small bicker.

The woman cleared her throat. “It looks to me that you both communicated your thoughts and feelings on your own, mid crisis, while shielding your daughter from it." Yrene had a satisfied, close-lipped smile on while she typed on her computer. "That’s impressive progress. In fact, I feel like we’re ready to space out our sessions, so we can gradually transition you two out of therapy.”

Aelin felt a lightness inside, and her grin was almost too much. Hell yes, she was more than ready to cut off some sessions—if she counted her individual ones as well, Aelin saw Yrene way too much.

However, Rowan frowned, not looking convinced. “But we just had a fight.”

Their therapist waved him off. “You will from time to time. The important thing here is to identify when you’re falling into an old pattern, and to revisit conflict management skills when—not if—needed.” Yrene tilted her head, carefully studying Rowan. “But I can wait more to space out sessions if you don’t feel ready yet, even if I’m not discharging you immediately.”

His eyes darted between the two women, unsure.

“Baby, I think we’re good.” Aelin squeezed Rowan’s hands. She worked with a whole different way of looking inside her patients, but she knew how successful this case was.

“We won’t be working on new skills from now on, just maintaining what you already learned,” Yrene added, focused on Rowan. “Besides, I already consider your case successful. Couples don’t often get back together, let alone in a healthy relationship—sometimes, I’m only trying to prevent murder.”

The corner of his mouth quivered, and he squeezed Aelin’s hand back. “Alright, then. How often is it gonna be for now?”

˜˜

“Gods, I feel so spiritually evolved.” Aelin matched her boyfriend’s grin outside Yrene’s office, in the building’s hallway. “Every time a therapist praises me, I feel like lighting incense and doing yoga.”

Rowan hummed, wrapping his arm around her while they waited for the elevator. “Yoga’s nice. We could try it out—“

“Fuck, no. You promised me chocolate cake.”

“I didn’t mean now.” He studied her from the corner of his eye. “Tomorrow?”

“Nope.” Not ever, if she could help it—Aelin doing exercises about balance while having a giant bump that messed her center of gravity up? Scarred her to death. “I have a hip replacement tomorrow. Did you know that performing those is worse than CrossFit?”

“No, it’s not.” Rowan snorted. “You told me they were super easy when you were pregnant with…”

Realization made him lose his words. To Aelin’s defense, it was just a little white lie she told so he wouldn’t lose his mind with worry. Rowan’s eyes widened, and Aelin was saved by the elevator arriving at that exact moment. She hurried past him inside and watched him slowly enter, still staring at her.

The elevator moved, restarting him as well. She shook his head and stood behind her. Noting that they were alone in that metal box, Rowan grabbed her hips with both hands and whispered, “I’m punishing you for that later.”

Aelin shivered with his words fanning against her ear, feeling a whisper of his smirk when she trembled under his fingertips. Slightly pressed against him, she breathed, “I bet you are.”

You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @backtobl4ck-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

TAG LIST

I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

@aelinchocolatelover

@autumnbabylon

@bookcide

@booksandteaonarainydayislife

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@courtofjurdan

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#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #look at us now #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic

[fizzigigsimmer]

Fargo s5 Episode 8: Manipulation and Codependency.

I am UNWELL after this last episode. I have so many thoughts. What it says on the tin, this is just me processing my reaction to the latest episode so if you are not caught up, spoilers will be found within.

Let’s start with the lady of the hour. Miss Dot. Miss Dorthy Lyon 👏🏾 Put some respect on her name. This character is endlessly fascinating to me. She’s incredibly complex. Almost over powered in one sense, but also incredibly fragile. We’re seeing now in clearer detail what an accomplished manipulator Dot is. She’s not just a fighter. She’s not just hiding and masking her trauma. She is actively playing the people around her and moving them around a board in her mind. The same way Roy does. The same way anyone in a position of power does, honestly.

Roy and Loraine and people in general, we seek control over others out of a place of insecurity, in order to make ourselves feel safe in our little worlds. Survivors of abuse are particularly good at this, and it’s something I am so glad to see the narrative touching on. The media likes to paint victims with cinderella syndrome. They are often childlike innocent caricatures who are endlessly kind and pure in the face of unjustified cruelty, purely so that audiences will emotionally attach to them quickly and feel whatever amount of fear and revulsion the creator wants for the antagonist. But the reality for real people who suffer domestic violence and other forms of abuse is that they’re just people. They have the same potential for good and bad and selfishness, they developed unhealthy coping mechanisms and they learn to play the game just like everyone else. And when you live your life in fear, you have more incentive than most to get good fast at controlling your surroundings.

We see another example of this in Karen this episode. Roy’s current wife is no stranger to her husband’s violent temper and is very aware of the danger he represents. When he’s humiliated in spectacular fashion and likely to lose his election, there’s this palpable tension in the air as the family rides home. We know heads are going to roll, and from the look on Karen’s face so does she. When she first opened her mouth I was so scared for her. lol I wanted to reach through the screen and shake her, like “shut up! That man will kill you.” At first I thought she was being hopelessly naive, saying exactly all the wrong things to try and comfort Roy that were only pressing on the wound. BUT THEN! Then we watch her turn it on Dot. She calls her a curse, playing into Roy’s belief that there are scales to be balanced in order to make the world right again, and pointing out that all of this only happened when Dot came back. She basically says, Dot’s the reason you have bad luck not me. Go hurt her and not me. And then he does. It’s brilliant.

