#JOHN STOP FORGETTING THINGS WE NEED TO BE PAST THIS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettys0bbing · 3 months

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you could feel his eyes for the thirtieth time in the past hour. you look down at where he’s sitting on the van floor next to your leg, shooting him another warning glare. all jj could do is look at you with that shit eating grin that makes your stomach flutter. “are you sure you’re not lost bro? i feel like we’ve gone down this road about fifty times.” pope asks john b, who’s driving in the front. kiara is distracted, trying to find the directions sarah had sent them. “why are we going to some kook assholes party anyways?” jj asks the car, right before sneaking another glance at your tits.

“sarah asked us to, plus free beer.” john b shrugs as you feel jj’s head tilt onto your leg. he presses chaste kisses along your knee, obviously bored and upset about their destination. the car stops and you realize you’ve arrived. you move to grab your phone and realize it’s gone? you look around for a second before looking up. “i can’t find my phone. i’m gonna look for it and meet you guys inside.” you sigh, not even excited for the night. you look around for a little while, when you feel a hand on your shoulder. you jump before looking back.

“fuck jj!” you cry out, trying to keep your voice down when you realize it’s him. he laughs at you while crawling into the twinkie, closing the door behind him. “you ever find your phone?” he asks, settling on the floor next to you. “nope! don’t even wanna be here and now i probably left my phone all the way back at the chateau.” you whine, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you poor thing.” he chuckles, leaning forward and pulling a joint out of his pocket. “smoke your troubles away?” he takes a lighter from the cup holder up front and sparks the end, taking a hit before passing it over to you.

you take a small hit, letting yourself relax. jj moves around for a moment before pulling your phone out of his pocket. you gasp and jokingly hit his chest. “asshole! i was freaking the fuck out!” you glare at him, taking your phone and taking another hit. “wanted to get you alone and it felt like the best way to do that.” he grins at you, sliding a hand up your knee. “get me alone to do what?” you question, handing the joint back over to him. “make you feel better.” he mumbles, completely focusing on running his hands along the inside of your legs. you open them further, letting him run his hands higher, ducking underneath your skirt. he leans forward as you feed him a hit, moving so he’s in front of you. “you still in a mood princess?” he asks, moving his thumb to apply light pressure on your clit. you close your eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling. “maybe i can feel the grumpiness leaving.” you say, leaning your hips into his touch.

jj grins, hooking his fingers on the edge of your panties before pulling them down. he adjusts your hips so you’re sitting with your pussy facing him. “all for me? always forget how wet you are when you’re high.” he says, leaning down and kissing your inner thighs. he starts to kiss everywhere except for where you need him before leaning up to look at you. “perfect tits too, goddamn.” he leans up to kiss the tops of them, unable to reach more because of the shirt you’re wearing. he takes them in his hands, massaging them for a moment before reaching into your shirt. he pulls them out, adjusting your clothes so you’re still comfortable. you bite your lip, brain going fuzzy while you watch him getting ready to touch you. “jay, please. i need you.” you whine, pulling his attention away from where he was leaving a mark on your chest.

“need me yeah? where do you need me baby?” he teases, already leaning down and placing open mouthed kisses on your thighs. you lean into his touch, whining impatiently. “need you to eat me out. please jay.” you look at him, a begging tone to your voice. you barely get the words out before you feel his mouth connect to your clit. the force of the suction makes you throw your head back, moaning loud enough that anyone passing by could hear. “tastes so good.” he says against, a mischievous glint in his eye.

you grab onto his hair, steadying yourself. “god jay.” you moan, feeling his fingers teasing you as his mouth focuses on your clit. he sucks harder, thrusting two fingers inside you. “can feel you clenching around me baby. cmon, let go for me.” he coaxes, speeding his movements up. you can feel your muscles tensing under his touch, your vision getting blurry for a moment. you finish on his tongue, breathing heavily as your legs twitch slightly. you sit and breathe for a moment, breath hitching as he slides his fingers out of you and sits up. he taps your lips, signaling to open them. you listen, parting your lips so he can slide his fingers into them and allow you to taste yourself. you stare into his eyes as you move your tongue around his fingers, watching as he stares at you with a slight smirk on his face.

“are you feeling better about the party now?” jj asks, a cocky tone to his words. you nod, staring at him with delight as he fixes your clothes for you. he leans in for a kiss and you immediately sink into it. he pulls away faster than you’d like, moving towards the door and getting out before holding his hand out for you. you take it and exit the twinkie, walking up to the house with him. “have a good time in there and i’ll give you and your perfect pussy an even better time when we’re back at the chateau.” he whispers with a wink before disappearing into the crowd.

#mayspeaks! ˚✧₊⁎#obx x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank x reader #obx #obx smut #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank smut #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x pogue!reader

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months

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Concerning Habits

Dean and Sam Winchester x little sister!reader, Castiel x teen!reader (platonic obviously)

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you’re too embarrassed to share one of your habits with your brothers.

“Would you stop moving around back there?” Your oldest brother Dean demanded. “You’re shaking the whole car, just go to sleep.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do,” you grumbled, changing positions again as you struggled to grasp onto the sleep that’d been evading you for the past hour.

“Since when are you such an insomniac anyway?” Sam asked absentmindedly from the passengers seat, where he was pouring over one of the Men of Letters books.

“I don’t know,” you lied. You knew exactly why you’d been tossing and turning for the past hour, but you’d rather throw yourself out of the Impala then tell your brothers why.

Truthfully, it was kind of stupid. When you’d packed your bag to come on the hunt with your brothers, you’d forgotten to pack Jasper, the teddy bear you’d had almost since birth. You hated that you couldn’t get to sleep without him, but you’d tried before and it never worked. It was a little comfort in a world where comfort was few and far between.

You were sure that there were two reasons that you needed him to sleep. The first was more of a tangible reason; you’d gotten used to holding something every night for your whole life, so to be without it threw you off. The other reason was more personal; having that bear was like having a reminder of your whole family with you. Your mother had bought it for you, John had sewed an eyepatch on his face when one of his little plastic eyes fell off, and Sam and Dean had sewed up rips and tears in the thing countless times. Without him, you felt…alone. Like the little pieces of your family that you were desperate to remember were gone.

Of course, this was way too much to dump on Sam and Dean, who were just trying to enjoy a peaceful drive. So, you gave up on your useless attempts at sleep, and instead grabbed your headphones and turned on one of your playlists. You made sure to keep your phone under the small blanket over you, not wanting to alert Sam and Dean to your restlessness.

“Wake me when it’s my turn to drive,” Sam told Dean, and you couldn’t help but be jealous at the way he fell asleep almost immediately.

Four hours later, you had exhausted both your body and your playlist, yet still sleep wouldn’t come. There was still over six hours left in the drive, and you were sure that you were going to go insane.

When the Impala pulled over and Dean and Sam switched seats, you noticed Sam staring at you.

“Why are you awake?” He asked. Dean glanced back to look at you.

“I…” you didn’t have a good answer, so you didn’t.

“Did you sleep at all?” Dean asked, and when you ignored this too, he began to look alarmed. “Alright, what’s up? You need to sleep.”

“I’m trying,” your voice came out in a mumble.

“For the past four hours?” Sam didn’t sound convinced. “You’re either trying too hard, or not hard enough.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Why?” Dean asked. “You looked half dead when we left for this trip, I thought you’d be out in five minutes flat.”

“I just…I left something at the bunker,” you slowly sat up, giving up on even your fake sleep. “And I need it.”

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Dean demanded. “If you need it-“

“I didn’t realize until it was too late,” you sighed. “And-and I don’t need need it.”

“What’d you forget?” Sam asked, confused.

When you didn’t answer, Dean turned in his seat to face you.

“Kid? C’mon, talk to me, is it like medication or something? I might have some sleeping pills with me.”

You shook your head, feeling dumber than ever.

“Not-not pills, just…” you lowered your eyes, resisting the urge to hide under your blanket. “Just something that helps me sleep.”

“How about this,” Sam sighed, trying to stall Dean’s rising frustration. “How about I call Cas, and he can get it for you?”

“I don’t wanna bother Cas,” you said quietly.

“Hey Cas,” you flinched in surprise at Dean’s sudden outburst. “We’re on I94, mile marker…78, and we could use some hel-“ Dean stopped talking when Cas appeared suddenly next to you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ask her,” Dean gestured at you, and you felt your face heat up, your ears turning pink. It would’ve been embarrassing enough for your brothers to find out about Jasper, but an actual angel?

“Dean-“

“We’re gonna be on this hunt for days, I’m not about to let you just not sleep for days, so tell the angel what you need and get it over with.”

“You want me to help you sleep?” Cas asked, trying to understand why he’d been summoned.

“No, it’s just…I-I left something at home, and I need it to sleep, and since you can like, teleport…” your voice trailed off when you saw realization light up Cas’s face.

“Alright, what is it you want me to get?”

“It’s…” you couldn’t admit it, you just couldn’t. You tried to skirt around the answer. “It’s in my room…”

“You might have to be more specific,” Cas said slowly, his brows drawn together.

“It’s a bear, ok? A stuffed animal bear, and it’s on my bed,” you’d given up completely on both your attempts to keep the truth from them and any inclination to look at anyone in the car. You’d buried your head in the blanket that you held in your hands, and didn’t look up even when you heard the gentle whoosh of Castiel leaving.

“Kid, you ok?” Sam asked softly, to which you merely nodded.

“Here you go.”

At the sound of Cas’s voice, you finally looked up to see him holding Jasper out to you.

“I don’t understand. You seem distressed,” Castiel observed as you pulled Jasper into your arms.

“I’m not distressed, I’m embarrassed,” you huffed. “It’s…it’s just so stupid.”

“I’ve observed that many humans have sentimental attachments to objects, I don’t understand why this is different,” Castiel cocked his head.

“Stuffed animals are for kids,” you mumbled.

“So?” Dean’s voice from the front seat surprised you.

“So? You don’t think it’s stupid?”

“Kid, we all have our…” Dean searched for a word. “Quirks. And considering some of the issues me and Sammy have had,” his wry smile made you relax slightly, “I think ‘needing a stuffed animal’ is pretty low on our Concerning Habits list.”

“You really don’t think it’s that dumb?” You asked.

“Honestly, it’s below Sam’s haircut on my list of weird things in our family. Far below,” Dean scoffed, and you felt yourself relax completely.

“Ok, enough,” you grinned at the sound of Sam’s grumpy tone. “Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?”

You finally settled down in your seat, smiling at Cas and thanking him quietly. Once he vanished, you stretched out completely in the back seat, and within minutes you were fast asleep, your bear tucked tightly under your arm.

Because you fell asleep so quickly, you missed the way Dean turned in his chair to smile at you, and the whispered conversation he shared with Sam.

“You know, that kid is adorable.”

Sam laughed softly, glancing back at you before turning back to focus on the road.

“Yeah, I know.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean and sam #dean winchester x you #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #winchesters x reader #dean x sister #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #winchesters x sister #winchester x reader #the winchester brothers #spn sam winchester #castiel

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everythingelseisextra · 9 months

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David and Goliath

Part Sixteen: Cain (Tommy's POV)

Description: Tommy fucks up. :) Warnings: references to rape, references to suicide, language, minor self harm Word Count: 3490 Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @ttaechi @weaponizedvirtue @Majesticcmey @Optimisticsandwichgladiator @zablife @princesssterek @mm0thie @callsignvenus @ay0nha @mgdixon @fairytale07 @dreamy-caramel @ce1iat @algae-tm @dragonsondragons @trentknd @nothingofsimplicity @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey @globetrotter28 @look-at-the-soul @notalxx @chaengist

Arrow House sits in silence, only half sane. The ghosts of the Shelby family haunt the entrance, their shouts echoing in your ears. The commotion in the entryway reached you, even as you sat in the master bedroom, and Polly’s cries and Arthur’s yells and John’s indignant roars fill the quiet room. You close your eyes, and you can imagine the police, Moss in their midst, forcing them into the darkened, freezing cells that you yourself sat in only a few days ago. And Tommy at the edge of it, watching his family taken from him as a consequence of his own actions, an unforgivable choice he made.

You expect him to join you when he’s ready. It tugs on you, the sense that you need to protect him from himself, but you have to trust that his ability to fight his own mind will hold out. You trust that your presence in the house is reason enough for him to keep the gun in its drawer.

You think that this will be another thing he buries so deep that he forgets there’s anything underground. This will be too painful for him to keep in his hands, and it will trickle out between the cracks of his fingers until there is nothing to hold. His family is his core, the glowing ember of warmth that lives next to the heart he likes to pretend is stone. Now, he’s lost them. Now, all he has is you.

It’s some time before he enters the room. He doesn’t look at you, just sweeps past, heading into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and water runs softly from behind it. You wait in silence, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes, listening to the impure silence. The water stops, the door creaks open, and his footsteps slowly walk across the room. You open your eyes to find him heading towards the door, eyes set on the wooden floor in front of him. Your eyes narrow. There’s a hesitation to each step he takes, a slight pause, a tilt of his head. You’re waiting for him. He’s waiting for you.

“Tommy.” You stand and walk over to him, your bare feet cold on the wood. Part of you wants to inject some playfulness into your words, but the rest of you knows that, after something like this, that might be his breaking point. “Hey, come sit. Take a second to talk to me.”

His gaze stays on the floor, but, almost imperceptibly, he nods. You step back and lead him over to the chair you’d been sitting in, in front of a small desk that you’d claimed as yours the past few days. You sit on the bed, facing him, hands on either side of you. Soft light flows from the window next to you, and the sunrays seem to gentle your gazes on each other, creating a sort of barrier. It’s warm on your face and reflects in his eyes, which refuse to look at you.

