#hi if you saw the typo version no you didn’t

[sometimes-i-write-good]

Line of Sight

Top Gun: Maverick Jake “Hangman” Seresin x gn!WSOreader [no use of y/n]

1.8k | You’ve got to love how glasses can make even the hottest man then times hotter

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Genre: fluff, crushing

CW: swearing

A/N: I saw a photo of Glen Powell in glasses and now that’s all I ever want to see. (Also, I wrote this on mobile again. So extra apologies if it looks weird or there’s more typos!!) || cross-posted on ao3

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“I don’t see why you can’t just get the surgery,” Jake said, settling further into the uncomfortable office chair. The kind that were made for ten minutes of sitting and not two hours. You clearly didn’t know that though because you’d spend the past two hours on your feet, pacing.

He hadn’t wanted to spend his weekend this way. With you dragging him to various doctors appointments. He actually had a full day of cardio and lifting planned out before beers at the bar tonight, but he couldn’t turn you down once you gave him those puppy dog eyes. They were his favorite feature of yours, your eyes. He could get lost in them… and had on many occasions.

And here you were, trying on dozens of pairs of lenses that would be a barrier between him and Heaven itself.

“Because, Bagman,” you said, tilting your chin down slightly to stare at him over your latest pick. “I’m scared of those lasers fucking my eyes up.”

He scoffed. You were as bad a Rooster some days. Perched on a ledge watching life pass you by. At least you managed to keep Jake on his toes. As quick in the air as you were with your comebacks.

“How ‘bout these.” You pushed the pair up on the bridge of your nose and struck a pose that Jake could only roll his eyes at. “Hot, right?”

“You’re scared of lasers fucking up your eyes, B, but you go and pick out a frame that fucks up your whole face like that?”

If Hangman were looking - and he wasn’t - he could have sworn your face fell a bit at his comment.

Jake waved his hands at the wall. “Try on another one,” he said, purposefully avoiding looking at the small pile you’d already stacked on the technicians desk.

Off you went to peruse the wall of frames with your hands on your hips. Jake wasn’t entirely sure why you were so determined to find the perfect pair. The Navy didn’t exactly allow many choices. But you had been insistent on showing Jake every pair and he, rightfully so, had shot down every single one.

Perhaps slightly harsher than he’d been meaning to come off. It was unfair to take out the frustration of not being able to look you in the eye as well on you. Then again, they were your eyes.

Your eyes. Bright and fierce and blinding. Like the sun.

“I don’t understand what you have against glasses,” you called out to Hangman over your shoulder.

“I don’t know what you have against lasers,” he countered. When you didn’t respond, Jake let a smug smirk settle on his lips. “You could get contacts.”

He watched you shudder as you plucked another pair off the never ending wall of Jake Seresin torture devices. “And touch my eyes? No thank you.”

Jake sighed. You were impossible to reason with. Consistently so considering you’d been this way since he’d met you in flight school. It was how you’d gotten your callsign: Brick.

Because talking to you some days was like talking to a wall.

For obvious reasons, you took immediate offense to the name, but it stuck. Not everyone had the luxury of choosing their own callsigns in this job. One way or another you were going to end up with a nickname you hated. That’s just how the military worked. At least your commanding officers gave you a choice. Brick, bull, or mule. All stubborn. All equally as terrible.

You sulked for a week after that. Easily Jake’s favorite version of you because you had sought him out no matter where he was and hovered until he’d made some smart ass comment that brought a beautiful smile through. He’d always been the one to break down that wall, but you’d, steadily, build it right back up.

“I could put them in for you, B?” He offered, pinching the bridge of his nose, and squeezed his eyes shut hard. Jake was ready to craft you a new pair of eyes if it meant the pair of you could. Leave. This. Office.

“These,” you said, “these are the pair.”

“I don’t think…” but the words died on his lips as he lifted his head. Jake couldn’t do anything but stare. If you were to ask, he wouldn’t be able to tell you the date or year or his own name. All he would be able to do is tell you how stunning you looked.

You grinned, and it made him want to stand up and cross the office and take your face into his hands and kiss that stupid grin right off your face. Jake wouldn’t even mind if the frames of those glasses got in his way. They were ridiculously hot. “Yup.” You grinned wider at the heat working its way up his neck. “These are the ones.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, unable to come up with a good reason for you to abandon this pair. “That’s the pair.”

“You should try some on, Hangman.” You tapped at the side of your frames, still wearing that stupid smile. It was so carefree that he couldn’t help but return it. “Who knows, you might like them.”

His smile flatlined and he crossed his arms. Pouty, like you had been when you asked him to come with today. “I won’t like it. I don’t wear glasses.” You shook your head at him. “I don’t! They’re a sign that I’m anything less than perfect and we can’t have that.”

“We can’t have that,” you echoed, rolling your eyes. “C’mon. I won’t tell anyone about your slip into mediocrity for one day.”

“I want to leave, Brick.”

“Not until you try on a pair of glasses.”

“No.” You crossed your arms at him, mimicking his posture. “I’m serious.”

The sigh you let out almost does Jake in. He’s tempted to try on every pair of glasses. Just to please you, but this asshole mask has been fixed firmly in place for so many years. There’s no sense is removing it to make room for glasses.

“I’m serious, too.” He made a show of making himself as comfortable as possible in this impossibly uncomfortable chair.

“Jake.”

“Nope.”

“Seresin.”

“Not happening.”

“Hangman.”

“Brick.”

“Wall.” You point at yourself.

And that’s when Jake realizes there’s no winning this fight. Not with you digging your heels in like this.

“Fine,” he relented. “One pair. So they better be good.” As soon as he said it, he regretted it. Giving a stubborn person like you a task demanding perfection. “Oh not those, please.”

Your hand hovered over a pair of Ray-Bans that look suspiciously like a different WSO’s. “Why not? They look good on Bob.”

“Glasses do not make a person more attractive.” Jake prided himself for the slightest moment on not stuttering during that little white lie, though he couldn’t bring himself meet your eye. You were too good at picking out his fibs. “I am not wearing Bob’s glasses.”

You shrugged, nonchalant. “They make Bob look hot.”

“You think Bob - callsign ‘Bob’ - is hot?” Something hot shot through Jake. Same as when he was up in the air and Rooster catches Mav’s praise instead of him. “Since when?”

“Since he stared giving you ego checks.” You plucked a pair of glasses off the wall in a haphazard, random fashion and make your way over to Jake. “Here,” you say, “these are going to look good.” You bend over to put a pair of thick-framed black glasses on his face. Completely opposite of the pair Bob wore. He smelled the detergent you used on your clothes on laundry duty last night. He tried hard not to look like he leaned in closer as you move away to look at him.

“Well?” Jake asked, bringing a hand up to monkey with them. “How do I look.”

“I’d be able to tell if you’d sit still for once in your life,” you huffed. Then stomped over to readjust them and Jake let himself bask in the warmth of your nearness a little longer. “You’re as bad as Payback.”

“You’re doing an awful lot of comparin’ today, B.” Hangman laughed as you stuck your tongue out him. His careful eyes watched you walk backward to take him in again. “So, verdict?”

“They’re- uh, you… you look fine.” The stony facade of flirting and nothing more has cracked. Jake can see by the way you fiddled with your fingertips and the part in your lips as you held back a sigh.

He sat up with a laugh. “You’re swooning!” Jake pulled himself out of his chair and reached for a mirror. The reflection that stared back was handsome. A scholar more than a smartass. If he ever matured, this would be the perfect way to show it.

“Okay, Narcissus.” You snatched the mirror from his hands. It is returned to the table. Face down. “Enough staring at yourself.”

“I’m more Adonis than Narcissus, wouldn’t you say?” He laughed at the groan you let out. “What? I can’t help how hot I am in glasses.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“I’m hot, but am I Bob hot?” He teased.

“Oh, shut up.” You plop down in the empty chair next to him, rubbing at your neck, and avoiding his eye.

“You’re turning red…” he said, lips quirking back into a devilish grin - “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, Seresin!” - “Red as a brick!”

You rolled your eyes at his stupidity, and he was glad to still clearly see that glint of affection through your glasses. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It kills the joke if I have to explain it, B.” He nudged you softly with his elbow. “I should have expected it, being the smartest one in the room and all.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.” He pulled down his glasses to look at you over the tops of the frames.

“Not remotely.”

“Not enough to buy me lunch?”

You let out a laugh. He wanted to freeze that moment in time to capture this flirtatious laugh of yours. “Definitely not that much.”

“I just spent an entire Saturday following from doctor to dentist to doctor-”

“Fine,” you cut him off, “I’ll buy lunch, Bagman.”

“Dick.”

“Hey!” You snap your head to the side to look at him and use one finger to push your glasses down so that you’re staring Jake straight in the eye. “It’s Brick to you, sir.”

“That completely defeats the purpose of having glasses, you know.”

You smiled. He wanted to drop his gaze down to your lips but knew the implications that would hold. So, instead, he held your gaze.

“I know, I just want to look at you.”

His heart stuttered at your words. The two of you stare for longer than either of you had dared to push past before turning to look your separate ways. Maybe coming with wasn’t such a bad decision.

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Tag list:

@rosiahills22

#top gun maverick #hangman top gun #top gun imagine #top gun fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman fic #fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw #robert bob floyd #rueben payback fitch

[creelteeth]

being eddie munson’s favorite groupie

a.n. this isn’t a fluid piece it’s like a couple different blurbs all at once !! purely for self indulgent purposes. i didn’t proof read this very well don’t get mad at me if there’s typos.

c.w. Explicit Content 18+ only , exhibitionism/semi-public sex, afab reader, jealous eddie, rough sex , no foreplay , mild degradation, biting.

he just loves the way you throw yourself at him. you’ve got absolutely no shame, doing whatever you possibly can to get his attention and keep it. though, the reality being , he’s been yours since the first time he saw you.

you’re his arm candy, his muse, his play thing.

waiting outside to see him after every show. you never fail to beg for an autograph. blinking those big googly eyes up at him, hitting him with a pretty please as if he would even consider brushing you off the way he does others. a wave of heat washing over your entire body when his calloused fingers grab hold of your neck— cocking your head to the side so that he can sign your chest. scribbling an E.M. in black ink right across your tits, leaving little hearts around his name. you wear his claim on you so proudly and fuck he loves it so much.