I was on the edge of my seat watching Dot desperately try and hang onto her world. Everything from her name down to who gets to remind Wayne to take his Lactaide medication, using anything and everything at her disposal to do it. When Roy isnt impressed by being reminded he married a child around his own son’s age - oh please, she had hair and her period so she wasn’t a child - she switches tactics quick as a whip and leans hard on Roy’s family man ideals. She relentlessly forces him to confront the contradictions in his actions by reminding him he is destroying a family. Finally, when that fails too she delivers a violent threat. You will do as I ask, or I’m going to hurt you. The writing here was so masterful. They are opposites. We’re rooting for her, and yet, they mirror each other. Dot has been using manipulation tactics she learned at the hands of her abusers to carefully curate a place where she feels safe, and now that it’s all crumbling around her she’s finally starting to see it for herself.

Her scene with Gator was particularly poignant. Because when he comes in, he’s subdued and we get the feeling that he’s there (whether he’s going to admit it or not) purely because he wants to see her. Her, the big sister who used to comfort him while he watched his father abuse his mother. Who then replaced his mother and became his father’s wife while his own mother seemingly abandoned him. The way she plays him in this scene is so heartbreaking to watch but also incredibly insightful. She knows why he’s here: because deep down he wanted to see her. She dances back and forth between playing on their buried bond ( “I didn’t tell the FBI anything” implying, she wouldn’t tell them anything that would hurt him) and plucking on his insecurities (you’re sloppy, you’re weak, you’re a fuck up and your daddy doesn’t love you).

But the biggest card that Dot tries to play is Linda. She tells Gator that she saw her and tries to bring him into her fantasy that Linda got out and has healed from her trauma. That she loves him and never meant to leave him, and that everything will be okay if he just helps her get out. She can take him to his mother and they can leave all of this behind him, and he can finally be free to be the person that deep down she knows he wants to be. And I just love the way this scene was played. Because while it is tempting to believe that Dot is purely just confused from the accident and the sleep deprivation, the music lets us know that more is going on here. We hear flutes, specifically those played by snake charmers. Gator is the snake, and Dot is hypnotizing him before our very eyes. This isn’t the first time Gator has been connected to snake imagery/symbolism either. When Dot decides to tell him why he’s not named Roy after his father, she likens him to a pale little lizard. @tdciago did an excellent post on some of the symbolism we’ve seen in the show thus far, and it really emphasis how often Gator is likened to or associated with snakes: His character bio compares him to the snake in the Garden. His LOL tattoo has forked tongues on the Ls. He's got a "Don't tread on me" flag featuring a snake in his room. He stopped at the Gas 'n Go to "drain the snake." He left an empty Slim Jim wrapper in Donny Ireland's evidence box, that looked like a shed snakeskin. He said that Munch came up "snake eyes."

And as much as Dot’s speech about Linda is about playing on his natural yearning for his mother, it’s also about them too. It’s about Dot. In a way, Dot is also saying that she’s sorry. She never meant to leave him alone. She loves him and she wants things to be alright. They can be if you just help me. Gator obviously wants to believe what Dot is saying is true all of it, but he’s not as dumb as everyone seems to think he is. He knows Dot lies to herself and to others and he calls her out on it. With a single line “You’re lying. You’ve never once in your life told the truth.” we’re left to wonder about all the lies Dot has had to tell over the years. First in order to survive on her own as a teenage runaway, then when she was taken in by the Tillmans, and again when Linda disappeared and she became Roy’s wife.

She told herself that Linda got out, that she was somewhere safe and free and building the life that she wanted. At first she used this lie not to have to face the reality of Roy, of her own likely end, maybe even to appease the twisted sense of guilt she would feel taking Linda’s place and in the light of Gator’s grief over his mother’s sudden absence. Later, she probably used this lie to give herself the courage to be her own Linda. To get out and make the life for herself that she deserved, even if it meant having to leave Gator behind. Even if he doesn’t understand all of the pieces, in his heart of hearts Gator knows his mother is never coming back. She’s either gone or dead, and either way she left him just like Dot did, and Dot is lying to herself.

“I hope you die in here Nadine and that you never see your kid again.” Because that would be justice in his eyes. That would balance the scales. Because he’s never getting out, so why should she?

“No you don’t.” And it’s true. She knows him. Knows he wouldn’t even be here if he weren’t soft. She gave him an opportunity. This was Gator’s crossroad and he chose to stay his course, and the looming figure of Munch reinforces the message that Officer Witt Later delivers, the consequences for Gator are almost here.

Dot too is approaching a crossroad. Because as the episode progresses she is forced to finally confront one of the lies she’s been telling herself for years. Linda is dead. She never made it out. She’s buried under the windmill with Roy’s other enemies. This is not the first time that Dot has seen this windmill, because it was also in her dream about Linda. I would not be surprised if all of Roy’s wives did not witness a body going into that ground at some point or another because of how Karen was so quick to redirect Roy’s rage to Dot. They’re on different sides of the line but they are both fighting for the same thing. To be with their children and not to end up rolled into an early grave.