“I would give you a pep-talk,” you start, nervousness slowing your words. “I would tell you that you’ve had high highs and low lows, and that the pendulum will swing back up again, but I won’t. I respect you too much for that. You and I both know that life tends to kick you while you’re down. We know that there’s no such thing as rock bottom, it’s always possible to go lower. So, all I’ll say is this; I’m here. I’m not leaving. As complicated as I’m learning your life is, I’d like to try to be simple together. If you want to be alone, that’s okay. If you don’t, I can be with you.”

He leans back in his chair, sighing. Exhaustion tightens his skin over his bones, his face drawn, his eyes a little glassy. “You’re not leaving.”

“No.” You furrow your brow, confused. “Why would I?”

“My family is gone. My boy is back. I’m a new man.” He slides a small metal container from his pocket, opens it, and pulls out a cigarette. “I have no room in my life for a woman who sets no store for a man’s needs.”

You nod slowly, almost incredulous. “You’re telling me that, after all this, you want me to leave because I won’t fuck you.”

He inclines his head, reaching out to offer you a cigarette. Your jaw clenches and you ignore his hand. Your next words are clipped. “My horses are literally in your stables. I’m not sure what kind of crisis move you’re making here, but it feels like one that’ll be… how should I say this in a way you’ll understand? Bad for business.”

He lights his cigarette and takes a long drag. He speaks on the exhale. “Bad for business is a woman I can’t explain living in my house. You’re not a whore, you’re not my wife, you’re not the mother of my son.”

You chuckle. “So you’re telling me I either become your whore, marry you, or become a nanny for Charles.”

“I’m telling you to leave.”

“And then, months later, hear that you’ve blown your brains out, because no one, including me, would pick up the phone.”

“Curly will start moving your horses in the morning. I’ve covered the cost of transportation.”

“How kind of you.”

“In the meantime, you’ll pack. You’ll prepare yourself to leave.” He wiggles his cigarette at you, eyes dull.

“And what if I say no?” You lean forward, almost mocking.

“If you say no, then, unfortunately, I may have to get the authorities involved.”

“‘Yes, hello, I’d like to report that a woman who I said I’d protect and invited to live with me is living in my house. Has she committed a crime? Yes, she won’t fuck me when I want, because I’m a teenaged boy who needs to get off every thirty minutes.” You let anger slide into your voice, let it bite. “Jesus Christ, listen to yourself.”

He blinks blankly at you, then rises with a soft groan. “There’s work to be done. Please collect your things.”

“Thomas.” You stand, hands curling into fists, then relaxing. “You send me away now, you’re sending me back to the life I used to live. If you understand that, you’re as bad as the men who sold and raped me.”

His eyebrows raise in an infuriatingly bewildered expression, then he shakes his head. “I am. I apologize if that wasn’t clear from the start.”

—

Night falls. Fog fills the air around you, rises from the warm bodies of the horses. Unlike your own barn, Tommy’s is lit, and you can see the confused, wide, liquid eyes staring at you from within the stalls. Draco nickers quietly, throwing his head. He’s been your rock, your shoulder to cry on, the only comfort to you on nights where your body felt as battered and broken and abused as it had during those awful years of horror.

It’s not him you stand with, though. It’s not his mane you bury your tears in, not his warm body you lean against to carry your shivering weight. Iris had one more month of recovery before he would be able to be ridden again, and now, you have to apologize to him. You have to apologize to all of them, in time, for being unable to care for them. For forfeiting the safety you thought you had. For failing.

You would be brought back to your own property in an hour. Your horses would trickle in after you. You’d feed them, slip back into the routine of caring for them, and the timer on your life would start to count down. You could fight. You would fight. You’d fight tooth and nail, use every bit of strength built up over years of manual labor, shoot straight and fast and confident, and still, you know you’ll lose.

Iris turns his head to blink at you as you stand by his side, leaning your weight on his shoulder. You wipe your face of tears and draw yourself up, pulling your shoulders back and squaring your legs to your hips like a soldier. You stand strong. Right now, you’re a survivor. Your quiet claim to life is that you fought for it. Like David with Goliath, you stood against a gargantuan opponent and managed to live to tell the tale. And, here you are, with your bags packed, ready to walk yourself back to that Goliath and allow him to smash your skull. You have no slingshot. You have no rock. There is no God on your side.

Your fingers gently pull through the knots in Iris’ mane. You should be angry. There should be a burning anger in you that threatens to overwhelm. You should feel it in your bones, in your heart and veins, and you should act in some sort of way on it. You should set fire to his garden, release his horses to the wild.

Truth is, you don’t know how to be angry with someone. All your life, you’ve been taught to stand down, to take whatever comes without question, and to continue despite it all. You’ve been trained to cower, to take each hit without protest. A cornered animal will always bite, but an abused pet will flinch away, fearful, all the teeth beaten out of it. You weren’t meant to fight as hard as you do.

You close your eyes, and like Tommy said for you to do, you prepare to leave.

Your body has a master and it is not you, and it is not God. Caged by a twisted form of humanity, you will be an animal at a zoo. You will gawked and stared at, poked and prodded, and, behind the scenes, you will be used for all your worth. This body you were born in ripples with scars from the years of prostitution and mental torture, and it’s a cold sort of hell. So much touch and so little care. You are only worth so much. You know the literal price of your life. You know how much this body of yours sells for.

When you open your eyes, the world is in black and white. You will not see the blood they rip from your veins. You will not see the color of their bare skin. Your hand moves from Iris’ mane to your upper arm, and you press down on it, your fingernails biting into your skin. There’s an echo of pain somewhere in you, but your skin is so thick that it’s separate, a step away from your consciousness. You will not feel the penetration. You will not feel the hands grabbing at your flesh, you will not feel their bodies pressed against you. A horse calls and the sound bounces away from you, not quite touching you, and you take a deep breath. You will not hear their moans or the heated lies they tell you in the dark.

This body that is all you have will no longer be yours. It is only a matter of time.

The rest of the night crawls past you as a blur. You know you are steady. You know that you step with purpose, your head held high, with no connection with what you feel or how you will survive this. You lift your suitcase and walk down the elegant, well-lit stairs, the portraits of Tommy’s late wife staring down at you with a gaze that tells you that you are lesser. You haven’t seen him since he left the master bedroom. There’s a murmur of emotion in you when you think of him, but you brush past it in your mind. There is no room for you in his life.

A car waits out front for you. You take a deep breath and look up at the stars. When you were younger, before the world turned against you, you thought you would reach out and touch them even if it burned. Now, you know you could, and the fire would eat away at you, and you would feel nothing. You thought you’d been as close to death as you could be without dying, but this emptiness in you, this blurred vision, this hollow chest is proof that you can stand hand in hand and not die. Maybe, you think, maybe you would rather die than become a commodity once again. There is a gun in the kitchen drawer.

You slip into the back seat of the car, and, at least, it is warm. The driver glances back at you in the mirror. He says something that washes over you and away, and you turn to look out the window, then twist to look back at Arrow House. A single light shines from the drawing room, the curtain pulled back, and you know he is watching. Despicable and traitorous, he watches you crawl back to a life you said you would never live again.

You turn back as the car begins to move out of the driveway. You close your eyes and a tear rolls out. You sit in the darkness and shrink into your mind, sitting in the back of it, watching through as your body breathes and shifts and lives apart from you, without you. You wipe the tear and, eyes still closed, you melt into the atmosphere and become nothing.

The car jerks to a stop and you open your eyes. The driver lets out a slow breath and glances back at you, then looks back through the windshield.

Lit by the headlights in sharp relief, Tommy stands, breathing hard as if he’d run to stop you. You watch him, expectation in his eyes, and you see a spoiled little boy who enjoys playing games.

“Keep driving,” you say, voice hoarse.

“Ma’am, I can’t. He’s—”

“Go around.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hesitantly, the driver inches the car forward, turning to move around Tommy, who’s eyes widen slightly.

He reaches underneath his coat and pulls out his gun, pointing it at the driver.

“Ma’am, I—” Panic fills the driver’s voice. “I’m sorry, this isn’t—”

“It’s okay. Stop the car.”

He does as you say, and, slowly, you open the door and step out into the night.

You stay where you are in the darkness, letting Tommy stay in the light. You wait for him to speak first.

“You forgot something.” His voice carries over the sound of the engine.

You cross your arms, trying to warm yourself from the cold. “Oh, did I? Please, enlighten me.”

“Come into the light, and I’ll show you.”

“No.”

He looks up at the black sky, then steps out into the darkness, coming within a few feet of you. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small square box, rounded corners, velvet wrapped. Your heart goes cold. He opens it and holds it out. A sleek, silver ring glints in the light from the headlights, golden highlights sparking. You shiver and look up at him.

“Not a whore, not a mother.” He smiles faintly. “Yet.”

You slap him. Not hard, but enough to make your point. Then, without a word, you turn and walk down the long driveway back to the house. In your periphery, you watch him reach up and touch his cheek where you hit him, then slowly close the box and place it back in his pocket.

—

He waits an hour before he seeks you out. You’re curled in the fetal position, lying in one of the spare bedrooms. You stare blankly at the wall across from you. There’s no color to your vision. The pillow has long since dried from your tears.

He knocks on the door, waits a full minute for a response. When he doesn’t get one, he quietly lets himself in. His footsteps are bare and light. He sits on the opposite side of the bed, sighing, and you close your eyes again. You’re not sure you want to hear what he has to say.

“I’m not a good man.” His voice is quiet, almost shameful, and he speaks to the ground, faint to you. “I’ve made that clear tonight. You never heard about me cause you were never in Birmingham. If you had, you’d know, I’m not a good man.”

You clench your jaw and stay quiet, wait for him to say what he thinks will make up for the pain and terror he’s caused.

He clicks his tongue, almost wincing. “Lost my family today. Decided that meant I needed a fresh start. Needed to move away from all this— this Peaky Blinders shit and focus on more gentlemanly matters. I felt possessed to get away from it all. From any reminder of it. That included you.” He takes a slow breath, sighing it out. “You reminded me, as you should have, that a better man would never send you away. I would be sending you and your horses to death or worse. It took me far too long to remember that, and for that, I am sorry.”

You open your eyes, blinking hard, trying to stop tears from rolling out once more.

“You saved my life. I can’t return the favor, not in the same way, but I can preserve yours. That I will do. I won’t try to send you away again. I understand now how misguided that was.” You feel his gaze on your back and you try to smooth out your breathing, steady yourself so he can’t see that you’re human, that you’re affected by him.

He’s quiet for a moment, then, voice weak and childish, he manages two words you never truly expected him to say. “I’m sorry.”

You sniffle and croak out a short, shaky sentence. “Am I worth anything to you?”

“Yes.” His response comes immediately. “You are.”

“Then why don’t you act like it?”

“I told you that first night. Something in me has been broken since the war. Maybe since my mum. I don’t have the words for it. You’ve seen it, now. You’ve seen it.”

You nod shakily. “You were ready to watch me drive off to my death.”

“I would never have let you leave the driveway.”

“But you let me think you would.” A tear leaks out and you angrily wipe it away. “You let me think that you cared so little about me that you would watch me go back to a life I couldn’t survive.”

“You know what I think?” He shifts towards you, turning his body so he faces your back.. “I think that you’re the first person to see the fucking rotten part of me and still stay in this house.”

“I have nowhere else to go, Tom.” Your voice breaks. “You realize that. I have nowhere else to go, and you can’t decide whether you want me or not, and I’m worthless unless I sleep with you or marry you.”

His voice drops to a mere murmur. “I want you.”

“You didn’t an hour ago.”

“I told you I was sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t enough!” You sit up, fully crying now, and face him. “You fucked up, and I don’t know where there is to go from here.”

“I do. I know where to go.” He reaches back into his pocket and pulls out the ring box. “I—”

“Stop! Stop with the fucking ring! I don’t want to belong to you, I don’t want—”

“Listen. You can say no. Just fucking listen.” His hand shakes slightly as he holds it in his lap. “I’m not a good man. I try to be, but I’m not. But you— you make me think I can be if I try. That’s a rare fucking thing. You will never belong to me. You will never belong to anyone. It’s a shot in the fucking dark, and things like this come and go as they please, but if I can, if I could, I’d like to be that shot in the dark. If it’s up to me, it’ll be us in the end. I’m not a good man, but I promise, I will be good to you and for you. Love is far, far away, but it gets closer when I’m with you. So, I’m asking you, because I need you with me, to look past the way I hurt you and see that I do care for you. I do think you’re worth something.” He reaches out and gently wipes a tear from your cheek, hand trembling. “I’m asking for a selfish thing. I’m asking for you to see the blood on my hands and love me anyway. I’m asking you to marry me.”

He is broken promises and shaking fists, and you know, he did not mean to be cruel, but that doesn’t mean he was kind to you. So, you take a breath, trying to stay steady, and you open your mouth to reply.

#only the wild ones #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaker blinders fandom #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders fanfic

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girls-alias · 4 months

Text

The Silent Type - Dean Winchester

Title: The Silent Type - Dean Winchester

Words: 1,325

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader (Somewhat platonic)

TW: Swearing, arguing, violence.

Prompt:

I saw the clip of Sam arguing with John and it triggered me. 😂

I rolled my eyes as I approached the arguing boys. We were stood at the side of the road as Sam screamed at John. The truth is I feel the same. John has been nothing but a pain in the ass since he turned back up. He seems to tolerate me because I'm naturally quiet. I've been hunting with Sam and Dean for a while now. I was hunting with Dean for a little while before Sam came back from Stanford.