—

always getting let in the venue before everyone else so that you can go see him during soundcheck. you’re his good luck charm. he’s convinced he doesn’t perform as well if he doesn’t get to dump his load in your pretty pussy before every show.

he’s always so careful not to smudge your makeup when he’s got your face squished up against the bathroom mirror backstage. fucking you ruthlessly up against the cold ceramic. he makes sure to fuck you full of cum before sending you out to join the rest of the crowd. he likes keeping you full, thinks it alleviates the issue of you getting jealous if he takes another girls bra on stage— or sends someone a wink.

—

he parks you right in front of his microphone at every show so that he can bend down and grab you by the throat in front of everyone. sweaty strands of hair dangling above your face, he’s out of breath and he’s drenched in sweat but he knows you like him best like this. planting a big sloppy wet kiss to your lips before resuming the set.

—

he nearly creams his pants when you show up to one of the shows wearing the new corroded coffin merch. you’ve got it tied up in a little knot just above your belly button, the way it stretches tight around your body drives him absolutely insane. you intentionally bought one a size or so too small so it would fit tight to your skin. your nipples so clearly visible through the thin white fabric.

the minute the set is over he’s making a roadie come get you. while everyone else is headed out the exit, you’re being guided to the back— it garners a few looks but by now you have a reputation. you’re eddie’s, everyone in the scene knows it. people either love it or detest it, either way you don’t care.

eddie’s waiting for you at the end of a shallow dark hallway. his version of the same shirt you’re wearing reeks of sweat and beer from the mess he made attempting to shotgun a can of miller lite on stage. he’s dazed, still buzzing off adrenaline and it’s quite obvious. his big glossy eyes stare down at you hungrily.

normally, eddie would pull you away to somewhere private but not tonight. you’re not even given much of a greeting before he’s got his mouth on you. his arms hook their way around your waist, the kiss is desperate and sloppy. his tongue moving all about your mouth— so much so that the sounds coming from your connected mouths are beyond grotesque.

he guides you back a few feet until you’re wedged between him and a cold cement wall. the contact with the wall makes you gasp, disconnecting your lips to catch your breath.

“eddie..” you breathe out, looking over his shoulder at the roadies who are taking down the band stuff to load into the trucks.

you were tucked away in a dark corner but surely they all knew what was going on. he didn’t pay them any mind. he was the rockstar in this scenario, he should be able to do what he pleases, right? should be able to fuck his favorite groupie anywhere he wanted.

his hands began to roam, grabbing a fistful of your chest. lips latching onto your neck suckling marks into the skin.

“eds.. they’re gonna see us.” you whined, hesitancy being overclouded by arousal when his groping increased. calloused fingers slipping under your skirt to press against your clothed mound.

“so let them—“ he spoke gruffly, voice hoarse from the show. “bet they’re all dying to watch me fuck my best groupie. you want them to watch you, don’t you baby?”

eddie knew that this end of the hall was pitch black but he enjoyed feeling you tense up at the idea of being watched. he knew you loved it too, your arousal soaked through your underwear almost as soon as he mentioned it.

you didn’t respond with words, only a whimper. which was all the go ahead he needed to begin fumbling with his belt. messing with the handcuff shaped belt buckle, he got his pants open and yanked them down until they were around his thighs. his big leaky cock springing out. he dropped one hand to stroke himself a few times. the achey tip of his cock dragging against the leather skirt you wore, smearing the sticky droplets that beaded out of him across your thigh.

normally he would’ve spent more time on you, but tonight he didn’t have the time or patience. quickly hiking your skirt up. his fingers tangled up in your fishnets, ripping them open. the harshness of his actions making you gasp.

eddie couldn’t see your face, but he didn’t really care to if we’re being frank.

he used the tip of his cock to push the soaked panties to the side. taking hold of one of your thighs, lifting it to let it prop on his hip. he let the swollen tip of his cock rub against your throbbing clit.

“i saw you, y’know?” he whispered against your skin.

eddie pressed all of his weight into you. your head falling back against the concrete, eyes fluttering from feeling him prod against you. he rubbed a few more firm circles before angling the head of his cock against your leaky hole.

“what?” you breathed, trying to look at his face but it was too dark.

“i fucking saw you.” he repeated, hips jutting forward to plunge every girthy inch into your hole without warning.

the stretch made you cry out, a cold sweat coating every inch of your skin. he wasn’t usually this rough with you.

the suddenness pulled you out of your confusion. you still didn’t know what he was talking about but you couldn’t focus when he was inside you like this.

your body clung to his, nails digging into his back— trying to get use to the feeling of his cock buried so deep inside you.

“oh fuck- eds.” you whined, walls clenching around him.

lucky for you, he wasn’t moving yet. giving you a good fifteen seconds to get use to the feeling before he began to fuck into you. mushroomy tip plunging ruthlessly.

he had his face buried in the curve of your neck, licking and biting at the skin. biting harshly enough to leave indents where his teeth were.

“saw you flirting with my opening act.” eddie grumbled, his hips crashing into you with every thrust.

a mix of your pitiful whine and his heavy balls slamming against your ass echoed down the hallway. lucky for your dignity, you couldn’t be seen— though the roadies had plenty to whisper about purely based off the lewd noises that they heard.

“w-what?” you stuttered, legs wobbling under him.

your confusion made him scoff, his thrusts only pushing deeper. the head of his cock reaching so deeply it made your stomach churn.

“you know i don’t like to share, sweetheart.” eddie continued on his rant, cock twitching inside you.

if you were empty you might’ve been able to piece together what he was talking about— but with the rough cement was scraping the back of your thigh and eddie’s cock ruthlessly pounding against your sensitive spot you could barely form a thought.

“n-no.. ed’s yours. im only y-yours. “ you babbled your words out, walls tightening around him.

“shit, that’s fucking right. you’re my fucking whore, aren’t you.” he cooed, tongue licking a stripe up the side of your neck.

you whimpered in response. a faint “yours” hiccuping out of you.

“taking this cock so well, aren’t you? this pretty pussy all for me. “ eddie moaned, hot breath fanning over your face.

his thrusts started to lag a bit, cock throbbing inside of you. he was reaching his end soon. his aggression became to calm down, satisfied with the way you melted underneath him.

“ ‘s just for you eds. only, fuck, only you. “ you cried out , hips rocking to meet his thrusts.

he slipped a hand between the two of you, thumbing fast circles against your swollen clit. the added pleasure bringing you to the brink of your own orgasm.

at this point you couldn’t be bothered to think about who could hear or see. you could hardly think about anything besides the feeling of him all over you. eddie consumed all of your senses.

“go on, baby. cum on my cock. let them all hear how much you love taking this dick.” eddie coaxed you along, projecting the end of his sentence.

it hit you then, that he was trying to prove a point. both to you and the crew members who thought they could dip into eddie’s collection.

wanting to satisfy him, you got louder with him. his sweat drenched forehead pressing against yours. the sticky wet sounds of your bodies growing louder as you both approached your orgasms.

“you’re gonna let me fuck you full of my cum, aren’t you, baby?” eddie growled, tightening his hold on your waist feeling you tremble and weaken.

you couldn’t respond with a full sentence. a string of eddie’s name and desperate pleas billowing out of your mouth. your orgasm crashing against you like a wave.

feeling your slick walls tightening around him brought eddie to his edge too. hips stuttering trying to fuck deeper into you. hot cum shooting out of him and into you.

eddie came down from his high first, body slotted yours. the two of you panted, sweaty foreheads still pressed against each other. once you’d gained your footing again, eddie pulled out, some of hjs cum dripping down your thigh.

you stayed against the cold cement for a minute, really just dreading being seen in broad light after this.

“i wasn’t flirting with him, by the way.” you quipped, hands tugging back down the leather skirt, examining the large rip in your fishnets. “he was flirting with me and i graciously told him i wasn’t interested. “

you couldn’t see the look on eddie’s face but you knew he frowned. trying to shake off the fact that he probably was a bit more attached to you than he lets on.

“right.. well, let’s get going.” he shook the topic off, slinging a heavy arm over your shoulder to walk you out to the loading dock.

you wrapped your arms around his waist, putting on the best poker face of your life. the room filled with men all gawked at the way you two sauntered past them. the lead singer from the opening band looking particularly defeated.

eddie looked at the vocalist, shooting him a very boastful smile before dragging out to the transport van that waited out front.

#casey writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #this has been sitting in my drafts for ages #idk if i like it.

[just-sp-in-inginthevoid]

This post was actually a shortened/kind of summarize version of the following post that has been sitting in my draft since August.

oOo

Spoilers for the few last chapters of Tokyo Revengers

More than probable use of wrong verb tense, possibility of typos and sentences which make no sense

Not a native English speaker

oOo

When he first saw her - and he realized he was about to see her before the hospital became visible in the window of the car - he cried.

He couldn't have hold it back. Apprehension had twisted his guts during the entire trip, each step sinking the realization deeper in his mind and yet he didn't dare to word it. The information had been an abstract thought - he couldn't find the word to make it take shape. Then he saw her, in the bed, exhausted, he didn't remember her not being exhausted. She smiled to him. It was easy to notice her eye-bags when her eyes became crescents of moon, almost close but never enough to stop looking at her youngest son. Her angel.

It had been five days since him and Takemichi came back, he had been so caught up in his new joyful - almost utopian - reality to think about what would happen on the following Wednesday. He didn't stop crying the day they came back either. He tried to. But the sight of Sanzu without his scars alongside Baji, Emma and Shinichiro got the better of him. It must have been an unusual look on his face, even back then, because Shinichiro let him have the day off of school. Sanzu and Baji left without him, concerned, and he wished he could have stopped Emma. He wished he could've trapped her in his arms and not let her go - but he had been too busy doing it to Shinichiro to hold her back.

He hadn't left his brother's side the entire day. And Takemichi didn't left his (later that day when he finally went back to his home - after lots of crying because 'I'm so glad you're happy' and lots of concerns and of 'are you sure you're okay, Mikey-kun?' - he got scolded by his own mother for skipping school. He most likely told her that he was 'helping a friend and couldn't leave him alone'. To be honest, Mikey indeed hadn't wanted Takemichi to leave him. He needed him to show him how to get used to it. It was new. It was confusing. He didn't know how to deal with all of this. He had never been tall, but the world became even bigger. He didn’t remember being so small. Everything felt unreal).

