#i’m more proud of this than i should be

[withwritersblock]

Everywhere, Everything

~Everywhere, Everything by Noah Kahan~ Author's Note: this idea has been circulating my mind for weeks, so here you go fam. blah blah blah words italtics are flashbacks Summary: long distance, it's hard lol Warnings: angst, swearing Word Count: 5,221 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

It was usual for her on Friday nights, if Luke was in town, for her to go to his house and spend the weekend with him. That was the plan, she had her duffle bag full to the brim of all of her clothing options and her school work necessities. She walked up the steps to see Ethan and Dylan were sitting on the porch drinking some beers.

“Have you talked to Hughesy yet?” Dylan asked, stopping Y/N in her tracks to spin around to meet his gaze. She shook her head slowly. He nodded while pressing his lips together, “You should-” he trailed off as he brought his drink to his lips again.

She stood still for a few seconds, her duffle bag feeling heavier by the second. Her gaze shifted between the pair of the boys, what were they implying? She took a deep breath as she entered the house. It was empty, but it was usually like that for Friday night. She walked down the hall towards Luke’s room and knocked before she pushed her way inside.

He was throwing random things into a bag when he lifted his gaze, he smiled so wide. “Baby,” he mumbled, dropping the pair of socks he had in his hand into the back. He engulfed her in a hug, savoring the moment. “They called,” he whispered into her ear. 

She felt her chest tighten as she felt her eyes tear up. She pulled away to meet his gaze. His cheeks flushed red as his smile was still wide and bright. His eyes scanned her features. 

“I’m so proud of you, my love,” she whispered, looking deeply into his eyes. He pressed his lips together shyly as he pulled away from her grasp, back towards the bag on the bed. She delicately placed hers on the floor. Clearing her throat, she questioned, “When do you leave?”

“Sunday morning, my flight is at like four in the morning.” he let out while shaking his head, he lifted his gaze towards her. She was nodding slowly, staring at the floor. “I only found out like two hours ago, I wanted to tell you in person,” he mumbled as he took steps towards her once more. 

He took a hold of her arms, scanning her teary features. “We’ll make it work, I will promise you that,” he said, tilting his head to try and maintain eye contact with her. 

She clenched her jaw as she smiled softly. “We’ll have the summer to worry about that,” she whispered as she rested her hand onto his chest. “Let’s just celebrate,” she mumbled.

“Celebrate?” he asked, raising his eyebrows fighting the smirk on his lips. She rolled her eyes playfully as she shoved him backwards slightly. 

“I meant dinner,” she teased before she took a hold of his hand, guiding him out of his room. “And then maybe some of that,” she spun around to meet his gaze, smirking.

“Aw, you’re taking me out to dinner, how sweet,” he teased. She gasped playfully.

