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blue-mood-blue · 5 months

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I’ve grown to appreciate the aus where Shen Yuan enters the story as “Shen Yuan” - same name, probably similar face, generally able to interact with PIDW as himself and change the story through his added presence. I like the sense of “if only you’d been here, things might have been better the first time around” of it all.

And I was thinking, it’s a funny coincidence in that scenario that someone named Shen Yuan gets put into… another Shen Yuan. What are the chances? What a weird twist of fate that Airplane would pick out the name that his most dedicated critic could slip into seamlessly.

What about a version where it’s not coincidence at all?

Airplane goes to school with a kid named Shen Yuan. He’s prickly and hard to approach and a little intense, but Airplane is persistent. In fairness, Airplane is relentless - and maybe it’s a good thing that they end up being friends, because they’re a little too much for anyone else to handle. They balance each other out. They’re the “weird kids” in class and they’re okay with that, because even when they don’t have any words for it, they know they’re not like their classmates, not really. That’s okay; they don’t want to be.

Recesses and breaks are consumed with the elaborate stories that Airplane wants to tell, and all the holes Shen Yuan pokes into them. It’s not mean-spirited, though, even though Shen Yuan isn’t the kind to temper his words. It’s passionate. He cares about those stories the way Airplane cares about them, and it can’t be mistaken for anything else when they lean together conspiratorially across the lunchroom table. They’ve both got notebooks filled with details and characters and monsters. Shen Yuan’s practically got a whole bestiary sketched out in wobbly childhood attempts at art, entries fervently scrawled beside them. Airplane prattles out plots nonstop, always with the promise of shining eyes and being asked “what happens next?”

They come up with a whole world together. Airplane’s going to write about it someday. Shen Yuan is going to read every word.

Shen Yuan misses school. Shen Yuan starts missing school a lot.

Airplane goes to the hospital room instead. He doesn’t think to worry, because Shen Yuan is okay - that’s what he says. He looks okay, and he’s a kid, and it doesn’t feel real that anything bad should happen to a kid. He doesn’t think to worry. He doesn’t think to say goodbye.

It’s one of the older Shen brothers who catches him on the way up to the room one day, in the hallway just outside - snaps at him to go the fuck home, and when Airplane hesitates, pushes him into the elevator and tells him not to come back. “Tells” is a generous way to describe the way the words come out - a growl, a hiss, the sound an animal would make when a hand got too close to a wound.

(It’s not fair to name a villain after him, even if the name never really comes up in the story. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He’d lost a brother minutes before, and he was getting his brother’s friend out of the way so he didn’t have to… see. It isn’t fair, but then, none of it is fair.)

Death feels very real after that.

The notebooks get shoved into a closet, and it’s not until Airplane’s moving out and one falls on him from a high shelf that he thinks about it again. He’s written things, lots of things, but nothing as ambitious as this - nothing as important. It could be good, he considers. He’d promised. Shen Yuan wanted to read it.

The problem was that no one else does, not for a long time, not until Airplane has whittled himself and his art into a corner and into such an unfamiliar shape that he has to wonder how it’s still his own face he sees in the mirror. He has to eat. He has to pay rent. Shen Yuan would yell at him, but Shen Yuan isn’t there to yell at him, and who cares. Who cares if it could have been better? The people who actually are here love it, and it’s paying his bills, and sometimes stories don’t go the way they’re supposed to and the world is fucking unfair. It doesn’t matter.

(It does. But he shoves that thought away along with styrofoam cups and soda bottles to the bottom of a garbage bag.)

Authors are not gods and their power is limited, but Airplane exercises just a sliver of what he’s been granted and gifts an inconsequential sort of immortality. He thinks about making him a rogue cultivator, maybe the kind that goes around documenting beasts and compiling his findings. He thinks about making him someone too powerful for death to touch, or too important to threaten, but when Airplane looks at the world he crafted and everything that’s become of it, it feels like the kindest thing he can do for Shen Yuan is a childhood where he’s loved, and a death that’s peaceful. What does it say about that world, that he’d kill off his best friend too early again instead of making him live there?

(The best writing he ever does is the only, shining moment of humanity that his scum villain ever displays: a lament about death that comes too early, about a brother gone too soon. The commenters praise him. The commenters flatter over how real the emotions feel. The commenters don’t get any response from Airplane on that chapter.)

Death is incredibly real when it comes for him too early, too, still hovering over his keyboard with the story technically finished and incredibly incomplete. Airplane could tell himself that’s because the written version can never be the version in the writer’s head, always shifting and with every possibility still on the table, but he knows better than that. The System knows better than that, with its condescending message about “improving” his writing and “closing plot holes” and “achieving his original vision”...

…and he’s a child again. He’s a child in his own story, he’s Shang Qinghua now without the benefit yet of a peak or cultivation or anything, and maybe he’s a little bitter, and a little scared, and…

And Shen Yuan - with longer hair, with robes, with a couple of older kids watching him from across the street, but undeniably the prickly little boy who used to sit down imperiously across from him and tell him everything that was wrong with the chuck of writing that had been handed to him last period, but with that smile that said he was only invested because he knew it could be better and they were going to make it better - marches up to him with a fire in his eyes and a frown that warns of a coming tirade.

“You told it wrong,” is the first thing he says.

Shang Qinghua wants to ask how him how he’s here, how this is possible, or maybe laugh because, yeah - yeah, Shen Yuan has no goddamn idea how wrong he got absolutely everything.

(Shang Qinghua wants to say “I missed you” and “why did you leave so soon” but he’s here now. He’s right here.)

“I know,” he says instead. “I’m sorry. It all kind of… spiraled out of control.”

Shen Yuan frowns, but then it dissipates the way it always does, and his eyes shine with ideas the way they always used to. “That’s okay,” he relents, grabbing for his hand. “We’ll fix it. We’ll make it what it was supposed to be.”

#scum villain self saving system #svsss #shang qinghua #shen yuan #airplane shooting towards the sky #this got more into the feelings than i thought it would #surprising no one #anyway just! childhood friends au! as a reason for a shen yuan insert!#obviously he is not going to die as a child in this version #shang qinghua would not have that nope not again #also pls consider poor shen jiu who looks at this child that shen yuan has picked out for a best friend like '...really? that one??'#(it's up to you if he's shen yuan's actual brother from his first life)#(put there's a part of me that likes the idea that shen jiu also gets a second chance to spend more time with his brother)#a second chance for them to grow up together!#THAT SAID #RIP TO SHANG QINGHUA #WHEN SHEN YUAN IS OLD ENOUGH TO LEARN ABOUT ALL THE PAPAPA #the LOOKS shang qinghua is going to get #anyway here have a thing because I CANNOT add another au to my drafts thank you and goodbyyyyye

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herlondonboy · 3 months

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i bet on losing dogs, clarisse la rue

summary: based on this request. you’re in love with clarisse, but she’s in love with another.

warnings: unrequited love, ruegard, angst, no happy ending, swear word.

wc: 1.4k

clarisse was a drug. it didn’t matter what drug she was, though, you just knew you were addicted. you didn’t really know why she decided you were to be her friend. her group was small. a few siblings of hers, chris rodriguez, silena beauregard, and you.

you were nothing special, just an unclaimed camper that was good with your hands. if she had to guess, clarisse would have put you in the hephaestus cabin. you were one of the best blacksmiths and she was sure if you wanted to, you could make something far better than chameleon armour.

though you disagreed, you’d never say anything to clarisse. the thought of upsetting her or making her angry at you was always there. even when you tried not to care.

clarisse first picked you up a month after you arrived at camp half blood. she spotted you working away with an anvil and some metal. she asked you what you were working on and if it was important. when you said no, clarisse smiled then told you to make her a new dagger. did she ask nicely? no. did you make it anyway? yes.

clarisse had the kind of eyes that you could drown in. deep and brown, warm. you could never say no to those eyes. no matter how sharp their glare was.

she had the kind of eyes you could fall in love with.

you realised you were in love with clarisse not very long ago. about three weeks to be exact. you were sitting next to her during the bonfire. she was staring at silena, who had been whisked away by charles beckendorf. he wasn’t bad looking, but he definitely wasn’t your type. besides, you’d spent so much time with the hephaestus kids that charles felt like a big brother to you.

you could tell clarisse was upset at the fact that silena had left. if you weren’t so blind, you would have been able to piece together why. nevertheless, you watched her side profile as it was illuminated by the fire. you watched her jaw clenched and loosen. you soaked it all in.

how you were so close that her thigh brushed up against yours, how softly she was breathing. and you realised, you were in love.

now, normally when you realise you’re in love with your friend, you would distance yourself so they never found out until they crush wore off and you could be normal again.

that wasn’t going to work with clarisse. instead, you just refused to look at her. even when she was speaking. sure, it was rude, but you didn’t care. you weren’t going to ruin your friendship over a silly little crush.

there was one part of you, though, that thought maybe your wildest dreams would come true. that clarisse would confess to you. you allowed yourself to think this because you felt her eyes on you. ever since the campfire.

they followed you. every step you took, every walk you went on, until she finally caught you alone.

clarisse didn’t like talking about feelings. she didn’t understand them very well.

‘why would you feel sick to your stomach looking at or thinking of someone you love?’ she had asked one time.

you chuckled and shook your head. ‘you feel sick to your stomach because you don’t know if they love you too. you feel that way because you need to know, but won’t ever say anything.’

“y/n!” you heard, making you flinch and turn.

you felt ill. her crooked smile, how her hair bounced as she ran.

“clarisse,” you responded softly, already thinking of all the ways you could escape this conversation.

“i need your help.”

you looked around. “another dagger? i can’t do it today, but to-“

clarisse cut you off. you forced yourself to look at her face. you noticed how rosey her cheeks were.

“can you forge a ring?” she asked. you’ve never seen her so timid. so small.

you nod slowly.

the girl opposite you grins. “great. i-i made a sketch. can you make it as close as possible to it?” she shoved it in your hand and you opened the paper.

it was just like any other ring, only…

you wanted to throw up. you should’ve known.

“‘c heart s,’” you read aloud.

the red tint on clarisse’s face deepened.

she nodded slowly. “i think i really like silena,” you voiced your worse fears. “i want to tell her before charles does. at least then if she rejects me it’s just because she doesn’t like me, not because of some guy.”

“oh,” you said.

you wondered if she could hear your heart cracking inside your chest.

“i’m going to do it during the bonfire next week for chris’s birthday.”

you nodded, forcing a smile that you were sure looked more like a grimace. “i’ll get right on this then.”

“thank you,” clarisse smiled. gods, her fucking smile. “you’re a life saver, y/n.”

the way your name rolled off her tongue like it was made for her.

and just as quickly as she came, she left.

pushing the paper down into your pockets, you pushed a bit of steel into the fire.

chris’s party was tonight. you don’t feel well enough to go. well, that’s a lie. you’re not sick in the way that means you’re going to throw up, you’re sick because the person you love loves someone else.

the thought of it brought tears to your eyes. it was embarrassing. you’d allowed yourself to fall so deeply in love with someone that could never love you.

a sob wracked through your body as you lied, staring at the wall. gods, you loved her so much.

you were so in love with clarisse la rue.

the door to the hermes cabin creaked open you were still crying. then you saw her. she was blurry, but it was her.

you don’t know how much longer you can hold it in for.

“are you okay?” she asked. she was always soft with you. soft with you. not with chris, not with silena, not with her siblings. just you.

you shook your head as you sat up in bed, shoulders shaking as your tried to be quiet.

“are you sick?”

you just cried. clarisse didn’t know what to do, so she leaned forward and hugged you.

gods, you hadn’t touched her in so long. her skin was soft, just like how your remembered it to be.

“i love you,” you choked out. you were sure if she heard it because nothing changed. then you heard a timid ‘what?’

you cried harder thinking about how she was was just hours away from confessing to silena. “i’m in love with you,” you forced out. “but you’re going to confess to silena and i’ve probably just gone and ruined our friendship. but i thought… i thought i had a chance until you asked me to make a ring for you.” clarisse just looked at you as you wiped your tears. “it’s like betting on a losing dog. it was stupid. i’m stupid.”

clarisse shook her head softly. “i didn’t know,” she murmured. “if i had known…”

“you should go,” you murmured. “wouldn’t want to lose to charles beckendorf,” you joked, clarisse just looked at you. “i’m fine. seriously. go.”

when she realised you wouldn’t take no for an answer, she left and went to the party. your tears stained on her shirt collar.

you decided not to go to chris’s party. even if he was your friend. you just couldn’t be there when clarisse took silena away from the party. you couldn’t be there when clarisse gave silena the ring you made.

hours passed before chiron called quits on the party. instead of just returning to their own cabins, some decided a small after party in the aphrodite cabin sounded like fun.

“hey,” you turned to see clarisse with a weak smile.

you smiled at her, though it pained you to do so.

“i didn’t do it.”

it took you a minute to figure out what ‘it’ was but when you did, you frowned. “why not?”

“y/n, you’re my best friend. why would i go into a relationship knowing it was killing you?”

you shrugged.