He didn't leave his brother for the weekend either. Shinichiro had been worried sick the entire time. Mikey simply couldn't help himself, he cried and cried every time the relief and happiness struck him. They were alive. Everyone. Everyone was.

(He barely slept, scared that if he closed his eyes it'd be taken away from him.)

(Shinichiro stayed up all night, working on his bikes. Checking on him every hour, agitated that his brother wasn’t sleeping.)

And it was not until Wednesday of this week, when Shinichiro jokingly said he must be truly insanely sick to not jump in the car the moment he could, then jokingly (and worriedly, really worriedly but he tried not to show it) asked if he hadn't forgotten something while holding up Mikey's old blanket, it wasn't until then that the thought that everyone was alive really set in.

He walked in the hallways of the hospital, surrounded by the whiteness of everything, as if he was in a trance. One of his hand was holding Shinichiro's, the other his old blanket. Emma and his grandpa were walking in front of them. Mikey was walking more slowly than how he was used to. But his surrounding were surreal - they weren't distorted but he put one step in front of the other as if they were. He had no idea how he was supposed to act. His grip had tightened around Shinichiro's hand and Shinichiro did the same thing in an attempt to comfort him, a painful confusion twisting his face.

The door opened. He saw her. She saw him. He froze. Time stopped. Shinichiro put his hand on his shoulder, then lightly shook it. He fell apart.

It hadn't been tears of joy.

Perhaps that's why he didn't think of her prior to that point. Everyone was alive - but they wouldn't be forever. But that was okay, because they would have time to live and he would have time to grieve and they'd all be old and happy and-

His mother had only a few months left. It was October, next year when the roads would be covered by the snow, she would die the same way she died the previous time. It couldn't be prevented.

He put his hands on his face, hiding it, ashamed. Crying in a public space was much more shameful than at home or alone. The feeling made him cried even more despite trying his best to hold everything back. He denied any sound to come out from his throat but his shoulders kept shaking. He could feel everyone's eyes on him. It was horrible. He hated it.

His old blanket was near his face now, and as if he wasn't so caught up in realizing his mother was alive enough, it finally clicked in his mind - 'it' being the reason his mother's scent was all over his old blanket. He must have been an idiot, for thinking it was because he was back in the past and it didn't have had the time to go away yet. Five days of holding it nonstop (for comfort, for it to absorb his tears, and because mom's scent is still here, I can't believe I haven't forgotten it. It's been so long) and he hadn't figured it out. (What could he have done if he did, anyway? But cry more?)

His palms were drenched in tears. And mucus. Crying was such an ugly thing to do, how could Takemichi do it so often?

Shinichiro (nobody had said a word, he wondered what their body language communicated) pushed him ever so gently forward. Mikey didn't protest and walked until his legs hit the hospital bed frame. Two hands - cold and safe - pulled him up and he followed, climbing on the bed his hands still on his face.

His mother’s arms caged him against her chest, fingers stroking his hair and caressing his back with care. A sob slipped out from the barrier of his lips, a flow of them quickly following. He didn't have neither the energy nor the want to stop it. He gave in to the comfort and didn't find it in himself to feel guilty about it.

Nobody made a sound but him with his awful uncontrollable sobs. He felt as if his throat and chest were being compressed. He was so, so exhausted. When was the last time he moved freely without an invisible weight crushing his body? When was the last time he rested without guilt suffocating him? And of course, when was the last time he lived without the curse carved in his veins?

It was too much. Too much changes. Too much hopes. Too much memories. What was and what could be, what would be, everything Takemichi and him had to plan - all too much.

Sano Manjiro didn't fear anything, but he did stress some times.

And he was letting it all out, everything he had held back for who knows many years because he was in his mother's arms and despite knowing he could be there again only for a limited number of times, despite knowing pain was near, he felt safe and unable to be convinced of anything else but that everything would be okay. His mom was comforting him, how could it not?

After a while (could’ve been ten minutes or two hours for all he knew) breathing finally came back to him, stabilized. He hated crying. It was more bearable when Shinichiro or his mom held him and hid him from the world.

He had turned his head to look at the room, quietly weeping. Shinichiro, Emma and his grandpa left at some point. He only noticed it after finally calming down in his mother's embrace.

He told her the same thing he told Shinichiro when she asked what was wrong - that he had had the worst nightmare. Then did his best not to say any detail as she - just like Shinichiro had the previous days - pressed him to share what he had dreamed of.

There was relief with confessing to his mom what had happened, even vaguely. His heart became lighter, getting rid of that burden. His mom was trust, his mom was safety. He could tell her that he had dreamed of losing every person he ever cared for one by one and how agonizing it had been. He could bitterly admit he was responsible for it happening, that it was all his fault. And he could also reassure her, saying that she didn’t have to worry, that a hero came to save him and promised to give him a happy ending. To give them all a happy ending.

He had woken up from the nightmare, and that was all that mattered.

His mom didn’t agree with him. She said that even though the nightmare hadn’t ended as one, it didn’t change the fact it affected him. That he shouldn’t shove it aside because it was over but rather do what he was doing at that moment : cry and look around for someone to listen and to console him, to do it as many times as he needed.

Mikey was of the idea that what was over, was over and remembering it wouldn’t do any good.

She softly scolded him with kind and loving eyes, removing the drying tears on his cheeks and they returned to tranquil silence.

His mom started humming a familiar lullaby, one he had had forgotten the lyrics of. He lost track of time, glad to spend the rest of eternity here. He exceeded the time he usually spent paying visits in the hospital. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay here forever, in perfect peace.

His conscience drift away without his notice.

When he woke up, he was on Shinichiro’s back, walking through the entrance of their house.

They walked by the calendar in the living room and Mikey didn’t want to count the remaining weeks before his mother’s passing.

Who was to say it’d stay the same ? It was his greatest fright at the moment - that she would die before the day he remembered her death happening. Or after. He didn't want to lose her again, but the uncertainty of when she would die was eating him alive.

Her dying before would make him panic because she wasn't supposed to, her not dying on the day he remembers her dying would make him panic because then when will it happen? He couldn't hope. He could only apprehend the inevitable.

Because that's what it was. Takemichi and him could try all they want, but they could only stop preventable death and it wasn't one. At the end of the day, people are meant to die. This included his mom, this included everyone else from his loved-ones to complete strangers. Death in itself was inevitable.

He cried again.

He had cried a lot during the first few weeks. Takemichi had hold him close and tight. He had cried too.

Takemichi really did cry for everything. Mikey remembered when he used to think such people were weak.

Takemichi suggested he tells his mother - about his past life. Perhaps under the guise of a nightmare (like he had done up to that point). That it would help. Mikey had no clue how telling his mother he killed someone would help, but he considered it (if only because Takemichi was the one to suggest it). This night, he pondered whether Shinichiro would've told their mother or father he killed someone if they had been alive. Then he realized Shinichiro wouldn't have ever killed anyone if their parents had been alive.

And their mom will die just like their father did. It was unavoidable.

This was the truth he didn't want to face.

She would die again and so would everybody else.

There was no other end to this story, beings live to die.

Beings live to love and grieve.

(He had to find a way to be the first to go.)

#tr #tok rev #tokyo revengers #final timeline #tr spoilers #tokrev spoilers #tokyo revengers spoilers #technically this is still a summarized version of ideas but im too lazy to flesh it out completely lol

[allandoflimbo]

I  C  E    P R I N C E S S  13

Pairings: Popular Girl!Reader x Outkast!Bucky

Explicit Content - Smut - NO MINORS

Summary: 

Bucky Barnes is the quiet boy who gets picked on. 

The Reader and her friends run with the popular crowd at Stark High. 

As the Winter Ball approaches, she is partnered with Bucky Barnes for a class project. They grow close in an inadvertently secret friendship, which later turns into love.

Only catch is…she’s Steve Roger’s ex girlfriend, and before she was partnered up with Bucky, her friends had planned to use and turn Bucky into Stark High’s new it boy to try and get back at Steve; a disgusting bet. 

Another catch: She’s a figure skater at the town’s arena every Tuesday and Thursday nights. Bucky works part time at the rink resurfacing the ice. The other doesn’t know.

Modern AU High School fic - later goes into adulthood.

M A S T E R P A G E - FULL SERIES

Warnings: This story will have a lot of angst, a lot of fluff, a lot of cursing, and a lot of sex. Oral, praise kink, body worship, overstimulation, etc. you know me. There will also be loss of virginity in this. 

Please support your content creators and writers and leave a review.

P R E V I O U S   C H A P T E R

Song this chapter is based on is Red by Taylor Swift, but the Tyler Ward Version. (Because it's Bucky's POV)

This chapter is more angst than usual BUT this isn't the angst part I was warning about yet lol. I apologize for any typos. I just got back from vacay and I wanted to push this out for you guys ASAP.

Enjoy!

___

EVERYTHING still felt so surreal; and in the best way possible. The rest of the trip at the Cabin had gone well. Bucky was becoming even more comfortable with your friends, even almost calling them his friends at this point. Everyone except Murdock. You and Bucky ignored him and his brooding energy the rest of the stay there. After confirming everyone’s suspicions that you were in fact now dating, you both stayed glued at the hip. You ended the last night cuddling on the couch watching some action movie.

The next morning, Bucky had picked you up in his car for school. You shared a quick kiss as you buckled yourself in. The ride there had gone great as you both shared sweet words and hand squeezes. Sometimes even a thigh squeeze from the other.

You should’ve known it was going too well to be true. You and Bucky had gone separate ways for just a minute to go into your own locker to grab your things. On your back way to meet him at his, since you finished first, you had walked in on the altercation.

You felt your blood run cold as you watched Matt towering over Bucky. Bucky’s back up to his locker as he stared back at Matt angrily. There was already a little audience. Not big, but two or three other girls that were getting their own things in the locker next to Bucky’s.

“You think because you’re so quiet, Barnes, and because you put up this act that you don’t think I know what you didn’t do. That’s what.” You could hear Matt say.

There was something about Matt’s tone and words that set you on edge. Bucky’s jaw clenched.

“You need to stay the hell away from me.” Bucky says back, confidently.