“No sir, you’re paying with that big ‘ol NHL contract you’re about to get,” 

~~~

It was Luke’s last morning in Michigan before he was supposed to head to New Jersey for the rest of the season. They were laying in her bed, in her apartment, in silence. Her head rested on his chest as he kept his gaze towards the ceiling. His hand trailed delicately up and down her bare back.

“Are we doing this?” he asked, his voice hoarse. 

It was only a four word question but it held so much value. The entire summer they went back and forth on what would be best. Long distance or breaking up. They’ve been together for almost two years. Two years they didn’t want to throw down the drain because he was moving and living his dream.

But long distance is hard, harder than anyone could suspect when getting involved in a relationship. 

“Yeah,” she let out barely above a whisper as she absentmindedly ran her fingers up and down his chest. “We’re going to be okay,” she mumbled as she lifted her head to meet his eye.

He had a soft smile on his lips as his hand glided up her back, running his fingers through the ends of her hair. “Any time there’s a free weekend and I’m back in Jersey, you tell me and I’ll book your flight. No hesistation,” he mumbled. She nodded.  She leaned towards him, pressing her lips against his delicately. It was soft and intimate.

“Baby,” he mumbled against her lips. She pulled away, her breathing faster than before. She opened her eyes slowly, meeting his gaze. “I-” he started before he took a hold of the back of her neck softly as he pulled her towards him, kissing her urgently. 

Her finger tips grazed his skin, as she delicately took a hold of his chin. “I have to get ready to leave,” he said, pulling away. She kept her eyes shut, before she pecked his lips for a few seconds. She leaned her body away from him, letting him slip away from her. 

She fell onto her back, watching him get dressed before he wandered towards the bathroom. Her eyes shifted towards the ceiling fan, she watched it spin as she felt her eyes tear up. He reappeared after a few seconds, he wandered towards the hat sitting on the end table. He reached towards it.

“Wait,” she mumbled. He met her teary gaze, clenching his jaw. It was a Michigan beanie. It was one of her favorites that he wore. He wore it for the majority of the season last year, swore it was lucky. “Can you leave it?” she let out barely above a whisper. He glanced towards it and back towards her and nodded quickly.

“Of course,” he muttered leaning towards her, kissing her forehead, “I’ll dig into my bag to find a different one,” he smiled softly towards her before he wandered towards the living room. 

She stood up from the bed and began to get dressed in a hoodie and a pair of comfy shorts. He didn’t want her to travel to the airport with him, he was having Dylan drive him. She walked into the living room to see him adjusting the beanie on his head in her circle mirror. She smiled towards him, her heart beating loud and dramatically in her ear. 

He tilted his head to the side as he met her gaze, he felt tears fill his eyes. Suddenly aware of what this means. Her lips fell into a pout as she stepped towards him, he quickly engulfed her in a hug. He took a hold of the back of her head, holding her as close as he possibly could. His watch buzzed, he glanced down to see a text from Dylan.

“Duker’s here,” he mumbled before he pressed his lips to her forehead. She pulled her head away from his chest, scanning his features. He took a hold of her cheeks, rubbing his thumbs against her skin. “I love you,” he mumbled, looking deeply into her eyes. 

“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice cracking. He leaned towards her, kissing her urgently; knowing it’s the last time for months.

He reluctantly pulled away from her, pressing his lips together. He wiped his hand across his eyes, drying the tears. Majority of his stuff was in Jersey already, so he only had his suitcase he packed for the last two weeks in Michigan. He took a hold of it, turning around to look at Y/N. 

She shook her head, “You have to go now,” she mumbled, spinning around to not look at him. He stayed still, “I can’t watch you leave, you-you have to just go,” she said through a sob. He felt his heart shatter, he was going to miss her so much. 

“I love you,” he let out, walking towards the door. He dragged his suitcase behind him, “I’ll call you when I get to Jack’s, show you the apartment,” he explained as he walked towards the door, opening.

“Okay,” she let out.

He looked towards her, taking in a shaky breath before he forced himself out the door. The apartment door shut behind him. He continued down the hallway, letting himself cry. He wasn’t a crier. He rarely cried about anything but right now that’s all he could do. 

It didn’t take long for him to get down and out of the building. Dylan was sitting in his car right in front of the apartment building. Luke opened the trunk of the car and dropped his suitcase inside. He slammed it shut before he walked towards the passenger seat. He fell down into the seat and wiped his eyes once more. 

“Hey man,” Dylan let out as he began driving away from the apartment. 

“Hey, sorry I’m being a-” he trailed off as he shook his head, he wiped his eyes once more while taking a deep breath. 

“Don’t apologize, she’ll be alright. We’ll look out for her. You’ll be alright, you got your brother, and the NHL,” Dylan expressed as he slapped his hand against Luke’s shoulder. Luke nodded as he kept his jaw clenched. 

“Harder than I thought,” he mumbled as he ran his hand across his chin.

Back in Y/N’s apartment, she was sitting on her couch as she watched Friends. Her apartment door was pushed open to reveal her roommate and best friend, Penelope. She dropped her purse onto the counter and quickly moved towards Y/N on the couch. 

Y/N lifted her head to meet Penelope’s gaze. Y/N had been crying, the entire time since Luke left fifteen minutes ago. “I couldn’t look at him, I couldn’t watch him walk away,” she mumbled. Penelope pulled her towards her side, comforting her the best she could. 

“But you guys are still together?” she questioned.

“Yeah but I won’t see him for months, I’m not strong enough for this,” Y/N cried out. 

“Yes, yes you are, you two are meant to be,” Penelope mumbled as she stroked Y/N’s hair. “It’s just for a year and a half right? You took summer courses this summer, got ahead. It’ll be okay, you guys will get through it,” 

~Oct. 12~

She was sitting in front of her vanity, finishing her makeup for her evening out on the town. Penelope, the UMich hockey team, their partners, and herself were all going to one of the local sports bars. Tonight was the opening game of the regular season for the Devils and the Red Wings. 

So they wanted to go watch and support Luke.

It was three hours until game time and Luke was starting to FaceTime her. She perked up excitedly as she set up her phone against the mirror as she accepted the call. He was getting ready in the bathroom, he was shirtless with his hair dripping wet still. Her eyes widened at the sight, he chuckled as he saw the shocked look on her features. 

“Hey, love,” she mumbled as she smiled widely. 

“Where are you going looking all pretty?” he asked as he leaned down towards the camera, trying to get a better look. She smiled shyly as she dropped her gaze towards the mascara in her makeup bag. The second to last step in her routine. 

“A whole bunch of us are going to Scorekeepers to watch your game,” she said excitedly as she began untwisting her mascara to apply it to her eyes. 

“Wait really?” he asked, his cheeks flushed red instantly.

“Yeah, the team is going to be there, they’re bringing their girlfriends and Penelope is coming with me too,” she explained as she began applying her mascara.

He ran a towel over his hair harshly, specifically at that moment so she wouldn’t tell him to stop. “That’s great, I hope you have fun,” he mumbled as he dropped the towel to the floor, he took a hold of some of his hair products as he began to style his damp hair.

“We will, are you nervous?” she questioned dropping the tube into her bag before she reached for her highlighter. She watched him shake his head. “That’s good,” she muttered. 

“My game day looks are going to be rough without you doing my hair for me,” he expressed, a chuckle leaving his throat as he looked towards his phone screen to meet her gaze.

She smiled widely while letting out a giggle, “It looks cute,” she mumbled. He smiled softly as he scanned her features through the phone screen, his chest aching. 

“Can you visit this weekend? I’ve got a game tomorrow but then I just have practices Saturday and Sunday,” he asked, his body erupting in tingles as his breath caught in his throat. 

Her smile faltered slightly, “I’ve got to work this weekend, my love, I need the money.”

He nodded as he clenched his jaw. “Okay, yeah,” he cleared his throat, “We’ll plan for another weekend. We’ll figure it out,” he said, forcing a smile onto his lips. She pouted her lip as she tilted her head back blinking rapidly, “It’s okay, baby, we’ll find a weekend,” he reassured. She nodded. 

It was several hours later and it was halfway through the first period. She sighed as yet another man walked up beside her and began flirting with her. “Let me buy you a drink,” he muttered, raising his hand up to try and get the bartender's attention. He failed.

“No, I’m okay, thank you though,” she muttered as she met his kind gaze. 

“Okay, no problem. I’m Dean,” he introduced himself, offering his hand to her. Y/N scanned his frame, ashamed of the butterflies circluating her stomach. She shook his head.

“Y/N, but I should tell you I have a boyfriend,” she explained, smiling. His smirk fell from his lips for only a moment before he smiled again.

“Cool, is he here with you?” he asked, glancing around the bar for some sign of said boyfriend. His gaze lands on an angry looking Dylan in the corner of the bar. 

“He’s not, no,” she mumbled, bringing the glass of water towards her lips. She took a sip while maintaining eye contact. “We’re long distance,” she explained. He nodded, leaning his body against the bartop. 

“Where does he live?” Dean pressed on, it wasn’t to try and make a move on her. It was more curiosity than anything. 

“Jersey,” she said, glancing back towards the screen to see the power play on the ice. Luke on the ice. Her eyes admired the forty-three on the ice before she looked back towards Dean. 

“Wait,” Dean said, glancing at the TV and then back down towards her. “Is your boyfriend Luke Hughes?” he questioned. She furrowed her eyebrows harshly, as she slowly nodded. “He’s one lucky guy,” he said, scanning her frame once more, biting his bottom lip in the process. He didn’t say anything else before he wandered away from her. 

She found herself smiling, she forced the smile off of her lips as she switched her gaze to the TV screen just as Jack scored. The UMich team erupted in cheers, while everyone else in the bar groaned. 

Dylan stepped in front of her, a scowl on his lips. “What are you doing?” he questioned harshly.

She clenched her jaw as she met Dylan’s gaze, “What?” she asked quietly. 

“What was that? You have a boyfriend, you know,” he accused. Her mouth fell open as she let out a huff of air. 

She clenched her jaw as she felt her skin get hot and her eyes filled with tears. “Luke’s been gone for almost two months,” she began, she paused as she took a shaky breath, “We talk once a day and it’s only to update each other about our lives. I miss my boyfriend and I’m sorry but I miss the attention,” she said, throwing her arms in the air. 

Dylan tilted his head to the side, a sad smile on his lips.

“I miss getting kissed,” she started, a tear falling onto her cheek, “I miss talking about anything other than hockey. I miss being held. I miss being flirted with. I miss my boyfriend. But I can’t see him because I have to work my stupid minimum wage job every weekend because I can’t afford to not work! So excuse me, if I want to enjoy the attention of an unfortunately cute boy!”

“Y/N,” he mumbled.

“I don’t need this,” she mumbled, meeting Dylan’s gaze, “I’m going to watch the rest of the game at home,” she said standing up from her barstool. 

“Y/N don’t, come on, I’m sorry. He’s my best friend-I was just-” he ranted on but she walked away, out of the bar towards her car. 

The game finished with a win and Luke finally looked at his phone once he stepped inside the apartment with Jack behind him. There was one text from Y/N and about fifteen texts from Dylan. 

Duker: Dude! Awesome win

Duker: You played fucking great! Listen though, call me? I gotta tell you something

Duker: damn dude the game ended like an hour ago, call me?!

Duker: HELLO!? HUGHESY??

The messages continued on like that. He furrowed his eyebrows harshly as he pulled his phone to his ear as he called him. “Dukes, what's wrong?” Luke asked, glancing toward Jack before he wandered into his bedroom. 

“Hey man, you played great, so proud and all that. Call your girlfriend more,” he began. Luke's face scrunched together at the sudden statement.

“What?” Luke let out.

“She’s miserable and you only calling her once a fucking day isn’t helping,” Dylan expressed.

“What are you talking about?” Luke questioned as he kicked his shoes off and shoved them towards the side table. 

“She’s lonely and misses you. She’s-you have no right to get pissed at her when I tell you this by the way,” he paused. Luke’s eyes widened as he slowly sat down on his bed, “She’s letting guys flirt with her at bars because you aren’t giving her any attention,” 

He clenched his jaw hard as his fist tightened as he slammed his fist against the mattress. He licked his lips as he tilted his head back. Shutting his eyes he let out a long drawn out breath. 

“She could call me too,” he let out, “If-if she’s-”

“Come on, man, she doesn’t want to be an inconvience to you. You’re living a life none of us understand,” he let out. 

Luke tilted his head back, feeling his eyes fill with tears, “I can’t hear her voice more than once a day because I miss her so fucking much I can’t think about anything else,” 

“Tell her that Hughesy, come on,” Dylan said, a huff of air leaving his lips. “Call her,” Dylan demanded before he hung up the phone. Luke slowly dropped his phone from his ear as he pulled up her contact.

He stared at the profile photo, it was a photo of them after their one year anniversary. He was kissing her cheek as she was smiling widely. He pressed the call button as he pulled it towards his ear, he laid down on his back. He stared towards the ceiling. She answered on the second ring. 

“Hey,” she mumbled, her voice cracking, “Great job tonight, my love,”

He shut his eyes, feeling like a weight collapsed on his chest. “Thank you, beautiful,” he let out, his voice scratchy. It was silent for a few seconds, “I fucking miss you,” he let out, a sob climbing in his throat. 

“This is harder than we thought, huh?” she let out, clearly crying. He swallowed hard as he pressed his lips together.

“Request off the weekend before Halloween, please,” he begged, “I need to see you,” he continued. She swallowed hard as she hummed. 

After a couple minutes, the conversation wasn’t filled with sadness as they chatted about the game. “It’s going to take a while to get used to,” he let out, a chuckle leaving his throat. She hummed breathily. 

He was laying in bed, staring towards the ceiling, biting his bottom lip as he began to remember the last morning of them together. The feeling of her lips on his skin, her breathy moans in his ear. He craved her, he needed her yet she was so far away. 

“Hey,” he let out barely above a whisper, tilting his head back. 

“Yeah?” she let out, a smile forming to her lips. 

“You alone?” he asked. She let out a soft giggle.

~Feb~

The broadcast team announced that Luke would not be returning to the game due to a lower body injury. She was pacing back and forth, Penelope trying to calm her down. It was no use. It was probably precautionary because got off the ice on his own accord but right now all she can think about is that he was out for the remainder of the season. He was going to be in a bad mood all of the time now. 

It was his rookie year, she understood that he was stressed, allowing him to have those days. He needed those days to fully process everything he was going through. The game was slowly coming to an end, a loss for the Devils. It seemed like that was becoming more and more common this season. 

“He’s probably fine,” Penelope offered again, her jaw clenched hard as she spoke. Remaining on the couch, she continued to watch Y/N pace back and forth.

“Please don’t-” she mumbled before her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, it was Luke. She pulled the phone to her ear, “Baby?” she questioned as she wandered towards her bedroom, away from Penelope. 

“Hey, my love, I’m alright.” he began, he took in a sharp breath, “It looked worse than it is,” he explained. He sounded out of breath but he was probably walking back towards his car. He had driven seperate from Jack. 

“Are you sure? You’re walking okay?” she questioned as she ran her hand across her mouth. 

He hummed, “They gave me the option if I wanted to go back but I’d rather take the rest of the period off and rest for the next roadie,” he explained. She tilted her head back, letting out a long drawn out breath, “I promise I’m all good, We’ll watch a movie later, okay?” 

They were starting to do that most nights, use Teleparty to watch movies together and just enjoy each other’s presence. It helps a lot with their relationship. They rarely talk but it helps them. 

“Yeah, yeah, miss your face,” she muttered as she let out a dry chuckle. 

A wide smile formed on his lips as he dropped in his driver seat of his car. He tilted his head back. “God, I miss you,” he mumbled as he clenched his jaw. “When’s your spring break?” he asked as he connected his phone to bluetooth. He buckled his seatbelt.

“March seventeeth to March twenty-fourth,” she mumbled, a small smile on her lips.

While pulling out of his parking spot, “I’ll book your flight, you’re visiting,” he said with a smile as he waited at the red light. She giggled, it was like music to his ears. “And don’t pull the whole, I got to work because I’ll send you your paycheck to make up for it,” he said with a small chuckle. 

“Luke, don’t even think about it,” she said while laughing, she collapsed down onto her bed, staring towards the ceiling. “But that was the plan, of course,” she expressed. 

“Good because the second I get home, I’m booking you a first class flight,” he explained as he continued driving, the smile on his lips never wavering. 

“Okay, my love, call me when you get back home,” she mumbled as she kept her gaze on the ceiling fan. 

“I will, find a movie for us,” he let out as he hung up the phone.

After another thirty minutes, Luke was sprailed out on his bed, shirtless as he propped up his laptop beside him. His hair was wet across his forehead as he took a cold shower once he got home. 

He heard a knock on his door as Jack pushed open the door, “Hey man how’s that-oh,” he let out as he stared towards Luke’s appearance and his laptop, “Am I interrupting anything,” he trailed off. Luke chuckled nervously, squinting his eyes slightly. His cheeks flushed red.

“No, she’s not even on FaceTime yet,” Luke mumbled, chuckling. He rolled onto his back to meet Jack’s gaze. Jack nodded slowly, a smirk forming on his lips. “What do you want?” Luke asked with a smirk on his lips.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood,” Jack crossed his arms over his chest, still smirking. Luke nodded.

“My girlfriend is coming to visit in three weeks for the whole week,” he sing songed, Jack’s mouth fell open as he smacked his hand against Luke’s shoulder.

“That’s great! You need to see her,” Jack mumbled, “How’s that knee?” he crossed his arms over his chest again. Luke shrugged as Y/N began calling him.

“Hurts, but it’s just a strain, it’ll be fine,” he said. He brought his finger to his lips as he answered the phone. He didn’t need her to know that it was a bit worse than he told her. Jack shook his head as he walked out of the room, shutting the door. 

~April 3rd, 2024~

It was the most anticipated game in the hockey world for a few days now. It was late in the third and the Devils were down by a goal. Luke had practically played the entire game, over thirty minutes in ice time. He was exhausted. He was frustrated. All she wanted to do was to give him a hug and cuddle him. 

Luke skates with the puck, sluggish and tired. He was pushing through it the best he could. She covered her mouth with her hands as he wrists a shot towards the net, the game ended a few seconds later. He skates towards the bench with the rest of his teammates behind him. 

Penelope wasn’t there to watch the game with her tonight, which was probably for the best. She had a feeling it would be a while till he called her. She shot up from her couch and began to walk towards her bathroom. 

She walked through the airport, searching for Luke. He was standing beside a girl, forcing a smile on his lips as they took a photo. She thanked him quickly before she quickly walked away from him. Luke dropped his head, laughing nervously.

Y/N continued manuvering through the crowd of people. His eyes widened once he spotted her. It only took a few more steps before she let go of her suitcase and jumped into his arms. 

Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as her cheeks pressed against his cheek. He wrapped his arms around the center of her back. Her eyes shut tightly as she felt her chest tighten. 

“I love you,” she mumbled as ran her fingers through the ends of his hair. It was longer than the last time she saw it. 

“I get you the whole week, how lucky am I?” he muttered into her ear as she slowly slipped down his body. Her hands glided from the back of his neck, towards his cheeks. She rested her hands on his cheek as she scanned his flushed features. He leaned towards her, kissing her urgently, not afraid of any wandering eyes or cameras that could catch the moment.

He needed her to be as close as possible. His hands tightened on her waist, pulling her body towards him, “Come on, Baby girl, we’ve got the apartment to ourselves for a couple hours,” he whispered against her lips.

She finished showering, putting on a tanktop and a pair of shorts as she began to clean up her bedroom. She was wandering around her room, picking up random ideas to organize the place. 

After a few minutes, she received a FaceTime call from Luke. She quickly sat down on her bed, answering the call instantly. She brushed a wet piece of hair away from her face as she stared towards Luke. He was showered as well, laying on his bed. His head was tilted back against the headrest. 

His eyes were evidently scanning her face on his screen. He clenched his jaw as he took in a sharp breath. He shut his eyes hard as he began tearing up. 