#fargo spoilers #fargo season 5 #fargo reaction #gator tillman #dot lyon #roy tillman

[leeknowsnot]

listen (platonic han x reader)

genre: angst, no comfort, band!au

notes: platonic, 9th member!reader, reader is changbin's sister, written in 3rd pov, reader is referred to as she instead of "you"

warnings: mentions of d-ath and s-ic-de

i'm still in the process of writing kinktober day 3 so here you go for now!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ" your burden is not yours alone

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ there are those who share it

there are those who learn from it

and there are those who

willingly speak about it

you just have to listen"

January 7th, 2023

"Stop. Let's stop," Seungmin abruptly said from the other side of the room, ceasing the music being made within the four-walled enclosement they were in. Everyone had looked at him in confusion as he ran a palm through his face with an exasperated exhale, the guitar hanging on his shoulder yet looking like it had weighed more than it did. Minho was silent but he was eyeing the other male along with Chan who was raising his eyebrows. Seungmin's tone was not loud yet it was laced with quite the frustration.

"Y/N," he called out. She blinked, mouth agape and glanced at him. Seungmin stood before her, eyes wallowing in what seemed to be dismay followed by a few more gazes from Chan and Minho.

She spoke, a confused tone lacing her words. "Y-Yes? What's wrong?"

Seungmin replied with a sigh, "We've been practicing the same song for a whole week now and you've been hitting the wrong beats for more than thrice already. Our first gig is just around the corner and it's only a few days before we finally get on stage with a large crowd watching. Let's try not to mess this up, okay?"

She had found herself having more difficulty nodding than staying silent but she had an uncomfortable fidget on her seat which Chan noticed. "She's probably just tired. We all are, considering we even had weekends reserved for practice and we all know she gets tired a lot more than the rest of us. I think we should call it a day," he tapped on the male's shoulder.

The frown from Seungmin's mien softened, looking at her before he had finally agreed to his proposal. "You're the boss. I'm just trying to keep things on track," he says.

Minho had sent a nod at Y/N's direction as he put back his bass on the stand and with a few words of notice about where he'd be headed, left off.

"I'll be going on ahead as well then," was the last thing Seungmin had said before following suit, leaving the two of them in a complete silence. It felt like Chan was staring right through her soul and it somehow made her conscious.

"What is it?" she muttered through her lips, looking down at the snare drum that had seemed to become the most interesting object to look and distract herself from his stare.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" his voice was straightforward, typical Chan, but there was a slight tone of concern laced within his words. "You do seem like you've been out of it for the past days. Is there something wrong?"

She shook her head, probably out of instinct but she had decided is would only bother Chan if she said yes. "It's nothing, really. You're right, I'm just probably tired. Seungmin has been out of it as well and the others.. They're probably exhausted too."

They weren't. In fact, they had plenty of rests in between practice hours and they were more than enough for exhaustion to be such an overstatement.

"Are you sure?" he asked. His voice was even, mellow.

Y/N hummed, hoping her facial expression was convincing enough for him to stop questioning her which would probably lead to a whole therapy session. "I'm really fine. I just need some breather, that's all," she answered. To which in her surprise, Chan had taken as a genuine response and finally left her to herself by her drum set. She sighed in relief, packing her drumsticks in her small backpack and threw the cover on the set.

When she was finally set on leaving the studio, she stood beside Chan as he sat, burying his face on a piece of paper. Probably finding the right word for a new song from his so-called mind palace. He was never the first to leave the studio and was always the last to leave—thus, the whole band teasing him that he was here more than he had stayed in his own house. She bade him goodbye, leaving the room and headed towards the corridor.

It was never silent in the record label's building. If not for the muffled sound in practice studios, her brother Changbin's loud and booming voice could be heard echoing through the walls. As she reached the training room, the same drum set, recording set, and instruments had welcomed her and brought her waves upon waves of memories.

...

You always call me full of regret

You want me to save you again

December 12th, 2020

"You really have a nice voice," she had said out of the blue, slightly startling the male whose back was turned at her.

"You really have a hobby of giving people heart attacks," Jisung deadpanned at her, earning a laugh from the female. She sat beside him, hand occupied with her lunch tray and gave him a wide smile.

It was during middle school when they first met. She had been friends with Chan for quite a while but it was also not long when she had met Jisung. "Did you try singing at talent shows or joining bands? You shouldn't put that voice to waste, you know," she said, chewing on a piece of fry.

"No. I don't like bands."

"Why not? Afraid of a little commitment? I heard Chan's planning on forming a band for the school show. C'mon, it's fun!" she laughed.

"It's not very convincing coming from someone who transferred schools a lot and met sorts of people. But no, it's not like that." He eyed back his notebook, gripping the pen between his fingers and started scribbling again. He never had the best penmanship.

"I just don't like how they disband in the end eventually after years of bonding."

...

After all these years, the days go by

I've seen you fall a million times

Everybody makes mistakes

February 17th, 2022

"What's with that face?" he gave her a side look, ready to inch away. "Why do you look like you're about to cry."

Y/N clicked her tongue, glaring at him. "I'm not. I just can't get this beat right. I've been redoing this part for how many times now, it still sounds weird." She scrunched her nose at him. "Minho won't be too happy if he hears that mistake during our number. You know how he just stays silent but he's actually judging you. Even Changbin refuses to help me out with this."

"Alright, alright. Give me the drumstick, we'll sort your problem out," he sighed at her, which had probably sounded like he was done with her whining. She gave him the weirdest grin.

"Stop it Y/N, you're weirding me out."

...

June 5th, 2022

Y/N scooted towards Jisung, eyes peeking at whatever he was writing. "What are you doing?"