Matt’s lips twitch and his eyes squint.

“Finally grew the balls to use your mouth properly?” He moved up even closer to Bucky, their faces now only inches apart, “That disgusting rapist mouth of yours.” There was a collection of gasps from the small group of girls and Bucky’s nose flared. You felt your own blood boiling now as you ran up to them, “I saw her damn neck. Hell, I heard her crying that night. You don’t deserve to be anywhere. Only place you deserve is behind a damn jail cell.”

You were disgusted by what you heard him say, and as you pushed a hand to Matt’s chest pushing him away from Bucky, you couldn’t help your temper.

“Get the hell away from him! Now.” You say through clenched teeth.

“Don’t worry, I have this.” Bucky says quietly, grabbing your hand and holding it in his. Matt’s jaw clenched. Bucky took a step closer to Matt, “I’m going to ask you politely once, and only once, leave me and leave her the fuck alone.”

You looked briefly at the girls who were still looking and you shook your head.

“It’s not true,” you say. You then look at Matt, “He’s right. Leave me alone. Leave all of us alone. I was willing to put up with it, but what you just said to him has crossed the line, Matt. He’s my boyfriend. Bucky is my boyfriend. I care about him. And about my hickeys? You want to grow up and ask my about them to my face next time since you’re so curious about being in my business?”

“You know I’m just trying to protect you.” Matt says.

“You’re doing everything except protect me or be my friend right now. Bucky didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t want. I don’t know what your problem is but you need to stay away from us.” You say with finality.

Matt shakes his head to himself, that fiery anger still in his eyes. He then moves at a speed that takes you a second longer to comprehend what he’s doing. He has Bucky’s collar in his hands and he’s pushing him up against the locker.

“Really, dweeb. You? You?”

“Fucking, stop!” You shout, pulling Matt off of him. Matt drops his hand like it’s burned and he steps away from you and Bucky abruptly. 

He’s breathing hard as he looks between you and Bucky and then he storms away. You and Bucky try to ignore the new stares from the hallway and you turn to face him. Bucky’s is still watching Matt walk away as you nuzzle your face into his chest, his right hand going to the back of your head.

“The hell is his problem?” Bucky asks quietly, completely confused.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Bucky was nervous. He was also so excited and anxious. As he rolled his black dress shirt up to his elbows, he looked at himself in the mirror. He also looked all those three things. His blue eyes were brighter than usual and for the first time in a long time he felt comfortable in his own skin.

It was all because of you.

His heart skips a beat as he feels the little note in his pocket move around along with his ticket.

“Well, don’t you look sharp.” The sweet feminine voice comes from behind him and he turns around to meet his mother’s eyes. 

She was smiling at him knowingly, her arms crossed over her chest.

Bucky blushed. He walked up to his desk and grabbed his phone, sliding it into his back pocket.

“Thanks, mom.” He says. He walks up to his mother and gives her a kiss on the cheek, “You don’t think I’m overdressed for a play?”

His mother looked up at him and smiled. 

“Not at all. You have the note?” She asks.

Bucky nods.

“Yeah. Just like how dad did it.” He says with a chuckle.

His mom reaches up and kisses his cheek this time.

“She’ll say yes,” Bucky knows. He was sure of it, too. Him and you just…clicked. This wasn’t high school sweethearts. This was something else. Something stronger, “Drive safe.”

Bucky nods and grabs his jacket. He double checks he has everything he needs.

“Tell Y/N we say hi!” Bucky’s father yells out, just before the front door closes behind him.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

When Bucky parks at the school, he doesn’t hesitate one second after the car’s off to run to your side and open the door for you.

“Thank you.” You thank him softly.

He closes the door behind you. His eyes meet yours as he pushes one of your hair strands behind your ear and you swallow hard.

“You look gorgeous,” his eyes drifts down your nose, “You always have.” He adds quietly.

“Bucky.” You say.

His gaze returns to your own. You’re the one to initiate this kiss. Your hand goes to his peck and up his shoulder as your lips meet. It’s a sweet kiss. Innocent and PG13. He returns your kisses and you pull away with little smiles.

“Yeah?”

You could feel a tightness in your throat as you imagined yourself with him, many years from now, happy.

“Promise me that you’ll take me with you when you visit New York City?” Your question stuns him for a moment, and because of that he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. He observes your face, dragging the backs of his fingers over the skin of your temple and cheek, “Please.”

He leans forward until his forehead is against yours. He brings his left hand to your waist and pulls you in closer to him. Both of your eyes close at the same time.

“I promise, Squirmy.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The play was adorable. You and Bucky loved every moment of it and you held hands the entire time. You didn’t let go of his hand once.

After the show, Carol meets you both at your seats and gives you both a hug, thanking you for coming to see her.

The night is a Christmas fairytale. 

Bucky tickles your waist from behind as you reach his car and you laugh out loud.

“Bucky stop!” You shout, giggling.

He does once he has your back against the side of his car and he’s staring intently down at you.

He leans forward and kisses you on the tip of your nose.

You giggle again. He kisses your right cheek, your cupids bow, and then your bottom lip.

“I’ve never felt like this. With anyone.” You say, dragging your fingers over his neck. He can feel the cute little ring you’re wearing on your pinky dragging over his skin and he loves the way it feels.

“Me either,” he whispers back. When he looks into your eyes this time there’s an intense look in them, “I want to ask you something.”

You feel your hear skyrocket.

“Okay.” You whisper back.

He smiles so sweetly as he looks down at your lips that you absolutely melt into your short red heels.

“Will you go to the Winter Ball with me?” You melt even more if possible and you smile back at him just as wide.

“Of course I’ll go with you.” you say quietly. You rub your nose against him and chuckle, “Yes. I’ll go with you.

Bucky nods and licks his lips. You watch as he reaches down into his pocket and holds something in his hand. Curiosity eats away at you.

“One more question,” he says. You nod, “Go to prom with me?”

You get so happy and ecstatic. So much that your hand wraps around the back of his neck and you let out a little noise of excitement. Prom. With Bucky. You’re forming your lips to say yes, duh, when you remember your promise to Steve.

Bucky’s looking at you, waiting for your yes, when he watches you dramatically deflate and your face falls. He feels his own dark pit in his stomach grow bigger as he realizes you’re not saying yes and you’re actually looking like you’re about to say no.

He frowns, swallowing the hard lump in his throat. 

“Y/N…”

“I—“ your voice cracks and tears bloom in your eyes. You wanted Bucky. But your promise, “I—” he catches on quickly and he lets out an exasperated sigh, through no fault of his own. Your hand drops his neck.

He didn’t expect thing. He doesn’t know what he didn’t prepare for you to say no. Maybe it’s because he was so sure it’d be a yes.

It’s prom for fucks sake. He’d remember that night for a very long time and he really wanted it to be with you, and now here you are, shutting that fantasy/dream down.

“I understand.” He says hoarsely. He didn’t expect his voice to sound so broken so he clears his throat.

“Bucky—”

“It’s fine,” no it’s not, “you don’t have to explain.”

“But I do. And maybe you can help me.” You say desperately, putting a hand up to his chest. He stares at you confused, and so emotional. He furrows his brows at you and shakes his head.

“Help you?” “Help me decide.” You clarify. He looks at you for a half a second longer before scoffing. It hurts, but you expected no less. So you continue, “Steve. I went out with him for years. He’s been my best friend for longer. We’ve always talked about going to prom together, we promised each other. A pact so to say. I can’t just break that, even though — fuck — even though I’d much rather go with you because what I feel for you—” your voice is the one that breaks this time and you sniff away tears that are starting to build up.

“Steve, the guy who cheated on you?”

“That’s not fair. You don’t know the story. You don’t know our story.”

Bucky nods, looking away from you.

“Right. The high school sweethearts.”

“Bucky—”

“Seriously, you don’t have to —” there’s a certain malice to his tone and you cut him off again.

“I feel stronger things for you than him. I want to go with you more than him. I want this with you. I want to say yes.” You say seriously, not looking away from his eyes once.

You and Bucky are both looking at each other heartbreakingly. He gnaws at his bottom lip.

“Then —” he starts and stops, “If you have to even think about it, I think my answer is already there.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I know it’s not,” he sighs and grabs your hand and holds it to his chest right above his heart, “but you said you made a promise, right?” His voice cracks again and you both hate this, “I feel the things you’re are feeling, too. About me, I mean. I also feel them for you,” he laughs humorlessly, “so much.”

You whimper.

“I can speak to him.” You say.

Bucky doesn’t know what to suggest or think about right now. Yes, he’d love for you to say yes and come with him as his date, but he’s surprised to a certain level that you’re even comparing what you feel with him to what you felt with Steve. Even if you did make a promise. He feels a frustration he can’t explain.

Which is why he pulls your hand off his heart and squeeze it once before letting go. It’s then that you feel the little paper in your hand. 

Your tear filled eyes look at the little white folded paper in your hand. You start to unfold it.

“Don’t,” he stops you, “you don’t have to read it now. Later, please. I know you didn’t say yes, but you did say yes to the ball, right? I still want you to have the note,  because I still mean everything in there. Your answer didn’t not change anything.” You nod your head, “Let’s take you home, Squirmy.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The car ride is mostly silent. Occasionally one of you will say a comment that makes the other chuckle, but it’s short lived. 

You know you just need the night to just let it all sink in, but everything would be alright.

When you kiss him goodnight, he kisses you back just as deeply.

Bucky watches as you walk to your front door. His head rests on his left hand, left elbow on his car door, and his right hand stays tight around the steering wheel.

He feels a sadness, jealousy, and anger he had never felt before yet in this relationship. Hell, he knows it’s only been a few days, but he could not take the feelings boiling inside of him. 

When he gets home and slams his own front door closed, his dad’s already yelling at him.

“Hey! No slamming doors, Buck.”

Bucky knows his father is right, he was raised better than that, but he was upset. He doesn’t even acknowledge him as he rips off his jacket and hangs it up on the mini coat rack.

Bucky walks into the kitchen for a cold water bottle out of the fridge.

“How’d it go?” He hears his mother ask from the living room. He knows what she’s asking. He’s also a bit disappointed because she should be in bed resting. She’s been out of her bed, which the doctor told her she should stay in, more often than she should be.

He uncaps the bottle and downs a few ounces. 