“i can wait. until your crush is over.”

that hurt. she didn’t want to hurt you, but the only way she could refrain from hurting you was by liking you back. and she’s never like you back.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse my beloved #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse pjo #please reblog #elijah writes

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jazzsonly · 8 months

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ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ

pairing(s): sam carpenter x g!p!stem!reader

warning(s): none. very very brief kiss. mentions of reader being a nerd/nerd-like. not proofread.

summary: sam might have said no to your date but you get something even better.

part two. coming soon!

────────✯────────

when you met chad, you’d never thought you would become best friends with a guy like him. he was an idiot jock, who liked to party and be shirtless.

you were a smart tutor, a somehow homebody who liked to party. so i guess, you could say that’s what you guys had in common,

partying.

you tutored chad every wednesday but one weekend at a frat party you bumped into the jock, surprisingly ending up having a drinking contest. you found it a little odd to be drinking with the same guy you’re tutoring but chad found it cool, he found you cool. he had never met anyone as smart as you but now he had never met anyone more fun than you.

as much as he loved his friends if core four, he couldn’t deny you were down for things with him they wouldn’t be. after, the partying and drinking contest together, you both got more comfortable together, setting up study dates at each other’s apartments.

those study dates eventually became call of duty battles, checking out the girls on campus together, sometimes hitting the gym together. there was no denying you and chad were newly best friends, despite ethan’s sulking jealousy.

now, you were glad you met chad but even more glad when he introduced you to the core four, more importantly sam.

sam.

you were no better than a man when you first laid your eyes on the girl, you stared at her like she was a piece of meat. it was so bad that now everytime she entered room and you were there, chad just had to joke telling you to close your mouth.

you were sure sam sorta kinda had thing for you too, from chad she was super uptight with new people, definitely not a trusting person but with you, she was chill. she sat next to you during movie nights, shared the popcorn with you, sometimes she even laid her legs in your lap.

this enflamed your crush even more, well until tara claimed it was only because she thought anyone chad brought around was just as dumb as him. and no dumb person could be ghostface.

but she was wrong, you were top of all your classes, well almost all.

fuck chemistry.

“chad, focus.” you slap the back of the boy’s head who had dozed off at the sight of tara.

“ow! i am focused!”

“stop being a baby, i didn’t even hit you that hard. now, how many vertices are in this problem?” you point at the math sketch in the textbook.

“uh…7?” you pinch the bridge of your nose.

you had been at the kitchen counter for hours trying to tutor chad but he had only gotten two questions right.

“look, don’t get mad at me you’re the one who supposed to help me know this stuff.”

“you’re impossible to teach!” you throw your hands up, dramatically letting them fall back down.

“what are you doing?” you turn your head a the familiar voice, your favorite voice.

sam who had just emerged from her room from a hibernated nap.

“trying to tutor this idiot.”

“hey!” you ignore chad, all you energy engorged with sam.

“you? tutor?”

“uh, yeah, i’m top of all my classes…well except for one.” stupid chemistry, you thought.

“you are?” you nod.

“then why are you friends with chad?”

“hey!”

“i ask myself the same thing.” sam just nods at your words, making her way to the fridge.

“can we take a break now?” you flag chad off and he takes that was his leeway to take the couch with tara.

“soo…sam?” you move your way around the counter.

“yea?” she answered despite her back away from you as her eyes scanned the fridge.

“i was thinking, i mean if you want to uh go to a movie with me?”

you watched as her movements paused and she turned towards you, you couldn’t pinpoint what she was feeling or her facial expression but there was something there.

“sorry but i can’t…” she trailed off, closing the fridge and seemingly retreating back down the hallway into her room.

you stood there, dumbfounded.

dumbfounded yet unphased, if sam carptener’s love was a challenge the nerd in you would gladly accept it.

“she’s not gonna give up, just watch.” you hear chad mumble to tara, which you flipped him off.

in the coming weeks after that you expected sam to avoid you like a plague but she did the opposite, it was like everytime you were over she went out of her way to be around you. making sure to touch your shoulder when she moved by you, hugging you as a greeting, hell she even cuddled with you on movie nights and to say the least, you did not mind.

but what you did mind was when you asked about her rejecting your advances, she would avoid it.

once again the nerd in you would not allow this, you would get to the bottom of it and right now was the perfect timing. everyone had left to the store to collect snacks for movie night, minus chad who was in tara’s room doing god knows what with the girl.

it was just you and sam, empty and open apartment, side by side on the couch while family feud played.

“so, you’re really not gonna tell me why you won’t go out with me?”

“you don’t give up do you?” the carpenter turned you, resting her hand on the back of your head, fingers getting tangled in your hair.

see.

“you’re so clingy when i’m here, so why won’t you go out with me?” you watched as she bit her lip, suppressing a taunting smile from you.

“you’re cute, you know, i think you’re cute.”

you smile, “i think you’re cute too, so go out with me?”

a breathy chuckle came from the girls lips, and she moved close to you.

“kiss me.”

“what?” you were taken back.

“kiss me before i change my mind.” and then you didn’t hesitate. you closed the little space that was between you two, landing a soft but stern kiss onto her lips. your hands finding her hips, pulling her closer and her arms found their way around your neck.

a sigh of relief and satisfaction somehow escaped your lips, while a hum escaped hers. her kiss was candy mint, it tastes good and you didn’t wanna stop but unfortunately air became an issue and you reluctantly pulled away, “so does this mean i can take you out?”

“stop asking me out.” she scoots away just in time because the door flew open and in came ethan with bags on bags while anika and mindy came behind with empty hands.

“thanks for the help.” ethan mutters sarcastically.

━━━ part two (coming soon!) take it easy on me, it’s my first time writing in MONTHS.

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #chad meeks martin #ethan landry #mindy meeks martin #scream #scream six #sam loomis #ghostface

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thetarttfuldickhead · 4 months

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It’s a little unclear, in the end, how the conversation gets there, because all in all the Richmond dressing room isn’t the site of that many sex jokes, not since Colin came out and no longer feels the need to make them. But they’re still lads, yeah, and young, mostly, so the jokes still happen, even if it’s just gentle ribbing, and silliness.

So: somehow, one morning halfway into Roy’s first year as head coach, the topic turns to sex, of the rougher variety. Roy’s only listening with half an ear, he’s busy sketching out the new trick plays Nate’s dreamed up on the whiteboard, and he doesn’t really catch the build-up, but when Jamie’s name is mentioned his ears perk up without him even really noticing. It’s become instinct at that point, keeping track of Jamie (even as Roy does his best to give all his players at least some semblance of equal attention).

“We know that Jamie likes it rough, though,” Zorro says, and the rest of the group oh:s and ah:s either knowingly or in surprised glee.

“Eh?” Jamie sounds startled by the assertion, but not particularly put off. (He never really is, as long as he gets attention, Roy thinks with an internal scoff that’s far fonder than he’d ever admit to.) “What makes you say that?”

“You told us!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Roy can see Jamie shake his head. “I don’t know what you’re on about, mate.” Still not bothered, but clearly not understanding what Zorro is getting at either.

Isaac throws him a disbelieving glance. “You don’t remember, bruv? It was when you first came here, before you started going out with Keeley.”

“Yeah,” Colin interjects, “You’d only been here for about two weeks, I think, but you came into training with these marks and bruises, and it turned out you’d hooked up with a girl the night before, but you hadn’t known she was a professional dominatrix before you got to her place.”

Hoots and titters at that, delighted and amused but not unkind.

“Exactly,” Zorro says. “And you told us you’d just gone with it because you have to try everything at least once, and it hadn’t been bad.”

Ah. Roy remembers now. He’d already been absolutely fed-up with Jamie’s attitude, the arrogance and selfishness and incessant need to put others down, and the striker’s total lack of shame and casual smugness about the marks had rubbed Roy entirely the wrong way. Not because people should be ashamed for liking that sort of stuff, of course (Roy wasn’t), but there was such a thing as common decency and unspoken rules about not parading around the dressing room like you were in a fucking porno or some shit and—

If Roy was honest about it, he’d mostly been pissed because it was Jamie, and everything Jaime did pissed him off back then (though, to be fair, most of what Jamie did back then was fucking shitty, so it’s not like Roy was wrong to be pissed. Most of the time).

“Oh.” Jamie’s voice is soft, suddenly. Small, in a way that has alarm bells going off like air raid sirens in Roy’s head. “Yeah. Um.”

The realisation hits Roy a second before it does the rest of the team, and his ears are already filling with a terrible ringing as the room falls silent behind him. He can feel himself grow rigid with rage, and with cold, curdling shame.

“Shit, man,” Isaac says eventually.

“Jamie, I’m so sorry.” It’s odd, the way Colin’s earnest, unhappy voice seems to be coming from so very far away.

“What?” Zorro, still not getting it, and then he does, and Roy, at a great distance, can hear his face crumpling. “Oh shit, Jamie, I didn’t mean—“

“No, don’t worry about it, man. It was a long time ago, yeah? It’s fine.” It’s a heroic attempt at sounding casual. Might have succeeded, too, back before they all knew Jamie as well as the do now.

Roy doesn’t stick around to hear the team offer their comfort and Jamie try to wave their concern away. He walks into the coaches’ office, and the only reason he doesn’t slam the door as hard as he can is because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.

“You all right there, Coach?” Beard looks up at him from behind his book, brow creased in quiet assessment.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Nate jumps down from the desk he’s been perched on. “Did someone die?”

And Roy wants to tell them to fuck off. Wants to punch the wall so hard it stops his mind from spinning. But he’s been talking with Dr. Fieldstone about that, hasn’t he, how his maladaptive coping strategies are tripping him up, and fucking over the people he cares about in the process.

So he takes a deep breath. And he doesn’t look at them when he starts talking. “Back before Ted came here Jamie came in with these bruises all over his chest and back one day, and he told us he’d had sex with a fucking dominatrix. And I believed him, okay? I just… I fucking believed him, even though it was weird fucking bruises for— That’s not the fucking point. But because I thought he was an arrogant fucking prick and I fucking hated his guts, I told him— “ He trails off, looking up at the ceiling. Uselessly, his cheeks are burning. Maybe his eyes are, too, if he’d let himself feel it. “I told him I’d be happy to pay to see someone give him a trashing. Give ‘em extra if they knocked a couple of his teeth out so he’d shut up for once.”

Beard doesn’t say anything, but he leans back in his chair with a look on his face that lets Roy know that, yeah, he’d fucked that one up good and proper.

“Oh,” Nate says. “So it was his dad who— That’s— But— I mean, that’s not good, obviously, that’s awful, but it’s… It wasn’t you who hurt him, Roy. And I mean, you and Jamie have said all sorts of thing to each other. Done all sorts of things.”

And that’s true, isn’t it. And mostly Roy is happy enough to write it off as tit-for-tat, old foolishness and bygones, Jamie a prick and Roy sometimes an idiot, and they’re both better now. And he doesn’t know how to explain to Nate and Beard how knowing that Jamie looked up to him ever since he was a kid, knowing that he never took that poster down, even after that, after everything, makes his casual cruelty and failure to protect Jamie all the harder to bear, even if he hadn’t known at the time that there was anything to protect Jamie from.

“Coach—“ Beard begins, but is interrupted by a knock on the door, and before Roy can tell whoever it is to fuck off, Jamie sticks his head into the office. Must have made his escape from the rest of the team, then. “Sorry, Coach, are we getting started or what? The lads— “ He catches sight of Roy’s face and his eyes widen. “Jesus, Roy, what happened? Are you all right, man?”

Under other circumstances, Roy might have found it remarkable how quickly and effortlessly Jamie makes the switch from Roy’s respectful star player to Roy’s friend, his entire demeanour changing as he moves into the room. As it is, Roy doesn’t say anything, but he must have made some sort of noise or moved some sort of way, because Jamie’s face twists in alarm, and then he’s across the floor and gently but firmly pulling Roy into a hug. “There, it’s all right, man, I’ve got you, lad, it’s all right.”

Roy blames all the fucking therapy he’d been doing for the past eight months for not pushing Jamie away but instead allowing the other to hold him, and allowing himself to hesitantly wrap his arms around him in turn. Fuck Nate. Fuck Beard. Fuck the team. Fuck anyone who thinks they get to have opinions on that.

He’s got an inch on Jamie, but Jamie’s broader, solid and strong. Steady, as he puts a hand on the back of Roy’s neck, murmuring nonsense that Roy knows is supposed to be soothing, and which maybe is. Mostly, it’s reassuring to have Jamie there, whole and hale and safe.

“What’s going on? Is Phoebe all right? Did something happen to your sister? Keeley?” Jamie is starting to sound a little freaked out, and Roy realises that he can’t just stand there mutely forever and let the fears grow in Jamie’s mind, he needs to fucking say something, explain.

He’d rather never say another word.

Tough fucking luck, Kent. “Do you remember what I told you when you said you’d had sex with a dominatrix?”

The way Jamie stiffens tells him that, yeah, Jamie does. “Roy—“

Roy tightens his grip, not wanting Jamie to pull away. “Don’t fucking tell me it was fine, because you were a nightmare for the rest of that day, you were absolutely fucking horrible to everyone.” Worse than usual, lashing out—not that Roy had known it at the time, or had thought it anything more than Jamie being a fucking prick for no other reason than to be a prick.