His head snapped at her direction, a surprised expression on his face. "Y/N, you scared me! Don't go creeping up on people's backs, it's scary!" She only gave him a hearty laugh, taking a seat beside him.

Jisung let out a sigh before chuckling, head turning back to his notebook. "It's a song," he says.

She shrugs. "You always write songs. Don't you do something else? Something more... fun?" Jisung gives her a laugh.

"Rich coming from someone who's also a band member," he rolls his eyes. she nudges his shoulder.

"I play music, not write them. Beating drums prove to be far more entertaining than composing." This earns her a smile from Jisung who turns back to writing again.

"It's kind of like a stress reliever for me. I get to say things i can't say. Pour out the feelings I can't show," he says.

She sat beside him silently, an amused expression on her face as she watched Jisung pour out his lyrics on his paper.

...

It feels so hard to watch you hurt

From the pain a lesson learned

This is how you find your way

July 23rd, 2022

1 ring. 2 rings. 3 rings. 4 rings.

She didn't want to answer her phone. Her weight had gone down yet she refused to move an inch. How many days had she skipped classes? She couldn't count how many.

Usually in cliché novels, it would rain dramatically in sync with the protagonist's melancholy. But it was the perfect weather; no rain, no scorching sun, no whistling wind. Just plain silence that gave such a temperature that was comfortable for everyone but her. Y/N cursed at the sky. She cursed at the simple noises by the street outside her house. She cursed at the faint droplet from the sink by her bathroom. She cursed at everything.

A loud banging from the front door disturbed the deafening silence. It irritated her. She tried to ignore it, hoping it would cease eventually but the more she ignored it, the more it became louder. It took more than half of her will to stand up from her bed, hair disheveled and almost stumbled down the stairs. She was pondering whether to open it or just pretend she was not home. Ths cold metal knob came in contact with her palm as she twisted it open. They stood in front of her, four faces agape with disbelief and distress. Chan was the first to speak.

"Why weren't you answering our calls? We were worried about you," he had a look of both guilt and responsibility. Minho looked like he was ready to scold her for neglect and Chan was not very pleased at the sight of her state. Jisung was giving her a sympathetic look.

"We know you're still sad about our loss. But that's normal. We lose some, we win some," Jisung says. "Here, I had Felix bake you a cake."

"I'm sorry," was all she could say.

...

You feel so lost, I've been there too

Skies so dark no way through

Stories only scars can tell

November 20th, 2022

Y/N knocked at the practice room door, clutching at her drumsticks in her hand. "Anyone here?"

Seungmin and the others stood behind her, sweat dripping through their shirts as they had finished their last band show for the university—a college farewell party.

A muffled answer came from inside the room. "I must've locked the door by accident. My apologies. Yes, I'm here." Jisung opened the door, his other hand occupied by the guitar he was holding.

"We're going out for a drink. You left the backstage so soon earlier so we came looking for you," Seungmin spoke from behind her.

"It's our last day as students, after all," Minho followed. Chan only gave a nod.

He pondered for a moment, pursing his lips and finally gave an answer. "I'm sorry. I might not be joining you guys this time, I have some... matters to attend to." Y/N gave him a puzzled look. "But I'll try to join once I'm finished."

"Are you sure?" Chan asked in which he responded with a nod. She looked at him, torn whether she should ask if he was doing alright or not. She went for the latter.

"Hey, are you alright?"

He gave her his most genuine smile. "Yes."

...

February 11th, 2023

The sun had barely touched the buildings when Y/N arrived at the studio. Just a few days ago, the band was running on sticks and stones with her being off beat and Minho being on the edge of losing his patience but today was different. Yesterday was the milestone of Stray Kids' first live musical performance as a band under a well-known label and it was definitely more than something to be celebrated about.

The moment she entered the label's building, a lively party had filled the place from ground to the top floor. It was as if yesterday the othe band had the same festivities right after theirs and that was a couple of weeks ago. It was the label's way of recognition over the bands' efforts.

She squeezed herself towards their room, sometimes bumping past shoulders of people that were familiar only by face but not by name. As soon as she reached the others, she let out a huff. Seungmin was by the side, pouring Jeong In a drink, her brother was laughing at Chan's antics, and Minho was looking at Chan with a weird expression as he always had. It was just like any other day.

Only, it felt incomplete.

As if a puzzle piece was missing.

She walked past Changbin, placing her drumsticks by her set and took her bag from her shoulders. He had given her a wave, greeting her but she didn't answer.

It felt wrong. It all felt very wrong. It felt... What was it? Unfair? Why was she feeling unfair? Was it because she was the only one who felt that way or was it because she was wondering why they never mentioned anything about him?

"Hey," she heard her brother speak from beside her, now leaving an occupied Chan who busied himself with Minho's weird expressions.

"Hey," was the only answer she gave.

"Are you alright? You look like you woke up on the bad side of the bed again," he responded back at her, his locks brushing at his left cheek but to which he paid no heed at. "Don't tell me you're having PMS again—"

"I'm not in the mood for jokes, Changbin," she cut off his sentence. Y/N sighed, glancing at everyone with both her eyebrows raised. Both spoke with a hushed tone that only they could hear. "Doesn't it feel wrong to you? Everyone's having so much fun, it's unsettling."

"Of course everyone is," he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. "It's your band's debut yet you're the only one who has that ugly, long face. Not that you're weren't ugly before."