“I’m so tired,” he let out, his voice cracking as he spoke. Her lips fell into a pout as she scooted back against the bed. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he let out barely above a whisper. He opened his eyes, as a tear fell onto his cheek.

“Hey, hey, what do you mean?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows. He shook his head as he pressed his lips together.

“I can’t handle the pressure, it’s too much,” he let out, another tear falling onto his cheek. 

“Baby, it was a tough game-”

“It wasn’t just the game though, Can’t open Twitter without seeing everyone hate on me. I can’t do this,” he let out while shaking his head. 

Y/N clenched her jaw as she tilted her head to the side. “Luke, it’s just a bad stretch of games. It’s not just on you, you need to take some weight off your shoulders,” she tried to help him. 

“I can’t do that, I can’t do anything right,” he said, crying, tilting her head to the side as she met his gaze through the phone screen. “I miss you, I just wish you were in Jersey with me. I can’t handle another year of this,” he groaned out.

“I miss you too, my love. Luke, you are stronger than you think. I love you so much, you will get past this, you will find a way out. You are going to be just fine. The season is almost done, you’ll get a lot of rest. And you’ll see me for months straight to the point you’ll get tired of me,” she said with a sad smile forming on her lips. His lips curled upward slightly, a dry chuckle leaving his throat. 

“Not possible, I could never get tired of you,” he said, happy to hear those words, “What if,” he paused as his eyebrows furrowed harshly in thought, “What if I stayed with you for a few days after the season is done?” he asked. Her eyes lit up excitedly.

“What if you stayed until the semester ends?” she asked, a smile on her face.

“Would Penelope be okay with that?” he asked.

“Baby, I think she would rather you be here all the time than hear me cry about missing you another minute,” she said with a wide smile, “And I’m sure the boys would love to see you,” she expressed. 

“Then it’s a plan,” he said with a smile, his tears no longer falling. “I love you so much,”

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes #luke hughes fanfic #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #hockey #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils #nj devils

[svuguru]

toji rewards his stepdaughter for doing well on her math competition.

would do anything for that man to call me a smart girl, i'd fold.

also we need more stapdad toji🥹🥹🥹🥹

Tags: STEPCEST!!!!! ANTIS AND MINORS DO NOTTTT INTERACT PLEASE!!!!! I’m not responsible for the content you do or do not consume!!!!!!! Thanks x

It was the way you excitedly ran up to him with a wide grin plastered on your face, telling him all about how you did so good on your little math competition, that really got his pants tight. Not only that, but oh he’s so proud of his sweet girl for doing so well. What better way to reward her than get her dumb on his cock?

“Such a smart girl, yeah?” Toji grunts, “for so much knowledge in this pretty little head of yours, hm,” he’s thrusting his fat cock into your little cunt as he says this, his voice deep and low as he whispers this in your ear.

“Uh-huh!” You gasp, digging your nails into Toji’s broad, sweaty back to stay somewhat stable. “‘M such a smart girl, daddy,” your eyes roll to the back of your head, his head teasing that soft spot inside of you.

“‘M so proud,” Toji leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, a lazy smile tugging at his scarred lips. “Can’t believe my pretty girl is so smart!” The words he’s speaking has you squeezing him tight, your juices coating his dick. “Worked so hard, didn’t you?”

You mindlessly nod, so dumb on his cock even as he praises you for being so smart. “Mhm, really smart, promise…!” Your stepdad is just so generous… so caring of his little girl, maybe a bit more than he should be.

“I know, I know,” his breath is warm against your skin, his sweat dripping down his forehead. The room is humid and it reeks of sweat but you don’t even acknowledge it, way too stupid on your step daddy’s thick dick.

You can feel him so deep in you, you can feel your release building up and tying knots in your tummy.

“S’deep, daddy… so big!” You whine which only makes Toji laugh breathily.

“Yeah?” He pants, “you can take it, you’re a smart girl,” to Toji, you look so adorable under him, your cheeks flushed and your lashes wet, your lips sore and plump as your jaw goes slack.

“Feels weird, daddy,” you mumble, “think ‘m gonna cum…!” Toji knows you in and out (literally), so he doesn’t put a halt to his hips, only getting a bit more rough, but not too aggressive so as to not hurt his precious smart girl.

“Think so?” Toji plants a kiss to your cheek and exhales. “Cum on daddy’s cock, baby, my clever princess deserves it.” The way he keeps praising you plays a big role in the way you come undone, Toji’s thrusts not stopping or going softer, fucking you through it as stars paint your vision.

A hiccup falls from your lips, tears falling from your lash line though Toji’s big finger wipes them away, occasionally kissing them away too.

“There we go, good girl…” Toji’s eyes pat intense attention to your facial expressions, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your hair a mess and saliva coating your lips. “Did so well for me, sweetheart!” He says proudly. “You think you can do something for daddy? Can daddy finish inside, hmm? Yeah?” So tuckered out, you nod again, murmuring a sweet, “uh-huh,” “Aww, such a sweet girl…”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji smut #toji x reader #fushiguro Toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro x reader smut

[strniohoeee]

Labyrinth

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female reader

Synopsis: A numb and addicted y/n can’t seem to understand why her life suddenly feels different. She’s done nothing but move around in her adult years, so why is it now that she feels she can’t pack up and leave anytime soon?

Warnings⚠️: I haven’t written in over a month, so I’m super rusty this might be shitty! Cigarette smoking and mentions, mentions of addiction, mentions of alcohol. I don’t condone smoking or drinking (underage).🖤

Song for imagine: Cigarettes and Coffee- Otis Redding

Its early in the morning

About a quarter ‘til three

I’m sittin here talking with my baby

Over cigarettes and coffee

I was never one to deal with stress easily which led me to deal with it in the worst ways possible. Drinking, smoking, quitting jobs on the spot and even packing up and leaving places…..I know stupid and risky, but I never had that anchor in my life to tell me everything was going to be okay.

If I felt stressed and useless my things were packed and I was on the road to a new state. I think I was on state number 7 in about a year and a half. Who the fuck in their right mind handles stress this way? That was the million dollar question, and I had the answer…. I wasn’t in my right mind…not in the past, not in the present and undoubtedly not in the future.

After my last breakdown I landed in California precisely in Los Angeles, the city of angels. Where all your dreams and aspirations could come true. It just felt like lost paradise to me, but it’s the longest state I’ve ever stood in. For some reason I couldn’t find the power in me to leave when I got stressed. It was as if I had some unforeseen future here….a future of happiness and hope?

But the stress still gnawed at me. Will I ever have a career, will I ever be truly happy, will my parents be proud of me?How am I going to pay for next month's rent?How am I going to pay for next week's groceries?

It was a constant battle and I never severely suffered because I always found a way, but once all that was taken care of the immediate panic started again about how will I be able to do it all in the following weeks.

I started smoking constantly and it was weird because I wasn’t a smoker but I knew I should drink a little less. I only lit a cigarette when the stress was so bad I refused to drink anymore. Not like smoking was any better ruining my lungs rather than my liver….

But the problem was it went from one to two a day to five and on really bad days even up to eight. It was a bad crutch I simply couldn’t pull away from. They were my training wheels and I was so scared that once I let go I’d crash and burn.

I had an addiction and I had no one around me to slap me out of it. Of course I still spoke to my parents, but I just lied about it. I mean there’s truly no one to blame but myself, however all that regret left my mind once a lighter was in my hand and I took a long drag while the cool night breeze brushed against my skin.

I was lucky enough to have found a job almost instantly. It was a cute little coffee shop that had a small selection of books. It was a peaceful and slow paced job. We only really needed two to three people working. So I’d open at 8am and waited for the next girl to clock in at about 11am.

It was a fun job that paid the bills and my horrendous cigarette addiction. I had found a decent studio apartment nearby. But I was always convinced that this would be snatched from under my feet and I should never get comfortable. As you can expect this led to my extreme stress and anxiety.

I didn’t necessarily have friends here, I mean yes I was cool with my coworkers and boss; but we weren’t friends. It was more of a hi, bye situation. It didn’t bother me much. I was always a loner. I never really found people who got me, so I stayed with the only person who did…me.

On my days off I spent a lot of time walking around flea markets, heading into other cafes and even writing. I’d always hoped that one day I’d be a writer. My mind was always running and I figured someone out there might actually relate to and enjoy the words I’d write on a piece of paper.

Today I was actually working a small shift from 8am to 1pm. I was staring blankly at my reflection in the bathroom. Scruffing my hands and gargling mouthwash. It was 11am and I was coming back from my break.

Spitting the mouthwash into the sink I closed the cap and stuffed the travel size bottle into my purse. Inhaling deeply I looked at myself once again.

“You have got to stop smoking” I replied in a mumble

Slipping my hand blindly into my purse I pulled out my perfume; spritzing myself before shutting the light and heading into the break room to place my purse back.

Slipping my apron on my coworker walked in, clocking in the back as she offered me a smile

“Good morning Y/N” she said as she walked towards me to place her things down

“Good morning K” I stated as I offered a smile back and began to make my way to clock back in

I wasn’t sure why her name was K, it was all over her employee paperwork. She was here before me, so I felt I had no right to ask her for her real name. But it was interesting for someone to just drop the rest of their name and solely go by a singular letter.

After punching back in I walked to the front, not a surprise it was dead. The only people lingering around were the 8am-9am crew. Sighing deeply I decided to clean up a bit.

It was about 12pm now and I was watching the clock anxiously waiting to clock out and run free. Usually I worked 8-4 and sometimes even 8-6. I had a whole day ahead of me and two days off might I add. I felt pretty invincible

Drinking from my water cup the door chimed signaling a customer. Placing the cup down I began to turn around.

“Hi welcome to Mugs” I stated as I turned around

Immediately I was intrigued. I have never seen someone as interesting before. I mean it is LA, so I have seen some interesting stuff; but no he looked different…. And for some reason I couldn’t really look away

Placing his vision glasses on top of his head he squinted his eyes to read the menu. My eyebrow raising.

“You know glasses are meant for you to see things” I said logging into the register as I looked up at him

“I’m sorry?” He said looking at me

“You um…. You put your glasses on your head and then squinted to read” I said pointing above me at the board

“Oh… well these are just blue light glasses. I genuinely can’t really see” he said in an awkward way

“Ohhh well uhh want me to read the menu to you?” I asked laughing a bit

“Oh no it’s fine, I’m not really a coffee drinker” he stated looking at our pastry display

“You do realize you’re in a Coffee shop?” I said jokingly

His both opened a bit and then he squinted his eyes

“I am now seeing how ridiculous I look” he said chuckling and shaking his head

“No judgment here” I said sticking my hands up in defense

“I won’t waste your time any more! Can I have a chocolate chip cookie and that bottle of Pepsi” he said pointing behind me at the small fridge

“One Pepsi and one cookie, coming right up” I said checking him out on the screen

Grabbing the cookie and bottle of soda I placed it on the counter and slid it towards him.

“You can tap or insert your card whenever you’re ready” I stated clicking some buttons on my screen

“I’m uhh actually paying cash” he said fishing in his wallet

“Woahhh cash in this century?” I said giggling and fixing the system

“Yeahh I carry a little bit of cash and little bit of card” he said shrugging his shoulders

“A little bit of card….hmm…that’s funny” I said giggling a bit at him

“Well you know what I mean” he says playfully rolling his eyes

“I’m just messing with you” I said shaking my head

Smiling he handed the cash over and grabbed his items

“Keep the change” he said waving with his hand and nodding his head

Walking out the door I couldn’t seem to understand why I had a stupid smile on my face. Putting the cash in the till and placing the change in our tip jar.

Turning around I was met with my two coworkers staring at me with a smirk on their face. I’d never been the spotlight of attention and I’ve never gotten anything other than a good morning from either of them. So my face dropped and I got self conscious

“What?” I said a bit scared as I straightened my posture

“He was totally into you” K stated as she placed the rack of cookies down

“Was not! We were just making friendly conversations” I said opening the pastry shelf and putting some cookies in

“No no I agree with K we’ve had a lot of guys come in here, but this is the first time I’ve seen a guy like utter more than two words to you and he was totally geeking out” Delilah stated

“Totally! That kid was blushing like crazyyy” K stated as she grabbed the now empty tray and began to walk back towards the kitchen

“Guys come on! It was just friendly banter” I said shutting the pastry door

“Delilah knows her shit too, that’s how Danny and I got together” K stated from the kitchen

“Shut up! No way” I said rolling my eyes

“Sure did! As soon as we had an interaction K told me he’d be back for my number, and that was three years ago” K replied

“You just got lucky this was nothing but mere coincidence” I replied back to them

“You’ll see girl” Delilah stated as she began to make herself a coffee

Playfully rolling my eyes I checked the clock, I had about 10 minutes till my shift was over. I decided to make myself a drink.

As I made my iced latte I began to wonder. I didn’t really have many interactions with guys, but I think I’d know if someone was flirting with me.

It just felt like a friendly banter with an awkwardly shy….nerdy guy. Laughing to myself I finished making my drink.

“Alright girls I’m going to clock out now” I stated as I walked to the back

Punching out and grabbing my things I slid my apron off and grabbed my drink. Heading towards the front of the cafe

I waved bye to the girls as I took a sip.

“Have a good day girls” I said as I walked out

I had the whole day ahead of me and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do. My job was near a pier where I could always sit down and watch people.

Before heading to the pier I decided to stop for some food. Heading into a small restaurant I sat down. Taking my book out of my purse I began to write. I hadn’t written in two weeks and it felt wrong.

Ghosting my hand over the paper, my mind just kept going blank. I couldn’t form a proper sentence and my mind began to race again. Thinking back on that boy I began to think about my love life.

Honestly I didn’t really have one, I was more of a hopeless romantic. Often watching rom coms and rolling my eyes at how unrealistic that love was. I’m sure it was tangible, but I was just a sour puss.

I longed for a relationship like that to always know you’ll have someone there for you loving you unconditionally. To be with someone through sickness and in health. I was only 22, but it seemed to me that everyone around me already had that amazing soulmate. I was very clearly late to the game and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever find someone to love. I wasn’t even sure I was lovable myself.

Then again I never put myself out there, but times have changed. It's not that easy. Guys have become so shitty and all they care about it sex. But it’s like what about getting to know the person deep down.

Not once has a guy ever asked me my dreams and aspirations, where do I see myself in five years? What are my biggest goals in life? What’s my biggest fear….. I lost all hope for love by the time I was 18.

Reading romantic stories and watching these shows and movies definitely added salt to the wound.

I hadn’t realized how much I was writing till my hand began to cramp. Looking up I realized it was no longer daytime.

“Shit” I muttered under my breath

Slamming my book shut I paid my bill and began to gather my things. Walking out of the restaurant I stepped out onto the golden street. It was about 5:45 and I really couldn’t understand how that much time had passed.

I think that’s why I enjoy writing the most, I’m so far gone in my own world it’s like I’m frozen and the world around me continues to move.

Walking towards the pier it was surprisingly empty at this time. Breathing in the salty air I sat down on a bench. Watching the ocean I let the breeze blow through my hair.

Digging in my purse I pulled out my pack of American Spirits. Sighing deeply I pulled a cigarette out. As soon as I grabbed my lighter all the regret washed away from me.

Placing the white object in between my lips I flicked the lighter a few times before a glowing flame appeared before me. Guarding the flame from the wind I brought it closer.

Inhaling as I lit the cigarette all my worries washed away. This was only my second cigarette of the day and I somehow felt accomplished.

Kicking the gravel underneath me I took a long drag, exhaling I got up. Walking over to the edge of the pier I decided to sit down allowing my legs to hang off the edge.

I wasn’t 100% sure I could do this, but it’s worth a shot I thought to myself. Leaning my chin in the railing I took another drag as I stared into the sunset.

Life was so beautiful and I wasn’t sure why I was so sad and numb all the time. I took a lot for granted and I hated it.

I really needed to stop smoking.

“You know those things will kill you” I heard from behind me

My brows began to furrow as I took a drag

“I’m sorry?” I said annoyed as I looked behind me, blowing the smoke out through my nose as my face dropped

“You shouldn’t smoke” he said again with a cheeky smile on his face

Meeting eyes with the same guy from the cafe made my heart skip a beat and my throat go dry.

“Squinting your eyes is also bad for you” I said putting the cigarette out

“Won’t kill me though” he said shrugging his shoulders

“You never know” I said shrugging my shoulders and standing up

His eyes followed me as I got up and it was only then did I feel super self conscious about this whole situation. My embarrassment turned a bit into anger.

“Anyways you drink Pepsi, so that for sure will kill you” I said as I dusted my pants off

“Guess we’ll both be dead then” he replied

“Wow you’re super blunt” I said scoffing

“Sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to come off rude. I was just playfully teasing” he said looking nervous

Looking at him for a split second and I sniffed and then rolled my eyes

“It’s fine. It’s a bad habit anyways” I replied shrugging my shoulders

“We all have bad habits we’re not proud of” he said in a whisper

“Are you uhh following me?” I asked him cocking an eyebrow

“What? No oh my god no! I was just walking and I thought you looked super familiar” he replied putting his hands out in defense

“I’m just teasing you” I said giggling

“I’m Matt” he replied placing his hand out for me to shake

“I’m Y/N” I stated as I shook his hand

“It’s nice to formally meet you” he said awkwardly

“Yeah” I replied awkwardly

“I’ll uh… ill let you go on about your business. Maybe I’ll see you around” He said

“Well you know where to find me” I said smiling at him

Opening my bag I was digging around for my phone before successfully pulling it out.

“Right, we’ll have a good evening” he said and waved shyly

“I’ll see you round Matt” I replied

Going our separate ways I looked down at my phone, 6:55pm…. Sighing, I walked back to my car close to the cafe and drove home.

Shuffling up the stairs I pushed my apartment door open after unlocking it. Making note that I must call the maintenance guy because that door needs some WD40 badly.

Locking the door I turned my lights on. Today just felt strange like I couldn’t put my finger in exactly what the fuck was going on.

Walking over to my patio I opened the sliding door and stepped out. Taking in the evening breeze my mind just went blank.

Stepping back inside I grabbed my purse, grabbing my lighter I shuffled my hand around my purse to feel for my pack of cigarettes. But my brows furrowed when I didn’t feel the square container.

Walking over towards the light I opened my bag more and looked inside. An annoyed feeling washed over me as I couldn’t find the box. I mean honestly good because I did not need anymore.

Still searching as if the box was going to magically appear. I groaned soon realizing I must’ve left them on the bench and they are for a fact long gone by now.

Throwing my lighter back into my purse I groaned and sat on my couch. The one time I desperately need a cigarette I fucking left it on the pier.

I cut that night short with a 80s movie marathon and left over pizza as a midnight snack.

remembering that tomorrow I had to stop into the cafe to pick up my paycheck. We’re living in a very digital world right now and my job still does paper checks….

Groaning at that I decided to call it a night….

The End

Okayyy IVE BEEN GONE FOR SOOO FUCKING LONG. And I’m sooo sorry it’s just life has been so crazy since March! However this was the end of part 1….stay tuned for more🥺🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo imagines #matthew sturniolo x reader #Spotify

[mariamastermind]