It helps only a little.

“She said no.” Bucky mumbles, voice wavering as he makes his way up the stairs and to his room.

He lets his door close quietly behind him, but he’s still feeling the same way.

He places his water bottle on his desk and stretches his arms out onto it. He takes in a deep breath and tries to calm himself down.

He was being dramatic. 

It’s just a stupid high school dance.

It’s just a stupid high school dance.

Feeling his nerves relax just slightly, he blindly reaches for his bottle, but the edge of it catches on his notebook, causing it to fall to the floor.

“Shit.”

Loose pages had fallen out at his feet. He bends down to pick it up and puts them properly inside. 

It’s when he lifts the last paper than he sees the beautiful rose from all those weeks ago that he had found at the rink. The one he had stored safely in the notebook.

Its color has faded now and it was dry. But preserved.

With delicate hands, he picks up the rose and places it back inside the notebook.

It’s then that he sees one of the pedals had fallen off.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

You regret opening the note the second you fall back behind your front door, thankful your parents had the graveyard shift tonight.

I’ve always hoped to live wishes and dreams I’ve only ever heard about 

To know I’m living that right now with you is the best gift i’ve ever received

I hope to keep living out my wishes with you and dreams if you let me

You’ll be my princess at the ball and prom, and I’ll be your prince.

I knew you’d say yes, because you and me, this is real. 

I’m not living a dream, you’re my dream.

You break down into tears.

_____

N E X T C H A P T E R

Tag list: @dinoswierdmom @sebsgirl71479 @wintasssoldier@melimelbean @steadygoopangelhairdo @prettywhenicry4@bonkybarnes106 @undeadhoneydew @midnightvitality @ene-rene @ccmarvelxx @hanahkatexo @gr33nleo​ @missaprilt23​ @lfaewrites @charmedbysarge @tilltheendofthelinepal9950 @buckybarnesandmarvel @ducks118 @lokisdrottning @kianamka @toadstools119 @adoringsebstan @troubledhemmings@buckybarnesandmarvel @charmedbysarge@buckybarnesandmarvel​ @redbarn1995​ @chloe-skywalker 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #bucky x you #fanfiction

[unvalley]

Daycare Love

← Previous

A/N: Surpise! Daycare Love is back! I'm sorry this took years to update. I'm not really too satisfied with my writing here and there're probably lots of typos and grammar errors but I hope you still can enjoy it. Thank you for waiting! :) ♡

Chapter four | Guilt

Juvia would like to think she was a professional at keeping work related matters at work and work only. However, that night after her very…interesting first day of work, she could no longer call herself a pro. 

There she was, tossing and turning in bed, left and right and her thoughts would not stop. Gray would not go away. Aster would not disappear. 

As wrong as it may sound, if it was another family, Juvia would have been sleeping like a baby hours ago but this was Gray. He wasn’t some random stranger. He was her best friend, even how much she knew she had no right calling him that anymore after what she did to him. 

Seeing Gray again after all those years brought back so many memories from their childhood and teenage years.So did feelings return, feelings she didn’t remember she had. 

As all these thoughts 

Yesterday in the break room, Cana was unable to explain further what exactly she meant by Aster not having a mother but if she would bring it up again Juvia wouldn’t push her about it. She felt like Gray  should be the person to tell her if he wanted to but if he didn’t want to she wouldn’t be disappointed. 

But to say Juvia wasn’t curious was a lie. There were a couple possibilities she thought about. Did Gray’s partner pass away? Did they have a bad break-up? Or maybe Gray really wanted to raise a child on his own? The first options were possible but the third? It didn’t seem likely, considering he would have ‘’only’’ been as young as twenty one or twenty two when Aster was born. Also the fact that Gray  wanted to prioritise his career. Juvia recalled the day Gray told her just that.  

___

It was friday, after school,which meant it was Caramade Franks day for the blue and raven hair best friends. They were sitting on a bench in Magnolia park eating while simultaneously playing something like 21 ish questions. 

‘’No way you like pineapple on pizza!’’ Gray couldn’t believe what he was hearing.‘’I was rooting for you, Juvia’’

‘’Oh please’’ Juvia rolled her eyes at her best friend's very dramatic reaction. ‘’Have you actually tried it or have you just decided to agree with what randoms on the internet?’’ 

Silence. 

‘’Thought so’’

As she was trying to come up with a question to ask him next, she saw a family. A father, a mother and a child. The child looked between one and two years old. They were playing football, the parents cheering every time their little one kicked the football which made the toddler beam and sometimes go ‘’Yay!’’. Their interaction made Juvia’s heart melt. She hoped that one day she would have what they have; A happy family. 

‘’Okay, this is deeper than the other questions. Do you see yourself with a family of your own in the future?

‘’Yes’’ Gray answered smiling, without hesitation. ‘’I would like to settle down with my person and hopefully have mini versions of us running around our house. Only if she wants to, I know how painful birth can be’’ 

Gray’s unexpected answer made Juvia look at him in awe. The fact he would give up on having children, for his partner’s sake. Whoever that will be is going to be one lucky woman.

‘’But first I want to focus on my studies. You know how passionate I’m on becoming an architect’’ 

‘’Damn, who thought that the Gray Fullbuster, one of the most popular boys in school, was softer than a teddy bear. I guarantee you there are plenty of volunteers in your fan club’’ May or may not include myself but I will take that to my grave. 

‘’Oh shut it, Lockser’’ He gave her a light smack on her arm. ‘’You better not tell a soul, especially fire-breath cause otherwise he will make fun of me until the day I die and that will be on you’’

‘’Yes, don’t worry, these lips are sealed. Even though that would be hilari- Ow!’’ She got cut off by receiving another slap on her arm. 

___

Juvia grabbed her phone from the nightstand to look at the time.

3:38

‘’Fuck this shit’’ She cursed and didn’t waste another second in bed and swiftly got up. She removed her pyjamas and changed into sportswear. Maybe a way-too-early-in-the-morning run would help her get some sleep.  

Spoiler alert: It did not help. 

___

Entering the break room, Juvia was greeted by one of her colleagues. Someone she knew very well. 

‘’Good morning, Juvia!’’ It was Levy McGarden.

Levy was another old friend of hers. She was exceptionally intelligent, definitely the most intelligent person Juvia knew and found it slightly strange she hadn’t chosen a different career instead in early childhood education. She always imagined Levy being a scientist, a researcher or even a librarian since she was a bookworm. Saying she loved books was an understatement. It was an (healthy) obsession. Juvia remembered one year when they still were in high school, over the summer Levy had read nearly fifty books. Fifty! Voluntarily! 

Despite everything, if working with children was something Levy was passionate about and it brought her joy, Juvia was happy for her and she was more than happy to have her as a colleague. 

‘’Morning’’ 

‘’Oh dear, you look, uh…’’ Levy was struggling to find the right word upon seeing Juvia’s drowsy state with big dark circles under her eyes. 

‘’Like death?’’ Juvia finished the sentence for her. ‘’I know. I didn’t get a blink of sleep last night but nothing a cup or two of coffee can’t fix.’’ Or a mega pint. 

‘’Not the word I would have chosen but close enough’’  

To be honest, speaking with Levy made Juvia uncomfortable. Not because Levy was making her uncomfortable but because Juvia felt guilty. Not only had she most likely hurt Gray but she also hurt all of her friends back then and Juvia still couldn’t bring to forgive herself. 

‘’Levy’’ 

‘’Yeah?’’

‘’I’m aware that you guys let me know everything is okay between us but I’m really sorry for hurting you and I hope you’ll still accept me as your friend’’ Tears were forming in the corner of her eyes. It was only her second day at work and yet she was having a meltdown, really?

‘’Juvia…’’ Levy stood up from where she was sitting and rushed to Juvia to hug her. ‘’Of course I still want to be friends’’’

‘’Are you sure?’’ 

‘’Yes, Juvia’’ Levy reassured her and let go of the embrace to meet her eyes. ‘’I promise’’ 

‘’Thank you so much’’ Juvia wiped away the tears that had fallen down her cheek.

‘’I need to go to work now but I’ll see you later, okay?’’ 

‘’Okay.’’ 

Levy gave her a last smile until she wasn’t in sight. 

Now Juvia really needs that mega pint. 

___

It was now eight o’clock and time for Juvia to start work. When she entered the corridor at her department, Gray stood by the door waving his hand while saying bye to Aster.  

Yesterday Juvia was going to inform Gray of Aster’s day, including the situation at nap time where Aster had brought up the nightmares that have been occurring. Unfortunately she had already finished work before he arrived for pick up. Hopefully Meredy had forwarded the message.  

The good news is that after Aster woke up from his nap, he said that he slept well and without any nightmares. As Juvia was in a crouching position to see and hear him better, he wrapped his arms around her in a hug which surprised her. Nonetheless she hugged him back gently to not crush his tiny body. He was adorable. 

When Gray noticed Juvia, he had a big smile plastered to his face. Juvia knew it was genuine but she could feel that behind his smile, there was hut. He shouldn’t be smiling at her like that, she didn't. She didn’t deserve his perfect smile, she didn’t deserve his hugs, she didn't deserve his kindness. Nothing. 

‘’Juvia, good morning’’ 

‘’Good morning, Gray’’ She gave him a smile back, trying her best to hide her anxiety that was building up inside her. And the guild.  

‘’So, Meredy told me what happened at nap time yesterday and I just wanted to thank you personally, for helping Aster. He slept like a baby last night too’’ 

Stop it, Gray. Stop being so nice to me. 

‘’Gray, you know you don’t have to thank me. I’m just doing my job but I’m really happy to hear that I could be of help. And if there’s anything else I can help with, please don’t hesitate to ask’’ Juvia managed both to keep eye contact with him and also not stutter. She was anxious as hell but she needed to stay professional no matter how difficult it was. 

‘’Well actually…Never mind. I’ll see you later, Juvia’’ He gave her a small wave before Juvia was the only one in the corridor. 

‘’See you later’’ Juvia wondered what he was about to say but shrugged it off. It was probably nothing important.

Or was it?