She glared at him, ready to stab him with a drumstick the next time he cracks an untimely joke again. "I hate it. We shouldn't be celebrating so much like this. There's nothing to even celebrate about."

Apparently Changbin didn't like her statement. Even Y/N herself was surprised at her own words. "Y/N, I don't see the problem why we shouldn't be doing this and you won't even tell me why."

"I also don't see why you're not feeling the same way I am right now," she retored back at him.

"Feel what, Y/N? I don't get you. If you just told me—"

She had cut off his statement with a louder tone. "Why, you ask? I should be the one asking that. Why is everyone acting as if everything is okay? Why is no one talking about Jisung?"

She had said it too loud. Heads turned towards her, mouths shushed, and the only noise was the low volume music by the speakers.

"Why is it that everyone just started pretending that everything was back to normal and why did Chan pick up that rhythm guitar without even saying a word? As if Jisung had never been our member? As if he never existed?"

"Tell me, Changbin. Why is no one telling me why he had to take his own life?"

Her voice broke along with her heart as the room fell silent. The radio hushed, mouths shut, and the loud footsteps came to a stop. But her head did not.

Faces upon faces of pity, empathy, and confusion had stared at her. She didn't want any of that. She wanted an answer. A clear answer. She paid no heed to the pool of tears that had found themselves continuously streaming down her cheeks.

"Tell me. Why did I not ask if he really was okay and didn't know that his 'yes' was the last thing I was gonna hear from him. Tell me. Why did we not notice how much he was hiding himself behind his fake smiles.

"Tell me. Why are we so happy without him?"

She didn't hate Seungmin, or Minho, or Chan. Nor any of the other members and bands for celebrating. Nor any of this. She hated herself. Her ignorance. Her blind eye towards what he had actually been feeling. Her guilt.

It was guilt.

She should have listened. Not at the loud strums of his guitar. But at the silent screams of his heart. She should have.

if you know anyone struggling with d-pression, anxiety, or just need someone to talk to, please PLEASE reach out to them because they're not alone in this fight. you're not alone in this fight. we're not alone in this fight.

#skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz angst #skz han #skz jisung #han jisung x y/n #han jisung x you #han jisung angst #han jisung x reader #han jisung #stray kids angst #band au #9th member of skz #9th member of stray kids #stray kids 9th member #Spotify

[problematic-weather]

Ointments and Bandages (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

Sherlock Holmes x GN! Reader

summary: after another solved case, it seems sherlock and enola are caught up in a storm— and underestimated the severity of the storm and their injuries. battered and bruised, they stumble upon a small cottage. who would’ve known that it’d be a home to the countryside herbalist? and it seems sherlock finds peace and interest in the pain.

word count: 2.3k+

it’s really just fluff and teasing, and was self-indulgent to get out of a writing slump

warnings: unedited, and i did not watch enola holmes 2 yet ;(( GIF NOT MINE!

Before Sherlock had opened his eyes, a concern that drowned in his mind is that he was nowhere near London. Nor where they were supposed to have gone after concluding the case. The tiniest shift sent a spike of discomfort through him, an aching feeling hard to ignore throughout his body– pulsing the most around his ankle. 

Sherlock had already gone down the list of things possibly wrong; evaluating himself and the damage that had befallen him before he had finally peaked open an eye.

Sunlight was his welcome. An abundance of it, as well as the earthy smell of nature. It was then confirmed, he was definitely not in the streets of London, nor in the confines of his flat. Green was the next color seen, as his eyes adjusted. Plants of all sorts hanging from the roof, and an array of dried leaves and grass hung across the wall. He stared down at himself, inspecting the cuts and burns covered with bandages, a green trail of liquid flowing down one of his arms. Where was he–

“About time you’ve risen, Sherlock.” Enola grinned, walking closer to her brother, a kettle in her hands. “We thought you wouldn’t budge till sundown.” Sherlock’s brow raised as he attempted to sit upright, groaning in the process of his ankle shifting off the chair (as a rest), the wrap loosening as well. 

“I’m sorry,” he inhaled, “‘We?’”

Enola grinned as she settled the kettle down on the table near him, rustling with the fabric dangling around her arms. There, Sherlock noticed the change of clothes his sister was currently wearing. Bigger clothing, looser, and much more available pockets– more than likely deeper as well. The type of clothing that was convenient for someone who dwells in the countryside, rather than the bustling streets of the capital. 

“Yes, ‘we.’ Very generous, they are. Letting us in during the storm and dressing our wounds. You were left down here, due to your inability to walk and symptoms of fever– I was barely able to walk the stairs, though, in much better condition than you were.” Enola smiled widely, “I doubt you remember any of it.” 

Sherlock hadn’t. Fragments of images flashed through his mind: the storm, the solved case, the guilty aristocrat, chasing the aristocrat– fighting the aristocrat, and ending up in the doorway of a house through the horrid storm. Ah, there does it. 

“Now that you’ve awakened, I’ll go and alert the–” 

“No, Enola. We need to leave.” 

That’s when Sherlock noticed the figure. Or, the owner of the cottage. Through the oak-framed window, skin glowing in the sun’s light as fingers gently trailed along the various vegetation through inspection– lost in thought. 

Sherlock continued to watch as they slowly continued to walk towards the window, eyes scanning the different species before finally deciding, pricking the plants before tying and positioning them into the basket properly. 

“Ah!”  Enola called out your name, waving enthusiastically as she gestured towards the kettle. “It’s finished!” 