No one hates Joe, not even Taylor, she hates the fact that her forever started to crumble to the point of no bouncing back. Both of them struggle with mental health, like a lot of people I’m sure, but just saying his “bluest days” doesn’t mean she’s talking about his mental health, it could literally just mean he had a bad day and took it out on her, or she tried to help him and he wouldn’t let her. And the album is actually barely about him. Taylor says in “In Summation” that she writes the “worst men the best”, I’d say a lot of The Anthology tracks are about him as well as like 1 (So Long, London) on the standard album.

He’s not one of the worst men, he’s the one that got away. I don’t think it’s fair for Swifties to hate on Joe, and it’s not fair for Swifties and non-swifties (who for some reason listened to the album?) to hate Taylor for being vulnerable. Joe can make a statement if he wants, and that’s fine by me.

The more I look at the lyrics of So Long, London, the more I feel bad for both of them. Joe wasn’t sure how to deal with whatever was going on in his own life and Taylor going out, doing promotions for Red TV; Taylor on the other hand didn’t know what to do because she felt him slipping and she couldn’t help him like he did for her because he pushed her away, intentionally or not we’ll never know. She says that she stopped trying to make him laugh and stopped trying to drill the safe (“the safe” being him and her trying to get him to talk to her about whatever he was going through and he resisted to let her). It hurt them both. At some point they both just came to the agreement of that this just wasn’t going to work out anymore. They were there for each other through their darkest days (or bluest days) but ultimately things just aren’t meant to be even if Taylor thought it was. It’s just cruel to pick a side when there’s so much no one considered. So no, I can’t back up the people who say she’s “wrong” for writing about his “bluest days” in one line about how she felt about their relationship. And I can’t back up the people who say “she got mad at him for being depressed and not wanting to get married so she could have her perfect wedding” because that’s not what she’s saying at all; I’m sure they’d talked about marriage and at the time it felt right, but their lives were changing and they didn’t want to hurt the other person or themselves even more than they had already. And you know what, I actually think he’s genuinely proud of her for being this vulnerable and putting on a smile every week and singing “Lover” and trying not to cry, and I think he’s genuinely happy that she’s genuinely happy with Travis, and I think he was think “wtf Taylor” when people found out about her and Matty Healy, and I think he was genuinely relieved when he saw things between them ended.

I just think that no matter what happened between them, they still wish each other the best. I think he genuinely thinks she deserves the happiness she’s felt in the past year after getting through a whole lot of shit.

(And to all the people saying Taylor “sent” her fans out to threaten Joe and his friends and costars, A) she would never do that no matter how she may feel about a person and B) fake fans do that, not real ones. Maybe you should start learning the difference since you can’t shut up about her or us.)

#taylor swift #swifties #1989 taylor's version #party like it’s 1989 #speak now taylor’s version #long live taylor’s version #red taylor’s version #evermore #fearless taylor’s version #ttpd #ttpd lyrics #ttpd track list #ts ttpd #ttpd era #the tortured poets #the tortured poets department #so long london #joe alwyn

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile V

<- Previous Chapter

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: I think I wrote more for this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter dear readers. Let me know what you think about it.

“ You look.. dishearten, my friend”

You sighed as you looked at your friend: Alice. She was one of the first female friends you made 6 years ago at school. She was one of the sweetest girls you have ever met. She had long blonde locks with beautiful sapphire eyes, her voice sounded like a siren’s song. You were proud to be her friend, almost all of the boys who laid their eyes upon her were almost falling to their knees ready to propose to her. 

“ I have no idea what to do for Alastor’s birthday.” you sighed “ no idea of a present.”

Alice clapped in her hand with a big grin and you couldn’t help but scoff at her radiance. She always loved when you were talking about yours and Alastor’s relationship. You didn’t really know why but she wanted to meet him.  Well… yes, you knew why. Alastor was … He was…

“ How old is he ?” she asked you as she drank her cup of tea.

“ Well, he is going to turn seventeen. So I want to make him something special.” you sighed once again as you laid your cup of hot chocolate on the table. 

“ How long have you known each other ? “

“ Almost eight years.” you smiled fondly. Eight years. You’ve been friends with Alastor for eight years and you have loved every single year. You looked into your cup of hot chocolate, the colour reminded you of Alastor’s eyes. Alastor wasn’t a little boy anymore, he had become taller. Taller than you, his frame was more muscular thanks to his hunting trip, he had become more teasing, sneakier, and cunnier but the biggest problem was… He had become so handsome. He lost his chubby cheeks, now his jaw was sharp, his eyes were even more intense than before when he was interested in something, he was–

“ Should I let you alone with your chocolate~?” you jerked your head toward Alice who had a teasing smile on her lips. You chuckled while shaking your head, blushing a little. You daydreamed again ! “ Why do you not want me to meet him, I really want to meet your beau, you know? I have never seen you like this, never did someone make you react like this.”

“ Listen… He is.. an important childhood friend and he can be … intense sometimes. I don’t think you could handle him.” you said as you sipped your drink. You didn’t feel comfortable making Alastor and Alice meet. You knew that Alastor could be an ass sometimes and Alice was too sweet to … understand it ? “ But back to the topic, what should I give him for his birthday …”

“ From what you told me, he seems to really care about you, and with this war going on, I’m sure he’d rather you kept your money.” she smiled at you as you bit your lips. That was the problem. Alastor was going to be 17 years, next year he would turn 18. That means he … would be taken to war right? You felt yourself getting paler as many scenarios went inside your head. 

The only good news was that his father had been dragged to war, unfortunately just like yours, meaning that Alastor and Marie were finally alone in their house.  After the hunting’s trip’s accident eight years ago, you’ve never trusted his father again. Many times you went to Marie’s house and each time her husband was home you could feel the tension lingering in the air. When he was here, you and Alastor would go outside, play with Husker, play tag or hide and seek. 

Alastor never really talked about his father, but you could sense that he hated him. But you didn’t know why and one day, you tried to push on the subject, you wanted to help him in any way possible. 

This was the first time Alastor had raised his voice at you. 

“ Are you okay?” you lifted your head toward your friend. “ He won’t go to war, from what the paper says, it seems like it’s going to end soon!” she smiled at you as she took your hand in hers. You sighed, praying that you would never have to send Alastor to war. Alastor has tried to reassure you by saying that if he were to go to war, he would be an amazing soldier.

War is like a big hunt.

“ Yes, yes… I think I’m going to go home. I need to finish some homework and I don’t want to leave my mother alone.”

“ Did Delilah steal your work again?”

“ I think, but who cares, I’ll just do it again… Well, your beautifulness, might I walk you home?” you bowed as she laughed and you began to walk toward the richest quartier of New Orleans. You gossiped with Alice about what happened during this school’s week. She was so sure John was interested in pursuing a relationship with you. You rolled your eyes at her, she always liked love’s story. 

You did too, you weren’t going to lie, but when you thought about your future with a husband… You thought about–

“ Well, here we are! Are you sure you don’t want to stay here, I made cupcakes this morning!” she exclaimed with a big grin. You smiled at her, saying you really needed to go home. 

You waved her goodbye and walked home. You tried to make your way home quickly, if you were lucky, a letter from your father would be waiting for you at home. You had prayed each day that once the stupid war was over, he would come back alive. You opened your house’s door and went inside, hurrying toward the living room.  Did your father sended you a letter ?

“ Look who’s here~”

You turned around with a big smile, feeling your heart thumb loudly in your chest. How could he make you react like this everytime?

“ Alastor !” You hugged him before kissing him on both cheeks. Alastor had stopped flinching when you were touching him, even more surprising , he was very clingy with you. Always being in your personal space like he owned it. 

“ Seems like someone drank hot chocolate but didn't bother wiping her mouth.” he wiped your bottom lips with his gloved hand. You flushed as he stared at your mouth, keeping his finger on your lips. You could see your own reflection in his glasses. Unlike before, you couldn’t read Alastor as easily as when he was a child, unless you were alone together and mister decided to be “vulnerable” with you.  But you… You always felt safe and most of all, you felt seen.

Alastor always had a glint in his eyes when he was looking at you. You’ve never seen him look at something or someone else like this… And you liked it. Was it selfish to crave his attention… maybe not. You both were friends, special friends, childhood friends… But, Oh Lord, sometimes you craved more, but you didn’t know what. If Alastor was looking at you like this as a friend, how would he look at his future wife? 

“ Oh my dear, you look starving.”

You gasped as you took a step back while Alastor was smirking at you, his arms folded behind his back. You stuck your tongue to him, like you used to, you were maybe a young lady now, but with Alastor you were… yourself.

“ Young lady ! Didn’t I tell you to stop sticking your tongue ! I’m sorry, Alastor.” said your Mother while Marie, who was just behind her, was laughing behind her hand. “ Good Lord, when you both are together you are back to being children, God preserve me.” she sighed as she went into the kitchen.

“ Yes, listen to your Mother. Keep your tongue inside your pretty mouth.” teased Alastor as he sat on the sofa with his usual mocking smile. “ Now my dear, do you have news to share with me?”

You sat on the other side of the sofa and began to gossip as you usually did. There weren’t any microphones or notes like when you were children, but it was the same as your broadcast like you used to do in his bedroom. Just you and Alastor, gossiping about your daily life.

“ And then Alice said that John was interested in me but I think he just–”

“ Should I be alarmed ? It’s not the first time I heard this name ?” teased Alastor as he took off his glasses to clean them with a tissue from his chest pocket.

“ Which one? Alice? She wants to meet you…” you mumbled and tensed when you saw Alastor’s smile.

“ Well, why didn't you say so! I would be delighted to meet the darling that blesses my sweet little friend with her presence when I’m not here!” he exclaimed as he stood up. You jumped off the sofa as you forced him to sit back down. 

“ No Alastor !”

“ Oh come on my dear, do you want to keep me all to yourself ? How bold.” he smiled as he watched you struggle to keep him sitting. You groaned and decided to just sit on his lap to keep him from standing up. So there you were on your knees on each side of his thighs. You heard him inhale deeply, his hand gripping the sofa. Don’t blushed, don’t blushed, don’t blushed…

“ How bold, indeed, dear…” he stared at you, without his glasses. There it was. That glint. The one who made you… Feeling strange. You didn’t know if you were scared or…or what? There was something lingering in the air... He opened his mouth but you cut him off.

“ What do you want for your birthday ?”

His body tensed for a second, staring straight at you before he relaxed himself and laughed, tilting his head backward. He shook his head as he rolled his eyes.

“ Well, just like always. Celebrating with you and Mother. What could I ask for more?” he smiled at you but as you tried to stand up from his thighs, he grabbed your waist and pulled you near his face. “ Should we invite John?”

“ Who–? Wait, John? Why?” you frowned as you looked at his smile which seemed tense. He was grabbing your waist tighter now. His grip should hurt you but.. it was oddly comfortable. Why did he suddenly change–?

“ Wait… Are you jealous?” you smiled as you saw his smile twitched. “ Yes, yes, you are. Haha !” you laughed hoping you sounded mocking, but even to your ears, you almost sounded pleased, relieved. You squeaked as he pinned you to the sofa and began to tickle you. You squirmed as your laughter was getting louder and louder, gasping for air.

“ Do you remember the rules, dear?” he asked with a cunning smile, knowing perfectly that you couldn’t answer right now. “ Rule number one:  Never drop your guard.” he stopped tickling you “ Go on dear. Rule number two?” he tilted his head toward you, staring at your red and teary face.

“ You are the strongest here.” you gasped as you tried to wipe your tears that threatened to stream down your face but Alastor holded both of your wrist in one hand.

“ Rule number three.” 

“ I give up…” you breathed as you closed your eyes. You felt his head next to yours, his lips almost touching your ears. 

“ Give up yourself to me.”

Your eyes opened suddenly, feeling your body being hot. You looked at Alastor who was above you but he seemed confused. He tilted his head as he watched your expression.

“ Are you okay, you look almost as red as Eamon ?” he laughed at you as he stood up, putting his glasses back on.

“ What did you just say?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper.

“... You look almost as red as Eamon?” you shook your head as you sat up and stared at him. He seemed really confused, did you imagine this? Is it what you wanted to hear? You groaned as you hid your face in your head, it was because of Alice’s stories, your mind was playing tricks on you now! “ By the way dear, it seems like you have a letter.” he said as he held a letter to you. It was from your father ! 

You took the letter from his hand with a happy grin, the letter was already open, surely your mother, and read what your father wanted you to know. He was okay, he missed you but mostly there were rumors about how the war will be soon over. you sighed in relief. Your father would come home. You just knew it. You looked at Alastor who was observing your face.

“ You still have no news from your father?”

“ No, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been killed for insubordination.” he said with detachment as he looked at his nails. You nodded before turning your head toward the entrance where you heard a knock. You stood up and went to open the door and froze.

“ Alice ?”

“ I’ll be quick, you forgot your bag at the coffee shop.” she smiled as she held your bag toward you. 

“ How… But… You went back to the coffee shop?”

“No, no, a gentleman came to my door and asked if the bag was mine.”

“ Alice… A man came to your door with my bag and you are not worried ? How did he know where you lived ? Does that mean he followed us?” you forced her to enter your house, looking outside “ What does he look like?” You squealed as you were jerked inside the house by your dress. You turned to see Alastor who was staring at you, with a pissed expression, his smile still present.

“ Are you dumb? If there is a man who is following you, why would you show your face, confirming that you are living here.” he asked you coldly. You closed the door quickly. 

“ The man isn’t here for me, if he is here. He didn’t follow me, he followed her.” you pointed to Alice. “ You can understand that, I mean, look at her.” 

You watched as Alastor looked at Alice. You couldn’t see his face but you saw Alice’s who seemed to try to make herself even smaller than she was. He shook her hand with his usual charming smile you guessed.

“ Quite a pleasure to be meeting you, I’ve heard a lot of you. You seemed like a clever woman, I would have never guessed that you would walk down the street with a soon to be stalker at your feet, bringing this man to my dear friend’s door!” 

“ N-nice to be meeting you, sir. I’m.. I’m sorry..?” Alice stared at you, begging you with her eyes to do something. You sighed, you have told her Alastor was intense.

“ No, no, No need to be sorry. It is not your fault, but the gentleman’s one. You both shouldn’t stay outside alone.”

“ Alastor, maybe we are overthinking. Maybe he was a nice gentleman–”

“ Oh my friend, hush.” he turned to Alice “ What did he look like?”

You watched as Alice described the man’s appearance. You were dumbfounded. Did Alastor just shush you? You crossed your arms on your chest as you pouted, watching both of your friends talking. They looked good together… You bit your lips. No. Alice wouldn’t be able to stay an entire day with Alastor. You stomped your foot on the floor and you clapped your hand together.

“ Well, dear friends of mine, go into the living room, I'll go with some drinks.”

“ No, no, I won’t bother you any longer. I’m going home.” 

“ I’ll accompany you.Stay here.”

You stared in shock as Alastor went into the kitchen where your mothers were. Did he just say what you thought he said? Alice came closer to you and winked at you.

“ He seems like a good man, keep it up.”

Alastor came back with his jacket on, he opened the door for Alice and left without kissing you goodbye. You stared at the closed door. Did Alastor fall for Alice, like every boy she met? You ran to your room, and jumped on your bed, burying your face in your pillow. Did he really leave, leaving his mother? you threw your pillow on the wall.

“ To hell with him ! I don’t need him.” you said as you wiped the tears that you haven’t even felt falling down your cheeks. You went to the bathroom, ignoring your mother and Marie’s question about your teary eyes. You washed up, put on a nightgown and went into your bed. You stared at the wall before closing your eyes. You couldn’t fall asleep, you were imaginiting Alice and Alastor walking down the road, hands in hands. You felt tears whelming up in your eyes. You didn’t care! You didn’t! 

You didn’t know how long you kept thinking about it but you were still awake when you felt a hand stroking your cheeks. You sighed , nuzzling your cheek against the hand. You guessed your mother was coming to comfort you even though she didn’t know why you were upset.

“ Dear friend, why are you crying?”

You sat up immediately and stared at the person in front of you.

“ Alastor…Why are you here?” you asked as you held the cover against you. You didn’t want him to see you like this. Crying over him. You were too proud. And you weren’t crying for him! 

“ Well, I came to give you your kiss, dummy.” he approached his face toward you, staring at your eyes. “ But why are you crying? Is it because of the man?” his eyes went cold, his smile widened but there was no warmth like usual. He seemed.. menacing. “ Did he come here? Did he touch you? Where?”

 You just stared at him as tears were falling down your cheeks. It seemed like seeing you cry made him more and more upset.

“ This bastard was here? I fucking walked your little friend home so I could see if someone was lingering around here and that bastard had the nerve to come and–”

You didn’t know what came over you, you covered his face with your blanket and you kissed the place where the blanket covered his lips. He froze. You pressed your lips against the tissue and then slowly, stepped back.  You stared at him, his face still covered…

“ No.. I was just… afraid that you would leave me for Alice.” you whispered looking at his frame. Seeing that he didn’t remove the blanket, you understood that… he knew that both of you would not be talking about what is happening right now. “ She is a beautiful lady, and she is interesting, sweet… a perfect lady you would say.”

“ Don’t put words in my mouth dear.” You chuckled as he moved his hand toward your cheek, wiping your tears away. “ So, you thought she was going to take me away from you? How absurd. Nothing could tear me away from you, not even yourself.”

You stopped breathing at this confession, your heart beating even stronger. You didn’t know what to do with all of your feelings. You were just so relieved that Alastor saw your friendship like you did.

“ Can I take off your blanket now?”

You laughed and uncovered his face, his warm smile was back, his glint in his eyes even more present. You looked away, fidgeting with your nightgown. You needed to erase the tension quickly.

“ You look like an absolute mess my dear friend! I’ll let you rest and please, do get your beauty sleep unless you want to crack every mirror you shall see.” he laughed as you tried to hit him with a pillow. He kissed you on the forehead, giggling before leaving your bedroom. “ See you soon, doll~!”

You fell on your bed with a big smile and hid your face into your pillow.

You didn’t know what happened but it made your feel better.

Tag List: lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie

#hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor headcanons #alastor scenarios #alastor scenario #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #fiction #alastor fiction #human alastor #human alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fan fiction

[mikkomacko]

i’m loving the him and i series so much!! and i keep thinking about her first finding out about the devils and what the reaction would be (obviously happy in the end ik) would love maybe a blurb of that or just your thoughts on it :)

“When are you going to tell me what you actually do?”

He’s caught off guard by the question, you can tell by the way he looks up from the sink, his eyes like a deer in headlights when they meet yours through the bathroom mirror.

“What do you mean?” He mumbles around his toothbrush, foam dripping down his fingers.

You shrug, leaning against the doorway. “I know you own The Rock, but there’s no way a bar owner lives like this.” You motion to the elegant bathroom, the mirror with different lighting settings, the claw foot bathtub, the double shower. No one in Jersey just lives like this.

He spits into the sink, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s uh, it’s a popular bar.”

The excuse is lame. You know it, he knows it. Maybe you should be concerned, cautious about him. But you spent a couple months with him now and he’s given you no reason to ever be worried or anxious. Not when you’re with him and not toward him.