Dean and I have a unique bond. A medium we were talking to said we were soul mates or twin flames. I don't really understand it but I feel it. I love Dean. I love him more than I love anything and I don't care if I never get to kiss him, I will be happy if he's smiling. The real smile that normally only I can give him. I know he feels it too, we openly tell each other we love each other and Sam still, even after almost two years, doesn't know if we're dating. To be honest, I don't think me and Dean know sometimes. We do couply things, like dates and cuddling and constantly being together but we don't kiss or have sex. It's just weird but I'm comfortable in it.

I think Dean and I work so well because I know I can tell him anything and he can tell me anything. I know all about his past and he knows all about mine. We seem like we can read each other, I always know how he's feeling even when we're apart. The time that came to mind was intense. I had woken up in the middle of the night, nothing had disturbed me, I hadn't had a nightmare I just woke up. Quick and startled. I was staying in a motel away from the boys while a wound healed. I called Dean instantly, and as soon as he answered I knew he was crying. We stayed on the phone all night. He told me everything that had upset him and I reassured him and calmed him down until he fell asleep on the phone to me.

Dean seemed to look at me as he stood beside Sam and John. He looked fed up with the argument, wanting it to be over. I sighed softly knowing they weren't hurting each other they were hurting Dean. I listened in as anger started to rise inside me that they were upsetting Dean. Dean seemed to glance at me, somehow knowing I was growing angry. He studied me a little before being distracted by the argument. Dean's afraid of me when I'm angry.

It's rare I ever get angry but when I do I'm the silent type. I don't scream or make threats. I stay silent until something knocks me over the edge and once I'm over the edge I usually am blacked out angry until Dean stops me. Dean learned slowly that he was the only thing that calmed me down, he had always been afraid to approach me when I was that angry but now he knows he can wrap his arms around me and I'll calm down within a second. He just has power over me and he says I do the same. He can be on the verge of having a mental breakdown but if I walk into the room he forgets about it. His mind goes completely blank.

I listened as Sam shouted at John, his anger coming out with ease as he raised his voice and his words were laced with venom.

"Last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous to be together. Now out of the blue you need our help." Sam explained getting his anger started. "No, obviously something big is going on and we want to know what's going on," Sam shouted, not backing down. My eyes glared at John waiting for his response, Dean growing annoyed and upset by the argument.

"Get back in the car," John instructed but Sam almost scoffed.

"No," He exclaimed but John's jaw clenched.

"I said get back in the damn car," John threatened standing closer. Sam didn't back down.

"Yeah, and I said no," Sam said, the venom in his tone almost suffocating the air.

"Yeah, alright. You made your point tough guy. Look, we're all tired, we can talk about this later," Dean explained before forcing himself between them and pushing Sam back forcefully. I couldn't move as my anger seemed to paralyse me.

"This is why I left in the first place," Sam muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?" John asked annoyed, and approached them. My body moved without thinking, staying beside John.

"You heard me," Sam bit back.

"Yeah, you left. Your brother and I needed you and you walked away- You walked away," John argued, his voice raising as his anger escaped him.

"You're the one who said don't come back, Dad. You're the one who closed that door. You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore," Sam shouted, they quickly gripped each other. Ready to start hitting. Dean forced his way between them.

"Stop it! Stop it. That's enough," Dean shouted as he managed to pry them off each other.

"I didn't raise you like this," John commented. I didn't have to look at Dean to know how he was going to be looking. His sorrow clouded his eyes, hurt furrowing his eyebrows, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he begged it not to quiver, tears threatening his eyes. I saw red.

I punched John in the side of the face. His cheekbone was possibly fractured from the force. Adrenaline spiked to the point I was blacked out, doing things without thinking. John hit the floor with a thud, holding his cheek as he looked up at me startled.

"You didn't raise him, Dean did. Dean did everything for both of you." I boomed, standing over John as he started to look at me annoyed but fear was in his eyes. "You ever disrespect Dean like that again and next time I won't hold back." I threatened, spitting the words as if the thought of it sickened me. "Either apologise to Dean, the man who was a child and was still a better father than you. Or get up and drive away before I'm cleaning your blood off my boots." I practically growled.

"You think I'm scared-" He couldn't finish his sentence as I raised my foot, soon bringing it down on his balls to squeeze them between my boot and the gravel road. He squealed, grunting as he seethed in pain.

"That wasn't an apology," I instructed, He gulped, and glared at me as he breathed quickly, anger rising in him. He looked at Dean, and I could see him smirking proudly beside me.

"I'm sorry, Dean." He said simply but I pushed my boot down a little harder. He exclaimed in pain quickly. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I left you to raise Sam. I'm sorry I've been a shitty father. I appreciate everything you've done for this family." John rushed. I looked at Dean, and he bowed his head to me letting me know he was happy with the response. I lifted my foot, taking a step away from John.

"Get up, you look pathetic," I spat, rolling my eyes as I walked away to get back in the Impala. Dean rushed to hug me from behind. I melted into the hug instantly. My whole body calmed and I felt safe in his arms. He spun me around to face him, cuddling me back into his chest. I smiled as I hugged him back, his scent intoxicating me.

"I love you," He whispered as he kissed the top of my head. I smiled a little brighter at his words. We really were made for each other.

Masterlist

Working On

#fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean #dean winchester fic #platonic #y/n #anger issues #anger #overprotective #twin flame #soulmates #i love you

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nrdmssgs · 5 months

Text

Liar

Masterlist Smut Pairing: Captain John Price X reader TWs: no

"Should we even..." Your voice is barely audible from the water hitting the sink.

You catch a glimpse of your own reflection right before you: eyes half shut, hands bringing him closer despite your own doubts, lips deliciously parted. John stays outside the sheaf of light, provided by the only lamp in the bathroom. His lips crush against the back of your neck repetitively, but that doesn't fulfill his hunger. So he bites down - not hard enough to break your skin, but more than enough to make the world around you grow hazy, as you melt.

"Should you have teased f`so long?" Prices voice reverberates deep in his chest, and you don't even hear his answer - you feel it with your back pressed against him.

He is not incorrect - there were months of playing around, friendly teasing bordering with flirting. So now it looks like a time for payback. John couldn't care less, it was at your mutual friends house, in the middle of the party. He needs to feed you your own medicine.

Until your brain can't form a single thought.

Until you realize no one else can put you in so deep.

So his hand leaves your neck and reaches down to press you against his bulge so that you feel how hard you made him. And if your knees didn't fail you before - you are now so weak, that only big hands are keeping you from collapsing.

"Not here," you mewl, turning your face back to him. Only to be met with a messy, hungry kiss.

"Here." And his tongue slides past your lips, getting a good taste, taking your breath away. He has to force himself to stop kissing you for the next word to be said.

"Now."

The water is still running down the sink, but all you hear is his heavy breath. You're so needy for his touch, that you have to bite down your lip, to not make a sound, when he finally slides your underwear to the side.

***

You wake up, breathing shakily. That goddamn dream - it's been a few months already, since it happened, and that dream still haunts you. It feels nice to wake up to such a dream at your cozy bed back at home. But to wake up next to him? In a safe house, where you and his Task Force had to wait, until the new intel on enemy disposition gets a confirmation from your scouts? This was a torture.

You two barely talked about what happened at your friend's place, but decided, that you both were rushing things too much. You were trying to keep personal business as far from work as possible. And for now, John Price wasn't your old friend - he was a colleague. So you clutched your teeth and did everything to keep the memories of him being so intoxicating and overwhelming away. But you just couldn't control your dreams.

You hold your breath and listen intensely to surrounding sounds: distant voices - coming from other rooms, howl of the wind outside the window and Johns calm breath. He seems to be sleeping, which is a good thing - you wouldn't want to embarrass yourself with your neediness here and now.

You just need to cool your head down, splash your face with cold water - anything to forget the feeling of his hands on your body. So you carefully release your hand from under the blanket, grab the edge of the bed and try to pull yourself towards it in order to slip out unnoticed.

"Going somewhere, darling?" His bear paw lands right on your stomach and drags you back under the blanket.

"I've slept enough, I'll go switch for a watch with one of your men, Price."

"M-m-m-m-m, liar." His warm breath rolling against your skin makes you shiver.

"Ok-ok, you got me, Captain. Bad dream. I don't think, I'll be able to fall back to sleep, so I really gotta go."

"Bad dream you say?" Price clicks his tongue. His hand leaves your tummy and snakes down your hip.

"So it was a bad dream, that made you roll over in bed?" John grips your upper thigh gently yet authoritatively.

"`twas a bad dream, that made you pant and whisper my name?" It feels more like being trapped in captivity to predator's grip: he is not yet trying to feed on you, but he is not letting you anywhere away.

"Just a bad dream... that made you grind against me so deliciously?" He guides your thigh up his hip, spreading you, pressing you closer, and 'demonstrating' to you the fruits of your labor.

And as you try to calm down the rushing heart and hide the fact, that the blood is surging to your cheeks, you mumble some excuses incoherently. Only for John to quietly chuckle, enjoying, how worked up you get from just a dream about him.

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specialagentlokitty · 5 months

Text

Sherlock/john x reader - you need this

May I request a story with Sherlock and John worried about clumsy reader? Maybe they are just sleep deprived and need a cup of tea and a good long nap? All platonic please. Thank you! - @their-love 💜

Padding into the living room, you stood there without a word.

Sherlock said nothing, but John set his laptop down, and he turned his attention to you.

“Is everything alright?”

“They can’t remember why they came in here, it’s a frequent thing.” Sherlock said.

You shrugged a little.

“Yeah but it’s fine, did I get a parcel today?” You asked.

“Yeah, it’s just over here.”

John got up, making his way to the corner of the room before coming back over.

You were heading to meet him halfway, tripping over your own two feet slightly before regaining your balance, taking the parcel.

“You good?” John asked.

“Huh? Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just tripped?”

You waved your hand dismissively, making your way over to the couch, you bumped into the table, but said nothing as you sat down.

Setting your parcel on the table, you searched around trying to find something to open it with.

“Under the sofa.” Sherlock said.

You reached under, pulling out a box cutter and looked at him confused.

“You left it there the other day.”

“Oh yeah…”

You went to open your parcel and Sherlock set the book down that he was reading.

“You’re not usually this confused (Y/N).” John said gently.

“Eh.” You said.

Sherlock leant back in his chair, carefully studying what you were doing.

“Your hands are trembling, you have dark circles under your eyes. You have walked into everything going so far and you can’t even remember where you left your favourite box cutter.”

“We all forget things sometimes Sherlock.”

He shook his head.

“Not you. For the past three nights I’ve heard you moving about upstairs, then during the day you’re down here.”

John glanced between you and Sherlock.

“You’re not sleeping, are you?” John asked.

You sighed a little.

“I can’t… I don’t know why…”

“Nightmares, excessive caffeine, too much energy, there’s loads of reasons you don’t sleep.” Sherlock said.

You said nothing, and John got up, leaving the room.

Walking over to you, Sherlock took your new books from you, dropping them somewhere else and threw the box across the room.

You went to stand up.

“Ah. No.”

Sherlock placed a hand on your forehead, and pushed you back on the couch.

“You’re not leaving that spot.”

“Here, I’ve got some tea for you.”

John walked over, setting the cup on the table and he sat next to you, patting his shoulder.

“Come on, you need some sleep. We won’t go anywhere right Sherlock?”

You both looked at him.

“Sherlock!” John hissed.

Sherlock walked back over, throwing his hands into the air.

“Fine! I’ll stay here!”

He dropped himself next to you, handing you your cup.

“Drink your tea and sleep.”

“You’re not my father…” you grumbled.

“Then stop acting like a child.”

You smiled a little at him, sipping from your cup.

You kicked your feet up on Sherlock, leaning yourself on John.

“Will you read to me…?” You asked.

“Yeah, of course.” John smiled.

While he read, you drank your tea, and while John read, Sherlock carried on working on something.

Soon enough you fell asleep, but neither of them moved.

You needed this, you needed sleep, and if that meant the pair of them had to stay there with you sprawled across them, that’s what they would do.

Even Sherlock could manage sitting still for a while if it meant his friend getting some much needed sleep

#bbc Sherlock #bbc Sherlock x reader #bbc Sherlock x you #bbc Sherlock imagine

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little-diable · 8 months

Text

Sins, desires, longings - Dean Winchester (smut)

A big thank you to @deathofpeaceofmind for inspiring this! This came to us as I shared the lyrics of the song "No Mercy" by Austin Giorgio. This could have a part two? Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean thinks Sam is dead, hence why he tries to rip himself free from his old life, which means leaving (y/n) behind. But as he hides away in a church, slipping into the role of a priest, he keeps committing sins. Or: pwp

Warnings: 18+, piv smut, jerking off, religious connotations, priest!Dean, pretty much pwp

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (1.6k words)

The sound of his boots meeting the ground echoed through the cold church, echoing off the walls like the cries of those burying Jesus had echoed through the afternoon air. With his forest green eyes focused on the altar, Dead dropped to his knees, making a cross sign with two fingers before he clasped his hands together.

His eyes fluttered close, speaking a prayer he had learned a few days ago, trying to swallow down the thoughts welling up in his mind, wanting to drown him like the waves Moses had parted had tried to do. Dean had to focus on the words that left him, rolling off his tongue all too easily.

It was a strange sight, a sight so foreign that those who have once crossed paths with the hunter wouldn’t believe their own eyes. Without opening his eyes, Dean’s hand began to move up his chest, finding the rosary dangling from his neck. Slowly he grasped the pearls, wooden beads that took his mind off the prayer he should focus on.