A laugh was an immediate response, hands dusting themselves against the now-dirtied apron. “I’ll join you in a moment, Enola.” Eyes wandering across the room, finally stopping and lingering on Sherlock. 

“It seems the last guest will also be joining, isn’t he?” Sherlock responded with a simple nod, confused at the pleasant welcome. As you disappeared from view, Sherlock turned to his sister. Before he could question her once again, Enola cut him off. 

“Do be polite, and ask not as many questions as you’d like to partake in.” Sherlock’s mouth opened slightly, eyes gleaming with feigned offense. 

“I beg your pardon. Out of the two of us, are you not the most inquisitive? Jotting notes in a scramble and accusing the–” Enola shushed him loudly, walking over. 

“Alright alright! There’s no need to bring up past efforts. Just don’t bombard.” 

“I certainly will not. But given our situation, a few questions are certainly in order.”

The door adjacent to the fireplace creaked open, revealing you. 

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Holmes. I do hope you haven’t suffered a great deal recovering on that chair.” Sherlock tore his eyes off his sister and provided a small smile to his healer.

“Of course not, I apologize for the inconvenience I might have caused throughout our stay.” A hand raised in the air and dismissed his apology, footsteps groaning against the floor as you drew closer. Scanning his injuries, the smile on their face faltered. 

Turning away, Sherlock watched as your hands and feet moved with familiarity. Straining the golden liquid from the kettle into two cups, pushing them forward to both of the Holmes’ hands. 

“Tumeric and ginger tea. Though, if you’re not a fan, I’ve noticed a few ginger slices dipped in honey would be more than adequate for both of your sakes. Being injured and such.” Sherlock and Enola offered their gratitude, quietly taking a sip each. 

“I must ask,” Sherlock started, lowering his cup first. “Why would you let us in?” 

“I wouldn’t have a clear answer to give you,” you replied, pouring another cup for themselves. “I planned on turning you away, but the guilt would eat at me for refusing shelter for two strangers in the brute of a storm.” 

“And if we were dangerous?” 

“Then, I guess that would be unfortunate on my account. No one ever really is in these parts though, wandering travelers or villagers asking for simple ointments.” Sherlock’s brow raised as he took another sip. 

“A profession in medicine?” 

“On the contrary, I merely dabble in it and such. Your common street doctor in London holds much more qualifications–” 

“And yet,” Enola cut in, “You have reduced the swelling of my brother’s ankle, the burns, and cuts on our bodies, as well as lowered our feverish heads.” 

“I still wouldn’t–” 

“I would have to agree with Enola as well,” Sherlock grinned. “For a herbalist that simply ‘dabbles,’ your skill has reduced our condition a great deal.”

A bright smile tugged on your face, one Sherlock could only describe as infectious. There seemed to be a certain air about you– a mood or comfort that trailed along with your steps. A simple life, but complex within the mind of an individual who welcomes injured strangers, and heals them into full health. A skill to aid with absolutely no knowledge of their patient, but does it with the notion of being good. 

Being better. 

Something that Sherlock had forgotten, being wrapped up in the cases and twisted lives of England. It was almost endearing. 

“You both are too kind for your own good. You both may have to stay the night if you’d like. Before dawn, tomorrow, I can request that you both ride in the back of one of the villager’s carts.”

“That would be gracious of you, but too much, really,” Sherlock rejected, ignoring the look of his sister’s shooting glare. “You’ve already tended to us enough. We’ll be on our way to report back as quickly as we can.” 

“It isn’t a bother, but if you wish. Enola, before you go–” you grinned, staring at the girl in question with a small wink. “Why don’t you go outside and check the sundial? Or try the trick I showed you. I know you–” 

“Absolutely!” Enola agreed, grabbing at the full-sleeves, hiking them up and past her forearms. Scurrying out of the room, a smile crept onto your face. As you turned to face the older Holmes, you noticed he had a small one as well. A tiny upturn on the right side of his face as he stared at the door she had ran out of. 

“She’s a very bright kid, very interested in everything around her.” You complimented, walking around and opening drawers with the needed wraps. “I wonder if she gets it from her older brother.” 

His frown vanished, though the idea had made his mind turn. 

“I certainly hope not. She’s much more free and impatient to know the in’s and out’s of everyone she comes across. I’m afraid that gets her in more trouble than she wants.” 

You hum as a response, placing the materials on the table near him, and pulled up a stool to sit on. 

“I need to redress your wounds,” you offered, hands stopping in front of his forearm, hovering over the old bandages. 

“Of course, thank you, once more.” Unraveling the bandage and discarded it to the side, you reach out and grab a cloth, wiping away the mixture of plants and grim. Adding a new salve to his wound, you slowly bandaged it up and continued to the next. 

A comfortable silence fell onto the two. As you continued from one small injury to the next, careful hands and skillfull analysis to use different mixtures in vials to apply and dress once more. It was until you reached for his ankle, and made slight contact, did you hear a quiet hiss. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. A hand supporting his heel as the other peeled away at the wrapping, showcasing the tiny splotches of soft purple. You scootched your stool closer, resting the ankle on your lap. 

“I’m going to have to touch around the ankle, unless it’s–”

“Do as you must.” 

You nodded slowly, ignoring the flush of embarrassment attempting to flood through. With skilled hands, you slowly move around the different parts of his ankle, rubbing and squeezing gently. 