“Just…” you hesitate, watching him rinse off his toothbrush and place it in the holder. He won’t meet your eyes, instead busying himself with cleaning up the marble counter. “You don’t do anything illegal right? Like you’re not a drug dealer?”

That makes him stop, immediately turning to look at you with those doe eyes of his. Your heart jumps into your throat, mouth going dry.

“You sell drugs?!”

“No, no, no!” Nico rushes out, waving his hands. “I don’t sell drugs. I don’t take drugs. Do you take drugs?”

Scoffing, you shake your head. “No I don’t do drugs! Do you think I’d be put-off by a potential drug dealer if I did drugs?”

Nico shrugs, raking his hands through his hair. You watch the movement of his arm, the way his chest shifts against the tight wife-beater he’s wearing. A hint of the chain he always has on pokes through, the outline reminding you of the ones you see on all his friends.

“My friends said you’re in a gang,” you tell him.

“What do you think?”

You stand up straight, tilting your head to the side as you examine him. “They’re wrong,” you say matter-of-fact. “A gang leader doesn’t just own a business. They like push drugs on Coney Island and hang out with teenagers.

“You guys are like…like a family.”

Nico bites at his lip, smiling a bit at that. “Do you trust me?”

“Yeah.”

He nods towards his bedroom, and you move to sit on the edge of his bed. Nico follows, sighing heavily as he sinks to kneel in front of you.

“We are a family,” he tells you, taking your hands in his. “Me and Timo and the boys. We’re a family, just in a different way.”

Confused, you shake your head. “I don’t get it.”

Nervous, he licks his lips and lets out a breathy laugh. “We’re a family like in a God Father way, a”

“A mafia?!” You cut-off. “Like Italian mafia?”

“No, no, it’s like the mob. Different than the mafia and not Italian at all. Most of us are Swiss, Jesper you know is Swedish. And locals. American, Canadian, yeah.”

You’re quiet for a moment, head spinning with thoughts. It makes sense, the bar and the money and his apartment. The coded talk between him and his friends, the way they call him boss-

“Wait, you’re the boss?” You ask, “You’re in charge of them all.”

Sheepishly he nods, like he’s worried you’re gonna tell him they impolite or act up. But he’s proud, you can tell by the glimmer in his dark eyes. It’s like that cocky twinkle he usually has but softer, more personal.

“Should I be scared of you?” You whisper, afraid he’ll say yes, that he’ll give you a reason to run.

“Never,” Nico assures instantly. “You never have to be scared of me or the boys. You’re, you mean too much to me. If anything, Jersey should be scared of you.”

“What, why?”

He clears his throat, looking down at your hands as he squeezes them. “Because if anyone so much as said your name in the wrong way, they’ll be dealing with us.”

It sends shivers down your spine, warms your chest. He sounds so certain, so confident in the abilities of himself and the boys. Flattered, you lightly giggle and pry a hand out of his to stroke through his hair.

You find the gold chain on his neck, rest your palm over his chest. “Devils?” You ask, “is that why you all wear the horns?”

Proud and impressed, he nods. “Smart girl,” he murmurs sweetly. “Technically the Devils, but the others call us the Devs.”

“There’s more of you?”

He nods, placing his hand over yours. “Yeah a few. Biggest concerns are our closest guys in New York.”

You’re confused again, not really understanding how this works with different gangs - mob’s around. It makes your head hurt, a sharp pain right behind your left eye.

“I - I think I need to think about this Nico,” you murmur “not tonight. It’s too much tonight. I just needed to know that you’re not a drug dealer.”

He kisses your knuckles, rising to his feet as he nods. “Yeah yeah, whatever you want to know I’ll tell you.”

“Ok.”

“You still staying the night or should I drive you home?”

Scoffing, you shove at him and then flop back into the plush mattress. “Obviously I’m staying. Nothing beats this bed.”

Standing over you, he chuckles. You press your foot into his hip and he wraps those thick fingers around your ankle.

“You’re welcome to leave though.” You tease.

Releasing you, he jumps onto the bed next to you. Snuggling into his pillow, he smiles contently. “I don’t think so little miss, this bed is all mine.”

You crawl up to the pillows, laying on your side to face him. “Well that half is,” You quip back, smiling innocently “boss.”

#him and i #him and i blurb #nico hischier #mob boss nico hischier #mob boss nico blurb #nico hischer x reader #requested

[save-the-villainous-cat]

With all the strength they had left, the hero crawled into the villain’s apartment through the window. After surviving the superhero, this should have been easy but it turned out to be exhausting.

The hero had landed in the bathroom and without wasting another second, they pulled themselves up and searched through the cabinets. Unfortunately, their bloody hands left enough evidence of them breaking in already. They supposed they’d have to face the villain sooner or later, even if that meant the villain was going to throw them out again.

For now, they found something close enough to practical — a razor — and opened the first aid kit the villain usually stored under the cabinet. Before they could take out the blades, the villain opened the door.

“You’re not as quiet as you think.” The hero looked at them and smiled softly. Teeth stained with blood, heavy limbs.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” they said. With no hesitation, the villain helped them up and took the razorblades out of their hands.

“What happened to that pretty face?” they asked. With one hand on the hero’s hip, they reached for a clean towel and turned on the sink. They let the soft fabric drench in warm water and gently cleaned up the hero’s face.

It all happened so fast. The villain didn’t seem to mind that the hero was here in the middle of the night.

And they were close. So close.

Whereas the villain was focused on the hero’s face and getting rid of all that blood, the hero stared into their eyes. Maybe it was this cruel change: brutal violence coming from someone they had adored to gentle tenderness from someone they had loathed.

The villain looked down at them. Their thumb traced the hero’s jawline and the hero looked away, almost ashamed.

“You look like shit,” the villain whispered. “And you woke me up.”

“I’m sorry,” the hero said. They looked at the villain’s clothes — their underwear and a shirt. The hero blushed a little. They took the villain’s hand and reached for the razorblades. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

The hero let go of them with a gaze that lingered a little too long.

“They chipped me,” the hero explained. They cleaned the blade with some rubbing alcohol and took in a deep breath. “Chipped me like a fucking dog.”

They cut into their own forearm, watching as the blood ran down their skin. It burnt even more than the open wounds on the hero’s back. They supposed they just had gotten used to that sort of pain, even if that was impossible.

With the blade, they dug through skin and muscle, clenching their teeth until they found the little tracker. They cursed when they pushed their fingers into the wound to fish it out.

Once they had the bloody device in their hand, they let it fall to the ground and crushed it under their boot.

“I knew trackers are useless at your place. You’ve slipped through my fingers quite a few times that way.”

The villain didn’t say anything. They just stared at the hero who cleaned their arm.

It wasn’t exactly easy to crawl to their nemesis and beg for shelter. The hero was too proud to do that anyway and they had planned to leave after cutting out the microchip.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the hero said.

“You didn’t bother me.” The villain took a step forward and took the hero’s hands. “Are you alright?”

The hero frowned.

“Of course I am. I’m fine. I’m doing great.”

“You’re sure about that?” The villain let their fingers intertwine and suddenly, the hero felt very tired very quickly. “You’ve been so busy these last few days. I barely got to see you. They sent over some other lame heroes.”

The hero chuckled tiredly.

“I mean, why would they think I am satisfied with all the other rabble?” One of their hands glided down the hero’s forearm where they put pressure on the wound. “You always wanted to be a hero. When did that change?”

“I don’t know,” the hero said but the desperation and the hopelessness were already settling in. It didn’t even buy them time to lie to the villain. One way or another they found out anyway and most of the time, they asked the hero questions they already had the answers to.

The hero couldn’t really take it anymore. The pain was too much, their mind was breaking more and more.

“Oh, so many tears on such a pretty face,” the villain said. They pulled the hero closer and wiped their tears away with the back of their hand. “Don’t you know it’s not your fault?”

“They turned against me,” the hero said. Their voice trembled. “All of them. They chipped me, they put a bounty on my head. They’re trying to kill me because I don’t agree with…with all this shit.”

The villain cupped their face. “With what?”

“With all this stupid collateral damage and these dumb advertisements. Most of the time I feel like a mascot, I’m barely saving any people.”

“Oh, darling.” The villain tilted their head. Their presence was comforting in a way the hero hadn’t had experienced before. Whatever they’d done to each other in the past, the hero didn’t care. They were familiar, they were warm. The hero wasn’t going to let anyone take this moment away from them. “And who exactly beat you up like this? Your boss, I assume?”

“…yeah.” They could play pretend. They could pretend the villain was closer, that they were more than acquaintances. Even if it wasn’t real, even if the villain was using them, the hero needed some affection right now. They’d gladly give the heartbreak to their future self.

“My poor hero,” the villain said softly. “Would you let me stitch you up?”

The hero nodded.

“I’ll protect you,” the villain promised. They pulled them close to hug the hero. The hero didn’t understand why they were so gentle, so kind. Most of the time, they insulted each other like children. But the hero needed this. They really did. “They will pay for this.”

#shake baby baby shake bis uns der Himmel auf den Kopf fällt #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #h/c

[luizd3ad]

Game Time | Poly!Bartylus x GN!Reader One shot

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr x GN Reader x Regulus Black

WC: 700

TW: polyamorous relationship, Modern AU, light talks about killing Sims, no use of Y/N, this is just fluff

Author's Note: Honestly I just got this idea bc my sims hyper fixation is coming back. The little bit of French that’s in here I got from google please tell me if it’s wrong.

Summary: Regulus comes home to you and Barty playing the sims.

Someone tell me to stop making theses for ever fic please. I won't listen but someone should still tel me.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Regulus had spent the day with Sirius, just catching up. 

They've been finding it harder to do so since leaving Hogwarts so they try to make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. 

He did enjoy spending time with his brother but right now all he wanted to do was go home to his partners. 

You and Barty were like a breath of fresh air to him after his social battery was drained. Just being in the presence of both of you was enough to make him feel better. 

Regulus finally crossed the threshold to his shared flat. He took his shoes and jacket off at the entrance and put them in their designated places.

But then he noticed the flat was quiet which was rare considering Barty lived there.

“Mon amours? I’m home?”

Regulus called out looking around the flat curiously. 

No one was in the living room. He didn't hear anyone in the kitchen. 

He started walking down the hall that held their shared bedroom and the guest room/ office when he heard them.

“Angel, I love you but you're wrong!”

“Watch it Crouch! Or you'll end up in the basement next..”

Regulus was only slightly taken back when he heard his partner say that to their boyfriend. 

Honestly it wouldn't be the first time he heard them say something like that.

Barty then gasped and started shirking something about ‘Never feeling so betrayed’ which was something Barty would say often. 

Regulus took a deep breath mentally preparing himself and then opened the door to the office, he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at the sight in front of him.

There they were, the loves of his life hunched over the computer playing the muggle game that Remus had shown them.

‘The Sims’ he thinks it was called, but he couldn't quite remember. 

“Barty.. Did you take the ladder out of the pool again?”

Barty then gasped as if the thought was inconceivable. 

“What would make you think such a thing, angel?”

“I mean other than the fact that you've done it before? The sim’s name is Bartemius Crouch and he looks exactly like your father.”

Barty then giggles looking proud of himself. 

“Leave him there he deserves it.”

Barty says with a wide smile.

Regulus chuckles a little louder this time and shakes his head finally catching the attention of his partners.

You and Barty both turn your heads to look at Regulus. 

You send him a big smile and say.

“Hi my love, how's Sirius?”

“Sirius is fine. Now what are you two doing?”

Regulus say still standing in the doorway of the room.

“I'm trying to show our darling boyfriend that there's more to The Sims than killing the people that you wish you could kill in real life.”

“And I'm trying to show our angel that killing people in the game is the most fun you can have.”

“Wait, so you make the characters people you actually know?”

You and Barty look at each other and then look at Regulus with raised eyebrows.

“Obviously.”

Barty says looking at Regulus like it should be common sense.

“Wait so you have a character of me?”

“Of course we do.”

You say then turning back to the computer clicking on the mouse a few times and then waving Regulus over to show him a big house with sims of the three of you.

“Is this supposed to be our house?”

“Yes. Unfortunately we’re not all technically dating on here, since that's not an option.”

You explain while Barty crosses his arms while pouting and saying.

“Which is stupid.” 

Regulus just smiles at Barty and kisses his head. 

“It’s okay ​mon beau because we’re dating in real life.”

Regulus says while running his hand through his boyfriend's hair.

You and Barty spent the rest of the night showing Regulus your favorite parts of the game. 

Regulus found himself having a good time whether it was just because he got to spend time with the two of you or because he actually found the game entertaining he didn't know nor did he care.

He was just content and happy to be there.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

#barty crouch jr #regulus black #bartylus #poly bartylus #bartylus x reader #barty x reader #regulus black x reader #barty crouch jr x reader #regulus x reader #regulus x reader x Barty #the marauders #marauders era #marauders #marauders fanfiction #harry potter #hogwarts #modern au #the sims 4 #the sims #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #peter pettigrew #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #sirius and regulus #regulus and sirius #barty crouch jr x you #regulus black x you #regulus black x reader x Barty crouch jr

[littlemsshoney]

Insatiable Hunger

Hannibal Lecter × patient!reader

Warnings: unhealthy dynamics, obssesive relationship, slight stalking, Hannibal bring emotionally manipulative dunno

(first time writing about hannibal, kinda nervous be aware)

At first you were just another patient, a potential pawn or a future extravagant dinner he would enjoy some Friday night. Another lost and troubled soul that was unfortunate enough to find him.

However his interest grew like a forest fire, a burning insatiable hunger consumed him more and more with each one of your sessions.

There was something about you that caught his eye. The way you talked, the way you carried yourself.

He started taking notes of every little detail of your life and with some research of his own he soon knew every aspect of your life. Where you live, where you work, who your friends are, which cafe you spend your Saturday morning everything in.

He knew that he should feel bad for crossing such a line between a therapist and a patient but he didn’t really. After all, it wasn't that hard. With your social media your life was practically an open book for everyone to read and enjoy and if he didn’t then he was sure someone else did.

Only the thought made him angry. It wasn’t about your safety but more about his hurt ego. He had his eye on you, no one else should change that and he should make it known.

Of course he had always been a fan of traditional courting so don’t be confused when you start bumping into him in the most random places at some point with the excuse of cheering you up even being invited to one of his glamorous dinner parties. All of those situations you tried to avoid and refuse gracefully, not because of being aware of his true intentions but rather because you knew there was a thin line you shouldn’t cross.

So you didn't leave him any other way. He truly wanted to be gentle and kind with you and treat you like the precious, vulnerable creature you were in his mind but you just won’t have it the easy way, will you?

The thought of being patient- one of the tarits he awlways took pride on- now felt like a real torture. He wanted to consume you whole. There was something about you that reflected some part of him, an unknown familiarity of your pain. He wanted to break you down, then pick up your parts and build you up. Then do it all over again.

Your sessions were heavy at least. Raw honesty from your part and emotional manipulation from his all to serve the creation of an intense bond, a codependent relationship.

Your wellbeing and mental health had turned into a chess game and the game was anything but fair. In less than two months your whole well being was hanging from a thread and only he could help you or tear you apart.

One can only imagine the sadistic pleasure he took from your vulnerability and pain. Comfortably he sat at his armchair watching as you fell apart in front of him each week feeling worse and worse. All he had to do was just watch and enjoy, proud of his creation.

In his free time he recalled how beautifully you cried, so broken and desperate for him to fix you but all he wanted was lick your tears and take you in. He imagined you being under him, crying - from pleasure - his name rolling off your tongue over and over again.

Soon he had you feeling as if the whole world had turned against you. You couldn’t even trust your own judgement, you had cut ties with most of your friends -Dr Lecter advised you that none of them were genuine-you had become more and more isolated, you felt like you’re turning paranoid.

And then the final act of his play

“I’m really sorry I didn’t know where else to go” and like clockwork you deliberately walked onto his trap, basically sealing your own fate. All he had to do now is hold his door wide open for you to come in.

And then checkmate. That eventful evening standing on the doorstep of the only person you thought truly cared about you. He let you in and like a wounded bird he took you into his arms with such generosity and kindness in contrast to everyone else in your life. The irony.

“It will all be alright”

You wrap your arms around him, holding onto him for dear life, holding onto the only person that seems to understand you and actually wants to help you. As you cry on his shoulder he rests his chin on your head and gently caresses your hair.

Despite your persistence to resist him you are finally giving in. He kisses the crown of your head and though you know it is wrong you let him. You would let him do anything to keep him and he knows it.

Frozen in place you close your eyes as he kisses your forehead, then your eyes and cheek. You know what comes next yet you do not pull away, you don't resist what’s inevitable. A second passes and he doesn’t move, you open your eyes to see him staring at your lips. Now you know you want it, you feel his hunger as your own and you’re starving for it.

Grabbing him by his expensive tie you kiss him, not gently as he did but with desperation and need to be seen and understood.

Pleased he lets you have control just this once for the rest of your time together. He knew you would soon come to realise it’s only him you ever needed.

#hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal x reader #hannibal #yandare hannibal #mads mikkelsen #hannibal imagine

[citadelofmythoughts]

What’re your favorite quotes of RWBY?

"Yeah, I'm scared. But I'm still standing here!" - Yang V5Ch14

"My losses, my failures. Those more than anything are what have shaped me into who I am, showed me how I need to grow. If there’s something I’m missing, it’s not because I lost it. It’s because I haven’t found it yet. And the only way to do that is to keep going." - Yang V9Ch4

"I don't have a choice. I have people who actually care about me, and I promised I'd never leave them again. So I'm not dying now." - Blake V6 Ch12

"A simple life wouldn’t be my life! My family, my friends, my culture. I belong to them, just as much as they belong to me. To give that all away wouldn’t be simplicity, it would be betrayal." - Blake V9Ch4

"We've been in bad situations before, and we don't need an adult to come save us or tell us what to do. We just did it our way! And I say we do it our way." - Ruby V6Ch9

"It's all so heavy. It's the only thing I can feel anymore, and it never ever goes away. The feeling of not being enough." - Ruby V9Ch9

"What happens if I chose me?" - Ruby V9Ch10

"I don’t know who you think you are, but let me tell you who I am: I am the granddaughter of a hero and a child of a villain. I am a citizen of a fallen Kingdom and an heir to nothing. I will not be defined by my name because I will be the one to define it!" - Weiss V9Ch4

"Fear itself isn’t worthy of concern, it is who we become while in its clutches . Will you be proud of that person? Will you forgive them? Will you understand why they felt the need to do the things they did? Will you even recognize them? Or will the person staring back at you be the very thing you should have feared from the start?

I suppose we all find out sooner or later. “ - Ozpin V7Ch13

[chronically-ghosted]

vivarium