“Dean.” She whispered his name, eyes rolling back into her head as his tongue found its way to her inner thighs, smirking against her skin. Once again (y/n) called out his name, arching her back off the mattress, giving into the strong feeling. With his tongue pressing against her arousal covered folds, his fingers started moving, circling her pulsing bundle.

“Mhm, tastes so sweet, darling.” The praise made her gasp, unable to bite down her moans. He had her trapped, was still wearing the collar around his neck, was still wearing the rosary dangling from his neck - perfectly taking on the role of a priest.

Another hunt had lured them into this town, forcing the two to act as people they have never wanted to be. And yet the two of them found their joy in tricking those that were too oblivious for their own good.

“Fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“Dean, there you are!” John’s voice ripped Dean out of his flashback, having to clear his throat as he tried to forget the memory he had just been forced to live through once again. The elderly priest came to a halt next to Dean’s kneeling frame, waiting for the younger man to rise to his feet. “How are we feeling today? Are you ready for our service?”

“I’m getting there, thank you, John.” Dean had lost count on the days flashing past ever since Sam’s death, days that had a dark touch to them, forcing the older Winchester brother to leave his old life behind, to leave his memories behind, to leave her behind. Her. The woman who owned his heart, the woman he had unleashed his anger upon as he worked through Sam’s death.

Dean had decided to run, had left all his things behind – besides Baby – had decided to join a church he had known for years, begging the priest that knew him better than others to take him in. And now he was here, living a life he had once made fun of, a calm life that focused on prayers, on services, on those in need. But perhaps this life wasn’t as different as the one he had lead weeks ago, set on helping those that needed him.

“It always takes its time, and that is alright, Dean. God is good, he wants to give you time to grieve.” John’s words forced tears to well up in Dean’s green eyes, forced to choke on the knot growing in his throat, unable to reply. His body was trembling, forced into another memory he had tried to bury six feet under.

“Fuck, I love you, I love you so much, sweetheart.” Dean’s pants filled Baby, eyes set on (y/n)‘s pleasure drunken features. He fucked her into the backseat, no longer caring if his tight grasp was leaving marks on the leather fabric. She was everything Dean could focus on, the sweetest temptation known to humankind.

"Never let me go, Dean, promise me.” (Y/n) whispered her words, eyes momentarily focusing on Dean’s wide ones. She saw him swallow, collecting enough air to murmur a soft though clear “I promise”.

“I don’t know John, it feels like I’m clinging to things I can’t let go. I don’t have the strength to.” Dean averted his gaze in shame, fumbling with the fingers that have once searched for her, needing to feel her close. He could still hear the angry words she had spoken, the fight the two had been trapped in, a fight that had given Dean the final push, disappearing in the middle of the night.

He had left behind a note for her to find, a simple “I’m sorry, I will always love you”. Nothing more, nothing less. By now he deeply regretted the way they’ve parted, or at least how he had parted from her, Dean could only hope that she’d be able to make her peace with it, someday at least.

“Time will heal your wounds, Dean. Allow God to guide you, put your trust in him.”

……

Dean’s gasps and moans echoed through his small room, he had his head thrown back against the thin pillow, hand wrapped around his twitching cock. Her name rolled off his tongue, a sound so strong, a sound so emotional, Dean could only hope the others living in the rooms close by won’t hear him.

His hand moved with quick strokes, needing to chase the high he had been aching for for days. It was wrong - at least that’s what he’s been told - he was committing another sin, and yet Dean couldn’t care about the punishment that may eventually follow. In this very moment Dean couldn’t care about crossing paths with the Devil, or at least the one those surrounding him were fearing, he had played this game for too long, he knew what was awaiting him, eventually.

“Dean, look at me.” He was forced to lift his gaze, bloodshot eyes meeting her worried ones. (Y/n) sat down next to him, reaching for the bottle of beer he kept clinging to as if he was scared to lose yet another thing. Dean tried to protest, but he was interrupted by the clicking of her tongue, eyes snapping close once again. “Look at me, please.”

No words left him as he finally looked at her, (y/n), the one who owned his heart, his closest friend, his most trustworthy companion. Slowly she cupped his cheek, thumb running over his skin, tracing the freckles that reminded her of stars covering the night sky, a sight so beautiful she’d always stop to marvel at him.

“What can I do? Anything you want, you need.” His teeth sank into his lower lip, eyes once again fluttering close as he reached for her wrist, pulling her into his lap. (Y/n) didn’t dare speak up, allowing Dean to take what he needed, lips finding hers all too forcefully, leaving her gasping. He tasted of beer, of sadness, of pain. Dean rose to his feet with (y/n) clinging to him, forcing her down on the table, pushing her back.

Her gasps drowned out Dean’s low groans, undoing his belt, freeing his hardening cock. No further warning was spoken as he shuffled her shirt up to her waist, pulling her panties aside. Their eyes met again, a silent question being shared between them, waiting for her consent.

(Y/n) pulled him in for another teeth-clashing kiss, freeing yet another groan bubbling out of them. He parted from her to spit into his hand, lubing his cock up before he pushed into her. Both moaned in unison, set on chasing their highs, set on pushing one another over the edge with no mercy.

Dean ripped his eyes wide open seconds before he came, ripped from the flashback like those that have grieved for Jesus’ death, reliving their last moments with their saviour. Sweat pearled on Dean’s forehead, sweat that rolled down his forehead like the red blood that had once dripped from four nails, forced through skin and wood. He choked on (y/n)’s name, painting his hands and stomach white as he came, lazily pumping his cock a few more times.

“Fuck,” Dean murmured the curse, forcing a few deep breaths into his lungs before he rose to his feet, slowly cleaning himself up. He was heavily breathing, still hung up on the memories that have forced themselves into his brain, flashing before his eyes like lightning striking the dark sky.

His eyes found the wooden rosary placed on his desk, next to the white collar he was now wearing on a daily basis. Dean moved closer, slowly picking up the rosary as his doubts came flooding back through his system. He should have spoken to her, should have explained his every fear to (y/n), but he hadn’t, he had kept his mouth shut – like a scared boy.

The sound of somebody knocking on the wooden door leading to his room forced his green eyes to snap towards the door. He cleared his throat, reaching for a shirt before he walked closer. Slowly Dean pulled the door open, freezing as his eyes fell onto two pairs of all too familiar eyes.

“Sam? (Y/n)?”

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester imagine #Dean Winchester x reader #supernatural smut

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alyswritings · 1 year

Note

JJ X sister maybank reader please, she catches her brother with another girl and he tells her to get out when really she needed him the most. She then goes to kie and sarah.

Y/N sniffles as she gets back to the chateau, wiping at her tears. She looks around for her brother, going into the guest room that they use, opening the door, stopping when she finds JJ and a girl making out on the bed, JJ shirtless.

"Jesus! Y/N, what the fuck?" JJ questions the thirteen year old.

"I-- sorry. I just... I-I needed to talk to you." Y/N says.

"Well, do it later. Leave." JJ hisses.

"But, J--"

"Go." JJ growls, giving her an annoyed look, and he gently shoves her out of the room, shutting the door in her face, and she hears the lock click.

"Who the hell was that?" She hears the girl ask.

"Just my sister." JJ says. "Now, where were we?" The room goes silent and Y/N knows they went back to making out already. She huffs, feeling more tears fall down her face and she storms out out of the chateau.

Y/N quietly cries while sitting on the hammock as she thinks of what to do. She goes over to the shed and finds John B's old bike. After testing it, she gets on and pedals away.

Finally reaching Kie's house, Y/N jumps off the bike. She manages to climb up the side of the house, not wanting to risk having to make small talk with Kie's parents.

Reaching Kie's window, she knocks on the window. After a moment, Sarah is walking over, her eyebrows furrowed at the younger Maybank sibling. Sarah slides the window open.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" Sarah asks.

"I, uh... is Kie here, too?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, come on." Sarah steps aside, letting the younger girl climb in.

"Y/N? What's up?" Kie asks.

"I, uh... can I stay here for a bit? Just, like, the night or maybe or something?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. Why? Is something wrong?" Kie asks.

"Everything." Y/N mumbles. "My dad, my history teacher is out to get me, those kids are picking on me again." She lists, sitting on the bed, her eyes watery. "I went to JJ, but-- but he was making out with a girl and he kicked me out." She sniffles.

"Oh, baby." Kie sympathetically sighs, hugging her. Sarah frowns, sitting on Y/N's other side and rubbing her back.

"Why is your history teacher out to get you?" Sarah asks.

"He always humiliates me somehow. It's not my best class and when he demonstrates bad grades, he always uses my stuff. And I failed an essay the other day and he made me read it out loud so other kids would know what not to do."

Kie rolls her eyes at the teacher, her jaw clenching, wanting to protect the girl she views as a little sister.

"What about the kids?" Sarah asks.

"Just stupid comments that shouldn't bother me, but do. They made me spill my lunch yesterday. And please don't ask about my dad. You already know that kind of shit."

"I'm sorry, sweetie." Sarah frowns.

"How long has this been going on?" Kie asks.

"I mean... it kind of always does. It's just been worse the past couple of weeks." Y/N says.

"Well, we can have a girls night. Nails, movies, games, annoying gossip. Completely forget about all the shitty things in life, unless you're up for an amateur therapy session. How's that sound?"

"Good." Y/N smiles a little and nods.

- - -

The next afternoon, the three get to the chateau, always hanging out there as usual. They're all outside and getting ready to go out on the boat. JJ goes into the chateau to get drinks and snacks, Sarah and Kie following him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Kie sneers, smacking JJ over the head.

"Ow!" JJ cries out, holding his head.

"You ditched your little sister for a hookup, JJ? Really?" Sarah asks.

"What the hell are you talking about?" JJ asks, putting some beer in the cooler.

"Y/N. She said she tried to talk to you yesterday, but you were making out with a girl." Kie says.

"Yeah. So?" JJ asks.

"So, she needed you, you fucking idiot." Kie hisses.

"What are you talking about?" JJ asks.

"She really needed somebody yesterday. But you chose a random chick over her." Sarah says.

"Well, she didn't say she anything. All she said was she had to talk." JJ says, shrugging.

"She didn't look sad or anything?" Kie asks.

"I-- I don't know. Maybe." JJ says. "I had other things on my mind." He chuckles and Kie smacks him over the head again. "Ow!"

"Look, leave her alone on the boat, cause if she starts talking she'll probably start crying, but when we were are back on land, you apologize to your little sister and you listen to her." Kie orders, a finger pointed in JJ's face sternly.

"Yes, ma'am." JJ salutes her.

"I'm serious, JJ." Kie states.

"Me, too. All right, I will. What was bothering her, anyway?" He asks.

"Bullies, history teacher, and your dad." Kie lists.

"History teacher? Come on, that prick again?" JJ groans.

"Yes. The teacher who should definitely not be a teacher." Kie says.

"Okay, okay, I'll take care of her later." JJ says, ignoring the guilt forming in the pit of his stomach.

- - -

JJ did subtle things to watch out for Y/N while on the boat. He gave her drinks even when she didn't ask for one, made sure to notice when she was tired or hungry.

They're back at the chateau and Y/N is inside and making a sandwich. JJ goes inside, slowly walking over.

"Hey." JJ greets, standing across from her on the other side of the counter.

"Hi." She mumbles, spreading the peanut butter on her sandwich.

"So, um... what, uh, what'd you wanna talk about yesterday?" JJ asks.

"Doesn't matter." Y/N dismisses.

"Right." JJ mumbles. "Look, Y/N, I-I'm sorry for kicking you out. Okay? I-- I wasn't in the, um... the big brother mindset. I'm really sorry. I should've noticed you were upset." He says.

"Thanks, I guess." Y/N mumbles.

"Look, um... Ki-Kie told me what you were upset about." JJ says.

"And she's the only reason you're apologizing?" Y/N assumes.

"No. No, I'm apologizing because I feel bad, kiddo. Really, I'm sorry. I promise to never prioritize a hookup over you ever again." JJ says.

"Okay." Y/N mumbles.

"So, uh... do you wanna talk about it?" JJ asks.

"Not right now. I don't really wanna cry right now, so." Y/N says.

"Right. Can I at least beat somebody up?" JJ asks and Y/N smiles a little.

"You'd get sued if you beat up my history teacher." Y/N notes.

"Well, I'm sixteen. It's still not really completely inappropriate for me to beat up some thirteen year olds." He smiles.

"Jayje..." She gives him a look. "I appreaciate the thought, but that's not gonna help anything. It'll only make them hurt me worse, my history teacher would probably sue us or get you expelled or something."

"I'm cool with that." JJ says.

"We're broke enough, don't you think?" Y/N retorts.

"I got a job." JJ shrugs.

"JJ." Y/N gives him a look.

"Alright, alright, alright, okay." JJ holds his hands up. "Fine. No violence." He gets up and walks over to her. "But if you change your mind..."

"Call our designated fighter, yeah, I know." Y/N says.

"Anytime." JJ hugs her, giving her a noogie.

"JJ." She whines, pulling out of his grasp. JJ laughs and gets some peanut butter off her sandwich. "JJ!" She complains again, watching him laugh as he eats the peanut butter.

"You love me." JJ grabs her head and kisses her on the cheek.

"No, I don't." She argues.

"Yes, you do." He ruffles her hair, grabbing a beer and going outside.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @itsmaneskinbitch @ironmaiden1313

#jj maybank #jj maybank x sister reader #jj maybank x sister!reader #obx #outer banks #obx jj #outer banks jj

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kaizenkhaos · 4 months

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Over the Airwaves: A Harringrove Xmas Fic

Okay so you know how it goes. You see a post reblogged from a fellow Harringrover (if that's the term...hmmm...I'm not sure but hey ho XD) and all of a sudden the mind gremlins go yes....do it. Write a nearly 4K fic inspired by it. Or kinda. It's more adjacent to it. In this case, I saw a post reblogged by @avalonlights about Michael Buble and that sent me down a rabbit hole of Robin and Steve hosting a radio show and a certain someone or someones ringing in with requests. Though it does give me ideas for another fic for later or maybe next year now XD So Merry Christmas everyone! ^^ Wherever you are and whatever you're doing, have fun, stay safe and for those of you who struggle during this time of year, my thoughts are with you. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Four Days before Christmas Day...