For a few moments, Jamie doesn’t say anything. Then he lets out a long sigh, relaxing into the embrace and pressing his face against Roy’s neck. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters, “it was all shit, mate. I mean, all of it was, it wasn’t just you— But, Roy, listen… “ And now Jamie does pull back, just enough so that he can look at Roy. His eyes are tired, but the set of his jaw determined. “You fucking hated me, right? Back then, I mean. You hated me, ‘cause I was a prick, and I hated you, ‘cause you were a bitter old cunt.”

There’s no fucking denying it, is there. Roy gives a sharp nod. “Yeah, but—“

“No, let me just— I’m not saying that makes it all right, yeah, I just— You hated me, okay. But, would you have said what you said if you’d known what really happened?”

Roy’s lips twist into snarl. “What? No! Of course I wouldn’t fucking have— “ He might have ached to put Jamie’s head through a wall several times a day, but he wouldn’t have stood by for Jamie’s piece of shit father—

“See?” The little twat has the audacity to look triumphant at that, as if he’d scored a particularly neat goal. “That’s what I’m saying, yeah? Even when you hated my guts, you wouldn’t have said that, if you’d known what was going on. But you didn’t know, ‘cause I didn’t want you to, or anyone to, and I’m an amazing actor, yeah? So, like, it’s not fine, but it’s… Don’t beat yourself up over it, man. You didn’t know.”

It’s absolution, the kind Roy doesn’t think he deserves and the Jamie is far too quick to offer. But Jamie is also right: Roy hadn’t known. Wallowing in guilt won’t do anything to change the past, or help Jamie now.

“All right,” Roy says. “But that was still a shit thing to say and I wish hadn’t done it. You never deserved any of what that arsehole did to you, and if… fuck it, when I made you feel like I thought otherwise, that was my fucking bad, and I’m sorry.”

Jamie nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, man.” And there’s a tremulousness to his faint smile that makes Roy think that for all his claims to the contrary, it had still been something Jamie needed to hear.

It does Roy’s fucking head in that Jamie’s been up to see his dad several times since he got word that James Tartt is in rehab. But they’ve argued about that already, bitterly, and Roy has very reluctantly admitted that it’s not his call. All he can do is offer Jamie whatever support he needs, whenever he wants it.

Clearing his throat, Roy gives Jaime an awkward pat on the shoulder before carefully extricating himself fully from the hug. “We’re still on for dinner with Keeley tonight?” He’ll make Jamie’s favourite dish, he decides. Throw in some dessert.

“Yeah, of course, yeah.”

“Good.” He jerks his head to the door. “Go on then, tell the lads to get on the pitch, and we’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, Coach.”

As the door shuts behind him, Roy turns on Beard and Nate who – wisely – don’t say anything.

“I don’t want to fucking talk about this,” he tells them sharply. “I don’t want you mentioning a fucking word of it ever again.” Because maybe he’s gotten to a point where having a fucking breakdown and hugging it out with Jamie in front of them isn’t the end of the world (even if it’s a near fucking thing), but if someone tries to make him discuss it, he’ll need to start head-butting people, and he’s been trying to stay off that since he became manager, because it just isn’t a good look, is it, and he’s trying to be better about that sort of thing.

Nate and Beard glance at each other. Roy doesn’t really care for the knowing look in their eyes, but they merely offer a nod and a yeah, yeah, of course, sure in reply, and that will have to do.

In this messed up world, a lot of things would have to fucking do.

“Right,” Roy says, already moving to follow Jamie. “I’ll see you on the fucking pitch.”

---

A/N: This was supposed to be the fourth of the stand alone ficlets I call The Locker Room Conversations, but it got quite a bit darker (and less team focused) than I usually do for those, so I’m not sure. I’ll sit on it for a bit, maybe fiddle a little, and see where I put it when it goes up on AO3 eventually.

If you like the idea of the team uncovering sad truths about Jamie’s past and are into heavier angst (and more of the team taking care of Jamie), I highly recommend checking out i should be the poster kid for this shit by anotherlongstoryshort / babytarttdoodoo

#well-intentioned ribbing lead to unhappy revelations #and references to earlier abuse #and roy having all the emotions about it #there’s also a very long hug because a girl’s gotta get her kicks somehow #james tartt sr is mentioned and his own warning #hurt/comfort #angst #roy kent #jamie tartt #roy & jamie #afc richmond #a team of himbos #who mean well even when they get it wrong #fic #my stuff

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angstics · 1 year

Text

Who did the artwork for [Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge]? Gerard: I did. You like it? Yes, very much. Gerard: Actually, I did a bunch of artwork -a whole bunch of stuff that didn’t make it on the record. I just didn’t want it on, and we used that stuff on the hoodies. I’ll tell you a funny story about it. I went in to the head of the Art Department at Warner. He’s a guy with a lot of history. He’s worked on Beatles stuff. He’s been in the business. Did you seen the VH1 thing with Fleetwood Mac? That band had a big special air on Sunday, and it was the making of their last record. He’s there. He’s in it. I’m sitting there and watching it like, “Holy shit.” Anyway, I go in with this book, this sketchbook of all this watercolor stuff, because I was going to use that as a basis for what the photographer was going to do. We have a photographer I really love, Justin Borucki. He ended up doing all the photos of the band for the record. But he was supposed to do this set up of a man and a woman. It was supposed to be a photo of them covered in blood. So, I pass all my sketches over, and he’s sitting there looking at them and he’s like, “What do you want me to do with these?” I was like, “I’m just going to give them to the photographer and he’s going to recreate the situation.” He goes, “How come you’re not using these?” I’m like, “I don’t know. I haven’t done art in years.” So, I didn’t think of myself that way. I didn’t think they were good enough. He loved them. He was like, “This is your cover, dude.” I was really surprised. It’s very gory, but I guess because it’s watercolor, it’s very tasteful, which is why he actually preferred all of them. Because if we put people there, it would look like a hardcore record. It would look like a movie poster for some weird movie. So, I was like, “Alright. Ok, let’s do it.” So, that’s how that came about. We have two versions of it too. There’s another gorier version that I actually didn’t like because the guy came out bad. The girl came out great. It didn’t look right. The other one is more tasteful.

starsandscars.com | Skate & Surf Festival 2004

#mcr #mcr: 2004 #gerard way

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moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

Also would love more of the art student x stem student peter writing,, again totally just self indulgent here but I adore their dynamic I could go on forever, like study dates but she’s working and Peter hangs around revising notes in her studio and they both just accompany each other AGHHH I could think about them for ages

-🍁🤭

Thanks lovely!

tasm!Peter Parker x artist!reader ♡ 727 words

Your hand comes into view, taking Peter’s attention from his notes for the first time in hours as you slide a paper plate stacked with pizza slices towards him.

“They were out of stir fry,” you say, “but they let me take extra pizza since they felt bad.”

Peter blinks, realizing his eyes are dry and achy. “When did you get this?”

“Just now,” you say, though it sounds like a question. Your brows twitch towards each other, somewhere between bemused and concerned. “Pete, I’ve been gone for like a half hour. You didn’t notice?”

Peter blinks again, hard. He gives his head a little shake. “No, I, uh…I guess I was too distracted. Thanks for the pizza.”

“Course.” You kiss the top of his head as you round the table, sitting down across from him with a couple slices of your own. Peter watches as you zone back into your work, a pensive frown coming to your face. You’re in the beginning stages of a new project, and the last few hours have been a frustrating cycle of erasing, sketching, and erasing again. Peter doesn’t get how you can even see through all the faded, half-removed lines on your page.

“How’s it going?” he asks, tentative.

Your frown worsens. “Not bad,” you say, in a tone that says not great, either. “I’ve landed on an idea, but it just…it doesn’t feel perfect. I don’t want to start and then have to change my mind again.”

“Didn’t you say that’s how it usually goes?” he prompts.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and you sound so upset about it that Peter has to—just has to—reach across the table and take your hand. You offer him a small smile and return the squeeze he gives your fingers.

“Want a break?” he asks you, and you raise your eyebrows.

“I just took my break,” you remind him.

It’s difficult to love someone and see them treat themselves how you treat yourself. Peter would count a run to the dining hall as a break, too, but he doesn’t like it when you do it. Still, that doesn’t give him a lot of ground for argument.

“Then can I see?” he tries, hoping talking it through will make you feel better.

You chew your lip for a second before nodding, going to slide your paper towards him.

“Nope, hold on.” Peter stands up on his seat, stepping one gangly leg and then the other over the table before lowering himself into the chair beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, hugging you so that your face is squished against his bicep. “Better,” he says. “Go on.”

You laugh at his over-the-top affection, but don’t move away, going into the details of your original idea versus what you’ve come up with on paper. The abstract always falls short of the concrete, Peter knows that, and yet he feels your disappointment in your inability to fulfill the full scope of your vision acutely. You grow more animated as you talk, eventually bringing the paper closer and sketching while he watches. Peter suggests his own solutions as you work. They’re useless of course, but he knows that having a sounding board helps you think, so he’ll keep the conversation going any way he can. To your credit, you don’t tell him all the ways he’s wrong. You only hmm and huh and then do your idea anyway.

After a while, you come up with something you’re happier with. It’s still not perfect, but Peter reminds you again of your own tenets; that it never will be, and your only job is to do the best you can with what you have. You’re smiling by now, so it’s a win in his book.

“You gonna talk me through your biochem notes now?” you ask him cheerily.

“Aw, sweetheart.” He kisses the side of your head. “You’re a gem for offering, but we both know you’ll get a headache.”

“I’ll eat my pizza while you talk,” you propose, picking up a now cold slice of your dinner. “C’mon, it’s only fair.”

Peter grins at you, your face lined with tiredness and hand stained with silver pencil lead but eyes alight with that fizzy energy you get from creation. “Okay,” he concedes. “But when we go home, we’re watching the most mindless show we can find on TV.”

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nyxoz · 2 years

Note

reader goes to buy weed from eddie but realizes they don’t have the cash and pays eddie in other ways 😉😌

so this took a mind of its own and suddenly i have a 5k fic on my hands... i haven't written smut in a hot minute so please bare with me!!!

Eddie x Reader

reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns

words: 5k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, semi public sex, drugs (weed), swearing.

You heard it from Stacey Carmichael, who heard it from Jackson Sommers, who heard it from Jason Carver that Reefer Rick was back in the clink.

This turned your bad day into an even worse one. Rick was your plug, had been since junior year, and now you were coming into the weekend with no weed.

Rick wouldn’t be your first choice of dealer, firstly he was old, like 40, secondly, he was kind of creepy. But creepy worked in your favour. Rick thought you were smokin’ (his words, not yours) and gave you discounted merch just because he liked seeing your pretty face. He was too much of a stoner to do more than ogle you from his musty stained couch, so that set your mind at ease and let you accept the absolute steal you were getting.

Your mission before the end of lunch was to locate a new hookup. You knew Eddie Munson, the ringleader of the ‘Hellfire Club’ dealt, everyone did. You’re sure even some of the teachers knew. So, as soon as the bell rang for the end of the fourth period, you were the first person out of the classroom.

As you speed walk down the hallway, there’s a note burning a hole in your hand, written in your curly writing; “Reefer’s down for the count, need a new middleman. Picnic table in the woods behind the track field after school.”

You stop in front of a locker with a hellfire sticker on it and look both ways before quickly shoving the piece of paper into the vent cracks and speeding away.

By the time the final bell rings, you’ve already chewed all your nails off in anticipation. You hate meeting new people. Especially new drug dealers. But you’re especially apprehensive about meeting someone like Eddie. He seems like a lot. You’ve watched him jump on tables in the cafeteria, call out the jocks and bullies alike, and seem fearless like the world was his oyster.

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you kind of admire him.

Eddie was courageous. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him, and if he did he did a damn good job of hiding it. What you saw was what you got, and that scared you. You could never be like that, you were ashamed that you weren’t as free as him. What would he think of you? You’re just some nobody senior requesting his presence in the damn woods after school.

But what made you more nervous out of all of it, was how goddamn attractive you found him.

His big doe eyes and cheeky grin caught you off guard every time you stumbled across them. You remember staring at the tattoos you could see peeking out from his shirt and sketching them in the back of your mathematics book during class.

Okay, so, maybe you had a small crush.

Crush aside, you were set on getting some weed and doing it smoothly.

You waited about fifteen minutes after the bell rang to make your way out to the woods. You held onto the straps of your backpack as you hiked through the foliage and towards the old picnic table. As you peeked through the clearing, you saw Eddie sitting at the table drumming his fingers against the wood and looking up at the trees above him.

He looks at you as you come closer and raises his brows in slight surprise before offering a big smile.

“Thought I was being stood up.” He says.

You shrug your bag off and drop it on the table before taking a seat, “Sorry, didn’t want anyone catching me.”

He nods understandingly, “No stress, m’lady, just happy that you’re here.” He extends his hand out, “I’m Eddie.”