___

Stay tuned! ♡

♡TAGLIST♡

@eme-eleff @jetblackrevival @be-dazzled @azuchifairy @greenapplegrass @fbflame94 @gruviaftw11 @pinkbtr @shampooneko @anaviarts @juvsbby @fortheloversofbooks

#juvia lockser #gray fullbuster #gray x juvia #ray fullbuster x juvia lockser #gruvia #fairy tail #ft #fairy tail 100 years quest #gruvia fanfiction #faity tail fanfiction #daycare love #daycare love fanfiction #unvalley fanfiction #AU

[hb-writes]

Echoes

Summary: It’s 1926 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. There were a few places in Birmingham where Clara Shelby swore her brother’s soul seemed somehow closer—his voice, too, but maybe it was just an echo of him.

Request (from @cas-kingdom): “What do you need?” “You.” would be totally adorable for John & Clara. Congrats on 4 years of LLB!!

(Note: there will be a second story released at a later date based on this same prompt because both ideas bit me and I couldn’t let go.)

Characters: John Shelby and Clara Shelby

Content Warnings: grief, canon character death, it's missing John hours, blaming any typos on the fact that I still can’t see well. 

Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

—

John Shelby didn't have a burial site. There was no place to visit him, not properly. They’d said their goodbyes in a field with a burning caravan, the memory of it marred by strategies and murder. The occasion hadn’t been healing. It hadn’t helped Clara to process things.

Clara had started to wonder if you ever really said goodbye to loved ones when they passed anyway. It seemed to Clara that her mind could conjure up anyone she’d loved and lost in her mind without really trying, or some version of them, at least—her own version of them, she supposed. The idealized, imagined versions of her mother and Grace and Isiah’s grandmother speaking to her when she least expected.

She figured it was the same way with John, but there were a few places in Birmingham where Clara Shelby swore her brother’s soul seemed somehow closer—his voice, too. It didn’t feel like conjuring. It didn’t feel like her mind was playing tricks. It felt like John was truly there, and even if it was only an echo of him, Clara found herself seeking out those places, seeking out the brother who’d gone from her life without a smidgen of closure. 

Clara would never tell another person—not Aunt Polly or Finn or Ada, and especially not Tommy—but she spoke to John all the while. And if it didn’t make her feel crazy to speak it aloud, Clara would’ve sworn she could nearly hear John speaking back to her sometimes.

She heard him whenever she stood within the walls of his empty little house on Watery Lane, the one he never made it back to when the rest of the Shelbys descended on Small Heath for protection from the black hands. 

Clara heard John in the family’s private snug at the Garrison. 

And in the betting shop.

She heard him and saw him and felt him there with her when she was alone in those places.

Most times, Clara liked it—hearing John's voice, feeling his presence, imagining him leaning up against one of the shop’s wooden beams as she spoke to him. But other times, Clara felt a prickle running over her skin. There was something different in the air sometimes, an unease that usually lasted for longer than the voices and sensations of closeness. It made her start to question what was real and what was fake, but most of all, hearing John’s voice—whether it was in her head or not—made Clara miss her brother.

That was a burden Clara carried in silence. No one really talked about John or Esme or the kids anymore. It seemed to Clara that everyone had moved on as if they’d never existed, but there was a hole in the family now, something that had left a jagged edge in the fabric of their lives—in Clara's life and she filled it now in the only way she knew how.

The betting shop was empty, closed up with delicate streams of early morning light coming through the dusty windows that opened onto the back courtyard. The office that had once belonged to John was now occupied by one of the cousins, but to Clara, it was still John’s space.

Clara knew John wouldn't even be there if he were alive now—he hadn't been involved in the business for years now, but she couldn't help but think how nice it would be for him to be here now. How nice it would be to wake up early and see her brother here, to be able to ask him for advice with the books or to help him with writing up the odds while he stood there critiquing her handwriting…to simply be in the same place with John for a few more moments. That's all she wanted.

Clara's breath shook, a chill running up her spine as she stepped into the office.

What do you need?

Clara didn't know if the words she heard were a memory or a hallucination, but whatever they were, they felt real as the echoed in her ears. It felt like John was there. Speaking to her. Comforting her. Clara closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before answering. 

"You," Clara whispered as she stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her. "I just wanted to be with you."

—

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #john shelby #john shelby fanfic #shelby sister #shelby!sister #little lady blinder #clara shelby #raise a glass to llb

[flyiingsly]

Remember me

Square : Music

Pairing : Hunter x gn!jedi!reader

Warnings : mention of alcohol, mention of Order 66 and memories from the Clone Wars, a bit of angst but mostly fluff i guess, half confession, these two idiots are in love but not ready to say it out loud

Wordcount : 5,1k

Summary : When Hunter unexpectedly heard you sing for the first time, he instantly fell in love with your voice, and even more with you.

A/N : Here we are, my fourth submission for the @clonexreaderbingo ! This fic is one of my favorites among those that I wrote for the CFB honestly, because I really love the songs that have inspired it, and because, I don't know, that prompt suited Hunter very well in my opinion, and I'm really happy with how it turned out :D

Disclaimer : I'm still struggling to understand English grammar properly, English is not my native language and even if I have proofread my writtings several times, there is probably still typos in it. I'm very self conscious about it and I apologize for it in advance, but I'm doing my best to do better and I'm actively working at improving my writting skills !

So if you spot a typo, feel free to point it to me so I can correct it, it will be much appreciated :)

Before you start to read, go check the two songs that are featured in this fic :

(This one is one of my favorites feel good songs EVER ! THAT VIBE IS AWESOME OMG !!!)

(And this one is a cover of "Remember Me" from Coco by the wonderful Annapantsu, this song is haunting and beautiful, and I particularly love her version, she is sooooo talented !! Go check her channel, really, it's all gold !)

***

Today was supplying day for the Marauder crew. You and the Batch has just returned at Ord Mantell after your last mission for Cid. She paid you the credits she owed you, so it was time for some groceries and equipment shopping.

As usual, you split into two teams : the one going in town for groceries, and the one staying at the ship to tidy and clean the interior space.

It was a tradition inherited from the time of the Republic : every Clone battalion had to go for a cleansing day every now and then to keep their barracks organized and fit to live in. To be honest, it wasn’t really part of the Clone Force 99 habits to maintain their room on Kamino. In fact, it was mostly your idea to establish a cleansing day. Of course, Echo had already tried to force the idea on them long before you became part of the team, but they weren’t enthusiastic about it, so he just ended giving up.

But since Omega and you have joined them, they have finally realized that it was much needed, to keep the place they were living in in a somewhat decent state. And this time, it was to the two of you to fulfill that mission.

***

“Tech, are you sure we haven’t forgot anything ?” Echo asks his brother, who was scrolling on his datapad to check if all the items from the groceries list are crossed.

“Affirmative”, he answers, “we have everything we need to eat and to keep the Marauder flying for at least ten more rotations !”

“Good, let’s go back home then.”

As they approached the ship, Hunter started to hear some distant melody. More than just music playing, he heard some familiar voices that made his ears twitch.

“Did you hear that too ?” he asked his brothers.

“Yes, I did, pretty clearly” Tech answered, “Me too” Wrecker added.

“Seems like (y/n) and Omega are having a little fun while we’re working” Echo said jokingly with a smile.

The voices and the rhythm became more distinct as they entered.

“ … I'll make you happy, baby, just wait and see

For every kiss you give me, I'll give you three …”

You didn’t hear the boys coming, as the music was a bit loud, and you were totally carried away in the heat of the moment. They noticed that everything that was usually settled on the floor had been lifted on the furniture, and that the said floor was still wet on some spots.

“ … Oh, since the day I saw you

I have been waiting for you

You know I will adore you 'til eternity …”

When they finally caught a glimpse of you, they found themselves in front of a pretty unique and unexpected spectacle.

“ … So won't you, please (be my, be my baby)

Be my little baby? (my one and only baby) …”

Here you were, the handle of the mop in one hand, using it as a microphone, facing Omega who had a sponge squished in hers for the same purpose, both dancing in rhythm and singing passionately in unison. The floor was in the middle of being mopped, but everything else was as clean as it could be.

“ … Say you'll be my darlin' (be my, be my baby)

Be my baby now (my one and only baby)

Whoa-oh-oh-oh …”

They did their best not to interrupt you and stay discreet and quiet, but to be fair, it didn’t take them too much effort, for you were so absorbed that nothing could have disturbed you right now.

When the song ended, the two of you were happier as ever and giggling.

“Heyyyy, great job, you’ve nailed it girl !” you exclaimed at Omega, high fiving her.

The young girl’s eyes were sparkling with joy, she loved those shared moments with you.

But suddenly, you felt that something was off, and you stopped laughing, freezing at the realization that you weren’t alone anymore. When Omega noticed it, she turned her head toward the entrance of the room and smiled even more widely at the sight of her brothers.

“Hey !! Guys !! Have you heard us ? What do you think ? Isn’t (y/n) a great singer ?”

You weren’t even able to face them as you were horribly embarrassed. Your cheeks were burning red, and your only reflex was to facepalm yourself to try to hide it.

“That was awesome !!” a very enthusiastic Wrecker shouted out.

“That was great, indeed !”

“Yeah” Hunter spoke with a gentle smile. You could feel his gaze on you, making you blush even more, “that was impressive, both of you”.

“Thanks !!!” Omega was so proud, it was adorable.

“Don’t be so shy (y/n), look, they found it great !!”

You smiled at her words, moving your hand slightly from your eyes to look at her.

“Is that true ?” you teased, a smug smile on your lips.

“Of course !”

“Yes, your voices matched that song pretty greatly, well done !”

Wrecker and Tech immediately answered with encouraging smiles.

Then your eyes met Hunters. You could swear he was blushing too. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut by a grinning Echo.

“Yeah, why are you so shy ? Of course you’re a great singer, have you forgotten all the applause you used to get back in the day ?”

“Seriously, Echo ?” you grumbled, looking deadpan at him.

“Seriously, you should be proud of that voice, even if it’s even better when you’re playing while singing.”

“What are you talking bout ?” Wrecker asked, confused.

“Don’t you dare !” you warned him, pointing a finger at his direction.

“Ho, she never told you ?” his mischievous grin turned into a soft smile, “(y/n) used to carry her guitar wherever she went, especially on our days off. Sometimes we had the chance to get a private concert in the barracks, sometimes she would carry it with her to the 79”. Every time she started to play, everyone stopped talking to listen to her, and most of the time, we all ended singing along.”