"And that was 'So This is Christmas' by John Lennon. Coming up, we have the much beloved listeners' request section. But now, here's a few words from our sponsors." It was the run up to Christmas and Steve was working. Like every god darn Christmas he could remember since finishing at Hawkins High. Sure, the money wasn't bad and it stopped him from sitting alone in a big house, wishing that he could just chill in the pool and forget about the rest of the world, but….there was just somethin' about this time of year that set his teeth on edge. Maybe it was cos his parents had once again gone away from the holidays, leaving him with a Christmas tree laden with presents but no one to see him open them. Maybe it was the fridge full of food which they'd left for him which he'd stuff in the oven and try and not forget about. Or maybe it was the fact that each and every year, someone had actually asked him over to their place. And he lied about having somewhere already to go. Cos he didn't wanna be a burden, ruin a good time. If he was gonna be miserable, he'd be miserable alone. He was so tired of putting a brave face on things. But maybe what he really needed to do was bite the bullet and say yes. Being alone the past years had sucked.

Four days until the day of the most wonderful time of the year. According to many and that one song which they kept being asked to play most days. Christmas songs were the bread and butter of the airwaves for Radio Hawkins in December, most DJs chosing to play different varieties but some of the songs remained the same. The staple diet of a nation ready for the holidays and to eat and drink more in the name of good old Saint Nic. Steve and Robin had been given the afternoon slot, just before the prime time DJ, and so were kinda the warm up act before the main event. It meant that they could get away with playing some obscurities but overall, it was more the popular stuff, both classic and modern as well as the old curveball to keep them on their toes.

"Line one dingus, you're up to bat." It didn't matter that they were no longer the sailors hauling scoops at Scoops Ahoy, dingus had stuck. But it wasn't in the manner in which he'd been labelled at first. Now it was more affection than insult, just one of the many insider jokes and banter the pair now had.

Nodding, Steve looked over at the producers, giving the good old thumbs up and it was time for his sultry (and apparently sexy according to some listeners) tones to smooth over the airwaves.

"And we're back with more holidays hits right over the air waves at Radio Hawkins. And the section, as Robin said before the break, we all know and love. It's time to hand over to the listeners and the recommendations for your Christmas tunes." Looking at the board, he selected the button nearest to him and with a smile, started with, "Hello there dear listener, who do we have on line 1 today?"

"Hello. Can I request a song for all of the Hawkins Life guards out there? " "Sure thing, and what can we play you today?" Oh wasn't that a oh so familiar voice and a glance over at Robin told him that yep, she'd cottoned onto who it was too. They didn't even have to leave a name and they knew it. Steve wondered how red Robin was gonna get before the song would end, even before the voice continued and sealed the deal. "Could we have 'Santa baby' please Mr DJ." "That we can, thanks for your call." As the line went dead, Steve leaned over to the console to locate the song in question. Now he knew it was one which had been covered a hell of a lot; apparently one of the most covered Christmas songs ever. But no doubt the main DJ of the night would play some up-beat version and what was wrong with a bit of Eartha Kitt? "We're going with the original version?" Pulling her headset off, Robin was getting a raised eyebrow, as if this was something unexpected. She knew his leaning to the classics for these sorts of things but maybe she thought their audience would beg to differ. Although, that did make him think of…. "Yeah 'course. Why, should I have gone for the sexy Michael Buble version?" "No. Steve. Why do you…" Bingo. Deep, deep red is the result to his poking, as he made kissing noises at her and she looked like she'd have thrown a pillow at him if she had one at her disposal. Instead she just leaned over and nearly set him off his chair. An act that had the producers snorting and Steve grinning from ear to ear. Once he was straight and level back on his chair. Last year, Robin may have dragged him onto the stage for karaoke on their second work's night out together. It had been a small town bar, pretty cosy and most locals but they seemed to have known the radio station folk, so there was no hostile staring. Santa Baby had been the song Robin had chosen but not for the reasons he thought at first. Both a bit drunk, he'd just thought it was an updated upbeat version for them to stumble through. Then Robin had done a 180. No longer as shy as before but like a shot of confidence had come over here. Sassy, confident and damn…. If she'd not come out to him a couple of years previous and let her feeling about him known, that would have a time which he had gotten him paying attention. But as it was, he worked out real quickly what had caused the change, or rather who. Turned out a certain life guard had shown up, on their own work's do and yeah. Robin had already scoped her out and the song? It had been for her. It had turned out, as they'd found out later that night, the feelings had been mutual. Steve had slipped away to give them some privacy and the rest….well. They'd been dating for a year now, but every time that version of the song came on, Steve wouldn't let her live it down and Robin didn't let him get away with it.

"You're such a….." The song finished and a smirk is what Robin is faced with as she gives him that face and took over hosting duties. Whilst making it so very very clear that he was gonna pay for this later. Or one day. Who knew when, but she'd seek her revenge and he'd pay his due.

Three days until Christmas Day…

He was surprised they were both not hung over. A night out with Heather and her swim team, and member of his old swim team and many, many drinks later had left both him and Robin going home late and just about getting ready enough to be able to be coherent on the air. It had taken Steve an embarrassingly amount of time to work out their set lists and he swore at times he was getting the shakes for some reason but they were working through it. Him and Robin, the dynamic duo. They'd made the bad days work at Scoops and here, as tight as ever, they'd carry each other through it. Just as they had each other on the way home. "So, we have another caller on line two. What's your name and what can we play for you this afternoon?" They'd admittedly had some banging tunes already this slot. Some golden oldies; some Slade, some Wizard. Some modern ones and some not so Christmassy tunes too. Probably from someone who either didn't like Christmas all that much or just wanted to give others a breather for a moment. After playing a bit of T-Rex and Prince, the songs had morphed back into the season and Steve was now ready to hear what the last request of the session was gonna be. A pause on a line. This happened from time to time. When there was a bad line, a disconnect or when people just didn't know what to say, or how to start. It happened more often than he'd thought when he'd started here three years ago. Nerves on the airwaves, the thought of so many ears hearing your every word. Steve got it. He'd been the same when he'd started. Now it felt as natural as breathing. Steve patiently waited for the caller to say a word or hang up. "Santa's little helpers." Giggling floated over the line and yet another familiar sound reached Steve's ears. A sigh away from the microphone as he rolled his eyes at Robin to just get a grin back. Eyes carrrying as much mischief as the kids on the line. Well, it had only been a matter of time before one of the little shits got through. He was kinda surprised at who it was though. "Hello there Santa's little helpers. Hope you're keeping warm up there in the North Pole. What can we play for you?" "What's the North Pole?"

"Can we have 'Driving Home for Christmas'. Please."

Yep it was them and Steve just smiled, Robin shaking her head but still with that mischief in her eyes. Had she set them up to this? He had no idea if she actually had; he knew she wouldn't reveal her hand yet if she had. Or maybe it was the other who had spoken who'd decided to do it. Those two were thick as thieves after all. Either way, Steve leaned back to his microphone, the song now lined up to play.

"Sure thing. Here's 'Driving Home for Christmas' for Santa's Little Helpers. Thanks for calling."

Two days….. It had been a mistake. Two nights out in a row? He should have been able to handle it. Drink never used to be a problem. But today both him and Robin were definitely paying for it. She called it the hangover from hell but worth it. He was just wondering when the hell he'd turned his headset up. Every sound felt like it was echoing inside of his head. The only saving grace was that some of the staff on the other side of the glass had also been out, what with it being the works do, so they were all collectively on the bus together. Just trying to get through another shift before their beds came a-calling. "Line number three, thanks for calling. What's your name and what can we play for you this afternoon?" This time the voice was clearly using some sort of changer. Subtle but there seemed to be a distortion on the line which felt neither like the phone line or signal and clearly wasn't caused by a human voice. Catching Steve's glance, he hovered his finger over to the line button, just in case it turned out to be some prank caller who they'd have to boot off the air pretty quickly. Wouldn't be the first one, sadly probably wouldn't be the last. "Hi, name's "Christmas Princess" and I'd like "Last Christmas" by Wham please. Love your show, thanks for taking my call." "No problem at all Christmas Princess." He knew Robin was looking over now and he knew how; he didn't have to see it. If it wasn't written all over his face in clear sight, then it was that she knew him and his history well enough that she could feel what he was going through. This song….stung. A lot, and he knew it wasn't aimed at him or anything, but it was…such a shitty Christmas song in his opinion. Full of heartache and sorrow and memories of Christmas past. Memories of her and the special someone he wished he could have given his heart to. And the word Princess….god it remembered him so much of that asshole. Not even in town no more, could be a thousands miles. To Steve, he never was away. He was always there in his head, in his heart and he felt the whole thing stumble.That tell tale of a rip occuring again, and the feel of a soft hand under the table. Steve blinked out of his thoughts and daydreaming, looking over at Robin and the producers who were pointing at the blinking "Live" sign. Smiling at everyone, Steve hoped nothing he'd been thinking had shown on his face. One look at Robin, and he saw that it had. Damn. Him and Robin had spent so much time talking about their crushes that he was so relieved when one of them got lucky. She wanted it for him too, even if she shared his opinion on his crush (being an asshole). She wanted Steve to be happy and he wanted to be finally too.

"And that was Last Christmas. Sorry to all of you trying to avoid Whamhalla. Better luck next time folks. Now who'd we have on line six."

Christmas Eve It was Christmas eve, one last shift until Christmas Day, which turns out this year, he actually wasn't gonna be spending alone after all. He'd not realised until this morning that there were several voice messages for him at home. All of which had come from the Hendersons. Mrs Henderson had happened to bump into his mom in the supermarket or some place, and she'd let on that not only would they be out of town but Steve would be staying behind. Something about work and a boring business meeting his dad had which they didn't wanna drag him along to. So of course, the first phone call had from Mrs Henderson, asking him if he'd like to come over for xmas. The second had been just a check in and polite check in. A "It's okay if you'd rather be alone but if you could let me and Dusty know, that would be appreciated." The final one had been Dustin telling him that if he didn't come around to his on Christmas Day, then his mom was gonna bring them around. Apparently his mom must have had a change of heart; Steve not finding out the why until much later on. Outwardly he'd been annoyed, rung back. Got Henderson on the phone and huffed a "Fine Henderson. Let your mom know we already have a turkey," before putting the phone down. But as Robin started to work out which lines they were gonna to be taking calls from first and he worked through the playlist they'd already arranged for the session, Steve realised that really, now the day was actually nearly here, he was relieved. So god damn relieved that it wouldn't be another meaningless Christmas. He even felt a little bad about his tone on the phone. He should have sounded grateful, not like he was doing them a favour. Something to apologise for when he saw them in person. No more time to dwell on that though as he was on main host duties today and so it was his turn to man the lines. Nodding to Robin, she hit a button and put the caller through. Steve wondering what the next Christmas 'masterpiece' in which they would be asked/forced to play would be. "Over to line four. Hi there, what's your name and what can we play you this Merry Christmas Eve?" "Yeah, hi. This is that guy with the Camaro. I want to request a song for someone special. It's that Mariah Carey song. You know, the popular one." No……no no no. It couldn't be. It had to be….someone else right? But no. He'd know that voice anywhere in the world. The inflexion in his words, his choices, his tone. Of all the god damn people to phone in and all of the times too. And of all of the god damn shitting songs he could pick. Why this one and why this. God Damn. Station. Maybe to be fair he didn't know. He'd been gone since Starcourt. Whisked away as soon as he was well enough. Had gone to catch some sun and never come back. At times Steve wished he would have stayed like Max had done. Maybe he'd have at least had the chance to say he was sorry. Maybe he could have made things right between them. "You there amigo?" The words echoed around in his head, before a little nudge from Robin brought him back around. Concentrate….he had to just treat this as another caller. Them as anyone else who wanted a song. It didn't matter how he felt about it; he had a job to do. "Yes, sorry that guy with the Camaro. All I want for Christmas is you right?" "That's the one."

The sound of a smirk in his voice made Steve want to throw up.Throw down his headset and go cry in the staff room.He'd not felt like this in so long and it was really darn hard for him to keep it together right now.But he had to. ON with the show and then he could let it all hang out when he got home. Away from the peering eyes, away from anyone's expectations of him. Then he'd be fine for when Mrs Henderson picked him up. None the wiser. "Sure man, we'll put that right on for you. Hope that special someone likes it." "Thanks man, I know they'll be listening."