In doing so, your eyes slowly look up again at him. He seems calm, for the most part– but with eyes staring intently at his ankle, there might’ve been an area you had missed. 

As hands trail upward and circle around the malleolus (yk, the bony ankle joint– the circle-like one, yeah, that one), his breath had hitched. Mouth frowning as he focused more, you had gotten your answer as to where. Now, the question was how bad. 

“I find it inspirational that your sister is such a free personality,” you trailed off. Sherlock’s eyes were torn away from his injury, and you could feel them settling onto you. You slowly continued to feel around the bone, and carried on. 

“It may bring in the possibility of danger, but I believe that comes with the package of expanding your connections and personalities.” 

“Arguably, yes. However, with the occupation we serve, the outcome of meeting a foe rather than a friend can outweigh those ‘personalities.’” 

“Perhaps that’s what makes her feel free. Being passionately curious and unlocking everyone’s own inner workings.” 

“Yes, but in the circumstance of high stakes, a few simple mistakes can threaten her life of her and–” 

At that moment, you squeezed the under part of the joint, and Sherlock winced terribly. Completely thrown off, you hid the thought of cracking a smile. 

“Well then, it seems you have a bruised bone, Mr. Holmes. The tea and ointment helped reduce your inflammation, at least. Nothing a few days of–” 

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock started, glaring at you. “Did you–” 

“Distract you? Yes, and it worked. I heard a rumor that detectives liked argumentative conversation,” you joked. “Clearly, it’s true.” 

Reaching out a simple salve, you smeared a thin layer around the bone– massaging it quickly in the process. 

“Don’t be discouraged, I did enjoy the topic. And I believe mistakes are good to make.” 

“And how so? Or is this another attempt to distract and assault me?” 

“Assault?” A loud laugh coursed through you before you realized, “Rude, but I won’t object. I’d be a fool to reveal my true intentions before you’ve interrogated me.” 

“I just think mistakes help us, sometimes. You’ll accept failure better, you learn, and you counter them in the future as you grow.” You muttered.

Grabbing a fresh bandage, you lifted his leg once more and slowly wrapped it around it. You knew he wasn’t staring at the bandage this time, but you, as you silently tended to him. 

Honesty, you’d look if you knew you could handle it. Truly. 

But a man such as Sherlock Holmes is hard to look at, you came to the conclusion. Especially when you’ve teased him; a man you’ve just met, your first conversation too. There was always the tiniest bit of embarrassment when offering a quote worth of “wisdom.”

“You both seem to be good people, and something tells me if Enola finds trouble… you’ll be there to protect her. As impatient and free as she may be in her youth.”

You finish wrapping his ankle and tie a small knot. With a final look of satisfaction, you clapped twice. 

“That should be everything, I believe. I’d suggest not leaning all your weight just yet, leave it ‘til the weekend. Or until your doctor urges otherwise.” 

But as you raised your head, you realized your words may have fallen on deaf eyes. Sherlock seemed lost in his own world, fingers tapping against the wooden table in a quiet rhythm. As the silence began to be uncomfortable, he spoke: 

“You’re a peculiar puzzle piece.” 

The sudden observation raised interest in you, paired with much confusion. 

“Should I be flattered?

“Do you find it flattering?”

“I would need you to elaborate before I can say for certain.” 

“A false-edge piece, specifically. That is all I will say on the topic.” 

If you weren’t as stumped at Sherlock’s vague explanation, you would’ve caught the small, lopsided smile and huff of amusement. 

The steps of the youngest Holmes burst in suddenly, eyes wide. 

“We have a quarter and four hours until sundown.” 

Enola’s eyes gleamed hopeful, waiting for her brother to respond. 

Sherlock had given you a quick glance, before giving his sister a wide grin. 

“I guess that means we’ll have to stay the night. If, it isn’t a bother,” he quickly adds, as he says your name. “I’ve quite enjoyed our talk, doctor. A night more may better my condition.”

Heat flamed across your face, as you watched his eyes shine with challenge.

“I’d be honored.”

—————————

thanks! hope you enjoyed! <3

#Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #henry sherlock holmes x reader #henry!holmes x reader #henry!sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #henry cavill x reader #Henry!Sherlock #enola holmes #problematic-weather

[rashomonss]

HAPPY 800 DARLING! YOU'RE SO GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO, LOVE YOU /P

For the 800 follower prompts could you pretty pretty please do "don't come back if you walk out that door..!" with Lucibabes. We love our overworked father of 7 (including Diavolo) and we would absolutely love if we even add more to his workload with some angst<3

Aside from that, I do genuinely enjoy your stories and you are absolutely good at what you do.

aww thank you sm anon! I’m so glad you enjoy my work it means a lot!

and omg, lucifer angst is my absolute favorite, you literally have no idea how much fun this was to write (⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)

lastly i wanna apologize for getting this out so late, i’ve been procrastinating a lot with everything lately, but anyway i hope you enjoy! ♡

“it’s too late for that”

Being the Avatar of Pride was a lot to bear for one demon. However you would never, in all of the three realms, hear him admit that fact. Instead you would hear something along the lines of how well he’s doing in his position.

He was doing well at everything and anything, that’s just how he was. But why was he falling short of this feeling when he thought about his relationship with you.

You seemed quiet to him, more so than usual. He did remember that you could possibly be upset due to him canceling plans with you, but he believed you’d get over it by now. So why was he still feeling like this?