You let out a deep sigh.

“Really ?” The giant’s eyes were now looking at you with fascination.

“You never told us that you knew how to play guitar !” Hunter said with surprise.

“That’s because it was very long ago, I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to play again … Plus, I didn’t get any more music instrument at hand anymore, I didn’t get the chance to bring it with me when …”

You stopped, frowning slightly, your eyes got lost in the vague for a few seconds before you could get your composure again. When you raised your head, you noticed that Hunter seemed moved by your words.

“Anyway,” you let out, trying your best to hide your troubles, “maybe someday I’ll get the chance to show you, but for now, karaoke will do, and we have some mopping to finish !”

You winked at the young girl, who immediately chuckled in response.

“Go on, you’ll take the cockpit, I take the back space, last one to finish will paid mantel mix to the other !”

Omega giggled and grabbed one of the mops “Good luck then !” she burst before heading for the said cockpit.

As the boy’s attention went on the groceries organizing, Echo didn’t move and stood still besides you. You looked at each other for a moment, before he lowered his head with a sad look.

“I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to embarrass you, let alone make you sad by bringing back old memories … I just wanted to tease you as we always do, you know, I thought it could be funny … I’m sorry, it was a stupid move …”

You got closer to him, and put your hand on his shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just that … I wasn’t expecting that, I was taken aback, that’s all, but that’s okay, really !”

“I’m sorry” he repeated, sighing heavily, trying to avoid your eyes, “But to be honest, I miss those times … I miss those special little moments with everyone, when you were singing us some song in the barracks, you know ? Every time we were listening to you, all of our worries seemed to suddenly vanish, it was incredible, and I miss hat, I miss all of them …”

As he spoke, tears were starting to form in his eyes. It broke your heart to see him like that. You and him have gone through so much during the war. You were particularly close to each other, everyone in the Batch knew it from the many stories Echo had told them about you. You were here when they rescued him from the Citadel, and you were here when he decided to stay with them, you had been by his side for so long. You knew each other so well, you knew he didn’t means to hurt you by saying all if this.

“I know”, you whispered back, “But it’s okay, I’m not mad at you, I know you can be a little tease sometimes, but don’t worry, really.” You did your best to cheer him up, he smiled back, but the tears were still here.

“You know … I miss them too …” you finally confess, “And I miss those moments too, I think about them every day to be honest …”

Tears were rolling down his cheeks now. Echo had always done his best to stay strong in front of the others, and he was pretty good at hiding his feelings. But with you, it was different. Of course, he trusted the rest of the batch, but he trusted you on another level. You had so much in common, you had shared and lived through so much things together, you were so close that you were the only person he was able to share absolutely everything with.

The only answer you could give him was to wrap your arms around his neck and pulling him close in a reassuring embrace. You stayed like that for a moment, sharing each other pain until it soothes, comforting each other as you’ve always did.

Even if you were apart from the others, in the corner of the room where no one could have caught a glimpse of what you were saying, Hunter was still able to understand what was happening.

He knew you were both missing your late brothers in arms, and it often broke his heart to see you so devastated. But this time, a crazy little idea crossed his mind, and he decided to take charge of bringing back some of your lost happiness.

***

After the next mission, it was supposed to be Hunter and Tech turn to do the cleaning on the Marauder while the rest of the crew was going on a supplying trip. Hunter wasn’t usually very prone to cleaning and tidying. He was the kind of man who didn’t really bothered to live surrounded by dust and dirt, but he was doing his best to show willingness on this duty anyway, thanks to you. Even if it was still making him grumpy, he couldn’t deny that living in a clean space was more comfortable, especially since Omega was here. Since the two of you were here, he seemed to acknowledge and mind a lot of things he wasn’t caring about before.

But today he had something else on his mind. As soon as you came back to the ship from shopping, he jumped from his sit and headed toward the door, claiming to have a personal business to settle. You didn’t even get the chance to ask him about the level of cleanliness of the ship that he was already gone, leaving the squad in shared confusion. So you asked Tech instead, trying to understand what was going on with Hunter at the same time. The only explanation you got was that he seemed very impatient to go at the local market too, and that he was impressively motivated and fast to do his chores, which was very convenient for his partner, since he wasn’t very inclined to fulfill them neither.

So you just rolled with it. After all, even if it was intriguing, everyone had the right to some alone time once in a while.

When he came back, you weren’t sure what to think about him. You could swear that he was more joyful than when he had left the ship previously. In fact, everyone had noticed it, and Wrecker didn’t miss the occasion to tease him about it. You were able to catch a weird and suspect eye contact between him and Echo, telling you that they were probably up to something. But you just decided to let it go, trying your best not to wonder about what it could have been. You had the feeling that you’ll discover what it was all about soon enough.

As the day passed by, every task that needed to be done on board were completed. The Marauder was cleaner as ever, all the provisions racks were full, and you had enough ammunitions to take down an entire droid’s battalion. Now all that was left to do was to rest and take some good time until you were assigned to your next mission.

You were sitting on your bunk, putting your blaster back together after cleaning it piece by piece, the ship was peaceful as everyone was busy doing their own things, when Echo and Hunter came back from outside of the ship.

“If I may point out” Echo spoke, “Cid didn’t reach for us yet, which mean that we, at least, have tonight to take some time to relax and do whatever we want to.”

“Does that mean that you had something in mind?” Tech asked, not even raising his head from his datapad.

“To be honest, it had been some times since we hadn’t shared a drink, and I think that it could be a good idea to go out at Cid’s bar and have a chill evening, don’t you think ?”

“I knew it !” Tech finally looked at him, smiling “That’s indeed a very good idea !”

“I’m in !” Wrecker beamed. Of course he was.

“Me too !” You answered enthusiastically.

“Yes ! Wrecker, will you play dejarik with me ?” Omega asked her brother excitedly, who immediately started to complain jokingly about how she was always winning and that he had no chance to beat her anyway.

“Perfect then !” Echo concluded.

Hunter didn’t say anything, but you knew he was always in for a drink or more. You saw him smile with satisfaction at your answers, but most of all, you caught another meaningful look between him and Echo. Something had to happen tonight for sure.

***

The bar was a bit crowded as usual. You were looking at Omega playing dejarik with some Ithorian from afar. Wrecker had tried it for a couple games, but ended giving up after losing every times as he expected. It made you smile to see her so happy like that. And it was good to relax a bit before the next mission, it was well deserved for everyone. Wrecker and Tech were now passionately debating about some weapons efficiency while Echo was looking at them amusingly. You had started to feel a bit dizzy from the alcohol, and now a very pleasurable feeling of lightness and peacefulness was taking over you.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice Hunter when he came to sit next to you at first. He looked at you for a moment, admiring you intensely before engaging the conversation.

“She’s really talented, I’ve never seen anyone won as much games in a row …”

“Yeah, she is. She’s really gifted” you answered, smiling proudly. “It reassures me to see that she can still be happy despite what she’s gone through”.

“I know you’re worried about her, I am too … I’m still figuring out how to take care of a child to be honest, and sometimes I just feel a bit lost, but I guess that I’m doing my best … We’re not prepared for that as soldiers, it’s not part of the training …”

The tone of his voice was sadder, and when you detach your eyes from Omega to look at him, you could read doubt on his face.

“I think you’re doing great, really. The four of you, you are wonderful brothers to her. I know it can be scary and unsettling sometimes, having to protect and care for another being through this world … It’s a heavy burden for sure … But trust me, you are doing great, and I mean it.”

“Thank you” he answered softly, a wide smile appearing on his face.

What you had just told him was really touching and reassuring him. He knew you had to take care of the younglings sometimes, back at the Jedi temple, and that you had been on a lot of battlefields with young padawans, unfortunately forced to witness more of their suffering that you could have possibly imagined … You never got the chance to have your own padawan to train before it all ended, but you knew very well what it meant to care for a child so young and vulnerable, even if they were supposed to be trained for fighting.

“To be honest, it wouldn’t be the same without you. You’re helping us a lot, with everything ... And … you mean a lot to Omega, she’s really attached to you, Echo is really attached to you, we all are really attached to you … I’m not sure if I have told you this before but … I’m glad you joined us … You really are part of the squad now … Really part of our family … And, yeah … It wouldn’t be the same without you …” he slowly added, in a more shy and hesitant tone.

It was hard for him to let all of that out. He was stumbling over his words, he wasn’t used to express his feelings, and you had a very strong presentiment that he wanted to add more, that he had something heavier on his mind to confess to you, but he seemed unable to. 

Your cheeks started to get warm and blushing, but you couldn’t break the eyes contact. It was way too intense and too mesmerizing, you could have drowned in his eyes at that moment.

You opened your mouth to answer something, but you couldn’t find your words. You desperately wanted to tell him how being part of that family was one of the best things that had ever happened to you, and that finding them had given your life a whole new start and a reason to keep fighting after losing everything that you had. But you couldn’t, you were so moved that you couldn’t even answer.

“I have something for you” he suddenly let out, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What ? For me ? Why ?” you answer with surprise, still shacked by his words.

“Because I found something that I think you’ll like, and I wanted to give you a surprise … It’s inside the ship, would you mind following me ?” He had already stood up from his seat, inviting you to follow him with a tilt of his head.

“Of course, yes” you stood up too “I’m sorry, I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“Yeah, that’s the point of a surprise !” He chuckled at your confusion.

His smile was heartwarming, and you were so focused on it when you left the bar that you didn’t notice Echo watching you from the corner of his eye, a satisfied grin on his face.

***

When you enter the Marauder, Hunter made you sit on his bunk before heading toward the entrance again. He was nervous, it was the first time that you were alone together aboard the ship, and neither of you were use to its strange quietness.

“Close your eyes, I’ll come back, it won’t be long, don’t open them before I tell you so.”

“Yes sir !” you exclaimed, curiosity taking over you.

You heard his footsteps going down the metallic ramp. You were even more confused, where the hell was he able to hide something on the outside of the ship ?

When he came back on board again, your heart started to pound with impatience, beating faster with each of his footsteps. When he stopped in front of you, he stayed silent for a few seconds that seemed like eternity.

“You can open your eyes now …”

You immediately gasp at the sight of what was in front of you : carefully held between Hunter’s hands was a beautiful vintage guitar, old but still in good condition.