You smile a little and extend yours out, you grasp his big hand and feel the callouses on them. You remember that he’s in a band, you saw them perform at the middle school talent show one year. Corroded Coffin. That sounds right.

“I know,” You laugh and introduce yourself.

He laughs back, “Pleasure to meet you.” He retracts his hand and claps them before rubbing them together, “Now! What can little ol’ me do for you on this fine Friday afternoon?”

You bite at your lip to dampen your smile.

“Rick’s gone, as you probably know, and I’m just looking for some weed.”

He stares right into your eyes as you talk, like every word you’re saying is the most important thing on earth. It makes your cheeks warm and you hope he doesn’t notice.

“Rick is gone! Such a shame, looks like he’ll be in the slammer for at least ten months. Idiot got caught jaywalking while carrying a pretty substantial amount of illegal substances on his person.” Eddie explains with wide eyes, “Can you believe that?”

You laugh at his stunned face, “Yeah, Rick is pretty much the ultimate dumbass burnout, so it doesn’t surprise me one bit.”

Eddie laughs at that. That makes you smile no matter how hard you try not to.

“Can I ask, why even go to Rick when you know you’ve got a dealer at school?” Eddie queries.

You shrug and look down at Eddie’s hands, finding staring into his eyes a bit too much.

“Met him at a party at the start of junior year, gave me discounted weed and never stopped so I just stuck with him I guess? I ain’t gonna turn down cheap grass.”

You look back up and Eddie’s lips pout out a bit as he nods.

“Why’d he give it for cheap?”

You shrug again and scrunch your nose, a little embarrassed, “He said, and I quote ‘smokin’ gals like you shouldn’t be paying full price’ which is very nice but also very creepy considering he is old enough to be my father.”

Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ, of course he said some dumb shit like that.” He looks at you and then his eyes go wide and his hands come up in defence, “Not that you aren’t like smokin’ or whatever! ‘Cause you are! I mean, wait, not like in a creepy way, like in a normal way. But I-”

You laugh at his floundering, “Eddie!” you giggle, “It’s okay… Thank you.” You smile shyly.

Eddie smiles back with a slight grimace.

There’s a small silence before he clears his throat and reaches out for the metal lunch box sitting on the table. He opens it and you see a few bags filled with weed and also a bag of trail mix. That makes you have to hold in a laugh.

“So, what was Rick charging you?”

“Twenty for a half ounce.”

Eddie looks impressed, “Damn, you were robbing him blind.”

You nod, “I know, and I totally don’t expect you to go that low.”

He shrugs, “Twenties fine with me, I rarely do agree with Rick but he is right. Pretty ladies shouldn’t have to pay full price.” He licks over his bottom lip and smiles sheepishly at you.

You’re pretty sure your cheeks are on fire.

“Thank you, Eddie.”

You reach into your bag and look for your purse only to find it's not there. You pull your bag onto your lap and frantically search every pocket, pulling out books and papers as you go. It’s not there, you don’t have your purse. You must have left it at home. Shit, shit, shit, shit.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks after a moment.

You bring your thumb up to your lip and try biting at the already-bitten nail. You look up at Eddie, at his worried expression. You take in his big brown eyes and full lips. He licks over them again and you feel your stomach flutter at the movement.

Suddenly as you stare at the spit glossing his pink lips you get an idea.

“Uhm, slight, uh issue,” You mumble through your teeth as you continue to gnaw at your nail, “I don’t have any cash.”

Eddie frowns, “None at all?”

“I forgot my purse at home.”

Eddie’s hand comes up to the lip of his lunch box and he traces his fingers across it, “Maybe we can do this another time then, yeah?”

He goes to close the lid but your hands come out to rest on top of his and stop him. He halts his movements and looks back up at you.

“I can pay another way though?” You ask coyly.

“Uh see, it’s, unfortunately, cash only, sorry, little lady.” He looks regretful but you grip his hands a little tighter.

“I don’t think you’re getting me.” You say. “I can pay another way.”

Eddie frowns in confusion, “I don’t want whatever half-eaten sandwich or weird collectors cards you’ve got.”

“Collectors cards?” You ask.

“You’d be surprised what people try to give me.” He huffs.

You remove your hands from his and bring them to smooth down your hair before keeping them in your lap as you lean over the table, your shirt dropping low to reveal the top of your cleavage. Eddie tries very hard not to look at them but his eyes flicker down for a second before coming back to meet your eyes.

“Let’s call it, quid pro quo?” You murmur in the most flirtatious voice you can muster.

“What, like you write one of my papers or something?” He asks.

You shake your head and stand up. He watches you as you round the table and turns his body fully around to face you when you stand behind him.

You stare at each other in silence before you drop to your knees in front of him, the crackling of leaves sounding when your knees hit the ground. He stares at you with wide eyes and one of his hands comes up to wipe across his mouth and rest on his jaw.

“A different kind of favour.”

Reaching forward, your hands land on his denim-clad knees and slowly slide up his thighs.

He whispers your name. “I don’t think th-”

You cut him off, “Don’t think.”

He lets out a shaky breath as your hands continue to rub up and down his thighs.

“You don’t have to do this.”

You smile sweetly, “I know, I want to.”

“You want to?” He doesn’t sound convinced.

You tilt your head to the side as you look up at him.

“I’ve watched you y’know. During lunch, around campus. You’re fearless and funny. You talk a lot, wondered if maybe…” You trail off and sit a bit higher on your knees, bringing your face closer to his, “Wonder if maybe, you talk a lot during other things.”

“Jesus.” He sighs.

Reaching a hand up, you twirl a strand of his wavy hair around your finger before pushing your hand back into his hair and scratching along his scalp.

“You’d be doing me another favour really. Help me scratch an itch I’ve always had.”

He watches you intently, his big brown eyes boring into yours. You slide your hand out of his hair and down his jaw, down his throat, all the way down his chest and abdomen till your fingers catch the edge of his waistband.

His hand quickly drops down to yours and covers it.

“I just, I don’t know if…” he trails off, not really having anything to say but needing to say something.

“Just give me a yes or no.” You say.

Your hand still on his thigh pushes forward towards his crotch, feeling along his length. His eyes close for a second at the contact making you smile subtly.

You squeeze him through the denim when he doesn’t answer you.

“O-okay. Yeah. Yes.”

You smile and lean up, bringing up your hand that’s on his thigh to hold his cheek.

“I might be willing to blow you for weed but I want you to kiss me first.” You say, “Makes me feel less… cheap?” You shrug a little.

He nods slowly and leans down a little as you extend your neck as far as it goes, he hovers a hair from your lips for a second before pressing forward. His soft lips press against yours in a chaste kiss, he pulls away and you both stare at each other before you lean up again and press your lips against his with some more force. He groans at the contact, both his hands coming up to hold your face.

You lean on your feet and push up slowly, not breaking the kiss as you go to straddle his lap on the picnic table.

One of his hands comes down to your ass, holding you close so as not to fall backwards. He squeezes your ass through your jeans and you break the kiss with a small moan.

“That okay?” He whispers against your lips.

All you do is nod furiously before diving in to capture his lips in another kiss.

Your hands tangle in his hair. His one hand on your face caresses your cheek, a jarring comparison to the strong hand grabbing your bum.

He sucks on your bottom lip, tasting every inch of you.

You moan out as he squeezes your ass once more and Eddie takes the opportunity of your open mouth to sneak his tongue in. He massages his tongue against yours, feeling you pushing against his.

Pulling away, he preppers kisses along your jaw and you angle your head for him to have better access to your neck. He takes the invitation and presses open-mouthed kisses along your throat, sucking and nibbling as he goes. You hope he leaves marks so you have evidence of this tomorrow.

You grind down against his lap and he lets out a moan. You take that as your go-ahead to rock back and forth against him, feeling the hard lie of his cock through both your jeans.

“Fucking Christ, gonna make me come in my pants if you keep doing that.” Eddie says, mouth now tracing the shell of your ear.

The hard seam of your jeans and the feel of his cock pushes perfectly against your clit, creating a pressure so delicious you can feel yourself creating a wet patch in your panties.

You feel the hand on your ass slide up under your top, his calloused hand dancing along the soft skin of your back.

He kisses along your jaw and then just left of your mouth as he brings the hand on your back around to cup your breast over your bra, he squeezes them and your nipples pebble up at the contact. You moan out as you keep rocking in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands are on your ass and breast, mouth now back on yours and you can barely contain another moan.

You start bouncing in his lap a little, realising that as much as you want his dick in your mouth, you think you want it in your pussy just that little bit more.

You pull back from him a bit to make eye contact, “Change of plans.”

He freezes, hands going stiff against your body.

“Wait, not in a bad way!” you reassure him, “Instead of me blowing you, I kinda want to, fuck you?”

He stares at you, his pupils blowing out, making his dark eyes even darker. His lips are red and glossy and his cheeks are bright pink. You relish in the fact you made him look like that.

“Are you asking me if it's okay to fuck me instead of blow me?” He says, astonished.

You nod slowly.

“That doesn’t even need to be a question, yes, oh my god, are you serious? Yes.”

Before you can even respond he’s standing up, lifting you with him and you squeal and wrap your legs around his waist. He walks to the edge of the picnic table, setting you down carefully.

You look up at him and slowly pull your arms away from around his neck and reach down to the hem of your top and swiftly pull it over your head. You sit there with your legs still around his waist, topless, with just a sheer black bra covering your breasts.

He visibly swallows when he looks over you. One of his hands comes up from your waist and his finger traces along the strap of your bra.

“Fuck, princess, look at you.” He says.

His finger hooks over the strap and slowly pulls it down your arm, and he watches as the cup falls to expose your nipple. His fingers trace over your skin, down your chest till his worn fingers slide over the little nub.

You let out a gasp as he moves over it, he watches closely as it puckers out even more, blood rising closer to the surface brightening it.

He wastes no time pulling your other cup down and doing the same to your other nipple. You whimper out soft curses and he tweaks one nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

He chuckles lowly, “You like that huh?”

You nod, your chest rising and falling faster than his, your eyes heavy-lidded.

“Lay back, baby.” He says.

You do as he says and lay back on the table just for him to hover over you, pressing kisses to your jaw. You grasp at his hair as he kisses down your throat and across your chest, before peppering kisses over the swell of your breasts and then taking your nipple into his mouth.

“Oh fuck!” You groan as he sucks and nibbles lightly, hands holding your waist down as you buck up into him.

He moves onto your other breast, giving it soft kisses just as he did the other and then licking at your pebbled nub.

“Eddie,” you paw at his head, “I’m suppos-I’m,” he keeps licking at you and you can’t think straight, “it’s supposed to be me making you feel good.”

Eddie’s head pops up from your chest, a thin line of saliva sticking from your breast to his lip pulls and breaks off onto his chin.

“Oh baby, this is making me feel good. So fucking good, you have no idea.” He reassures you.

You smile at him and lean up on your elbow, “Come here.” You say, using one arm to pull him to you by his neck.

He smiles into the kiss, licking into your mouth. His hands find their way to the button on your jeans and slowly but surely unbuttons and unzips them all the way down.

Fingers coast along your stomach, pressing into the pudge just above your crotch before they sink beneath your underwear.

Eddie’s lips pull away from you the second his fingers slide through your folds. “Goddamn, you’re fucking soaked, sweetheart.”

You moan as he laps up your juices and spreads it around your entrance, before lathering it over your clit in soft slow circles. Your body ignites with electricity, you feel that warmth growing in the depths of your core.

He keeps rubbing at your clit, watching as you wither and moan beneath him.

“Look at me, sweet girl, wanna see those pretty eyes.”

You don’t even realise your eyes have been closed, so caught up in the feel of his fingers. Just as you open your eyes and he works one finger into you and you yell out in shock, eyes wide as you stare up at him.

He laughs at your surprise, face bright and eyes dark. He adds a second finger and keeps fucking you slow and deep, pressing into your walls so perfectly you’re almost afraid of what his cock will feel like inside you if this is what his fingers feel like.

You decide you want to find out.

With your mouth agape, breathing heavily and staring into Eddie’s eyes, you grab at his arm stopping his movements. He watches you carefully as you slowly sit up, never breaking eye contact with him. You reach for his belt, undoing it and unzipping his pants as well, reaching a hand inside his boxers, you scratch through his pubic hair and see him visibly hold back a shiver.

You smile soft and sweet up at him as you take him into your hand and it’s him who breaks eye contact first, letting his eyelids shut as you squeeze at his base and slide a dry hand up his length.

You do a few more strokes before you take your hand out and hold it in front of him, palm up. He opens his eyes to look back at why you’ve stopped and looks down at your hand questioningly.

“Spit.” You say simply.

He huffs out a laugh in slight disbelief at your demand but drops his head down a little to your hand. He looks back up at you quickly before looking back down at your hand and spitting directly on it.

“Good boy.” You mock but see his eyes flash a little. You keep a mental note of that for later.

You reach your hand back into his pants and take him in a strong grip, easily gliding along his velvety shaft.

“Oh god.” He groans, dropping his head forward against your shoulder. He turns his head till he’s breathing into your neck.