rating: explicit 18+ pairing: ezra x f!reader word count: 8K summary: you request a vacation for your birthday. With the rain and a few drinks, you get a lot more than you asked for.  warnings: alcohol drinking, minor age gap (less than 10 years), oral (f!receiving), fingering, smut, possessive!Ezra, dom!Ezra, one booty smack, dirty talk for real, smut, pining, a bit of angst, referenced/implied orphanhood, made a religious sex pun and i'm so proud of myself a/n: so @morallyinept requested this and it turns out when I write for a boy for the first time, it can’t be less than 7K – whoops. i've gotten ezra requests from some moots before, so i hope this lives up to your expectations! **massive thanks to @toomanytookas for editing and providing the initial validation so i don't post in a mouth-frothy haze. I've never had a beta like you before and I genuinely feel like I've turned over a new chapter in my fic writing. thank you!

🤍Masterlist 🤍 Ezra Masterlist

💜come see what else we've done to celebrate 1K followers

Your feet in the clear blue water, the humidity like a wet tongue on your skin, you scratch a nail under the tab of a mustard yellow can, crack it open, and drink. The bite of alcohol dulled by the carbonation, you take several pulls, drawing out the mid-afternoon buzz from two other cans and whetting your mouth in the heat of the jungle day. You lean back on your elbows into the sponge-soft grass, and let out a massive sigh. 

A few feet ahead of you, on a repurposed inflatable reentry tube, your long-time privateer partner chuckles, the sound deep in the back of his throat as he floats by. Thick fingers and exposed heels dragging along in the crystal water, he greets the yellow sun like an old friend – arms wide, chest out, a lazy smile on his face. A damp rag – supposedly clean – sits over what you know to be dark-earth eyes, every other inch of him relishing in the inevitable sun tan. 

“I see your aaahhh, pet, and I raise you a mhmm.” The rubber squeaks as he adjusts, tips his scarred chin up to the cloudless sky and rests his head back. “Kevva said there’d be days like this, but I think the old hag mighta left out a thing or two.” 

You grin, the wet heat of Banu 8’s lowlands drawing sweat droplets onto your hairline at the back of your neck, settling thick behind your ears where it co-mingles with the drunk haze loping around in your brain. You watch Ezra with his bare arms, hairy legs, and prominent nose turned towards the divinity he’s so fond of invoking and the thought crosses your mind – again:

Shit, he’s so fucking hot. 

Oh, bad thought.

You drop your gaze, pressing the cold aluminum lip of the can to your mouth, drinking quicker than you probably should, anything to distract you from your partner as he obliviously floats by. 

For our sake, you silently beg the hungry little creature that whines and snaps at the image of a shirtless Ezra, please fuck off. 

While Ezra whistles a vaguely familiar tune, terribly off-key, you scoop up the cool lagoon water and dribble it over your hot knees, then your thighs, dampening the rims of your make-shift shorts just enough to cool them without leaving them vulnerable to a permanent state of moisture due to the high humidity. You flick the last drops of the water onto your chest, your white cotton bra choked to your skin. A final effect, you press the cool can to the thrumming pulse on your neck, closing your eyes with a relieved grunt, taking the time to enjoy the sensation of the cold metal against the rapid beat in your throat. 

From the water, you hear an unsettled grunt and you open your eyes to find that same shirtless Ezra staring at you, the rag now curled in one hand against the rubber float. He swallows, looks at something past your ear, and again tries to adjust in the sticky rubber float without flipping himself over, his hands falling into his lap. 

“Neptune, dear, would you do us the favor of tossing over one of those cans? I’m parched. I think my lovely skin is drying out.”

Neptune. His favorite nickname for you. You never got any real explanation from him as to why you got that name, other than after you’d officially joined his crew, you told him you came from a blue planet in a far off system. But that was often the way of things: Ezra did something and you didn’t question why. From that simple truth, you learned about how to repair and rebuild the entire electrical system from a drop pod. You learned, in excruciating detail, the parts and mechanics of a thrower, so much so that you could almost identify the model number at a glance. You learned about which corporate dig sites to avoid, which made for easy marks, and which would draw the eye and ire of entities hardly worth the trouble. 

Being out on your own since you aged up out of the orphanage had not gone the way you hoped and life had not been so kind as to teach you any other way to survive. Ezra had found you in the back of a red spice market, cornered and slurping down the last few of your credits from a muck bowl that you had vastly overpaid for.

For whatever reason, he offered you a job on the spot, despite you having nothing to offer him. and no experience in anything except cleaning prophylaxiams and staying out of the way.

And yet, he has been far kinder than life, or anyone else, had ever been to you. 

As a result, loyalty was only a fraction of what you felt for him. What had begun as overwhelming adoration had grown hot to the touch, slippery between your fingers at night, and perhaps – what you feared most of all – obvious. 

Yet when Ezra looked at you with a smile on his face, it was only comradery he wished to share with you, certainly not his bed. He shared it with practically every other bi-pedal humanoid you came across, but not you. And this you had to accept. And you did. 

But being a little drunk made it that much harder to remember where to keep your hands to avoid being burned.

“Sure, Ez.” You tuck your legs out from the cool water and dig around in the canvas bag at the base of the white nut tree. Most of the ice had melted into the bright green grass around the lagoon, but a few of the cans were still cold. You’d probably tease Ezra later for skimping on the insulation bucket the provisions store the port offered, but he had been so eager to get to the camp ground after spending an “exceedingly exorbitant amount of time stacked up against human drivel on public transportation”. One lopsided grin, and you’d give him the world. 

“Ez–,”

He lifts the rag, glancing at you over his shoulder, hands cupped as the can flies through the air. The cold metal presses against the overheated skin on his chest and he hisses. Eyeing the can ruefully, he cracks it open and drinks deep. You busy yourself with sliding to the edge of the pool again to keep from watching his throat move. 

Ezra finally pulls back, smacking his lips, with a pleased groan. He wets the rag again and dramatically flops it over his eyes. Hidden from his view, you watch the roll of water down his temples, his neck, his chest. 

“Name anything better than this, Neptune, I beg you. Free from obligation or assignment on commission. Where my only moral imperative is to drink as many of these as I can and remind you how beautiful you are. Which . . .” he tilts the bottom of the can towards you, head still tilted back on the raft and dripping rag covering his vision, “fantastic, by the way.” 

Having stifled your blush while under his watchful gaze about three or four other times today, without him looking, you flush so hard and fast you go lightheaded. Beautiful, he said. You drink more carbonated alcohol to choke back your rising heart, your eyes skim over the curve of his nose, a drop of sweat as it peaks on his forehead. You can’t linger over him too long; he has a six-sense about you – unable to know what you’re thinking but that you’re overthinking all the same. 

“Was this worth the trip on public transportation, Ez?” Your ankles stir the water again. 

“I could do this all day,” he sighs contently, bringing a warm smile to your face. “And definitely all night.”

Maybe you’ll both be so sun-drunk later tonight, you’ll fall asleep together on the pallet on the floor. Of course, by nightfall, someone will have to come to their senses and you’ll be tucked back into your separate sleeping bags, but maybe, as a present you couldn’t possibly ask for, you can just nap together.

With the bottom plush of your lip stuck between your teeth, you rim the metallic edge of your can with your nail, ankles spinning slow circles in the water. 

“Thank you, Ezra,” you say quietly, “for the best birthday I’ve ever had.” 

It began as a sort of joke one night on the volcanic hotspring moon of Wulkan after a twelve hour shift hunting through the black ash in search of fire pearls. The job was rather rushed, and Ezra had his reservations going into it, but fire pearls were a near certainty and you both needed a boost after a jump exchange had gone a little cockeyed. Sweat dripping from his temples, the provided water packs in the harvest suits doing just enough to keep him from passing out from heat exhaustion, he extended the skein of hydro-electric towards you across the narrow lane between your cots and asked you if you could be anywhere right now, any system, where would you be.

“Somewhere so cold I freeze my tits clean off,” you said with a sigh and wiped your own sweat-drenched forehead. You could smell yourself after two days of sweating profusely, but your stench in comparison to the rest of the crew, including Ezra, barely registered any more. You took a sip as Ezra laughed.

“A grievous crime against humanity and all its luscious gifts, but I get your meaning. Anywhere else?”

“Water.” This was said with more conviction, so much so it turned Ezra’s head towards you. “The few memories I have of my home planet and my parents, we were always near or in water. An ocean, maybe. I’m not sure. But I remember being really, really happy and I think being near water . . . it would make me happy again.”

You handed the skein back to Ezra, something unreadable in his gaze. He took it back from you, his fingers dark from the ash that clings to everything. On the other side of the tent, the rest of your crew and other teams mill about, yelling, with cutlery clattering as the camp gets ready to slow for the night, a graveyard shift picking up in just a few hours. 

Ezra’s eyes are as dark as the ash you’ve been shifting through the past two days.

“Then you shall have it, Neptune.” He said, quietly. “I’d give you the fucking galaxy if I could.” 

Those words often came to you in the crevice between sleep and wakefulness, when your mind was idle and the reins that tightly bound your affection for him loosened without a conscious grip. When you thought you weren’t being watched. 

The flat of his foot hooking behind your ankle breaks you from your reverie. Cast into shadow by the wide, rubbery palm leaves above your head, he looks at you curiously. 

“That look of deep consternation is giving me a headache. Spill.” 

With a faint smile, you gently bump his knee with your own. “Nothing, Ez. I’m just glad we get to take a break from it all. I can’t remember the last time I . . . the last time we’ve just had nothing to do.” 

He cocks his head as his gaze crawls up your ankle, your shin, to your knee. You think it might linger on your thigh before it bounces to your face. You tighten your grip on the hot, expansive feeling behind your ribs and stare back at him.

“Then that’s a black mark against me, as the leader of this clan.” His mouth curls, eyebrow arching as he talks, knowing that statement has been a point of playful contention between you two for years. “A good overseer knows when to crack the bullwhip and when to let it rest.”

“Well, a better overseer knows when to demand that her team rests, because sometimes they have no idea what’s good for them.” 

His foot rotates behind your ankle, his toes brushing against your calf, bringing your attention to your own body part in the water. Your legs are hairy, nearly as much as Ezra’s, and you haven’t shaved your pits in possibly a decade. Ezra once brought home a professional nightwalker, one from the Upper City, to the derelict flat you’d been sharing for two weeks as you offloaded your haul to the under markets. You never forgot how smooth her skin had been, shaved clean and smelling of moon lilies. That scent permeated the small space for weeks afterward. Even now, just the sight of moon lilies makes you nauseous. 

His aversion to you runs much deeper than physical aesthetics, even if you can’t help but wonder sometimes if becoming as smooth and hairless as the nightwalker might change his mind.

Ezra’s aversion to you runs much deeper than physical aesthetics, even if you can’t help but wonder sometimes if becoming as smooth and hairless as the nightwalker might change his mind.

“Observational to a fault as always, Neptune.” The ball of his foot rests briefly between your legs before he pushes off from the spongy lip of the lagoon’s edge. He floats back into the sun, his head shaking slightly, a smile drained of amusement on his lips. He inhales as the sun crests over his forehead and he glances up at the blue sky. “I have no idea what’s good for me.”

Something about his tone, the way he turns away from you, scratches a very raw place inside of you – a place that fears and obsesses over abandonment. You wouldn’t survive it if he abandoned you, if he left you to fend for yourself one day. Logically, you know he would never do that – he has sworn up and down to your face that that notion is fundamentally ludicrous to him – but the anguish of him silently rejecting you from his bed again and again and again makes that fragile place inside you bleed red. 

You stand up, swipe another can from the bag, and move towards the waterfall. 

“I’m taking a hike.”

You feel his eyes on the backs of your thighs as you march towards the gentle incline.

“Be safe, Neptune,” he calls softly.

For a fleeting second, you wish he had made you stay.

The first fat raindrop splashes against your cheek and wakes you from a humid, irritated nap. You’re scowling by the time you open your eyes to several more wet droplets as they splatter against your neck, your forehead and you sit up, even more frustrated than when you fell asleep. The last sticky tendrils of dreams snap and pop as you pull yourself onto your feet, back hunched and arm held high against the steamy sprinkle. A crack of lightning, then a growl of thunder, and the sky splits open, drenching you in seconds. With a snarl of your own, you snatch up the empty can from the grass next to you and make for your camp down the hill. As you crest the top, you see a figure standing outside the tent, back tense and hand raised as if searching through the twilight gray downpour. 

Normally, the thought of warming up beside Ezra in your yellow tent fills you with something inexplicable, the grime and load of the day melting from your shoulders, but your buzz from earlier has thickened, made worse by the heat, the emotions in your heart all gummed up and smashed together. The sight of him cranks up your irritation high in your ears. With a huff, you concentrate on a smooth slide down the hill without breaking your ankles and not the fire rising in your gut. 

But the rain and the distance apart has only stoked his own outrage.

“Where the hell were you?” He snaps as you yank back the velcroed tent flap. He is dripping from head to toe in jungle rain as he follows closely behind you into your small space. You ring the water from your hair into a corner and scowl up at him. 

“I fell asleep. The rain woke me up. I came back as soon as I could.” 

His eyes narrow, water rolling off his bare shoulders as if he still stood out in the downpour. The droplets pat pat pat against the tarp floor as he snatches up a fiber towel and dries himself off, scowling all the while. 

“I searched for you, calling your name up and down this fuckin’ jungle and I didn’t hear a peep. What if something had gone wrong? What if you’d been hurt?”

“Then I would have fucking dealt with it, Ezra.” You stomp to your feet, neck hot from his patronizing gaze. Hands on his hips, you feel like you’re being scolded. “I can take care of myself.” 

One dark eyebrow arches mockingly, the scar on his cheek twisting in his scowl.

“And you expect me to lay about, twiddling my thumbs, while I wait for you to return or until you deem it appropriate for me to fret over your corpse?” 

That patch of blonde hair is a shade darker, drenched and pressed flat against his forehead. His bare chest is littered with scars and divots where chunks of flesh had been torn away. His skin is a reflection of the hard life he lives. You doubt you’d look any different if you’d seen yourself in a mirror. 

“We are partners, Ez,” you grind out between locked teeth. “Equals, alright? I am not your little sister for you to fuss over and you are not my keeper.” 

At that, the indignant swell of his chest deflates and the anger in his eyes flickers before fading out. 

“You are beyond capture,” he mutters, eyebrows down but gaze distant. “I’d never dream of keeping you, Neptune.” 

Again, it’s his phrasing that hurts most of all. You glance away, the backs of your eyes growing hot and tight, drying out despite the sticky moisture warming the inside of the tent. But then his hand around your elbow startles away the tears forming in the corners of your eyes. 

“You are the most important thing to me in the entirety of this world and the next,” he says softly, earth eyes searching your face. “I came on too strong, I know that, but the idea that you’d ever be gone from my side for any amount of permanence . . . well, it’s been a lifetime since I’ve felt fear like that.” 

His frown goes belly-up, a hopeless smile on his face. “I wasn’t aware I even still could.” His calloused thumb brushes your skin, skin that nearly catches fire from the rough drag of scar tissue, before he lets his hand drop. Your own curls into a fist at your side, a tremor rattling the bones of your wrist in an effort to keep from reaching up and touching that moon-shaped scar you dream about at night.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ez. You taught me enough to survive in a world like this. But you’re going to have to trust me.”

That smile goes wan, sickly. “That’s the problem, dear heart, I trust you with my life.” 

He swallows, as if suddenly bashful to make direct eye contact with you. He clears his throat before rummaging around in his canvas bag for dry clothes. He yanks a black, sleeveless shirt on over his head before setting up the materials for a flameless pocket fire. 

“Since my dreams of showing you something called a barbeque have been quite literally rained out, we’ll finish off the rest of the dredge pack tonight. But come first light, I’ll fix you breakfast so succulent, the smell alone’ll make your mouth water. How does that sound, Neptune?”

He barely slows to breathe as he seamlessly switches topics from breakfast to another meal made at camp without looking up or stalling in his prep for dinner, hands almost disconnected from the humming of his mouth – one so methodical, the other like a channel rat on fire. 

“– and the thing was no one was really sure enough what a squatter egg looked like when it goes bad. But being out in a cramped hold-out for two weeks where it was so dark, your own ass and someone else’s had no demarcation, well, there wasn’t a single peep of dissimilitude . . .”

Words strung together so quick and so melodic, it was always incredibly easy to fall into a sort of easy trance around Ezra. Sounds and syllables just sounded right coming out of his mouth and after a while, that trance became a state of repose, Ezra’s own sense of calm filtered to whoever was also in the room. But not to you, not right now.

After spending immeasurable time with less than half a space between you in cramped tents and in claustrophobic dig sites, you could read the tension on the lines of his body as well as the lines on the palm of your hand. 

“Neptune? You with me?”

Ezra glances up at you, always aware of you and your movements like the twinge on a spider’s web, a signature smile that has always seemed to shine a bit brighter for you plastered over his face. The anger was the only thing holding you up and with it gone, you can feel your bruised heart twinge as it folds over itself. 

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’m gonna switch out of these wet clothes before we eat, okay?”

He hums, nodding, eyes fixating on the steadily boiling water in front of him as you turn away to the other side of the tent, by your pallet and traveler’s pack. As further evidence that he feels nothing but companionship for you, you feel his eyes remain nowhere near you as you strip off your shorts and bra for a sun-warm suit. Then again, you’d like to think it’s kind of scandalous to be changing in front of him, but you’d both seen each other naked more times than you could count – there is no modesty in foxholes. The space between your hips and your thighs feel sticky from sweat and the slick rain, the curve of your spine warm and flushed. The zipper is loud in the silence. 

You’re braiding your damp hair away from your face when he sighs and the noise makes you look back at him.

“Answer me honestly, if you’ve ever cared for me a tick. Do you regret it?”

His eyes are sorrowful, worried, brow fixed down. Ezra is not, and never has been, a man prone to melancholy. His wrists rest loosely over his knees, gaze deep in the bubbling bone broth. The rain outside taps insistently at the tarp. 

“Regret what?” 

“Coming with me and taking on this life. It’s not an easy one,” he says quietly. “I should have offered you another choice, that day in the market. But one look at you and I . . . I was willing to trust you with my life, Neptune – far, far too soon. Even at my best, you make me irrational.”

You watch him, his broad shoulders moving, as he scoops up the hot, dark liquid into two bowls, and joins you by the entrance to the tent. You pin back the flap as he settles, the scent of humid rain immediately flooding your mouth, the pattering sound now twice as loud. Wordlessly, he hands you a spoon before digging into his own bowl. 

The heat of the soup burns away all the silly, impossible things sitting on your tongue. You sit in silence, his presence never rushing you to answer before you are ready. As you eat, you stare out at the dark lagoon, where you had both been only hours ago, the clear water murky beneath the downpour. 

“No, Ezra, I don’t regret it.” He stills, as if surprised you’re answering him now, mid-meal. He lowers the bowl to his lap, eyes trained on you. “You saved my life, more times than I can count.” 

Your words loosen the rigid lock of his shoulders. He grins. “As you’ve said, you would have been just fine without me.”

Your vision goes blurry. You pin him with such a stare, you watch the blood rush from his face.

“But it would have been only half a life.”

“Don’t kid about that, Neptune, it’s not –,”

“I’m serious.” You put your bowl down and rub your eyes with your sleeves. Of all the ways he hasd seen you bare and naked, he’sd never seen you this vulnerable. “I don’t wanna do any of this without you. I want you, Ezra.”

“You have me, dear heart, you have me.”