Another gut punch and it was like the Byers House all over again. All he needed was a plate smashing over his head. A squeeze of his hand and Steve takes a deep breath before slipping the headset off again. Robin quickly joining him and gently putting his and hers down on the console. "Steve….." "It's okay Robin. He's probably come back to see Max for Christmas" And this special person of his. A tight lump was gripping his throat. He hated this. All of it. Most of the staff here knew about him and Robin and it didn't bother them. It hadn't stopped them from rising up the ranks, given them their own show. Some people in Hawkins would still be reviled if they knew about the pairs' sexualities but here they were safe. And he was pretty sure some of them knew about the golden haired Cali boy that he held such a torch for. Hell, one of them had even found his mixtape in the car once. Asked him about it and then reassured him that he was okay. That it was fine. He had a friend who was gay and he was going to their wedding. That had been several months back, the first person at work Steve had even told. It still didn't make this any easier. He'd gotten worse at hiding his emotions. The dam was breaking and he was struggling to stop the water now. Luckily though, the caller was gone before the song played out and Steve managed to say a hurried thanks before Robin skillfully took over the air for the last song. Gestured for him to go and take a breather. The producers nodded and let him go, didn't mind the fact he'd had to head off early. He'd wanted to say thank you to all their listeners, to wish them a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year as they wouldn't be back on the air until after the first, but he just couldn't right now. And they all knew that. Smoking hadn't been on his mind for a while, but now he fished around the bag he brought out from his locker to find the packet, slightly crumpled in a side pocket. God he needed this. God he needed….apparently a lot of things. A hug, a smile, reassuring words. A good turkey dinner and a warm fire, and family and laughter and….. At first, he ignored the buzzing of his phone. Probably just a message or a spam call or somethin'. It rang off fast enough to be either so he just stood there. Leaned against the wall and took the longest drag that he had in a real long time. Before off went his phone again, pulling against his jeans. Maybe it was Mrs Henderson. Maybe there'd been a change of plan or she needed to make sure she had the right gravy. She did like to make a fuss and always made him feel so welcome. The thought of which is what made him pull his phone out eventually. It wasn't right to keep her waiting. He'd already missed her calls and not rang her back, something else he really needed to say sorry for. But it wasn't her name that had flashed up on his screen. It was Max. Okay, that….didn't make the most sense but maybe she just wanted to wish him a Merry Christmas or….shit no, something hadn't happened had it? He'd….he'd better pick up. "Max?" "No need to sound so worried pretty boy. She's fine. Snuck out with Lucas somewhere. Probably the arcade. Dead romantic like that." Holy….shit. He couldn't stop himself from sliding down the wall, only feeling over the back of his jacket once his ass had hurt the floor. Hargrove…what the shit. He really was back in Hawkins and apparently had Max's phone on him. "Also before you lecture me, yes she has my phone. Didn't think you'd pick up if it was a strange number or anything. So, you like the song choices?"

"Song choices?" Wait choices….. Steve's face must have done a whole range of different motions as emotions rode from pillar to post. He'd rang in before. Several times. But when and…. how many times? What had he requested, other than that damn song today. The voice changer….so he'd been the shit requesting freaking Last Christmas. Now another emotion straddled the rest of them. So, was this some kinda sick joke, a wind up, a play to get him on air? He couldn't think straight. He never could around Hargrove but wasn't this typical of him? Wasn't this the usual hair playing behaviour he should have expected? Wasn't this why he liked him? Shit…. This could not be happening.

"Ah come on man? Santa baby, Driving Home for Christmas….George Michael and freaking Mariah Carey. You know how much cred I've lost just requesting that song man." "Ah great. Yeah, it totally makes sense now. You putting others up to ring mine and Robin's show and make me feel like a complete ass" "Woah woah woah amigo. No no no." A snort and then that lower tone that always made him feel like he was about to split in half. "Did you even listen to what I said to you? Listen to the lyrics of any of those songs. And here was me thinking you were a fellow music lover Harrington." Listen to the lyrics? About wanting someone, coming home to them, the whole giving someone their heart and shit and…..but it was for a special someone. All I want for Christmas is…..oh. "Get the hint yet?" His eyes darted upwards as the shadows crept over him. A familiar smile now above him. Shining ocean eyes which he thought he'd never see again. And the sound of an engine in the background and playful chatter. Max and Lucas at the arcade his ass.

"Hi there pretty boy. Look whose come back for Christmas." ……….

#harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove xmas fic #kaizen's kreations #inspired by others' posts

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tfmybody · 1 year

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A Fortunate Theft

When I left my house last night to go clubbing, I didn’t think it would end up like this. My friends and I had decided to go to a high-end club, splash out for once since we rarely went out. When we got there we got in line and waited our turn to go in. And that’s when I saw Fredrik.

He was walking with a friend of his past the line when he spotted me and my friends. He stopped and struck up a conversation with us and quickly offered to help us skip the line since he knew the bouncer. We naturally took him up on his offer and to show our gratitude when we got inside I bought him a drink. Fredrik looked like the kind of guy who I’d always wanted to give me attention but also seemed to overlook me. The fact that he had taken such an interest in me made me quickly forget my friends. The time flew by and before I knew it Fredrik had guided me to the bathrooms and was making out with me. I was intoxicated, completely consumed with the beautiful man in front of me that I didn’t even notice the changes that were happening.

I was slowly growing taller reaching and equal height as Fredrik, making it easier for us to kiss. I felt a warmth spreading through as my body fat slowly melted from my body, revealing a toned body with a defined set of abs. My arms grew as my biceps began to stretch my clothes helping my grip Fredrik closer. I felt my dick, already hard, growing longer stretching the jeans I wore. It was only when I opened my eyes that I realized something was wrong. I wasn’t making out with Fredrik anymore, I was making out with myself. I looked down and realized I was suddenly wear Fredrik’s clothes. My old body looked at me, “Sorry dude, I needed to escape, I couldn’t do it anymore.” And with that he ran out of the bathrooms and into the crowd.

I went to try and follow but out of nowhere the man Fredrik had come to the club with grabbed my arm, “Where have you been man, this isn’t how I wanted the night to go.” I tried to apologize and formulate an explanation for what happened but before I could the man kissed me. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll go to your place, I don’t want my roommates to find out about this.”

He guided me into an uber which took us to a fancy apartment downtown. I had no idea how I was meant to get into the building but I reached into my pockets to find a set of keys which opened the door. Within seconds the man had pushed me onto Fredrik’s bed and started stripping me letting me see my new body for the first time. Despite the confusion of what was happening I was enjoying the experience a little. I continued to make out with the man as he also stripped and by the time we were both naked he lifted my legs on to his shoulders and slipped his dick into my ass. I couldn’t help but moan, it felt incredible. But even more incredible was seeing my new legs, how muscular they were. Completely shaven. I rubbed my hands along my body feeling my abs, gripping my pecs. I reached down and started rubbing my new, larger dick while the stranger continued to fuck me. We soon finished and the man got up and began to clean himself. I lay on the bed continuing to enjoy the after glow.

When he was finally dressed he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out his wallet. From inside he grabbed a wad of cash. He throw it onto the bed, “Thanks Fredrik, I’ll call you again some time soon.” By now I was completely confused. Had Fredrik’s friend just paid me for hooking up with him in Fredrik’s body?

I went to my new bathroom to shower, as I usually did and as I looked at myself in the mirror things seemed to start to make sense. It was almost as if I was seeing Fredrik’s memories and life in my head. The man had been John, he’d met Fredrik a couple months ago. Since then they’d been having sex at least once a week. He paid each time. John wasn’t a friend, he was a client. Once I realized that everything else seemed to be flooding into my head. Fredrick was a high-end escort, but he couldn’t do it anymore and hated his life. He saw me at the club and thought my body would make the perfect escape as someone wholly average and unremarkable. I could feel the stress and panic that Fredrik had felt before, but now it was all gone.

I was Fredrik now, but I didn’t dislike this life or body. I loved it, and I was going to live it to the fullest. And if I ever get tired of it, I still remember how Fredrik stole my body in the first place.

#tfmybody #bodyswap #request #stolenbody

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darklydeliciousdesires · 5 months

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Immortal Beloved - Chapter Seven.

Last update until after Christmas, guys. I guess this gives anyone wishing to catch up a chance to do so, but I must confess that if reads and engagement are still dwindling, the story will likely be discontinued. I don't want to do that really, but I'm not being left with much choice. Working hard on creating something that went from a lot of initial interest to barely any at all is soul destroying for a writer. I appreciate the few people who are committed to it enormously, though.

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,739

Warnings - 18+ only. Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

“Well, it looks as if the roads are quite passable now.” Looking at John, she snorted a laugh. It was not the news he’d been hoping to hear.

“Can’t you go and, I dunno, move a load more snow over ‘em, so we don’t have to go anywhere?”

Oh, the bubble they had fallen into over the past few days. Neither truly wanted to burst it by venturing out from within the four walls of Georgian House. They’d spent most of their time naked, either enjoying one another on a sexual level, or simply warming themselves at the fireside while they’d talked for hours on end. Reality, though, it had to come knocking eventually.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she raised a curious eyebrow. “What, I am to go out there and shunt the snowbanks back into every single road running through Birmingham?”

“Yes,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the front door. “Go on, hop to it.”

Her laugh filled the hallway, curling her fingers at his neck. “You do amuse me, my darling. There is nothing to stop us from coming back here later on. I would like another night with you until my rescheduled work engagements fill up the rest of my week.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, kissing her forehead, “I’m gonna have all that to focus on an’ all. All the races will have been cancelled cos’ of the weather, but we have other things going on I’ll need to be about for.” Those things included words he hadn’t wanted to let into his mind for the last four days since his arrival in Little Aston, such as the Rasmussen’s, and his taking Bryn back to Small Heath to introduce her to his family in order to discuss her own difficulties with them.

“Come, let us depart, then.”

His face was not in agreement with those words. “Do we have to leave right now?”

“You called your brother, and he is back from Warwickshire, yes?”

“Yeah, he is.”

“Then we should not keep him waiting. It is rude, and I pride myself on being polite.”

He grumbled in protest. “I wanted to do something before we did.” He watched her cock her head slightly, his hands wandering over the contours of her body through her long, black skirt. “I really fancy burying me face between your legs for so long, you forget what I look like.”

He winked, and she felt her stomach flutter. “I could never forget a face so handsome, but by all means, you may do that to me later on.”

Biting his lip, he smirked, eyes touring her. “You sure not now?”

The devilment within him. It would be the death of her, if she were not dead already. “Coat and boots. Now. Your family already distrust me. I am not about to give them another reason to stack against me before I have even crossed their threshold.”

That threshold was reached at just past 6pm, Bryn stepping from the car as John took her arm, reaching to open the front door. His arm pulled from hers as he stepped inside, her body rooted to the spot.

Polly’s words the previous week returned to him in an instant. “Ah, yeah I have to invite you in, don’t I?” She nodded. “Won’t you please come in, you ridiculously beautiful woman.” Stepping into the small house, it had a very cosy feel to it, the fire crackling away, evidence of someone having been sitting there, that someone coming hurtling in from the back room.

“Daddy!”

“Hello, pige.” Scooping his daughter up, John kissed her cheek, Katie cuddling up to him tightly as her eyes took in Bryn, who beamed brightly. “What’s this you’ve got on your head, eh?” Gesturing to the wire hanger that had been fashioned, little sequins wrapped around along with paper flowers, he laughed when she batted his hand away with a scowl.

“It’s my crown!” Her finger then pointed at Bryn. “Daddy is this your new lady friend?”

He grinned, nodding. “Yeah, pige. This is Brynhild, but you can call her Bryn, like I do.”

Immediately, she scrambled from his arms. “Hello, Bryn! My name is princess Katie.”

Bryn took to her like a duck to water, placing a hand to her chest with a small gasp. “What, you mean to tell me I am meeting the princess Katie of Small Heath?” The child nodded, tucking her chin a little shyly for a moment. “I am thrilled to make your acquaintance, your majesty.” Katie looked thrilled as Bryn bobbed in a neat curtsy, giggling before launching herself to hug her legs, the vampire lifting her into her arms. “This is a very, very pretty crown.”

“Thanks! I made it, aunt Polly helped but then she got glue on her skirt and said it was a bugger, so I did the rest.”

“Oi, you want smacked legs?” John admonished, pinching her cheek. “Less of the swearing, eh?”

“But Polly said it!” Turning then, she found interest in Bryn’s tattoos, her fingers trailing the lines. “Did you paint these on? Do they come off?”

“No, little princess. I did not paint them on and no, they do not come off.”

“Is it like what uncle Tommy has on his arm? A two two?”

“A tattoo, yes,” she softly corrected, Katie’s fingers reaching to begin playing with the strings of pearls around her neck.

“Where are you from? Your voice is all funny. You don’t talk like we do.” A little more pearl playing went on, Katie studying her intently. “You’re very pretty.”

“Why thank you. Such a compliment, and from royalty too, no less. As for where I am from, I come from a country called Norway.”

Her little head of blonde curls swung around to view her father. “Can we go one day, daddy? Can you drive us there?”

He laughed, taking her back from Bryn. “Not unless cars can suddenly cross water, pige. Now let’s get you off to bed.”

“But I want to say up and talk to Bryn!” Ahh, he knew she’d probably be difficult, confronted with a new person. She likely already had designs on bringing down her doll collection to proudly show off.

“I will come and see you again soon, princess Katie. This I promise.” Bryn vouched, rubbing her nightdress covered thigh affectionately. A few more protests were given before John took her up, coming back to walk Bryn through to the backroom, where there waiting were Tommy, Arthur and Polly.

“Everyone, this is Brynhild. Bryn, this is Arthur, Tommy and Polly.”

Studying them, she made her usual quick assessments, walking first to Tommy. He looked a little stiff, but was certainly the least frosty of the three.

“A pleasure.” She offered her hand, Tommy hesitating only for a second, the echoes of screams that had sounded long ago sharp again within his mind before he shook it. He noticed it as soon as his skin pressed to hers, the ancient power that radiated from her.

She seemed confident and polite, a civilised woman. It did not mean she truly was, though. Whatever sorcery she’d obviously worked on John, he wouldn’t be so quick to succumb, but he would give her a fair chance all the same.

“Polly, hello.” Here she was met with much more coolness, the matriarch of the family lifting her chin as she took a step back, Bryn hearing her heartbeat escalate. She withdrew her hand after a few moments, certain it was not about to be shook. “I am not what your grandmother told you we are.”