You stroke over his cock head, your hand spreading his precum and mixing it with his spit. Your thumb presses on the vein on the underhead, massaging along and he lets out a hot breath against your neck before biting down on your shoulder.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he chants as you continue your torment. “Baby, baby,” he babbles into your skin, “you gotta stop or I’m gonna come before I even get inside you.”

You chuckle and slow your strokes before letting go of him and rubbing your hand up his abdomen under his shirt.

He breathes heavily for a few seconds against you before standing upright and smiling widely.

“Let’s get these off, hmm?” He says.

Reaching for your waist, he pulls at the top of your jeans and begins to pull them down your body, you shuffle up so he can get them over your ass and shimmy them down your legs. Your shoes prove to be an issue so he very ungracefully tries to yank them off your feet, it takes a couple of times and has you holding onto the table to not be dragged off, in a fit of giggles.

He’s smiling too when he gets one jeans leg off and is too preoccupied leaning in to kiss you to pull off the other one, leaving you with your jeans hanging off one ankle.

He’s still fully dressed, besides the unzipped pants. You however are almost completely naked, save for your bra that is flipped over still sitting under your breasts and one pant leg on your ankle. If anyone saw you right now there’s no way to explain yourself out of the situation, you look well and truly fucked.

You keep kissing and touching, slowly making your way down to push his jeans as far as you can get them, just under his asscheeks, and pull out his cock.

Pulling him forward with one hand on his hip, you use your other hand to trace the tip of his dick between your folds, covering him in your slick.

“Jesus,” he sighs out, watching it intently, “Fuck, we need a condom, I don’t-fuck I don’t have one.”

You let go of him and stretch back, reaching for your bag on the other end of the table.

“I got one.” You say.

“You’ve got a condom in your backpack but not your purse?” He laughs.

You fish the condom out of the front pocket and turn back to him. “Sex Ed gives them out for free!” You defend.

“Suuuuure they do, you planned this didn’t you?” He teases, grabbing at the packet.

“Eddie!”

He rips the foil with his teeth and pulls out the condom. “M’kidding.” He chuckles.

With steady hands, he rolls the rubber over his cock and lines up at your entrance. You lay on your back and keep your legs wide, ass just hanging off the edge of the table.

The hand not holding his dick grabs at your hip, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your plump skin.

“You’re sure?” He asks, looking into your eyes.

You nod and he slaps his dick against your folds.

“Use your words, honey.” He says.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Good girl.”

His eyes never leave yours as you feel the thick head of his cock stretching you open. He pushes in inch by inch, watching your reaction with every movement. He’s tense like he’s trying with everything in him not to slam straight into your warmth.

As he bottoms out, you feel the weight of his balls press against your ass.

“Eddie, move, please.” You beg. Feeling him so deep inside you has your walls clenching around him begging for more.

He grabs onto your hips and pulls out slowly before diving in hard, you let out a guttural moan and watch as his smile grows.

“Yeah?” He eggs on another moan.

You nod as he keeps pounding into you, holding tight to your hips, using your love handles as leverage to pull you harder against him.

You feel the white warmth growing in your core, your pussy grips him tight and you feel the remnants of your sex sliding down into your ass crack.

Eddie’s eyes drop to your breasts as they bounce back and forth with each of his thrusts, you watch him and bring up your hands to play with your nipples.

“God that’s so fucking sexy.” Eddie says. His fringe is beginning to stick to his forehead and his hair is swaying with his movements.

You bite your lip to hold in a moan as you tweak your nipple extra hard.

“No, no baby, I wanna hear you, yeah? Wanna hear all those beautiful noises you make for me.”

As he says that he leans forward over you a little, the change in angle creates some friction against your clit. You drop your head back and arch your back to get more contact against it, letting out a long moan.

“There she is!” He laughs.

His thrusts turn faster and the friction intensifies against your clit, that electricity inside you building higher and higher, pushing its way down your core.

You feel so close you can’t help the little yelps you let out each time he drives into you.

“M’so close, Eddie.” You whimper.

“Yeah? You can come, baby, come on my cock, I wanna feel it.”

His chest is heaving and you can tell he’s close too with how erratic his movements are starting to get. It just takes a few seconds of consistent bucking of his hips, pushing against your spongy insides and pelvis rubbing along your clit for you to come hard.

You grip one of his arms tight, the other still holding one of your breasts and let out a loud sob. White heat consumes you, your whole body tensing before it relaxes down into a calm buzz.

Your pussy pulses around his cock, milking any will he had to not come yet.

“God you feel so fucking good,” he keeps babbling down at you, pussy drunk. “I’m gonna come.”

He jackhammers hard and fast into you before collapsing with a few slow thrusts and a deep moan into the valley between your breasts. Your hand comes up and lands on his head, patting over his hair soothingly as he comes down from his high.

You stay like that for a few minutes, him still inside you as you both catch your breath. You begin to swirl his hair around your fingers and breathe in the smell of his shampoo and cologne.

He kisses your chest a few times before he lifts his head slightly, resting his chin against you.

He smiles up at you as you stare down at him with a small smirk. He quickly leans up, pressing his softening cock further into you and kisses your lips gently. You both moan against each other’s lips at his movements.

He smiles down at you and then stands back up before slowly pulling out of you. Your pussy flutters from the loss.

He takes the condom off and ties off the end before sticking it in his jeans pocket and doing up his pants. You go to sit up and pull your bra up over your breasts to cover yourself.

Eddie walks over to grab your shirt and you awkwardly try to get your underwear and pants back on before grabbing your socks and shoes that he threw away.

As you sit down on the wooden seat, ready to put your shoes on, Eddie hands you back your shirt that he’s turned the right way in and smiles a little sheepishly. You smile back up at him and there’s an almost awkward but cute silence as you put your shirt and shoes back on.

You clear your throat when you’re done and stand up, standing directly in front of him.

He looks down at you with his big brown eyes and then raises a hand for a high five. That makes you giggle with uncontrollable laughter and you give him a high five. He grabs at your hand as you do and pulls you against him, his other hand going to hold your face.

“What?” He laughs with you, “That was good sex, it deserved a high five!”

You keep snickering and he smiles down at you while he leans in for a kiss. You laugh against his lips.

After a few more kisses he pulls away and walks over to his lunchbox, grabbing out a bag of weed and throwing it at you. You catch it and look at it for a second before looking back at him.

“Maybe you could help me smoke this, this weekend or something?” You ask.

He smiles brightly at you and it makes his eyes crease.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He replies.

You can’t help mirroring his smile.

“Okay.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #oz writes #oz writes eddie munson #nxyoz

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prince-kallisto · 7 months

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Crowley deserved to be in the Glorious Masquerade event 🤧🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛ The outfit was inspired by a lot of different things: Malleus’s costume, plague doctors, nuns (lmao), forget-me-not flowers, and the ceremonial robes. He already has a mask…but I think it would be funny if he wore a second mask on top that looked like a plague doctors 😭 I plan to design more event costumes for him in the future!

I’d like to make a nice painting of the second image too, but I’m not feeling very well today -v- I must have caught something…how ironic that I get sick when designing a plague doctor inspired outfit 😷

I talk more about the concept designs under the cut \(//∇//)\

Crowley’s design was initially like, a copy paste of Malleus’s outfit. I’m actually working on a fic where Crowley went to Noble Bell College instead of Malleus, which is why I started with this idea! But it didn’t feel right, because I wanted Crowley’s design to be unique. I picked out the design elements I liked the most, like the dark colors, feathers, and a draping cape. Although somehow I feel like Crowley’s costume turned out more like a mash up of TWST’s Halloween/New Year outfits…but oh well (´∀｀*) The ideas I have for those events costumes will look very different to make up for it haha

With this and Crowley’s bird mask, I immediately thought of basing his look off a plague doctors, thus the long skirt, buttons, and hat. But I REALLY REALLY love puffy sleeves, especially ones with sheer fabric -v-

Shout out to Japhers (whose both on Twitter and tumblr), because their incredible costume designs helped me out a lot with Crowley’s design 👉👈 I feel like any time I was trouble with an outfit design, I just have to examine their costume design haha for inspiration haha, it’s so amazing! please check them out, their character designs are the most gorgeous things I’ve ever seen

Anyway, I got really torn from here. As you can probably see from the sketches, I had all the elements of his costume, but it was how they would fit together is what gave me some problems. The plague doctor cape covering his arms suited him, but I wanted the puffy sleeves ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ As a compromise, he has puffy sleeves and sheer fabric on his chest underneath the coat because I’m a down-bad simp for Crowley 🧎 He’s also wearing thigh high boots under there because I say so

I wasn’t able to paint it well (I’m not experienced with painting), but he has these…swords on his heels? Yes, they’re a real thing. It’s incredibly gaudy and I love it, Crowley would absolutely wear little golden swords on his heels. The corset is very, VERY loosely rib cage inspired but since the corset is at his waist, it doesn’t really work -v- oh well, I just wanted some pretty chains. His costume comes with a lot of forget-me-not motifs because symbolism lmao (Levan haunts me 24/7) and because of their pretty blue color (*^o^*)

If you read this far, thank you for listening to my rambles 🧎 I’m so excited to work on more event designs for Crowley because I’m really sad the staff members don’t get designs like these! I also want to make card illustrations with these costumes, but I need to take a little break 😷 a break from art, that is lmao. As long as I’m still kicking I shall be on the Crowley posting grind 💪

#twst #twst fanart #twst glorious masquerade #twisted wonderland #twst dire Crowley #twst Crowley #dire Crowley #twst headmage #my art #traditional art #KallistoPost #outfit concept

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daughterofcain-67 · 1 month

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𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 : 𝓅𝓉 2

(Dean Winchester x Artist/Bartender! Female Reader)

(𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 1) (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 3)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: While looking for more information regarding the mysterious deaths somehow linked to Mr. Nelson and his bar, Sam and Dean find out you could be next.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none that I can think of? Mentions of killings, canon level case discussions.

The evening came around and your shift at the bar was finally over. You quickly clocked out, grabbed your bag and just started to walk out of the door. Your mood was pretty much ruined as far as going out with Callie and Danielle tonight. It was ruined ever since Dean practically told you he couldn’t give you the time of day.

But what else could you expect from a man that ghosted you and never contacted you again. Was the summer you spent with him really that terrible? You didn’t want to bother him by asking, so you thought it would be better to just let him do his job and stay out of his hair as much as possible.

But why? Why did there have to be a case that brought him here of all places if he was destined to be so cruel?

“Y/N! Wait up!”

You sighed, knowing Danielle had caught you after all. Nonetheless, you stopped and plastered a cheerful smile on your face as you turned around, “What’s up?”

“Oh don’t tell me you forgot about our plans tonight already! We’re supposed to go out and find you a guy! Come on, we need to get over to Callie’s. We still need to check on her, and maybe she can let you borrow some of her clubbing clothes. I think she’s gonna need a distraction tonight too if she knows her boyfriend was out with someone else.” Danielle rambled.

That’s right, you had forgotten about Callie and her boyfriend, Dylan. You still hadn’t heard from her throughout the day to figure out if she was still up for going out tonight. Honestly you could understand why Danielle was concerned about your friend, you were starting to grow worried too even if you didn’t want to admit it.

As far as you knew, Callie definitely would need this night more than you did if she knew about her boyfriend. Maybe you should go at least for her sake, and it would make you forget about Dean even if it was for a moment. A brief moment but it was a diversion nonetheless.

“Yeah… why don’t we go ahead and take my car? No sense in having you waste your gas after all.” You insisted and Danielle thanked you. Then the two of you hopped into your vehicle and you drove off to Callie’s house.

“So how did it go with that FBI guy?” Danielle asked. You had forgotten she sent Dean your way that afternoon in the first place.

“Did he ask really intimidating questions? Both those guys looked like they had seen a lot. They were both kind of cute. Especially the taller one with the hair. Did he ask a lot of questions about Nelson’s wife? Do you think someone here at the bar did it? Oh what if-“

“Danielle? I need you to stop talking and breathe, please.” You said as you focused on the road.

“Honestly I don’t really feel like talking about that guy anyway.” You admitted, but then Danielle looked over at you.

“What happened? Was it that bad of an interaction?” You sighed when you realized she probably wouldn’t let it go until she had the answer she was looking for.

“You remember the guy in that sketch book I was drawing? That was him.” Danielle gasped and you swore by how loud it was, it was like she inhaled half the oxygen in the car.

“No…. that was you mystery man? How could you not want to talk about him? Seeing him after all these years? That must’ve been so good to see him again! Did he remember you? Did you two get to talk?” She bombarded you with so many questions and you wondered if you should have even opened your mouth to tell her about Dean.

“It was great at first. Yes he recognized me. No it didn’t go well. He’s focused on the case and didn’t have time to chat. I told him what I knew before I left to do my job and he can do his without my help.” You said, letting the bitterness in your voice linger in the air.

Danielle finally went quiet for a moment as she let the words sink in. Just when you started to get the idea that you weren’t interested in talking about Dean anymore, she spoke again.