As fate would have it he was coming down the stairs just as you had made your way through the front door. Lucifer then smiled and made his way over to you as you took off your shoes.

“Where have you been?” He smiled.

Your face turned to one of surprise upon seeing him. “I was at Purgatory Hall. You know, since you told me you were to busy with work to go out”

You didn’t catch the face Lucifer made as he heard your words. The oldest sighed then continued. “Well I finished early so how about we do something? Does that sound nice?”

You thought for a moment and weighed your options. You did think it would be nice to spend time with him after he was brushing you off for so long, but on the other hand you were tired of only being his partner when it was convenient for him.

“Maybe some other time. I’m tired” you replied, keeping your eyes away from his.

“Is this because I canceled our date the other night? Are you still upset about that?” Lucifer sighed, he was beginning to grow slightly concerned about how personally you were taking things.

“That has to do with part of it, yes.”

“Part? MC, what are you mad about this time?”

This caused you to turn around and face him for the first time since you both started talking “This time? Oh I don’t know Lucifer. Maybe, just maybe I’m upset because you’re only acting like my partner when it is convenient for you. If it’s not on your time then you couldn’t give two shits about me”

“MC I don’t want to have this conversation again. Are you still not over that? We spoke about this once. Was that not enough?”

You stared at him for a minute, trying to process if he actually said that, and after he gave you a look you finally spoke up. “I can’t keep doing this with you Lucifer, no matter how many times we have this conversation you never learn. Frankly it’s annoying and just draining.”

“Annoying and draining you say? Well I for one agree there, I’m tired of that as well. Everytime I try to talk to you, all you do is bring up the past and get upset. Plus you have no room to criticize me when you hang all over other demons.”

Your eyes widened slightly, then your brows furrowed as you took a few steps closer to him. “Excuse me? Hang all over other demons…?”

“MC don’t play dumb with me. I’ve seen the way you hang off Diavolo and Barbatos. As well as that shady sorcerer. Oh should I also mention Simeon as well? I see that you both have been spending a lot more time together recently” Lucifer said smiling.

“Oh is that so? Well maybe if my partner actually gave me attention I wouldn’t be hanging out with others so much? Has that thought ever come to mind?”

“Attention? Is that what this is about? You’re upset because of something as simple as a little attention?” Lucifer asked in a mocking voice, as if he was trying to take you seriously.

“Excuse you? I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you but your not even taking me seriously”

“I never said I wasn’t taking you seriously. It’s just that I don’t see the reason for you to blow this out of proportion is all.”

“Blow this out of proportion?” You replied, giving him a look as if you were asking him if he was serious.

The two of you went from speaking to yelling at each other in a matter of seconds. No later than a minute everyone knew you both were fighting again.

Sighing each brother made their way to the foyer and it was a sight to behold. There you were yelling from the door at Lucifer who continued to roll his eyes as he raised his voice back at you.

Insults were being thrown back and forth and none of them knew if they should intervene until they heard Lucifer yell.

“Don’t come back if you walk out that door…!”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” you spat grabbing the side of the large wooden door.

Lucifer glared at you as his brothers stood behind him in shock, faces going back and forth between the both of you, yet not one said a word. They all knew you both had a rocky relationship but in the end it always worked out after the two of you fought.

So why was this any different?

Maybe it was due to the sinking feeling they each had in the pit of their stomachs as you and Lucifer had been yelling across the foyer. Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t cry.

Or maybe it was the fact that they could tell you were serious.

You had slammed the front doors shut leaving the seven of them in the silent foyer. Lucifer did nothing but glare at the door with his arms crossed as his brothers stood watching the door.

“Ya gotta go after them Lucifer” Mammon yelled, shaking his older brother.

“Lucifer…please go get them” Levi then spoke up.

“You need to apologize,” Beel said, fidgeting with his fingers.

“You need to do more than that. No apology from you would ever fix something like that” Satan spat.

“He’s right, you know.” Belphie then replied as he stood closer to his twin.

“Lucifer please. You have to go after MC.” Asmo said, touching his older brother's arm.

“If you all want to go after MC, be my guest. They however are not allowed to step another foot in this house anymore. Is that clear?” Lucifer spat as he glared at his brothers.

“You know you're so insufferable. It’s no wonder, they got fed up with you and left. They can’t stand to be around your horrible personality anymore. And you know what neither can I.”

Lucifer’s head shot over to the fourth born and he glared his way. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Satan spat then left slamming the front door behind him as well. Not long after Belphie followed along with Asmo and Levi.

Mammon and Beel were the only ones left. They both looked at each other then Lucifer. Beel made his way to the front door along with Mammon who turned to Lucifer before shutting the door.

“Ya know…for the first time I’m actually disappointed in ya, older brother ”

Mammon sighed then shut the door leaving Lucifer alone in the foyer. The Avatar of Pride sighed and took a step toward the door but quickly stopped himself.

He turned on his heel and walked back to his study without a word.

Even now after fighting with you, he wasn’t going to set aside his pride to go out and look for you. No matter how special you are to him, there are always more important matters.

He tried to tell himself that, of course, but the sinking feeling in his stomach consumed his every thought as he made his way closer to his study.

For the first time in his life he was conflicted about his own feelings, towards you and towards his pride.

#rashomonss 800 followers event #rashomonss asks #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me angst #obey me lucifer angst #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphagor #demon brothers