“You’ll keep my grandmother’s name out of your mouth, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Pol, knock it on the head,” John warned, his brow creasing.

“No, I bloody won’t,” she protested, although her eyes did not leave Bryn for a second. Her jaw clenched as she swallowed hard, trying to remain rocklike in the presence of a creature she’d been warned never to trust, no matter what. Bryn saw it, though, the way the curls framing her face gently fluttered from her trembles. “But I will at least listen to what she has to say.”

“Well, I flamin’ won’t,” Arthur began, brandishing a large, silver knife as Bryn turned to him. “Don’t you fucking come anywhere near me!”

“Arthur, put the knife down,” Tommy spoke, his tone quiet yet strong.

“I will not.”

Bryn turned, moving to take a seat at the table beside John. “If he wishes to arm himself for his own peace of mind, then I shall not object.”

“Ain’t like you couldn’t take it from him faster than he could blink,” John snorted, resting a hand to her thigh, remembering how she’d done the very same to him. While Polly studied the ease he displayed while interacting with the shadow walker, Arthur was becoming tighter wound by the second.

“I suppose if you’re fine with it,” Tommy began, lighting a cigarette. “Now, let’s get right to business, shall we? You want us to offer you protection in the daylight hours from the Rasmussen’s, should they ever get wind of your whereabouts.”

“That is correct,” Bryn confirmed.

“And what do we get out of it, apart from monetary recompense?” Taking a drag on his cigarette, his eyes narrowed a fraction. “The Peaky Blinders aren’t exactly short of a bob or two already, so I want to know what else it is that you can provide me with, in the interests of making it worth my while to trust a shadow walker.”

John had mentioned how shrewd he could be. “It would be a regular, large sum of legitimate cash, for one thing. Bodyguarding services do not need to be hidden from the books, or laundered by other means as I know you have to with some of your more, ah, shadowed activities, shall we say. Then there is the fact that the Rasmussen’s do not play fair when it comes to a fight. I could give you the means to not just level the playing field, but level them, also. You know what they are, I am correct in thinking?”

He nodded singularly. “Vampire hunters. John told us, yes.”

“And you know why specifically they are hunting me?”

“I do, for your blood. Somewhat hypocritical, if you ask me. Trying to wipe out your kind, but only too happy to drink your blood in order to harness a little of your strength for themselves.”

Her mouth upturned, a smile spreading. “I have often thought much the same. In light of this, know that in physical combat, you shall never beat them as it stands. Outwitting them too shall prove difficult, for the advantage they hold. What I can offer to you is what they seek. My blood.

“It will sharpen you both mentally and physically, far more than they. Whatever vampire they have within their clutches at present whom they are using for their blood source, they are nowhere near as old or strong as I. If you have that, Tommy, you have everything. The advantage will be yours.”

His eyes widened a fraction at the suggestion, Bryn turning to John. “Show him, darling.”

He stood, placing his hand beneath her chair before lifting it clean in the air above his head, his arm not even wobbling, no sign of any strain upon his face.

“Holy shit,” Polly exclaimed, her eyes snapping from the sight to Tommy, who’s interest had just piqued by several notches.

“And why the fuck have you been doing something so fucking vile as drinking her blood, eh? That’s fucking disgusting. Shame on ya!” Arthur raged, watching as his brother set the vampire down again neatly.

John sniffed casually, looking at Bryn with a wink. “I had my reasons. I could tell you, but you’d probably shit a lung in disgust.” Being able to fuck for hours on end. Having the feeling of a million stars shooting through his bloodstream. Orgasms that rocked his foundations to rubble. Being able to feel her there connected to him, on a level that went beyond what they as mere humans could otherwise comprehend. No. Arthur likely wouldn’t take fondly to hearing such candid verbatim.

Tommy cleared his throat. “And how much did you have in mind, monetary speaking?”

“Are we just going to fucking sit here and ignore that this... this... evil witch creature has our bloody brother under some kind of spell, or what?” Arthur raged, thumping his hand on the table before the chair screeched out from under him, rising to his feet rapidly.

“I am no witch, Arthur,” Bryn commented softly.

John snorted with laughter. “Could’ve fooled me, bab.” The wink he directed at Bryn left nobody in any doubt over exactly what he alluded to.

“Shut the fuck up, John! Just because you’ve decided to start shagging the fuck out of a corpse, it don’t mean we’ve got to be alright with it!”

The mood in the room changed drastically, John shooting his eldest brother a dangerous glare. “The fuck did you just call her?”

“Technically he’s right,” Bryn spoke casually, looking over at Arthur with a small smirk. “However, you shouldn’t knock it until you’ve tried it. If there is one place we truly come alive, it is in the bedroom.” She then winked at John, feeling his temper deflate in an instant. He did nothing to hide his grin and snort of laughter, his reaction only further exasperating Arthur.

“Revolting,” he began, swinging his pointed finger then towards Bryn. “And you, you fucking vile piece of filth, are a goddamned abomination!”

Bryn was prepared to take a lot in order to help her cause, also to smooth any tensions that her love’s family might’ve still harboured now that she was involved romantically with him. Being called an abomination was where she drew a definitive line, though.

Her growl rattled through the room, every person bar John feeling the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end. “You will never call me that again.”

“Listen to it, listen!” he raged, gesturing with both hands, his eyes widening. “Fucking growling, like the beast it is!”

“Arthur,” John warned, “don’t bloody push her. She’s gentle as a sparrow, but if you light a match under her fucking temper, I ain’t putting myself between you and the explosion.”

His mannerisms became jerky as anger and fear flooded his blood, thrusting a pointed finger in Bryn’s direction. “I will not share air with that fucking devil creature!”

“That is fine, Arthur. For I do not need to breathe.” She was hanging onto her desire to exit her seat and pin him to the nearest wall, fangs bared, by the skin of those very teeth. Out of respect for John and nothing more, she remained seated. John, her darling, he who had just broken the tension in the air somewhat by snorting with laughter at her words.

“John boy, this ain’t funny!”

“Oh, it fucking is though, Arthur. You ranting and raving like a bloody lunatic about how vicious and murderous she’s supposed to be, and she’s just sitting there quietly, taking every ounce of your shit while you show yourself up good an’ proper.” Leaning back in his seat, he shook his head, still rumbling with his chuckles. “Give it a rest, eh?”

“Give it a rest?” His spat statement was accompanied by a fine mist of saliva sprayed into the air, his hair becoming unruly as he dragged his fingers through it. “Oh ar, yeah let’s all give it a rest and let her think we’ve dropped our guard. Then she’d bring her friends along and it’ll be the Black Patch all over again!”

John remained calm, chewing his toothpick with nonchalance. “You’re going to give yourself a funny turn, you are.”

“You didn’t see it, John boy! You didn’t see people ripped apart, their throats torn out, you didn’t...” His words trailed off, eyes snapping to Bryn as she stood, making a start to walk towards him. “Don’t you bloody come near me! Don’t you...” He reached for the knife, but in his haste sent it clattering to the floor, Bryn upon him before he had chance to retrieve it.

“Shhhhh,” she soothed, reaching for his face, clasping it between her hands, Arthur struggling.

“Get your fucking hands off me!”

“Shhhhh, Arthur. Come now.” She’d been pushed to anger before by his verbal tirade, but looking at him, really studying the man whose face she held, thumbs gently stroking his cheeks, she saw it. His outburst was not prompted by any hatred. It was all fear. He was terrified of her. Just like she had done with John upon their first meet, Bryn held his face, transmitting her energy to him, soothing him. He fought against it, though.

“Get off, stop it. Fucking stop it!”

He began to crack, embarrassed, frightened tears pooling his eyes, Arthur ashamed to let her witness them sliding down his cheeks. He remained rigid as she pulled him close. “There, there. You are not that frightened little boy any longer, Arthur. You are a strong man, a capable man, one who fought for king and country. There is no need for all this anguish. I do not seek to hurt you.”

At last, she felt his muscles slacken, surprised to feel his arms wrap around her as he sobbed silently into the soft pelt of her coat. It took him by surprise, the feeling of sudden waves of calm pouring into him, there in the arms of the creature he had considered to be nothing short of the purest evil to ever exist. She fed upon the blood of the living, a shadow residing beast of unimaginable power and darkness, but there in her arms, Arthur felt the kind of safe comfort he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.

He couldn’t discount that.

The whole room remained silent, John raising an eyebrow and nodding at the scene as he and Tommy exchanged glances, the former mouthing ‘told you’ with a satisfied grin. Where Tommy looked to be more accepting of the sight before him, Polly remained stern, her face not cracking whatsoever.

“Are you composed now?” Bryn asked, pulling back to wipe Arthur’s tears gently with the backs of her fingers.

Nodding, he took a deep breath, straightening his stance. “A bit, ar.” He still felt embarrassed, excusing himself as Bryn returned to her seat. Immediately, John reached to cup her face, thumb stroking her cheek. She turned her head to kiss his palm, covering her hand with his for a moment. Tommy raised his eyebrows, looking to Polly. Neither had ever seen him really express affection like that for a woman so openly, but both saw it quite clearly.

Their precious John was in love with a vampire.

“Now, before Arthur became distressed, you mentioned to me a monetary figure. How is five hundred pounds?”

“A month?” Tommy asked, surprised.

“A week.”

Good god. Just how rich was this woman, to be able to offer five hundred pounds a week? It was a sum he had not expected at all.

“I think that can be arranged,” he began, stubbing out his cigarette, “but the blood offer I shall have to give some consideration to.”

“Good enough.”

“Before anything is decided, I have some questions I’d like to ask you,” Polly began, leaning forward in her seat a little. “How do we know we aren’t about to be set upon by a group of your kind and slaughtered, like what happened up at the Black Patch? We have no bloody assurances here, Brynhild.”

Bryn nodded, clasping her hands together upon the table. “Polly, the only assurance you need is that if I wanted you dead, you would be.” Clicking her fingers, she smirked. “Faster than that. You would not even see it coming. If I were as feral and bloodthirsty as you assume, it would happen before you knew it. I have no long game to play here, there is no merit in the Shelby’s ending up exsanguinated. I have no need for your money, merely your protection during the daylight. After telling you that, now you tell me what purpose I could possibly have in being duplicitous?”

Her response was sharply delivered. “The Black Patch massacre, as I just said.”

Bryn truly hated when humans did not listen. “You would be dead already, as I just said. Besides, it was not my fight.”

“So you wouldn’t take the side of your own kind over a betrayal?”

“If a gypsy family whom were not of your blood fell out with others, would you immediately take their side simply because they were gypsy?”

She lit a cigarette, feeling nervous that the vampire so swiftly had her on the back foot. “That would depend on the circumstances.”

“If that is so, then why can the same not be applied to me, hmm?”

Polly did not enjoy witnessing her argument so flawlessly picked apart, feeling as if the neat stitches had been dropped from the needles she had knitted her opinion upon all too easily. “I see.”

“No, you don’t,” Bryn challenged, reading her like a book. “You are prejudiced against my kind because you lost your kin at the hands of vampires. I knew those responsible, this much is true, but I had no part in what happened. Furthermore, I wanted no part. I have lost too, Polly. Because of the Rasmussen’s, I...”

John felt it flare within him, a wave of distress burning through her blood, his hand reaching for her. “You alright, sweetheart?”

She swallowed hard, nodding as she turned to him. “There is something I did not reveal that happened during my incarceration at the hands of the Rasmussen’s. I do not speak it because it brings me too much pain. Pain I can barely comprehend, even after all these years.”

In getting the family to truly trust her, she knew she had to relive it in revelation. The three humans sitting at the table all waited with bated breath to hear it, just what could make an ancient vampire the likes of her suddenly become victim to her emotions. They would be the first outside of her own kind to know what had happened, too.

That spoke volumes for a vampire as guarded as Bryn had been forced to become.

#john shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #john shelby smut #peaky blinders smut #john shelby x ofc #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #peaky fucking blinders #immortal beloved #john and bryn #john shelby

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lilythesingingwitch · 3 months

Text

And I'm back with some Poppy and the Phantoms AU stuff

Once again, excuse the lack of tails in the drawings, I always forget to draw them, but they will be present when I have the time to digitalize these

So, we're staring off with Floyd

The second youngest in the family and the pianist of the group, the sensitive one (title given by JD when they started the band). He was pretty young when JD came up with the idea of a band, but was pretty excited nonetheless. When he noticed that the arguments between his brothers were becoming a more frequent thing on day to day basis, he decided to do everything in his power to help his brothers get along, despite being him being the youngest band member. However, on one night, when they were practising for their most important concert yet, Floyd was unable to stop his brothers from picking a fight with one another that ended in Bruce and Clay declaring they are leaving the band, and John, Bruce and Clay leaving home all together when he was only 10. He stays with Branch and grandma Rosiepuff, hoping that his brothers will eventually come back or at least reach out. During the 6 years that they're absent, he only ever recieves a card from Bruce, and the next time he hears about his brothers, is when police and ambulance cars park outside of their house with the news that all three of his brothers are dead. Next 15 years of his life are spent taking care of Branch and healing from the past 2 decades, with Viva, Clays friend, helping him along the way, since they both lost someone important to them.