“I’m sure he has some kind of reason. Agents must get really busy so you can’t exactly blame him completely. Maybe he’ll stop by the bar again when the case is over and you two can finally talk about everything.”

“I doubt it.” You scoffed, Danielle frowned before she gazed through the windshield.

“What do you think Callie will do whenever we go out tonight?” Danielle changed the subject, which you were thankful for.

“Well, I think she’d go to a bar whether she and Dylan really broke up or not. If she and Dylan actually broke up, then I think she’d be apt to flirt with more guys and have some kind of one night stand. Dylan had those trust issues, so why not spite him, right?” You hypothesized and Danielle chuckled slightly and nodded.

“Yeah that sounds like her.” She replied.

Just as the two of you made it to Callie’s apartment building, you saw that there were several cop cars with their lights shining brightly, blinking enough to give an epileptic person a seizure.

A sickening feeling swirled in your stomach, unsettling and nauseating.

“It’s not going to be Callie. I’m sure she’s fine. It’s bound to be one of her neighbors.” You said, Danielle looked stunned but she gave a hesitant nod.

When you parked the car, you and Danielle both got out and just as you started walking towards the building, one of the cops stopped you.

“I’m sorry, ladies. We’re not allowing anyone in or out at this time. This is a crime scene.” The officer told you while holding his hand up to prevent you from passing.

“Our friend lives here. We’re supposed to be heading somewhere tonight and we’re supposed to meet her in a couple of minutes.” You tried to explain.

“I’m sorry, Miss, but I can’t let you-“

“Y/N, look!” Danielle said and grabbed your arm.

You looked over at your friend and realized she was pointing somewhere. When you followed the direction, your eyes widened when your gaze landed on an all too familiar figure being put into a body bag.

“No…” You muttered.

It was Callie inside the bag and she was being zipped up and placed into the Medical Examiner’s vehicle.

This couldn’t be happening. Callie was just alive two days ago! It couldn’t be true, Callie couldn’t be gone. How did this happen? When did it happen? Why didn’t anyone find Callie sooner?!

So many questions were swirling through your mind but the sound of Danielle’s sobs brought you back to reality.

“I’m sorry, ladies, but the two of you really shouldn’t be here.” The officer said and you let out a shakey breath.

“Have you ID’d her yet?” You asked.

“No. Was this your friend?” He asked.

“Yes… her name was Callie Jordan. We worked together.” You informed, trying to be calm about it and you looked over at Danielle who’s eyes were already reddening with the tears streaming down her face.

“Come on, Danielle. Let’s get out of here.” You said and you put your hands on her arms to guide her away from the area.

As the two of you were walking, you saw a familiar black car park. The doors swung open and you locked eyes with the familiar FBI Agent that had his hands tied too much to even speak with you more than five minutes.

Dean and his partner started talking to one another and the taller one nodded before he walked off to the scene. Dean began strolling toward your direction and your insides churned even more, not exactly wanting the interaction right now.

“Agent.” You said shortly.

“Are you two alright? What happened out there?” Dean asked you, and you could tell there was sincere concern. You couldn’t imagine why it was there, even if you could you were too bitter from earlier that day to care.

“No, we aren’t alright. Our friend is dead and we don’t have any answers because the cop wouldn’t even let us in.” You said.

“When was the last time you talked to your friend?” Dean asked and you scoffed.

“Really? You’re gonna question the two of us now?” You asked coldly.

“Why don’t you and your little partner investigate Callie’s body first and find out what the hell happened to her before you start bombarding us with questions, huh? Focus on your damned job since that’s the focus.” You seethed and you saw Dean’s jaw tighten, nearly at a loss for words.

“Two days ago… But Dylan… h-her boyfriend may have talked to her sooner than that.” Danielle interrupted, gently squeezing your arm to try and get you to calm down. Asking questions were a part of the job and he needed cooperation.

“Thank you, Ma’am… my partner and I will try and get answers for the both of you as soon as possible.” Dean said, clearing his throat before he walked off to the crime scene.

You watched him walk away and he didn’t even look back at you. Maybe going to the bar was a better idea than you thought.

“Do you want to stay with Chris tonight? I can drop you off at his house.” You said and Danielle shook her head.

“Could I stay with you tonight instead? That way I know you’ll at least make it to your next shift at work and all?” Danielle said and tried her best to laugh but it came out as yet another sob.

You sighed softly, not sure how staying with you would help her cope. You hoped her boyfriend would help her more with that. But you didn’t exactly want to say no when she was this vulnerable.

“At least let the guy know where you’ll be. Yeah you can crash at my place tonight.” You insisted as the two of you got back to the car and you two started the ride back to your house, deciding to leave Danielle’s car at work. You could always just pick it up tomorrow.

Dean knew he deserved that kind of reaction from you. After all, the afternoon wasn’t exactly the greatest reunion he could have thought of. But he had to be realistic about this case, as well as his life as a hunter. He wouldn’t get attached to you, because he couldn’t handle the guilt of letting something happen to you. Not like Lisa or Jo.

It was out of the cards and he just hoped one day you’d understand.

“What did you find out?” Dean asked as he looked at the paramedics taking the body in the M.E vehicle.

“Same as Mr. Nelson’s wife. Some sort of horrific animal attack. But there was no evidence of an animal in the house, none of the victim’s neighbors saw or heard an animal in the building. No one even heard the victim scream.” Sam explained with a frown.

“What about you?” He asked Dean, just for the older brother to let out a sigh.

“Well, Y/N’s friend was more cooperative. Apparently the victim’s name was Callie. The last they heard from her was two days ago. But apparently she had a boyfriend. Y/N’s friend implied he may have had a conversation sooner than that.” Dean spoke.

“The friend said?” Sam arched a brow, “You must’ve royally messed up at the bar.”

“We’re here on a job, alright? Not to reconnect and get Y/N killed. And I think she got the picture.” Dean said, although he grew quieter at the last sentence.

Sam picked up on the shift in his brother’s tone as they walked back into the Impala. He knew how stubborn Dean was, but he wished he knew why Dean seemed to refuse to allow himself the chance to be happy. It was almost like Dean thought his own happiness was a form of blasphemy, and Sam wished he knew how to change that sort of mindset.

“You don’t know if she’ll get herself killed. Lisa’s not dead.” Sam reminded his brother and Dean shot him a glare.

“No but she could have been and it would have been my faul- why are we even talking about this? Can we just focus on the case? We need to find out where Callie’s boyfriend is and talk to him.” Dean said and opened up the car door.

Sam let out an irritated grunt at his brother’s difficult behavior, but he got into the car just for the radio to start playing the same several songs on the cassette that got old after a while. He still didn’t get how Dean could listen to the same thing over and over, and he probably wouldn’t ever get it.

“Do you happen to know anything else about Dylan? Where we can find him?” Sam questioned.

“No. I kind of had the feeling I should get out of there before things got out of hand. Y/N wasn’t exactly thrilled of my presence and their friend was just murdered. I was hoping you had some kind of info so we could kind of work around them.” Dean sighed.

Sam sighed a little, hoping that Dean knew that if this case got any worse, he would have to face you eventually. After all, he couldn't avoid you forever now that he was in the same town as you were.

"We're gonna have to do some digging. Maybe we can go to the station after we go to the M.E's office. Or maybe we can split again and see what we can find on Callie's phone. Maybe she still had his social media on her phone." Sam suggested.

"Great. You take the Doc, I'll take a look at her belongings." Dean volunteered, pawning the disgusting stuff onto his younger brother, which only made Sam roll his eyes. He shouldn't have expected a different response.

After the brothers went their separate ways, Dean found himself at the Sheriff's office and he was able to take a look at the deceased's belongings. He had Callie's phone and he was looking for any insight of her boyfriend through the phone.

"Too many of these damned apps..." Dean mumbled as he looked at Snapchat where he managed to get a last name for this Dylan guy. Apparently his name was Dylan Bentley, and from what Dean could see, he was clearly not that committed to Callie.

Apparently Dylan had several different girls that he was following on Instagram, and who knew if he was messaging them or not. So, Dean went to Callie's messages and he found that there was an argument that didn't end very well. Dylan evidently didn't trust that Callie was staying loyal and he seemed to think you and Danielle were bad influences, and Callie would call him out on all of the girls he was following. Seemed like Callie wasn't the girl to take bullshit, but because the conversation on the phone stopped, Dean wondered if they had an in-person confrontation before Callie's death.

Either way, it was ridiculous relationship drama that Dean figured was enough to know that he and Sam needed to talk to Dylan and see if he was in any way involved with his girlfriend, or former girlfriend's, murder. Preferably as soon as possible. But judging by how late it was, he doubted that Dylan would be cooperative.

"Have you found anything interesting, Agent?" Dean heard the Sheriff ask and he glanced over.

"I believe I have. Do you know where I could find a Dylan Bentley?" Dean asked as he set the phone back down in the evidence pile.

"Oh, Dylan? Well if he's working tonight, you may be able to find him at 7-Eleven. I'm not sure when his shift ends though." He informed.

"7-Eleven. Got it. Thanks, Sheriff." Dean nodded and started walking out of the door. Then he pulled out his phone and started to call Sam.

"Dean? What did you find?" Sam asked on the other line while Dean was walking to the car again.

"Well, found out that Y/N's little friend was right. Dylan is someone we need to talk to like ASAP. Found out that he had some trust issues with Callie, but he wasn't exactly the most loyal of boyfriend's either. Must've been pretty toxic." Dean said.

"You think toxicity could lead to murder?" Sam asked and Dean shrugged to himself.

"In this day in age, who knows. But I think it's worth looking into. I'm heading to 7-Eleven now to see if Dylan's working tonight. What about you? Did you find anything useful?"

"Well, from what I can tell it's definitely a werewolf. Heart's gone and everything just like Mrs. Nelson." Sam said and Dean let out a hum.

"Do you think there could be some kind of connection?" Dean questioned.

"I dunno, Dean. I mean the only think connecting them is Nelson but I doubt Nelson had anything to do with their deaths. We even did the tests when we talked to him when we interviewed him about his wife, remember? He's not the werewolf."

"Still, you had Nelson's wife and someone that worked for him and now both of them are dead. That seems really weird to me."

"As weird as it is, Dylan may be the only lead we have if he's working tonight. Otherwise we may have to see if Nelson had connections with anybody or if there's been any other suspicious activity at the bar up until this point." Sam urged, and Dean knew that would mean he may have to talk to you again if you'd be willing to even be in the same room with him.

"Let me go hit the gas station first and see where that can get us first before we talk to Danielle and Y/N."

"Hey, why don't you come and pick me up and we can talk to Dylan? I'm done here anyway and I think I've got all I need from here." Sam spoke.

"Sure thing. See you in ten."

Sure enough, ten to fifteen minutes later both of the brothers were back in the car once more and they were on the road to the gas station to have a little chat with Callie's ex boyfriend. The two of them hopped out of the car and made their way inside.

Behind the counter, Dean saw a guy that was just barely in his thirties sitting on a stool on his phone. He scoffed to himself. Your friend dated a guy like this? He hoped that a guy like this wouldn’t end up being your type one day.

“Excuse me. Do you know where we could find Dylan Bentley?” Dean asked.

The man looked up and when he did, Dean got a better view of the nametag just as the man spoke up.

“That’s me. Is there something I can help you with?”

As if on cue, both Sam and Dean pulled out their FBI badges, “We need to talk to you about your girlfriend, Callie.”

“Callie? Uh… alright? Is everything okay?” Dylan asked as he put his phone in his pocket.

Dean wondered if the guy was feigning some sort of ignorance. Surely he had to know something was up with his girlfriend, right? Or ex-girlfriend he supposed he should say.

“Actually, sir, your girlfriend is dead. She was found this evening.” Dean said.

Dylan went wide-eyed with shock.

“What do you mean dead? I just talked to her a couple days ago.” Dylan said.

Sam and Dean both looked at each other, each of them wondering if Dylan would be a useful witness or not. But either way, both of them began their routine questioning. Although in the middle of questioning, Sam got a call.

When Sam walked away, Dean continued to talk to Dylan.

“So, Dylan… do you know of any enemies Callie could have had? Anyone that wanted to harm her in any way?” He asked and Dylan shook his head.

“You don’t exactly seem to broken up about her death. What happened between you two?” Dean continued, pretending like he didn’t know about the argument. Dylan sighed a little.

“Callie and I were rocky. Both of us had trust issues with each other and I knew it was only a matter of time before she and I would come to an end. I don’t think she really had any enemies, but I know she was outspoken. Maybe she offended some kind of customer and didn’t realize it.” Dylan said.

“Has she ever talked about troublesome customers before?” Dean continued.

“Well… there was this one night about a week and a half ago or so. Maybe two weeks ago. She and I wear catching up and ranting about our weeks and how shitty they were. The normal stuff. Then she started talking about these guys that came in. They wanted to talk to Nelson, the owner, but he wasn’t in the bar that day. They sat at the bar table and waited and waited, made Callie pretty uncomfortable.” Dylan began.

“And? What happened?”