“Not like that and you know it.” You watch as understanding rolls across his face. His lips part, eyes wider. He swallows and you stare at the ceiling, cheeks suddenly wet and hot. He said he’d never leave you, but what if this is the thing that finally does it? Could he work with you, knowing just how deeply you love him, and not feel an ounce of disgust? “You told me once sex is just a way to pass the time, but never, not once, have you ever even tried to pass the time with me.” 

He swallows, deeper this time, jaw locked, his eyes fluttering with the force of it. He brings his knees to his chest.

“Because it wouldn’t just be passing time with you.” 

In that moment, you’re grateful for the rain, for the sound of something to fill the silence. 

You stare at him, cross-legged in front of the open corner of this yellow tent, abandoned bowls growing colder, but he sits with his leg up, knee to his chest, as if to ward you off. Ward off whatever is growing in your gaze, under the flat bone over your heart in your chest. But whatever is stifling the air in your lungs, is warming his eyes past the point of comfort, barrelling towards expletives and the crass, the lewd and depraved. You cannot go back to having him look at you any other way. 

That look loosens every line in his face when you crawl into his lap, your knees around his hips. The backs of your thighs go damp, even through the suit, pressing down onto his still-damp shorts, and you think his breathing has quickened.

His massive palm hovers near your cheek, unwilling or unable to pull you forward or push you back, his oak eyes searching your face for signs of discomfort as if he had somehow dragged you across the tarp floor. 

“Neptune,” he mumbles as he focuses on the curve of your bottom lip, “this is unwise. You don’t know what you’re asking for.” 

You can feel the hard curve of his shoulders as you follow the lines of his arms and settle them on his collarbone. Nothing has happened that can’t be undone – not yet. Your perfect, vicious Ezra hasn’t pressed you flat on your back like you thought he would at the hint of sex. You could return with your dignity tomorrow morning, this moment never spoken of again, and he’d let you have that. The shake of his elbow with his palm against the tarp is the only indication that something might be unsettling to him. 

But it is your birthday after all. Maybe he’d let you have this one thing. He doesn’t know you’ll die without it.

“If you don’t want this . . . if you don’t want m-me, then say something. Push me away and I’ll never bring it up again.” You cup the sides of his neck as your hips shift forward, closer to him. The air in your lungs tightens, breath coming in shallow pants. Only then does he drop your gaze and fixate on your encroaching heat. “At least then I’ll know.” 

There. Out loud. It’s been said, heard above the deluge of rain against the tent and the jungle outside. 

His palm finally settles on your cheek. It brings a sense of wholeness to you like you’ve never known. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, a breathy exhale pours out of your mouth. His thumb catches the plush curve of your bottom lip and he draws it towards your chin, his own mouth open, enraptured. 

“Sweet thing, how have you not always known?” 

His mouth is humid against yours, as if he swallowed the jungle while looking for you, his thumb releasing your lip to capture with his own. The tip of his pointer finger massages the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear, and he manipulates your head until your mouth parts like he wants.

His tongue skims your upper lip, a tentative exploration into the unknown rewarded with a low groan that is warmed by the heat coiling low in your hips. You taste his tongue, a hot glide inside your mouth, and you feel his arms slip around your lower back, his inhale of breath sharp across your face as he brings you closer. He bites your lips roughly, the spark of pain and pleasure crackling across your face as if you’d brushed a live wire. 

His fingers wrap around your wrist, prying you from the back of his neck, just for a moment, his eyes heat-soaked. You suck your teeth, mouth open and seeking, and the hand around your jaw drops to your collarbone, the breadth of his palm nearly suffocating your throat.

The briefest pressure – the slightest touch – at the pulse at the bottom of your neck and your hips rock forward into him as he flattens his other palm to your ass, clutching you to him and pinning you to the pallet in the center of the tent. 

His teeth scrape against the curve of your ear, pinching the cartilage between his incisors, while his hands frantically search up and down your waist. His weight smothers you, his stomach breathing into yours, the flat plane of his chest rubbing your nipples raw against your suit, an unfocused lurch to his hips every time you tug on his hair. With every breath, every time you try to savor his touch, the taste of his mouth is like a wave, dragging you forward, wrapping a dizzy chain around your throat and squeezing.

Ezra’s greatest weapon has always been his mouth, that silver string spinning faster the longer he captivates you, spell-bound. Now he uses to decimate you in entirely new ways. 

The suck of his lips against the moist flesh below your ear distantly distracts from the afterburn of his unkempt beard against your jaw, your cheek. His lips alternate patterns of reward with a plush kiss and punishment with a stern nip when you try and stifle a moan. The edge of his shirt is damp from resting against his shorts when you slip your fingers underneath to palm the small of his back. He stills when you run your fingers around to the front of his trunks. 

His hand curls around a clump of hair at the base of your skull, his eyes darker than volcanic ash. The steady heat of his groin against your thigh is a sensation you’ll chase for the rest of your life.

“You know what happens when you touch a man there, Neptune?” He’s breathing hard, you both are, and the way he snags your hair in his fist has your head twisted at an odd angle, but you’d be damned to a Kevva-forgotten corner of the cosmos before you drop his gaze. You nod and that moon-shaped scar on his cheek twitches. “I know I didn’t teach you that.”

“L-learned it – somewhere else – Ezra.” Your mouth isn’t working properly, your lips swollen from his kisses, the slight pain in your scalp making it difficult to focus, while and your cunt tightens hungrily. “Had to.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you wouldn’t give it to me.” 

He leans back, his forearm tense and corded where he has you by the hair, a seemingly disinterested scowl on his face. But by the throbbing length pressed up against you, so far from where you need him the most, he is anything but. 

“So you’re saying this is my fault?” Without breaking eye contact, his chest raised inches above yours, his fingers snag on the blue zipper by your collar and your breathing nearly stops. He hums to himself, eyes following the path of the zipper as the material separates, click by click by click. When it reaches your belly button, he stops. 

“Ezra –,” it’s a whine and you can’t even chastise yourself for it. And neither, it seems, can he. 

Head tilted as if curious about the label of a box beneath colorful wrapping, he dips his wide hand beneath the edge of your suit. The heat that radiates from his palm against the curve of your stomach has you writhing underneath him, your knees drawing up to his hips, trying to catch any relief. 

But he takes his self-satisfied time. Callouses of a hard-won life snag and drag over the soft paper-thin skin that covers your ribs as he maps you in one hand. When he cups your right breast in his palm, the noise you make is a sob of gratitude. 

“You let another man besides me do this to you?” 

The snarling pit of your own thoughts slows as some awareness realizes he’s speaking to you. 

You swallow, clutching his bicep, begging for forgiveness before even opening your mouth to answer. 

“It didn’t mean anything, Ez, it wasn’t you – it meant nothing to me–,”

“But you let someone else touch what’s mine, hm?” That lazy, slightly irritated look on his face, he rotates his hand, squeezing the cup of your tit again, before sharply pinching your nipple. 

“Ezra–,” you choke out and his thigh shifts between your legs, just close enough to feel the heat but nowhere near close enough to grind against. His thumb rotates the raised flesh slow enough to capture and catalog every sigh it draws from you, his eyes catching between his hand and your relaxed face. 

He wears the same expression he does when sitting in the backs of blackmarket tea shops and smoky alebins. When the prospect of striking gold becomes all he can think about.

“Strip.” He suddenly commands. He lifts off you just enough for you to wrench your arm through the armhole, all the while keeping a rough palm on one breast, and then the other. You watch him massage your flesh and your ribs tremble with an unsteady breath. Only when a slightly cool breeze meanders over your bare shoulders and chest do you realize that the tent flap is still open, your head inches from the edge. A perfect and unimpeded view to anyone who wants to watch him hungrily grope your tits. Embarrassment peaks sharply, despite his hand pressing you into the tarp, you wrench your neck back and look over your shoulder through the window of the open tent as if you need to confirm that you are giving the jungle a floor show.

“Ez– shit, the flap–,” 

He finds that the skin beneath your breast had grown sticky and slick from sweat, the humidity still oppressive even with a breeze. He bends his head and licks that same sweaty path and your attention snaps back to him, nails curling against his scalp, his warm breath a high-intensity balm to your roughly-played-with nipples. 

“Not a soul in sight, Neptune,” he murmurs lazily into your ribcage, his nose running up and down the valley between your tits. “And if there were, let them learn a thing or two.” 

His teeth nip the swell of your stomach as he crawls down your half-naked body. Without his heat and hands, the tenderness from his attention on your breasts ratchets up to an ache, a minor preoccupation before he hooks his fingers around the rest of the jumpsuit and tugs. 

You are naked beneath him, swollen chest rising and falling, your knuckles scraping against the pallet as you search for something to grip with all your might. You smell of lagoon water and hot jungle air, of muggy photosynthesis and algae. The smoky scent of the black ash of that distant planet never really left Ezra and the dampness of the rain seems to stir it up. He towers over you, dark and breathing heavy. Smoke and brimstone.

He gropes your ankles, then your calves, hands gliding over the thick hair there – now grown soft in length – as he slowly spreads your legs, with a light you’d never seen before in his eyes. 

“Neptune, I revolve around you.” 

A wave of anxiety lurches up your throat when he brings his mouth to your cunt, the cloying, imagined scent of moon lilies threatening to tear you out of the moment – he won’t want you wild like this – but it’s forcefully yanked back down with a single stripe of his tongue. His previously casual, authoritative persona cracks when he buries his face into your unkempt curls and lets out a deep, overly pleased moan.

Your back bends and he’s gathering up your limbs in his arms to pin them down, nearly resting his forehead on your pubic bone. A few more licks, some deeper than others into where you drip for him, and your thighs start to shake. His fingers around your thighs squeeze roughly against your flesh and pull you further apart. 

Between the flush of slick seeping from you at an embarrassing rate and the wiry hair kept natural out of a certainty no one would see it, he must be drowning or choking, his tongue flicking and sliding, nose prodding your clit just enough to spread the sparks of arousal up through your spine. Feeling as though you’re losing your grip on reality, you sink your hands into his hair, thumb rubbing back that blonde patch, and tug. The moan he shoots into your cunt as he rocks forward into your touch has you whining helplessly. The tarp squeaks where he rubs his hips into it. 

His arms curled around your thighs, your hips shake with restraint against every lap of his tongue until he flicks your clit and your hips grind up against his obliging mouth, a sunspot of pleasure flaring brightly. But all too soon, Ezra lifts up onto his elbows, his hands smoothing across your stomach and he pops his mouth up from your wet folds. With an irate gasp, the swell of bliss fading, your gaze snaps down to plead with him, but he shakes his head.

Wordlessly, he takes one hand from your thigh and wipes his mouth clean with a swipe of his fingers. Then, with his eyes wide, the skin around his mouth loose, he crooks two fingers at the top of your mound before sliding them down where his mouth was seconds ago and presses them inside of you. That simmering in your low belly roars back to life and you toss your head against the unforgiving pallet, eyes slamming shut. He growls at the obscene sucking noise your cunt makes as he plucks at you, in and out. 

“Oleaginous,” he hums, so quietly, it might have been for him. He tongues your clit lightly, pushing his fingers as deep as they can go, watching you thrash. “Mine. Understand?” You remember that tone of voice from when he had you dissecting throwers on a workbench in front of him. You nod, eyes fluttering open, balancing on the precarious edge of release. 

You want to obey his every word. 

His thumb twists up, opening your clit to him and within a whispered breath of “good girl” he sucks your bundle of nerves and launches you into orbit. 

Your entire body goes stiff from the force of it, only to crash back down into his waiting hands, your voice wavering on a high-pitched, girlish wail that shrieks above the sound of rain. Waves of bliss lap at every nerve ending and your vision goes fuzzy for a minute, the only sound you can register is the pounding of your blood in your ears.

And then you register the steady, wet plunge of his fingers still dragging in and out of your pussy.

“Was that mine?” 

Your clit tingles from overstimulation, but you’d rather die than have him stop – you want to answer, if only you could pick up the pieces of your voice. You can only nod, whining. He presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, the skin there smeared with your release.

“You did a bad thing, letting someone else touch what’s mine.” He scolds, rubs that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back in your head, holds his finger to it until it burns. You cry, his punishment evident. “Now you have to apologize, Neptune.” 

You nod again, mouth wrenched open as he drags you back and forth across pleasure and pain. 

“Y-y-yes, Ezra,” the words are bone dry, cracked between your teeth. “I’m sorry.” 

Pure wickedness strikes those earth eyes and scorches them a singed black. 

“Unfortunately, atonement is a fickle thing,” Ezra tuts, dragging his lips across your thigh in a mockery of a kiss, “and I’m not quite ready to offer absolution. Despite your offerings,” he wipes his mouth with a stroke of his palm, “this godhead remains rigid.” 

You whimper. He grins with a mouthful of teeth.

Ezra pulls back onto his knees and shuts your thighs, his hand palming your ass as he indicates that you should turn. Your entire lower half still feels like jelly – no one has ever made you come that hard with just their mouth before – but you obey. You stagger onto your hands and knees in front of him. 

His wide palm appears beneath your chin.

“Spit.”

You do.

That spit-wet hand cups your still wet cunt, middle finger rubbing briefly against your clit, before it disappears. You feel him move closer, hear his slick hand pump himself a few times with a grunt. Hot lips drag up your spine, interspersed with the nip of teeth, and when he lays across your back, his hands overtaking yours and threading your fingers together, his bare chest presses up against the skin of your back and you shudder. 

He noses your temple, his throbbing cock coated between your folds. He bites at your jaw and follows your line of sight through the open tent flap. 

“Breathtaking, isn’t it? All that moisture, dripping and running over smooth rock and fern. All that heat coagulating in spaces it shouldn’t fit. All that . . . open field, for anyone to just wander into. Take a look around and smell the air. Could they smell you like I can, Neptune? The way you leak for this cock?”

As he hums filth in your ear, his hand settles again at the base of your throat, thick fingers squeezing just enough to threaten, before sliding down to your swinging breasts, rough palms catching your swollen nipples, then arching down your stomach and between your legs. 

He plays slowly with your clit; barely enough stimulation and he knows it.

“Ask for forgiveness.” He croons in your ear. The breeze returns for a moment, and between the heat of him mounting you like a feral animal and the hesitant touch of outside air against your sweaty chest, you shudder with a groan. 

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I’m so–,” his middle finger increases its pressure slightly and the words shatter in your mouth, “sor-ry.” 

“And for what?”

He continues to rub between your folds and the minute hitch in his breath is more intoxicating than anything he’s done so far. This is affecting him just as much as it does you. He kisses your jaw then tugs on the skin with his teeth. 

“For letting a-anyone but you t-touch me.”

Ezra presses his damp forehead into your shoulder, panting, your correct answers soaking the neurons in his brain. Your reward is the faster stroke of his finger. 

“And why was that a reprehensible thing to do?” His hips rut into yours, the scrape and rub of his cock between your slick lips and thighs almost enough to set you off. 

“Because it’s yours – I’m yours – f-fuck, Ezra, I’m yours, I only wanna be yours,” you sob. 

He’s suddenly gone from above you and the loud crack of his hand against your ass cheek deafens you for a minute, the sting skittering up your back and down your thigh. 

“Good fuckin’ girl.”

Your elbows shudder, the weight of his tone, his hand nearly forcing you onto your chest with your ass still in the air. You wanna be so good for him. 

He’s breathing hard and his skin is warm and damp where you feel his thigh press against the back of yours. There’s a measure of restraint he’s showing and it makes your heart pound in anticipation. You swing your hips back at him, as if you could catch yourself on his cock. 

“I wanna show you I’m yours,” you cry, nails curling into the pallet. “Please, Ezra, please!”

His broad hand settling on your spine draws a hiccup out of you, a sob. 

“Breathe . . . Good girls get what they need.” 

On an exhale, his blunt tip spreads you apart and he shuffles closer as he thickens inside you. His loud, unabashed moan overwhelms yours, when you think you might just be devoured by him. His hand, the one at your hip, squeezes you, silent reassurance. You can feel the knuckles on his other hand against your slick lips as he feeds himself into you.

“Neptune, talk to me. How,” your cunt tightens around his girth at the sound of his voice coaching you along and he grunts, as if suddenly dizzy, “h-how do you feel?”

“Amazing, Ez. Please keep going don’t stop I can take it–,” 

He obliges; something’s reconnected the wires in his brain enough to tell him to move. He huffs before sinking deeper and your eyes roll back in your head. He bottoms out and waits again, letting you both catch your breath. 

“Spent a hundred moons thinking about this.” The puff of breath against your shoulder is the only warning you have before he presses his mouth to your skin. His hand free of your clutch, his thumb softly rubs the muscle of your neck. He kisses you and kisses you and kisses you, wherever he finds bare flesh. “Would wake up in the night, with you a few feet from me, looking like divinity made sin, made real, but I wasn’t worthy to touch you. You got me all tongue-tied, Neptune, all mucked up in the head. A silly boy,” he purrs.

You glance over your shoulder, unsure which Ezra is going to meet your eyes, but wanting all of them. The man you feel most safe with in this world and the next greets you and you reach back and squeeze his hand. He chuckles softly, and with it, comes a gentle roll of his hips. You gasp, airily, your gaze slipping from his face to his chest, to the steady breathing in his stomach, and then to the growth of hair that fades as it reaches up his low belly. How many times did you sit across the room from him with your fists in tight balls, watching as he regaled exploits of riches and wonder, all the while thinking about how thick his cock is outlined in his suit – you’re so blinded by breathy dreams of what the musky scent of his cock must taste like that you miss that he’s pulled out farther, halfway now, and you are completely knocked senseless when he thrusts back in, a beat faster. 

“Later, Neptune. I’ll let you suck my cock later, but right now I’ve gotta ride this pussy to oblivion.” 

Your thighs quake at his promise, cunt squeezing him, and he huffs, picking up speed.

“I felt that. You really like sucking cock that much?” 

All you can answer him with is a whine. Your knees are starting to ache from the barest cushion the tarp provides, the palms of your hands sore, but you can’t find it in you to remotely care. With every stroke, he fills you up to a breaking point before riding you back out. Moaning gratefully, you finally drop onto your elbows, your cheek scraping against the pallet with every forceful thrust behind you. He tilts your hips up higher, on one knee to fuck down into you; he’s searching with his cock for that spot that made your brain numb. 

Like a flood, you feel bliss roll down your spine, his hands on your lower back pulling you up another peak, and you gasp, at the edge of a very, very long drop, the sounds in the tent as sticky and wet as the rain outside.

But Ezra’s sounds are loudest of them all. Grunting. Hissing. Moaning like he’s fucking the best pussy of his life. You open one eye, glancing over your shoulder and the sight drops open your mouth. Hips pumping forward, skin dewy with sweat, he breathes like a freshly broken-in stallion, relieved that something finally bested him. Chest full and tight with muscle, flushed pink with roaring blood. Stomach torqued with tension. His rhythm is caught between his hands pulling you onto him and his cock thrusting into you. A frantic beat that bounces wet and hot, mouth agape and eyes rolling shut, his head drops back between his shoulders. You push back slightly and he stutters, the hand on your hip tightening. 

“Not gonna last, Neptune–” he grits, his jaw locked tight. The image of him actively staving off an orgasm for you to finish first has been imprinted on your brain for the rest of your life. 

“J-just a little harder, Ez.” 

He obeys, submitting as you had for him, sweat curling around his neck and down his chest. 