(Things written on the paper)

Played the keys (or piano) in Brozone

Was always trying to get his brothers to stop fighting

Stayed with Branch and grandma when others left

Went gray for a bit after the new of his brothers deaths

Was 16 when they died

Is 31 at the time that Poppy discovers the phantoms

He and Branch still live together

Cried when he realized that Poppy's band are the "holograms" of his brothers (he also knows they're not holograms)

Branch's second biggest hype-man when he confesses to Poppy (John is the first)

Next up, we have our favourite hermit, Branch

When Branch was born, he had about 3 years to enjoy a normal family life with all of his brothers before his oldest brother John Dory starts teaching him how to play guitar with a promise that he'll become part of the band one day. He always looked up to all of his brothers and how talented they were, he really wanted to be apart of it, so he always attended their practices and spent hours a day playing guitar. He always witnessed their arguments and fights, and while he was always upset when they did that, Floyd was always there to comfort him, and his brothers always apologized to him for making him watch them fight like that. Then, one day, his brothers leave after a big fight, and only Floyd stays. He would always ask him why their brothers left and when are they coming back, and Floyd would always just smile and say "They just need some time to cool off, they'll be back soon". But as he grew older, he noticed hope in his brothers eyes slowly dim the more he would tell him that. And then, a few weeks after he turns 10, they receive the new that his brothers are not coming back. And the next thing he knows, he and Floyd are blowing out his brothers' birthday candles.

(Things written on the paper)

Was going to be secondary guitar in Brozone, but the band disbanded

His brothers' deaths affect him more than he likes to admit, mostly because he knew to for only a little while and only ever learns more about them from Floyd

Still plays guitar, but prefers to spend his time elsewhere

Was 10 at the time his brothers died

Best friends with Poppy (and is trying to confess his love for her)

And last up for today, Viva la viva baby

Viva was one of the biggest fans of Brozone when they became a band, mostly because her best friend was apart of it, and she really wanted to support him. She was also the one who would always comfort Clay when he would come to her after a frustrating practice session. Then, when she's 12, Clay comes to her asking if he could stay for a while, only to learn that he, Bruce and JD left the band and their house. He really didn't feel like going back to his own house after storming out like that, but he also knew he couldn't stay at Viva's for too long, since their family had a lot on their hands as is (with Poppy just turning 2), so he spent there a few days before leaving to stay with another friend of theirs. After that, he and Viva would hang out all the time, since he finally had the time to do so, and while they were pretty much polar opposites (Viva was always a ball of energy, joy, chaos and silliness, Clay was serious, read sad books all the time and was the one who kept Viva in check), that didn't stop Viva from falling in love with him. When she turned 18, she even got into the same university as Clay to be close to him, when one day she gets stuck in the uni building during the fire, and Clay runs in to help her. While Viva is panicking, thinking she'll never see her family again, never see her baby sister grow up, Clay turns to her and confesses his feelings to her. Before Viva can respond, she gets pushed out of the building right as it collapses. While getting treated in the hospital, she's constantly asking if Clay is ok, only to learn that he died. At the funural, she and Floyd start talking and become friends, helping each other heal as years go by.

(Thing written on the paper)

Poor Viva lost her best friend (almost boyfriend) and then her mom

Was in love with Clay

Lives with Poppy and their dad

Has scars and burn marks from the incident (Their not visible in the drawing but I promise they're there)

Was 18 when Clay died

Is 33 at the time that Poppy discovers the phantoms

Doesn't like open fire

She and Floyd kinda become friends as a way of coping with Clays death

Also cried when she saw Poppy performing with the "holograms"

Neckless is a gift from Clay

Realized that Poppy is friends with ghosts after a series of things happening around the house and her sister acting weird

No bonus doodle this time, hadn't had the time to do much drawing, but I hope you still liked what I prepared

#art #my art #trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls dreamworks #trolls brozone #trolls viva #trolls branch #trolls floyd #patp au #poppy and the phantoms au

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lunnybunny12 · 2 years

Text

Eddie Munson X Reader

You play?

A/n: never written for Eddie before and not proud of this might edit this doen the line if i make a part 2

Masterlist

Requests are open

"You come across a mess hall, filled to the brim with all sorts of faces and creatures from far off lands that you had never heard of. everyone is holding frothing gords if ale and overall having a good time."

It was quiet. Then again the shop was always quiet on weekdays... and weekends when you thought about it.

"This is SO boring!" Jessica groaned. "We've been doing this for hours"

You glared at her. " Were not even doing a campaign. I'm just running through the story"

"It's still boring"

Dnd was never Jessies thing. It was just something she pretended to care about to keep you happy. She'd go along with it as long for short periods but she eventually tired of it.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and walked to the back room where tom was sat checking the computer.

"Oh let them complain." Tom chuckled " You won't see her again after today. Then you can clock out and forget all about this place."

You raked your hands through your hair and sat next to Tom.

Tom was the best boss you ever had. He was like if Santa Claus had a baby with John Candy. Very kind and sweet old man with a can-do attitude to boot. You always really liked Tom.

"I know, I'm just...."

"Nervous? Everyone gets nervous when they go to a new school. It's natural." He smiled and tapped your leg.

"What if no one likes me?"

Tom just laughed and looked at you through his thick glasses. "If no one likes you then THEY are the ones missing out. Not you. And with your looks and imagination? Their gonna love you in Hawkins."

"Thanks, Tom." You stood and grabbed your bag from the coat hooks.

"Will I still have a job here next summer?"

"Hell,y/n you'll have a job here for as long as you like. But on one condition."

"Shoot."

"Find some friends... Make an effort. Ok?"

"Ok, Tom. I will" you said hugging him. "Thank you"

---------

Hawkins High was small compared to what you were used to.

Built wall to ceilings with thick, cheap cinder blocks, painted in the school's green and orange colour scheme that made your eyes burn.

Dotted around the hallways were large panels of cork, drowning in sheets of paper and laminated notices.

You were about to walk past when you saw a piece of white paper with a devil on it that read "Hellfire club. needing new blood"

"Hellfire club?.... the hell is that?" you mumbled to yourself.

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

Halfway through lunch, you found a seat at an almost empty table and began scribbling in your notebook.

"A goblin enemy? no. half-ork? Dragon born?..... Dragon born."

At the other end of the table, a pair of eyes were flickering over to you every few seconds. They scanned you up and down in curiosity.

"Eddie, stop staring at the new girl dude it's creepy," Dustin said. mouth full of food.

"Hush Henderson, I am simply observing."

"Well "observe" them less creepily. Besides we need to be looking for new members, not girlfriends."

"I mean he's got a point there Eddie." Mike piped in from next to Dustin " With Lucas in the basketball team, who knows when he'll be coming next"

Eddie wasn't paying attention. He was still observing you intently. Your hands still jotting down whatever was in your head. He watched your lips move as you re-read your work. He was fascinated by you.

Your hair was done in your favourite style and the oversized jacket you wore made you look cute. At least to him anyway.

"shit!" you whispered to yourself as you tugged your book bag to the seat next to you and rummaged around.

The jibber-jabber of the freshmen was like white noise to the mettle head at that point. Twisting the rings on his fingers until he saw you pull a familiar red book from your bag.

He immediately sprang to his feet and walked to you. For a few seconds, he lingered behind you, reading what little he could see in your notebook. His eyes weren't deceiving him, what he saw you pull out of the bag was a pretty battered looking Dnd players handbook.

With a smile, he flapped his arms about and mouthed to the boys " She plays!!"

Both Dustin and Mike looked at him like he was crazy "What?"

"She plays DnD!!" he whisper shouted from behind you.

At hearing the little conversation you giggled and looked at the man behind you. He was pretty tall, lanky with chocolate brown eyes and hair that would make the whole band of Queen jealous. He wore black ripped jeans, a blue denim jacket that had different band badges and pins on it (some you recognised), white sneakers and a black and white baseball t-shirt with the words "Hellfire club" printed on it.

"Hellfire?" you mumbled

You must have been looking at him longer than you were supposed to because you were pulled from your thoughts when you heard the man joke " Like what you see, princess?"

"Yes, I'm loving the Ozzy Osborn look. very cute"

Eddie laughed and looked a little pink.

"Sorry about him," Henderson said. " He's just excited you play DnD"

You looked directly at the man in front of you and said "Dungeons and Dragons? Is that what Hellfire is? A DnD club?"

The smile that rose on your face when you realised what Hellfire was made Eddie smile right back.

He straddled the seat next to you and got insanely close to your face. In response, you laughed and covered your face trying to hide your blush.

At getting a closer look at him, you thought he was pretty. Deep brown eyes, a nice smile, practically invisible stubble and just an overall kind vibe.

"It is indeed little lady" Eddie smiled "Eddie Munson"

" (Your full name)... you guys looking for new members?"

#stranger things season 4 #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #hellfire club

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lenna-z · 5 months

Text

Hii! This is a little something floating around in my mind, I hope you enjoy!

(I apologize in advance for any mistakes...)

"Canopus"

•••☆•••

People trusted them and as IR personnel, they took responsibility for those people's lives.

But then came the days when they could not save the lives for which they took responsibility.

Virgil was remembering his first one. He had told himself a million times that he should have been in that person's place.

He had created many scenarios in his mind to save that girl.

But it was too late for her...

He was also remembering Scott's first too. At that time, It was easy to be there for his brother and comfort him, until he had his own...

Gordon's first happened while he was there. While the people on the island were supposed to be taking care of Gordon, they were also comforting him.

Everyone who was comforting was saying the same thing, even if they didn't want to believe it, "You can't save everyone."

Although Virgil said this sentence to console him or his brothers, he didn't believe until his sister's first time... No one knew until John informed them that someone had died, and this was the day after it happened.

Years had passed for some, months had passed for some, but he didn't think anyone had forgotten their first.

Even their father said he felt guilty because they were left with this responsibility.

They would never have believed it if you had told them before, but they found their father and brought him back home.

They were all doting over him as he tried to get used back to the gravity of the world.

Unfortunately, while everything was going well, the first loss of his youngest brother descended on the island like fog.

They all remembered what it was like to experience their first loss, but still, no one expected to see Alan like this.

So even though it was past two in the morning and he was just going to the kitchen to get a snack, he couldn't pass up the opportunity when he found Alan alone.

His brother was watching the stars on the terrace, with his arms folded across his chest.

Even though he wasn't outside, the coolness of the night was undeniable, so he grabbed a blanket from the living room and slowly walked towards his brother.

He could see him trembling slightly as he got closer to him, and it increased the anxiety in his chest.

He was taking his steps a little louder to let him know that he was approaching him.

"Hey, Allie."

He wasn't sure if he wanted to talk right now. He had every right if he wanted to be alone.

He relaxed a little when his dull eyes looked him up and down and slowly shifted to make room for him in his seat.

He gently placed the blanket on his brother's shoulders and sat down quietly on the spot he had opened for him.

He didn't intend to start the conversation, though, because he wasn't sure if he only wanted a quiet friend by his side.

So he joined him in stargazing and started looking for the constellations' he knew by heart.

"Dad said it might be good to talk to you."

Their father was happy to finally be there for them when they needed him, and he hadn't missed an opportunity to do so since he came home.

"So... do you want to talk?"

He hugged the blanket around his shoulders tighter and a tear rolled down one of his cheeks.

"Oh Alan-"

"How... How do you do this?" He took a deep breath. "How could you forget them, Virgil? Because- I- I can't stop thinking..."

His eyes were still on the sky. It was a familiar method of evasion, something they all did.

"Honestly Alan, it is not possible to forget them, I think we just... learn to live with this feeling."

He shook his head as his eyes looked down. "It was easier to comfort Gordon without knowing what this feeling was like."

He could guess what was going through his mind.

He was thinking if he had a chance to save that man.

He was thinking if the result would have been the same if he had done things differently.

And he was thinking about these things alone before he came home at noon...

"Do you remember what you said to Gordon that day, Alan?"

He was sure a lot had been said, but he hoped he would understand the point he was getting at and give the right answer.

He sniffed softly and looked at him. "You can't save everyone."

"Yeah, we can't save everyone, Alan."

He continued to shake his head in protest.

"He trusted me, Virgil. Even when he realized that he couldn't succeed, he didn't blame me, he was still thanking me for risking my life for him... He- he had a family..."

He turned his head to the stars again.

"I should have saved him."

"Even if it didn't happen this time, it would happen one day, Alan... And if it wasn't that man, it would be someone else."

It could have been him. This is what Kayo experienced.

"This is the meaning of 'you can't save everyone', it's not just a saying hanging in the air."

He needed to understand this because unfortunately this wouldn't be his last.

"So after a while you get used to that feeling?"

"I remember the first time I lost someone like it was yesterday, Alan, and the one after that, and the one after that..."

And the fear of losing someone in rescues never went away.

"However, when I think about the people whose lives we saved...yeah, we can't save everyone and that's part of our lives."

You could see from his eyes that he was starting to understand something.

"So this feeling is still there..?"

He nodded quietly. "Like I said, you learn to live with it."

He always wished they didn't have to go through this, but nature had a law.

He looked better than when he first saw him, and he was glad that the conversation was doing some good.

"Do you think she's still proud of us?"

The question was unexpected. Involuntarily, when he too looked at the stars, he noticed where Alan was looking.

Canopus.

It was the brightest star visible from the island. John and Alan called it their mother's star because it was so bright.

Oh.

Of course.

He was looking at that star from the beginning.

"Of course she is, Alan. You remember what Dad said, right? Look at what we've achieved so far."

He turned to face him for eye contact because he needed him to believe it.

He turned to him with a sad smile and began to approach him with open arms.

Without a second thought, he returned the gesture and slid one arm around his waist, pulling him closer.

He was too wide for his arms to wrap around him, but he still hugged him tightly.

"Thank you, Virgil." His voice was muffled because he buried his face in his chest.

He turned his face to the sky again. It didn't take long for him to find the brightest star.

The star winked as if she understood him.

"Always brother, always."

•••☆•••

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #virgil tracy #alan tracy #lenna writes #thunderbirds

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