“Well, Nelson finally showed up and they went to the back office to talk. Callie said the next thing they knew, there was some kind of fight and security had to break it up. The last thing she remembered them saying was that they’d destroyed everything he worked for, starting from the bottom up. From what Callie described, they seemed gruff looking, like they weren’t afraid to tear someone limb from limb if they had to. Maybe killing off the staff members first is what one of the guys meant by going from the bottom up.” Dylan spoke.

An uneasy feeling washed over Dean, but he by the time he started to think, Sam came back from the phone call.

“That was the Sheriff. One of the hostesses at the bar was found dead. Another connection to Nelson.” Sam said and that made the feeling in Dean’s stomach worsen.

“Thanks for your help, Dylan. Make sure to get home safe and lock your doors.” Dean spoke and both of the brothers walked out of the gas station.

“We need to get to Y/N and her friend and fast.” Sam said the words Dean was already thinking.

“A pack of werewolves are after Nelson’s business. We may need to ask around and see if Nelson had any enemies. Maybe he was a hunter and this was how he thought he was going to retire.” Dean hypothesized while his brother nodded.

“Maybe he ticked off a pack some years ago and now they’re finally getting their revenge when Nelson least expects it. Either way, they’re going after the hosts and bartenders first before they go for kitchen staff judging from their pattern. We need to get to them now.”

With that, Dean pressed harder on the gas and just hoped that he wouldn’t be too late.

Danielle finally went to sleep in your guest bedroom, but you decided to stay up. It’s not like you’d be able to sleep that night anyway even if you tried. Not with everything that’s happened that day. A part of you felt like this was some really messed up nightmare and you just wanted to wake up from it.

Unfortunately, though, this was your reality. The guy that still had a small piece of your heart stomped on it, and one of your coworkers- your friend- was horrifically killed.

So no… a decent night’s sleep was out of the cards.

You still wanted to know what could have done something like this? What if the police would end up being wrong? Maybe it was some kind of serial killer that was making it look like some kind of animal attack. Although, you couldn’t understand why a serial killer would need to take the hearts from their victims. Maybe it would be some sort of sick trophy?

Morbid…

You shook your head as you tried not to think about it too much. It was too brutal and gruesome for your liking so you were truly trying your best not to linger on it so much.

Instead, you broke put your sketchbook and decided to work on some drafts for a cover of a book you were commissioned to draw. She hadn’t given you a due date yet but you still liked working on the concept art early to see what the author wanted. After all, it was your job to bring their imagination to life in the most desirable way possible.

You were sitting down on the windowsill with sketchbook in hand, beside you there was a nightstand with a mug of tea. You had a DVD player across from you playing Save Me by Remy Zero, remembering the phase you had watching a show called Smallville. Tom Welling’s Clark Kent was a cutie. Why couldn’t you find a Clark?

Oh well.

As you listened to the song, you continued to draw different ideas. Then you began to outline your work when you started to hear a knock on the door.

You shrugged it off at first, thinking it was a neighbor’s door or maybe you were hearing something. But then the knock occurred again, causing you to let out a soft groan of annoyance and you set your sketchbook to the side. Then you got up and started walking to the door. You made sure to look through the peephole, being cautious since there were two people dead. After all, you didn’t exactly want to be next.

The moment you looked through the window you saw a familiar face, though it wasn’t exactly the best feeling you got when you saw this person again. A familiar guy in a cheap suit with green eyes and the short hair that sort of reminds you of some sort of hedgehog or something. Beside him there was that taller agent that must’ve been his partner. How wonderful…

Slowly, you opened the door and you saw them there.

“Agents. Don’t you know how late it is?” You asked and kept the door partially shut.

“Y/N, please? We need to talk to you. And Danielle. Do you know where she is?” Dean asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, she’s here asleep. Like any other normal person.” You retorted, trying to keep your voice down so you wouldn’t wake up your friend.

“Y/N, we need to get you out of here. Both you and Danielle and we need to get you both somewhere safe. Like now.” Dean insisted and you started getting confused.

“Uh, why? She and I are perfectly fine. It’s just a freak animal attack that’s happened twice, right?”

“Actually, we think something else might be going on.” The taller explained and you lifted a brow.

“Something else? What else could there be?”

“We uh.. we aren’t exactly at liberty to say but we have reason to believe you and your friend might be next.” Dean’t partner continued.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” You turned around when you heard Danielle’s voice form behind you so you had to think fast.

“Danielle, I think you need to go back to your boyfriend’s tonight. One of these agents will be there with you both. They think there’s something up.” You tried to explain as vaguely as possible.

“What? What do you both think is happening? Are we going to be okay?” Danielle began to ask.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to either of you. I promise. My name is Sam, I’ll take you back to your place house and watch over you. Consider it as witness protection. My partner will be watching over Y/N to make sure she’ll be alright too.” Sam continued.

Of course. Why did you have to be paired off with Dean? You didn’t need protecting. You knew how to keep your doors and windows locked, you knew not to allow anyone in the house. And you thought you could defend yourself at least enough to get away from someone or something. You definitely weren’t looking forward to the awkward silences, but who were you to argue with the FBI, right?

You watched at Dean handed his partner the keys to the car but you couldn’t help but to notice the reluctance in Dean’s face. You could tell he wasn’t looking forward to the tension either.

Danielle looked back at you with a worried expression on her features and you smiled slightly, “Don’t worry. They’re agents, I’m sure they’ve dealt with this kind of thing all the time. They know what they’re doing.”

You saw reluctance in her eyes but your friend nodded nonetheless before she walked out of the door with Sam, leaving you and Dean alone in the room. Just the two of you. By yourselves.

This was going to be a long night….

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @blackcherrywhiskey @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @leigh70 @nk1023

#dean winchester supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester mini series #jensen ackles #supernatural #spnfandom #supernatural imagine #dean imagine #supernatural x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction

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lolitakirstein · 2 months

Text

Hey Neighbor

Part one

Part two

Don't be a stranger

Those 4 words rattled in your brain as the days and weeks passed. You kept busy (and subtly avoided toji) by finishing up moving in and picking up a job at the local bookstore. The hours weren’t great but it kept you away from your house and your neighbor. Yes, you felt kinda shitty. He was only trying to be nice. But the look on his face as he purred, “Don’t be a stranger” with a smirk on his face made you ten times more intimidated by him. I can NOT get involved with him…wait he probably didn’t even mean it like that… I’m looking too much into it…still…no not I can’t do it. I don’t know him and he has a child I’m sure he’s not even interested. These thoughts consumed you.

As much as you tried to avoid confrontation with toji, it was practically impossible seeing as your houses were so near. Luckily, the interactions were in passing, a quick wave. A smile from you…a smug grin from toji. It seems Mewsy wasn’t one to avoid them, you would catch her strolling across the yard between your houses when Megumi and Toji would arrive home in the evenings. Megumi would light up and giggle as she'd once again perform her act of rolling around.

Although you avoid one one-on-one confrontation with Toji, you don't avoid…looking at him… especially when he is outside with the garage door open, music blaring as he does pull-ups in his make-shift gym. Sweat streams down his rippled abs that contract with each heavy breath. It makes your mouth go dry. God, what it would be like to lick up those chiseled muscles, to cling on to those broad shoulders as he'd thrust— stop no bad bad bad, you scold yourself every time you started fantasizing, shaking your head as if it was an etch-a-sketch and could erase the images.

You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, the time would come that you would have to speak to him…and this evening seemed to be just that day. As you sit on your porch reading your book, Mewsy on your lap, you hear that sensuous voice that makes your knees quake.

“Hey, neighbor.” toji stands at the bottom of your front porch steps. Megumi toddling up the stairs, excitedly, “Y/N!,” he climbs onto the wicker lover seat with you, Mewsy perking up and stretching.

“Megs,” toji sighs, shaking his head. “You have to wait to be invited onto a girl's porch, son.”

“It's fine,” you say, patting megumi's leg as he settles beside you like.

“How’ve you been,” toji asks, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Not seen ya much. You avoiding me?”

Shit! Was I that obvious?

“Oh…n–no just been trying to work as much as possible,” you stammer, wringing your hands in your lap.

“I see, “ toji responds.

“Yeah…” god, you wanted a hole to swallow you up, he clearly wasn’t convinced. “You can come sit if you want.” you try to change the subject.

“Nah, we gotta get going I'm about to drop him off at my boss’s house while I run some errands out of town .”

What kind of boss watched their employee’s kids? You didn’t know it you were relieved or bummed that he couldn’t stay.

“Ohh, dad let’s stay with y/n pleaseeee,” Megumi whined.

“No bud we gotta go,” Toji replied firmly.

“But Shiu’s house is so BORING, UGH” he groans.

“Ugh,” toji mocks. “You’re not even a teenager and already giving me such attitude.”

You can’t help but laugh at the back and forth, how similar the two were, how good of a father Toji seems to be….what a dilf.

“Blah blah blah,” Megumi teases, causing you to laugh harder.

“For real, Megs we gotta go. It won’t be for long. I promise.” Toji says.

Megumi starts groaning, “But I wanna stay with y/n.”

“Im sure y/n has things to do.”

Megumi curls his little arms around yours, clinging to you.

“I don’t mind,” you suggest. “He can stay.”

“YAY!” Megumi cheers.

“Y/N you don’t have to. I don’t want you to think I came over here just to drop him off on you,” toji stammers, clearly thrown off by your offer.

You shrug. “I don’t have anything else to do. I’ve babysat before. As long as you trust me with him.”

“Well,” toji sighs, running his hand through his messy hair. “AS long as you ok with it. I won’t be back til after dark.”

“Thats fine,” you assure.

Toji stalks up the porch steps, squatting in front of Megumi on the seat beside you. “Listen you, little man. Behave for y/n. I mean it. Do what she tells you to do.”

“Ugh ok dad,” megumi rolls his eyes.

“Again with the bratty attitude,” Toji sighs standing up before leaning forward, bracing one hand on the back of the seat by your face to kiss his son’s forehead. “Love you.”

You swallow at the closeness, his scent dancing around you. Pure male a hint of aftershave. He reaches into his pocket, handing you a set of keys.

“Here’s the house keys. It’ll be after his dinner before I get back and I doubt you have the right kinda dinosaur chicken nuggets for him to eat.” Toji laughs. “His bedtime is 9, but nothing strict.”

“OK,” you say. “Uhm what’s your number in case I need to contact you.”

“Ha, so this how I get your number, huh? My son. Jeez, he’s got more game than me.” he shakes his head, getting his phone out and swapping numbers with you.

“I’ll text when I’m on my way back. Thanks for this,” he says as he makes his way off the porch towards his car parked on the side of the street.

“Bye daddy!” megumi wave.

You both watch as he speeds away.

“So what do you wanna do megs,” you ask.

“Let's have fun!!!” he shouts.

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manticore-fangs · 3 months

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HEAR ME OUTTTTT Soap is back from deployment, and with Price's prodding (he's seen Johnny's campaign sketches and knows he's talented as fuck) finally decides to take a couple of art classes .... Ghosts is one of the models :0

okay, wait now! (i don’t do art classes, i’m going based off movies 🥲)

price stalks his artwork, looking at the paper with led scribbled all over it. just watching what he’s doing, and he speaks up - talking about how johnny should draw some models, as the man himself loves drawing people when they aren’t looking. he thinks about it and now here he is, standing with a stand and all with more then ten people in the room. all with fancy setups but he’s just stuck with a variety of pencils and a notebook.

johnny really didn’t wanna go but he kept thinking about it and decided why not, all he does is stay at home and watch the games. maybe hang out with the lads and takes care of himself, he may aswell do something more open to do.

he’s nervous. jittery even, his leg bounces up and down, he shakes his desk while he’s at it too. he awaits for the models too come in, knowing they most likely will be in robe, a towel on the men’s hips, covering their dicks while women will be having a robe aswell, but underneath the robe their tits and pussy’s will be covered, giving the models some decency while being exposed to a crowd.

the teacher explain certain pencils, charcoals and all types of artistic sorts. he draws sketches while he waits, or more like the teacher asked them to draw certain things. drawing fruits, hands, limbs. anything that the teacher wants. it was a long session, but worth it. then it was time for the models to come in.

first it was the women, all of them absolutely stunning. scars and all, he knew women were most likely gonna be a bit harder to draw for himself. he awaits for the male models to come through the door so he can eye one of them down and sketch them out. then, the men come in, walking next to the women who were already posed with a towel around their parts, keeping them secure.

he spotted someone though, a certain someone he recognized. black smudges across his nose bridge, that was fucking simon riley. his own bloody lt. and ohh, simon seen johnny too. didn’t expect him to be there, no wonder why price pushed him, simon, into doing modelling.

(i’ve been having such bad writers block so the most that will come out is blurbs and hc’s. my job has been kicking my ass, so sorry y’all! 😩)

#cod #cod mw2 #john price #call of duty #cod mwii #john soap mactavish #captain john price #soap x ghost #soap mw3 #ghost x soap #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #soapghost #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghostsoap #simon riley call of duty #simon riley

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alphacrone · 11 months

Text

Lucy’s skirts were a problem.