As release barrels down on you, those mahogany eyes catch and hold yours in a second that lasts through infinity. They promise you things that you didn’t know you asked for, those eyes, made vows only your soul could hear. You see, in that instant before you are swallowed whole, that he’d die at your feet, if you asked him to. He’d give up every worldly treasure he won through grit and his teeth if you needed it or wanted it. If it made you happy.

His Neptune – in the crushing grip of your gravity. Willingly caught in the trail of your comet as you fill up his night sky.    

“Yeah, that’s it, right there – Ez-ra!” 

His face blown out in near ecclesial bliss is the last thing you see before your vision goes white. Your heart pounds in your ears so loudly, it's the only thing that exists for an instant. And then you shatter with a perfectly soft cry, bliss breaking across you like a heavy wave, and you succumb to exhaustion. 

Behind you, he groans, fucking you faster through it, snarling something entirely incomprehensible. 

You think you might say his name, you don’t know what your mouth is doing, but whatever you say, it breaks him and you are dragged through another low shock, the flood of cum deep into your achy cunt enough to contract your walls again, his harsh groan stuffing your ears just as full. 

The rain is barely louder than your desperate attempts to breathe. 

The tarp crackles as you slump forward onto your stomach, Ezra dropping to his side with half his body over yours. Panting raggedly, his hand curls up to the base of your neck, a reassurance of his presence and commitment when words have failed him. 

You lay like that for a long time.

And then, when feeling starts to return to your limbs, you turn your head, your nose rubbing against his. When you breathe hotly across his face, he grins a satisfied grin that splits into a chuckle. You laugh with him too, curling up into his chest, his forearm is sticky across your spine, and he kisses your forehead.

Staring up at the tarp, together you listen to the rain. 

In the long drawn out, buzzy silence, his nails scratch the base of your skull. And then, like he remembered something vital, he picks his head up and looks at you.

“Do you want this to change things for us?” 

“Yes.” You cup the muscles of his thick neck. “Yes, Ezra. I want this to change everything between us. Please.” 

He smiles, unguarded and open. 

“Wild horses never stood a chance . . . especially against these tits.” He nips at the swell of your breast and you laugh. “I had no plans of letting you go in any case . . . but we are bound from this day forward. You know that, don’t you?”

You nod. A stroke of heat passes over his eyes and  Ezra leans forward to kiss you, his hand on your cheek pulling you in close, as close as you can be, two sticky bodies, cum-dried and tingling.

“And if we’re going to spend every year of our lives together, I have a question for you.” he pushes away a stray strand of hair stuck to your face, nose tip to nose tip, “did you have a good birthday, Neptune? Are you satisfied?”

With a giggle that has his eyebrow arching playfully, you kiss his cheek.

“I already told you. This was the best birthday I’ve ever had.” 

+

#ezra prospect #Ezra prospect 2018 #Pedro pascal Ezra #Ezra #ezra smut #prospect 2018 #prospect smut #pedro pascal characters #ezra fanfiction #Ezra fanfic #Pedro pascal character smut #smut #Pedro pascal character fanfiction #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect smut #ezra prospect fluff #1k followers #1k celebration #followers celebration

[your-queer-dad]

Can you be a trans man and not trans masc? Sorry if this is a stupid question, I’m just feeling a little confused about my identity. In a lot of ways I dress kinda androgynously but definitely more masculine than ever feminine. I don’t feel like a super binary man, but I still feel like I am a MAN. It seems like for nonbinary men, transmasc is often used? But I’m not sure how much I actually identify with the label, bc I don’t really feel like I am super super masculine?? I feel more like a man who just likes more androgynous things? I also like a lot of things generally associated with femininity liek long hair and painting my nails. But idk. Maybe I’m just getting confused and this is just semantics but I’m feeling very uncertain rn I don’t even know if this ask makes sense I’m sorry

Hey kiddo, thank you for reaching out, it's a really good question and I'll try and explain how I see it from my own perspective as a transmasc myself. Labels and words that we use to describe ourselves are there to describe our own personal experience of the world and our identities to others without a fifty page essay on how we feel. Sometimes not every one fits, even if others think it's supposed to, and that's okay.

Transmasc is an umbrella term for genderqueer people who feel connected to masculinity, so it's really up to the person whether they chose to use it or not. You can 100% be a trans guy and not be transmasc. Only you can control how you identify and you should go with what feels most comfortable and most like you.

I'm so proud of you, I love you and I hope you have an amazing day.

- dad x

#lgbt #finch rambles #lgbtq #lgbtqia #queer positivity #trans #transgender #trans joy #ask a finch!

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  MuseumGiftShopEraser! They have 9 works on AO3 in the Stranger Things Fandom, and 6 of those are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @museumgiftshoperaser:

Paint the Devil on the Wall

Conversations About Love

Now I'm A Stranger

An Exercise In Denial

Baby, You Were Meant To Follow Me

Her fics are BEAUTIFUL. When I first read Paint the Devil on the Wall I was so obsessed I immediately recced the fic to everyone I knew who would be vaguely interested in a steddie fic. -- anonymous

Below the cut, @museumgiftshoperaser answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I stumbled into it immediately after season 4 came out. I’ve felt very attached to Steve as a character from the beginning of the show and I think I was subconsciously waiting for someone to pair him up with. I think they’re both such great characters to explore themes of dealing with expectation (either by conforming, or fighting against it) and that’s something I always love to write about.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Absolute sucker for fake dating. Can’t get enough of it.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Enemies to lovers! Though now that I’m looking through my AO3 I haven’t actually written that much of it. It doesn’t have to be very intense enemies, though. I just like it when characters don’t immediately get along.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

My brain has been forever rewired by took you for a working boy by pukner. It’s such a gentle, nuanced queer story. It feels vulnerable to me in a way that really only fanfiction can be. Can I sneak in another one?? Because everyone should also absolutely read the shame is on the other side by scoops_ahoy. It taps into this very specific kind of queer compartmentalizing, that I’ve never seen written this well. It broke my heart and patched it right back up.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’ve been stupidly busy with my masters lately so there’s probably not a lot of writing on my horizon. I do have a wip called Doll that I’m slowly chipping away at. It’s a little darker than stuff I’ve written before. I know ‘dark’ isn’t really a trope, but I’m excited to see if I can push these characters a little further. 

What is your writing process like?

Absolute chaos. I write non-chronologically, without an outline, all in the same document. I keep writing snippets and scenes until the whole thing slowly comes together. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

Italicizing words for emphasis. I love it so much, you can rip it from my cold dead hands. It accidentally makes its way into my academic writing for my degree sometimes which is a little embarrassing, but I just love the flair of it. 

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I don’t really do schedules, it doesn’t work for me at all. I try to make sure I have a decent amount of the story written before I start posting to give me a bit of a head start, but forcing myself to finish something by a certain date is a surefire way to kill my motivation.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Probably Paint the Devil on the Wall. It was the first time I’d written the entire story before I started posting so it went through way more rounds of editing than normal. I think you can really tell. It’s also the longest story I’ve ever written (in general, even outside of fanfic). The whole project gave me a lot of confidence as a writer.

How did you get the idea for Paint the Devil on the Wall?

I knew I wanted to participate in the Bigbang and the deadline was coming up, but I still didn’t have an idea. I decided to work backwards and try to think of something that would be fun for the artist(s) to draw. I had a vision of Eddie wearing dungarees without a shirt, absolutely covered in paint and I knew I had to write something to make it happen. I set the story in 80s New York because neo expressionism is really the only kind of art I could see Eddie making. I think it suits him very well. I do actually have a background in art, though! I’m currently getting my MFA, but I’ve worked full time as an artist for several years before that. I had a lot of fun working my passion for art (and all those art history classes I had to take) into the fic.

When writing Paint the Devil on the Wall, what was something you didn’t expect?

All of Steve’s character, to be honest. The fic is written from Eddie’s POV and for a large part of it he has a very hard time figuring out what Steve’s deal is. Right alongside him, I also had an incredibly hard time figuring out his character. It wasn’t until I was working on the final chapter that he finally clicked for me. I realized very late, just like Eddie, that Steve liked him from the very beginning. Most of the enemies to lovers premise was all in Eddie’s head.

What inspired Now I'm a Stranger?

Oh boy, that was forever ago! I remember I started writing it while I was camping with friends because I liked having something to do after everyone went to bed at night. I think I had the idea for that very first scene where Steve doesn’t remember Eddie and it all sort of spiraled from there.

What was your favorite part to write from An Exercise in Denial?

That was the very first fic I wrote, right after season 4 came out! I’ve never written something that fast, I think the whole thing took me less than a week. My favorite part was probably Robin being completely exasperated with both of them. They’re such complete idiots in that fic.

How do/did you feel writing Baby, You Were Meant To Follow Me?

Ahhh… I never got around to finishing that one. I probably never will, to be honest. I wrote the first two parts quite quickly and then the idea I had for the plot spiraled out of control and I realized I didn’t actually feel like writing the rest of it. There were going to be a lot of misunderstandings and I learned that I find that an incredibly frustrating trope to write (when done for drama at least. For comedy, I’m a sucker for misunderstandings.) So I guess I felt a little in over my head.

What was the most difficult part of writing Conversations About Love?

The ending! That fic is so incredibly personal to me and I knew from the beginning that I wanted it to have a very sappy, happy ending. It was important to me to write an aromantic character getting everything they wanted, but I realized as I was writing it that I don’t actually fully know what that means. So it took a bit more soul searching than fics typically do, but it was very much worth it. 

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I still think the short little prologue for Paint the Devil on the Wall is the best thing I’ve written. “You don’t draw on things that aren’t yours, baby” is probably the best summary I have for that story.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Not really!

Thank you to our author, @museumgiftshoperaser, and our anonymous nominator! See more of @museumgiftshoperaser works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's wednesday #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #ao3 writer #steddie writers

[otakubimbo]

Now I'm All Messed Up

Shoko Ieiri x F! Reader.

You and Shoko "break up"?

Hurt No Comfort, Not Proof Read, Wrote This In 30 Minutes.

OB talk: Inspired by the song Now I'm All Messed Up x Tegan and Sara. I couldn't get the idea out of my head after listening to Heartthrob for the 75th time. In my mind, it was written for a female reader but nothing is gendered.

The butt of her cigarette gets smashed under her shoe as Shoko enters into her empty apartment. It was devoid of life, devoid of joy, devoid of you.

Now I’m all messed up. Sick and tired of wondering where. Where you're leaving your makeup

Flashbacks of your terrible singing coming to her mind while she drops her stuff at the door, not even bothering to hang up anything properly. You should be dancing around in her kitchen right now, trying to stay awake as you make her a late-night dinner that she continually told you, you didn’t have to. But you always insisted. Before you, she barely ate dinner, she barely ate anything surviving off of cigarettes and coffee, but you made sure she ate, you made sure she took care of herself. You took care of her.

Now I’m all messed up. Sick and tired of wondering who Who’s life you're making worthwhile?

But now you were gone. Your light had left the cold apartment not long ago and she missed it. She missed you. You were her everything, and yet she was the reason you left. You were her everything, but in those last moments, in those last months, she treated you as if you were nothing to her but a burden. The genuine care you had for her was seen as nothing more than a nuisance as she was putting in overtime, barely sleeping, barely eating, and barely doing anything else besides work. The last words between the two of you still feel fresh in her mind.

Go (Please stay) Go, if you want, I can’t stop you.

You had brought her dinner to the hospital, another 24-hour shift.  She met you in the parking lot while she was taking a smoke break. As you handed her the dinner you packed you fiddle with your sleeves nervously as if you had something to say. The sight of it annoyed her for some reason, making her roll her eyes.

“What” her voice coming out in a huff.

“I know you’ve been so busy lately, and I understand that I do but I was wondering if you could take some time off to come to my art showing. This one’s kind of a big deal and you haven’t really had the time to go to the last few, which I completely understand I know how busy you are but if there was any way you could see if you could maybe take some time off and come. I understand if you can’t I do I was just hoping that maybe you could. If not it’s fine.”

You ramble on trying to downplay how important this galleria was to you. She had missed the last few ones, well more than a few the last several ones, and those were the ones where you had made some big connections that procured you a spot at this huge important galleria opening. Several of your paintings were going to be displayed and some of them were even going up for auction. This was actually a really big deal for you, an important step in your journey as an artist, and all you wanted was your girlfriend there.

Shoko stomped out her cigarette in annoyance, “If it’s not that important then why even ask me to come? You know they’ve been having me work triples here and what kind of time would I have to go to something like that.”

She was stressed and annoyed. Shoko knew that she shouldn’t be taking it out on you, shouldn’t have been constantly taking it out on you but she just couldn’t help it. No matter what she said or did, you always were so understanding, so forgiving, so ready to hold her after a long day stroking her hair as you told her how proud you were of her—kissing her head softly, comforting her until she fell asleep in the middle of the morning before you got up to take care of the house and the rest of your day. You loved her, you loved her with all that you had.

“Yeah no, you’re absolutely right. Sorry for even asking. I completely understand” Your eyes burned with the threat of tears; your voice wavering as you tried to keep your composure. Every word that was said to you, broke your heart bit by bit.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a bother to you, maybe I should stay back at my own place for a while.” You suggest, hoping that she would come around, hoping that she wouldn’t agree.

“Yeah, probably if you want.”

You give her a sad nod, before trying around the tears already streaming down your face.

Just go if you want to. Go if you want, I can’t stop you. Go if you want, I can’t stop you.

That was the last time she had seen you in weeks. Now here she lay face down in her bed, somehow the sheets still smelled of you, everything in her room smelled like you. There were still bits of you in there, some things that you missed. The little frogs you sculpted for her still sat on the bedside table. There were a few unfinished canvases in her closet. There was still so much of you, except without you. All she was left with was the scent of cigarettes and you.

Now I’m all messed up. Sick and tired of wondering where. Where you’re leaving your makeup.

#angst #jjk #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #shoko ieiri #jjk shoko #jujutsu kaisen shoko #shoko x reader #jujutsu shoko #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk fandom #breakup #heartbreak #emotions #feelings #emotional #breakups #you broke my heart #heartbroken #break up #ex girlfriend #relationship

[chandlersquash]

pls enjoy this moodboard i made for one of my protagonists (marnie) in a script i wrote for my college final major project. i know it’s like not that amazing but this was the first time i ever put effort into photoshop and i’m so proud lmao :’)

#moodboard #screenwriting #i’m more proud of this than i should be

[puddleorganism]

Pondering a new rancher au (yes the giant fucking bird is Jimmy) - rambling/explanation under the cut

[Image IDs:

ID 1: a digital drawing of Jimmy/SolidarityGaming and TangoTek, in which Jimmy is a massive approximately 20 foot/6 meter tall bird-like creature. He’s standing idly (to show off his design) with a nervous smile on his face. He has a long neck and long legs that make him look like a dinosaur, but he is covered in light golden-brown feathers and has wings. His wings are huge, the primaries/tips sticking out behind his back. They’re modeled after a turkey vulture’s wings. He’s got a grey hooked beak that is mostly covered in feathers. He’s also got long tail feathers that look just short of skimming the ground. His legs are dark grey with huge talons. All over his legs, wing tips, and tail feathers is a dark grey ash. Tango’s sitting cross-legged on his back/shoulders, hunched over and looking at one of those map books you usually have in your car. (Note: the next image is of Tango, so to avoid redundancy I’m going to describe his appearance better there.) /End ID 1

ID 2: a digital drawing of TangoTek, a humanoid with fire for hair and a long, thin tail tipped in fire; like how a lion’s is tipped with fur. He’s standing idly (again, to show off his design) with his hands in his pockets. He’s got light tan skin with freckles on his nose and wrist. He’s got what look to be black scales on his ears - which are long and pointed - cheeks and nose that have glowing orange cracks in them like burning wood. He’s wearing a red handkerchief over his nose and mouth and has red-tinted goggled pushed up on his forehead. He’s wearing an off-white sweater, a worn leather jacket with red accents, grey cargo pants and black boots. He also has a pale gold and brown messenger bag slung over his left (the viewer’s right) shoulder and back behind his arm. He’s also got two scuffed, worn pins on his jacket; a small, round yellow one and a tiny polyamory flag. He’s also covered in ash - even more so than Jimmy - to the point where his boots, sweater, and handkerchief are stained with it, and are almost more grey than their original colors.

ID 3: simple digital sketches of the above characters. From left to right they are: Jimmy laying down with his head bowed, and Tango standing on his tiptoes to lean against Jimmy’s head. Both their eyes are closed and their foreheads are pressed together. The next is of Tango with his goggles on and looking confused at the map book, which is folded in half in his hands. Jimmy is leaning over his shoulder to look at the map as well. Two question marks float by Tango’s head. The last is of Jimmy standing upright, one of his talons held up near his chest. In his talons he’s holding Tango who seems surprised and is kind of doing that thing that cats do when you pick them up under the arms. This sketch is captioned with the word “hold”. There’s also a small bit of wing from a drawing that’s been cropped out in the corner. /End ID 3

/End IDs]

Ok rambling time!

So it’s set in a that was similar to the modern day, but after in a post-apocalyptic world (recent enough that they both would’ve known the world before). Not a zombie apocalypse or anything, though. There may be Foes but probably not.

I’m not exactly sure what the apocalypse that happened actually is yet, but it’s left the world an ash-covered wasteland with few ruins and even fewer survivors (survivors being organisms in general, not just humans). I want the landscape to be kind of surreal and bizarre, but I haven’t decided if that’s because of the apocalypse or not. Maybe it was just Like That lol.

Anyway, one thing you may want to know more about, is why the hell is Jimmy a giant bird? And the answer is: I like giant birds. In all seriousness though, he’s cursed! Don’t know why. He was a normal ass dude. Now he’s a bird.

Tango might also be cursed? Depends on how edgy I end up wanting this to be lol. He might be an undead wraith or something who knows.

#art #solidaritygaming #jimmy solidarity #jimmy solidarity fanart #tangotek #tangotek fanart #team rancher #rancher duo #team rancher fanart #fanart #honestly I’m SUPER proud of these?? #especially because I vividly remember struggling to draw birds for the longest time #and I can just? do that now? that’s wild to me. I guess that’s practice for ya #ALSO HUMANS #I fucking hate drawing humans #even simple little chibis like in the third drawing are annoying to draw for me #but tango turned out SO GOOD??? HOW #and more than that I ENJOYED drawing him??????? #if you know me at all that should be absolutely astounding #I have hated drawing humans literally forever #like genuinely my entire life #but fanart forces you to draw things your don’t normally sometimes #and sometimes. you draw a human and you like it :)