It wasn’t that they got in the way during jobs. On the contrary, Lucy seemed to have the best range of motion out of everyone at Lockwood & Co. George’s baggy jeans tended to catch on corners and trip up his steps, and Lockwood’s and Kipps’ tight trousers did, admittedly, restrict their flexibility. A short skirt with leggings underneath gave Lucy the freedom to duck and jump and spin without issue.

“Why are you telling me this?” Holly asked, stirring a dollop of honey into her tea. “Are you seeking my advice?”

“Yes,” Lockwood said. George was at the Archives, Kipps was out meeting Flo, and Lucy was picking up a Satchell’s order. It was the perfect time to consult his only rational, discrete friend. “The skirts are distracting. How do I ask her to wear trousers without coming off as-”

“-as a raging misogynist?” Holly sucked the remaining honey off her spoon. “Can I ask you something?”

Lockwood nodded. “Of course.”

Holly gave him a cruel smile. “Did you realize I also wear skirts on jobs?”

Obviously, Lockwood knew this. But Holly’s skirts were different! They were longer and, er…bright colors…and…and…

“You do,” he heard himself say. “Why aren’t your skirts distracting?”

“Hmm.” Holly hummed into her cup, looking far too smug. Lockwood had the childish urge to tug on her ponytail. “I don’t know, Lockwood. Why aren’t my skirts distracting?”

“Shit.” Lockwood ran a hand through his hair. It was bad enough he was probably being sexist; now he was treating his employees unequally? “I don’t- What is wrong with me, Hol?”

To his surprise, Holly laughed. It was a pretty sound, light and tinkling; it reminded him of Jessica’s. His sister had been just as sweet, and just as amused by his failures. “What about her skirts distract you?”

“They’re so- I don’t know.” Lockwood sighed. “Short? People are always staring.”

“Are they?” Holly sipped her tea. “I’ve never noticed.”

“Well you have manners,” Lockwood insisted. “You wouldn’t. But other agents do-”

“Other boys?” Holly asked innocently.

He paused. He opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. Holly did not break eye contact.

“Maybe,” he finally relented.

“Okay,” she said, setting her cup down. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“I feel awful about it,” Lockwood said. “It’s never caused a problem on the job. I just hate the way they look at her.” He traced his fingers over one of Lucy’s sketches on the Thinking Cloth, a rather rude caricature of George. (They were currently fighting over the brand of digestives Lucy had bought during her last grocery run, he believed.)

“Do you hate it because you’re afraid for Lucy’s safety?” Holly asked slowly. “Or because you’re jealous?”

The back of Lockwood’s neck burned. “Jealous?” He asked, clearing his throat. “Jealous of what?”

In a moment of surprisingly unladylike manners, Holly rolled her eyes and huffed. “You like her, Lockwood. You love her. When other boys look at her legs you get insanely jealous and it’s distracting you.”

“No!” He gaped at her. “I’m not- It’s not-”

“Boys look at my legs, too,” Holly said smugly. “They ask me out all the time when we’re on jobs. They do it in front of you and you don’t even notice. But if Kipps speaks to Lucy for too long…” She trailed off.

“Kipps is a prick,” Lockwood said crossly.

“Kipps isn’t the issue,” Holly countered.

“Fine!” Lockwood let out a sharp huff. “Fine! I’m jealous! But what can I do about it?”

Holly looked like he’d finally cracked. “You ask her out,” she said. “You talk to her.”

“Right.” He paused. “And I don’t ask her to wear trousers, right?”

“No!” Holly rubbed at her temple. “Just tell her how you feel. About her. Not her skirts.”

“Of course.” Lockwood gave Holly a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“Trust me,” she said. “I’m doing us all a favor.”

Lockwood didn’t want to think deeply on what she meant by this. He wanted to find Lucy as quickly as possible.

They both started as they heard the front door open. “I’m back!” Lucy called down the hall. “Come help me carry shit!”

Lockwood jumped to his feet, making Holly laugh again. He ignored her and the way she smirked at him as he left. Lucy was home, and he had some things to say.

#lockwood & co.#anna writes things #lockwood and co #locklyle #holly munro #ok to rb

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vxntagedior · 1 year

Note

what about something where xavier has one of his dreams that something bad will happen to you? so then he’s not letting you out of his sight and saves you from whatever it is, maybe like the gargoyle situation. and then he has to admit that he’s been following you to make sure you’re safe and he’s a little embarrassed but obviously reader thinks it’s sweet. i think non-established relationship, just classmates. if this is too vague or you’re not feeling it, please ignore, no worries!! 🫶🏻

knight in shining armor

summary | xavier comes clean on why he's been following you lately

pairing | xavier thorpe x fem!reader

warning | platonic relationship, angst, fluff ending

word count | 721

Xavier stood in watch in horror seeing the sword plunged through your stomach. Trying to make his way towards you, he felt like this an invisible barrier stopping him from getting to you.

Watching as you fell to the ground, holding onto your stomach tightly, he slowly watch as the life drained from your eyes.

“Y/n!” He heard someone scream through all the chaos.

Jumping from under his covers, Xavier let out a gasp, his hand over his heart. Sweat covered his body. Running his hand through his hair, he let out a shaky breath. Tears started to well in his eyes, the last time he saw someone die in his dream, it happened shortly after in the real world.

Xavier was slumped over his desk, his pencil sketching over his paper, staying up for the rest of the night knowing he wasn’t going back to sleep.

Staring at the picture in front of him, looking at the scenery, seeing how familiar it looked to him. Seeing the gargoyle was what made it like for him.

Xavier practically made his goal to make sure nothing would happen to you. That following up Monday, he sat next to you in every class the two of you had together, luckily which was more than half. Luckily the two of you ran with the same group of people so it wasn’t odd that he was constantly with you.

But as the school day came to an end, that was where he started running into problems. You had your own clubs to attend to while he had his, but having the same friends, he entrusted them to look out for you when he wasn’t there.

By the second week you knew something was up. You and Xavier were good friends but you could tell he was constantly lingering in the background. Keeping quiet about the situation, you let him continue whatever he was doing.

“How have you been Xavier?” You smirked, looking at him from across the table. Xavier froze slightly before looking at you. Since his dream, you noticed the shift in his behavior. He started to become more protective of you, and apparently you were the only one. Divina noticed it was, and started to tease about how he liked you and couldn’t stay away.

“I-I’m uh good.” He nodded his head, trying to look anywhere but you.

“Have you been dreaming okay?” Fuck, he cursed himself in his head, after all this time thinking he was being distrect, you probably caught on to what he was doing.

“Not really.” He said truthfully, shyly looking back up at you. You stayed quiet, just letting him continue to talk. “The other night, I uh, had this dream about you, I don’t I could even call it a dream, more of a nightmare.”

Sensing his distress, you placed your hand on top of his shaking ones. “It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me if it’s hurting you this bad, I understand.”

Even as he was trying to tell you that something was going to happen to you, you had his interests in heart.

Xavier closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, slowly letting it out before opening his eyes back up and continuing.

“You got hurt, like really bad.” He confessed, “And since I saw that I’ve been around you trying to make sure nothing bad would happen because I don’t want to lose you.”

Finally looking back up at you, he saw you getting out of your seat, making your way to his side of the table. He didn’t expect you to hug him, his eyes wide, before melting in your touch, reciprocating the hug.

“Thank you.” You whispered into his ear.

“You're not weirded out by this.” He said in shock.

“Xavier, you’re looking out for me, making sure I’m safe, it’s far from weird, it’s kind.” You smiled, “I’m thankful for someone like you in my life, you’re like my knight in shining armor.”

The joke seemed to make him smile, something you haven’t seen in a while.

“You know you’re my best friend right.” He said.

“And you're mine, we look out for each other.” You nudged his shoulder, “Next time I get a scary dream about you, I’ll protect you.”

“My hero.” He said dreamingly before laughing.

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x fem!reader #xavier thorpe #wednesday #wednesday addams

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suyacho · 2 years

Text

COMFORTING YOU AFTER BEING CATCALLED.

PT. 2 (other fandoms)

very much needed comfort for myself and anyone else who needs it <3 this is the first piece that’s shamelessly for myself fully so i hope you guys enjoy it either way :)

WARNINGS: obviously catcalling - cursing - comfort - violence - mentions of killing kinda? (very angry boyfriends) - reminder this is based on personal experience and how i react to these situations at times, everyone deals with this differently so don’t be rude :)

ORDER: mitsuya - chifuyu - nahoya (smiley) - rindou - ran

A/N: this is my first time writing the haitanis & nahoya :) a big thank you to @arozaur & @bxnten for reading through this :)

— takashi mitsuya.

it was quiet when you walked into the house, way too quiet yet you didn’t seem to care as you were still in the state of shock. the sound of the door closing took mitsuya’s attention, making him put down his pen from all the sketching.

“welcome home love.” mitsuya smiled at you when walking into the living room, frowning a bit when all you did was nod. you usually said something back to him yet your face was enough for him to understand that something was off and was bothering you.

miysuya didn’t say anything and just got off his chair, opening his arms as he walked over to you. “it’s okay, come here.” he told you in a sweet and comforting tone, wrapping his strong arms around you. instantly relaxing, you hugged him back and closed your eyes.

you felt safe in his arms, safer than you did seconds ago. mitsuya always made you feel safe, no matter the situation.

— chifuyu matsuno.

“what’s wrong?” chifuyu questioned, looking over at you after a deep sigh left your lips. “got catcalled, again.” you answered, your tone clearly sounding upset. he froze in his movements, his face clearly showing how angry was as he made his hands into fists, digging his nails into his skin.

“was i there? did i miss it— i swear to god im g-“ chifuyu started, being cut off by your words. “you weren’t, it was today.” you answered, looking at him with a fake smile, hoping he wouldn’t see through it and calm down.

chifuyu felt guilty, guilty for not being there and being able to protect you. especially knowing how uncomfortable catcalling made you. he was so angry, why would people do that? did they think it was a compliment? all he wanted to do was go out and kill that person but he knew he couldn’t. not when you were so upset and needed his support more than anything.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t be there.” he broke the silence, carefully wrapping his arms around you. “you’re safe now, i’m here for you always.” chifuyu mumbled quietly, holding you tightly, not wanting to let go.

— nahoya kawata.

“where.” nahoya asked right after you explained to him what happened. “on the street of the grocery store we always go to.” you answered, wondering if you did the right thing, knowing how nahoya gets when he’s mad.

“mhm thank you.” he mumbled, nodding at souya who happened to be over at your place. “you’re going aren’t you?” you questioned, being pulled in a hug by him. “yeah, i’m sorry.” he mumbled. “i gotta take care of business and then i’ll be all yours okay?” nahoya told you and all you did was nod, knowing there was no way of stopping him.

“i’m sorry, i love you.” he apologized, pecking your lips and getting up after, sending a reassuring smile your way. “souya, stay here with them.” nahoya warned, leaving the house after.

nahoya was beyond pissed and you both knew that, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. no one touches or talks bad about what his and comes out of it unharmed. if they do, don’t call him smiley. they were done for and in his opinion, it’s what they deserved.

— rindou haitani.

you walked into the bonten hideout, being slightly panicked and noticing all eyes on you. ignoring all the looks, you made your way towards rindou. he was sitting in his chair, waiting on you with open arms while already coming up with a plan in his head for whoever dared to bother you.

“rin–“ you started, relaxing in his arms. “some people outside-” you tried to explain, being cut off by his words. “some people bothered you didn’t they?” he questioned, gently rubbing your back, already knowing more than enough from the way you walked in. rindou had been with you long enough to easily guess what’s bothering you without you even telling him.

“shhh, you’re safe now.” he reassured you, glancing over at the guys, telling them to mind their business with just that look. “thank you rin.” you mumbled quietly, relaxing in his arms and smiling weakly, enjoying this moment while it lasted because you knew rindou was going to do something about those people. you knew he would show them what the haitanis were capable of like he always did.

rindou was surprisingly good at comfort, especially at moments like this. it always surprised you how calm he was able to stay in those moments but it genuinely meant the world to you.

— ran haitani

panicked and uncomfortable, that was how you felt when you walked into the bonten hideout. ran looked up from whatever he was doing, frowning a bit but immediately knowing something was up. he made his way over to you and gave the guys a look, putting his full trust into the two guys and that was all they needed to know. especially when this wasn’t the first time that ran ordered them to take care of something.

“go get them.” ran told them, pulling you in a hug after, holding you closely and tightly. “they won’t bother you anymore.” he whispered into your ear, kissing the top of your head after. “thank you, ran.” you answered, not even trying to fight back on this, knowing that when he had his mind set on something, he’d do anything in his power to make it true, especially if it included some kind of violence

“don’t thank me, you know i’d do anything for you.” ran reassured you, looking you in the eyes and softly pecking your lips. “you just continue making me happy and just being you alright?” he asked and you nodded.

“let me take care of the dirty work and turn a blind eye to it, alright?” he smiled down at you, loosening his grip. slightly grinning, knowing that those guys were getting fucked up while he could be here with you and comfort you when you needed him.

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