“Oh Maker !” you let out, “How did you manage to find that ?”

“Here, on Ord Mantell, at the local market. Remember that weird looking antique store right in front of the Mantell Mix stand ? They sell all kind of interesting stuff there, including old music instruments. It’s not much, but I thought you’ll be happy to be able to play again … “

“It’s absolutely perfect … Thank you so much Hunter … I … I can’t express how much it means to me ” your voice was now trembling with excitement and your eyes were sparkling with happiness,  “Can I … Can I try it ?”

“Of course, it’s all yours !”

You carefully took the guitar and put it on your lap while Hunter sat next to you on the bunk, examining it from every angle.

“That’s incredible, it’s nearly the same as the one I had back then …”

“Well, that’s because Echo helped me to choose it. He told me that yours was a particular design that Senator Amidala brought you back from one of her diplomatic missions. Guess I got lucky on this one …”

“I knew it !” you burst, “I knew that there was something going on, those eyes contacts were obviously hiding something ! But I must admit, I would have never suspected that … You two really are the bests !”

He was the happiest man right now, knowing that his gift was making you happy, on top of the fact that he was finally able to spend some time with you.

You give him a fond smile and before starting to pull the strings one after the other to tune them. As you were playing some random notes, Hunter’s attention turned to your hands, looking eagerly at your fingers dancing along the neck. Then the notes became chords, and you repeated these chords again, and again, like if you were trying to start something bigger. Like a hesitant bird flapping its wings again and again until it can finally remember how to fly, you wanted your hands to remember the right movements.

He couldn’t get his eyes off of your fingers. He was so focused, so mesmerized by the recovering of their dexterity that he didn’t notice the long breath you took before your lips parted.

“Remember me …”

The sound of your voice made his heart skip a beat. You had no idea how many times he had wished to hear it again …

“ … For I have to say goodbye, remember me …”

His head raised from your fingers to your face, his eyes sparkling with awe, admiring your features in silence.

“ … Don’t let it make you make you cry …”

Goosebumps run all over his skin, sending shivers across his entire body.

“ … For even if I'm far away, I hold you in my heart,

“I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart …”

As you were singing, you felt tears slowly brimming to your eyes and a lump invading your throat. Your voice started to tremble, and it took you a lot of energy to prevent it from breaking.

“ … Remember me,

Though I have to travel far …”

You closed your eyes, your mind aching from the sudden burst of old and painful memories coming from the depth of your brain. Your hands knew the movements so well that even without your eyes looking at the strings, the music went on flawlessly.

“ … Remember me,

Each time you hear a sad guitar …”

You used to sing that song to ease the minds of your fellow clone soldiers when the horrors of war were becoming too heavy to carry. It was a way to commemorate those who had fallen on the battlefield, a way to pay them tribute and to show that, even thought they were gone, you weren’t forgetting about them and their sacrifice.

You had learned it at the time you were fighting along the 501st, and you had played it a lot because it was often requested to you. It meant so much to you back in the day, and it was even more now, after everything that happened at the end of the war.

“ … Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be,

Until you're in my arms again …”

Tears were now rolling down your cheeks, but you weren’t paying any attention to them, for you were too focused on keeping your voice straight, only willing to honor your memories by finishing the song properly. Your emotion was contagious, and soon, Hunter’s eyes were watery as well.

“… Remember me …”

You sighed heavily as you played the last notes, then let your head fell on top of the guitar, wrapping your arms tightly around the instrument, like if you were hugging every one of those you were missing. You stayed like that for a moment, in complete silence, lost in your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel sad with that gift … It seemed that music was something you were very fond of before, and I was just thinking that maybe, it could be comforting for you to have a chance play again …”

Hunter’s voice was full of concern. You were probably looking like a mess right now you thought, but you still find the courage to raise your head and look at him, giving him a weak but sincere smile.

“No, I’m fine, don’t worry … It’s just that … It’s hard to face those memories again sometimes, even the good ones, you know …. But I’m glad to still have them, this is all I have left of it, after all …”

You sighed again, looking at the guitar and brushing its surface with the tips of you fingers like if it was the most precious thing in the galaxy.

“Thank you so much, Hunter, that’s the best thing that you could have offered to me, really …”

“I have to admit …” he started to answer, hesitant, before going on, “it was a bit of a very selfish move … The truth is … I was craving to hear your voice again, and this …” he pointed at the guitar with a nod, “it was the perfect opportunity … I couldn’t help myself but, at least, try … I have just no words to describe what I’ve felt the other day when I heard you sing, it was just … Breathtaking honestly … ”

The way he was looking at you while speaking was so intense that it made your cheeks start to blush. It has been a long time since someone had looked at you that way, and it was totally taking you aback. You chuckled at his revelations, it was adorable, and rather flattering.

“Well, that’s a very smart move honestly !” you chuckled, “Thank you again, it’s been so long since I’ve sing for someone who enjoyed it … I think I needed that …”

The more he was looking at you, the more beautiful you were to him, and the more he was craving to touch your face and to kiss your lips. But at the same time, he wanted to comfort you and to make you feel safe, for seeing you cry and struggle with memories was heartbreaking to him.

Gathering his courage, he slowly raised his arm to wrap it around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him until your two bodies were pressed against each other, before moving his hand to your head and to gently stroke your hair.

You closed your eyes, settling your head on his shoulder, allowing your body to relax against his. His gestures were so soft and comforting, that soon, your mind felt at ease again, completely focusing on that touch you had wished to feel on your skin for so long. It was perfect, and you let yourself being submerged by that pleasant feeling.

As he was resting his head upon yours, Hunter realized that it still wasn’t the right moment to confess about his feelings for you like he had planned too. But it wasn’t bothering him, for that moment shared with you was a very special and meaningful one, and he had the feeling that it was another step into solidifying his already strong bond with you. One step at the time, he thought, maybe the next time will be the right, but for now, he wanted to enjoy the precious embrace.

“So …”, you let out after a moment, a sly smile appearing on your lips, “would you like to hear another one ?”

“Yes, please,” he breathed out, “with pleasure …”

And that’s how you both spent the rest of your night sat on his bunk, singing and playing various songs to him, giving him the best improvised private concert of his life.

You were still at it when the rest of the batch came back from the bar, and they all instantly gathered around the bunk to listen to you. You could swear that you caught a tear rolling over Echo’s cheek. Even if he was trying his best to keep his composure, you knew that it was giving him as much as emotions as you when you met the proud and nostalgic glance he was giving you.

Omega and Wrecker’s eyes were sparkling with fascination as they carefully listened to you, and Tech was stuck in awe too, eyes riveted to the confident movements of your fingers.

That night turned out to be a blessing that you fondly enjoyed, and for once in a long time, you felt completely and perfectly at your place, surrounded by people that you were now considering as your family, and hopping that one day, you’ll finally be courageous enough to tell their lovely sergeant how badly head over heels you were for him.

#cfb2023 #vi writing #sergeant hunter #hunter x reader #tbb hunter #the bad batch #hunter #star wars

[munsonsduchess]

Hellion

summary: you and eddie take a trip to the movies, then to the chief’s office w/c: 1,143 warnings: mentions of horror movies, mentions of sex, smoking a/n: the first of my sleepover requests! this one is short and written on my phone so there are probably a million and one typos and mistakes so if you see one … say nothing and drink to forget.

(Moodboard by me)

You were sat in the office of the Hawkin’s Chief of Police. Jim Hopper held a light cigarette between two fingers as he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand,

“So let me get this straight. You guys were going to a movie – “

“Coming back!” Eddie said quickly, “coming back from a movie. Hellraiser in Starcourt”

“You we’re coming back from the movie and your girl here spilled soda on her shirt”

“Yup that’s right” Eddie nodded quickly, looking like a bobble headed version of himself. 

“So you … took her shirt off” Hopper continued 

“I took my own shirt off. Because it was covered in soda” you were the one to interrupt this time, to clarify 

“You took your shirt off to what? Drive home?” 

“I had a spare shirt in the back of the van. I was changing” you explained 

“You we’re changing when … Tommy Doyle and his mother Lindsey saw you through the back windows of the van” Hopper checked against the notes he’d taken, most of which was illegible even to his own eyes 

“Yup that’s it. They called you I guess because they thought I was doing something else” you shrugged, as though you had no idea what else you could possibly have gotten up to 

Hopper sighed again. These goddamn kids were going to be the death of him. 

He’d gotten the call maybe a half hour ago from a payphone at the mall. Lindsey Doyle was ‘distraught’ at what the Munson kid and his girl had been doing in the back of the van the Munson kid drove. 

The same van that Hop was sure he’d told Munson to drive slower around town. That he would only look the other way for so long when it came to speed,

“So when Lindsey Doyle called me in hysterics telling me that you two were doing ‘unchristian things’ in the back of the van she just got it wrong?”

“Look it’s not my fault that the Doyle kid was peeping. I spilled soda on my shirt and I was just trying to clean up!” you protested, “honest!” 

Hopper looked at the both of you. Sitting there with wide innocent eyes looking like you couldn’t possibly have been getting up to anything nefarious. Well alright if this was how you wanted to play it he’d just let you sweat it out. 

➽───────────────❥

You and Eddie had made it a point to go and see the latest horror movie offering Starcourt had to offer. Neither of you knew mich about the movie except that it was based on a book neither of you had read but it was scaring folks up and down the country so why not go and see it. 

Then the movies villains told you that all they wanted was to seek out ultimate pleasure. Which had gotten Eddie’s mind thinking in overdrive, 

“So baby. Wanna give yourself over to absolute pleasure?” he’d grinned, his face buried in your neck

“Eddie. Not in public!” you laughed, thinking nothing of his affectionate grip on your waist. Eddie was always a physical person and nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. 

Then you’d gotten back to his van and one thing led to another and before you knew it the chief of police was knocking on the back of the van and asking you both to step outside where he could see you. 

Which was how you both found yourself sitting in his office lying through your teeth. Eddie it seemed didn’t much care that he was lying to the chief of police and instead simply wanted to get back to what you’d both been doing before,

“I think he’s buying it baby” he grinned at you. His eyes dark and michevious,

“Don’t you dare give me those sex eyes right now! This is a serious situation, here!” you swatted him on the chest, “the chief is gonna call my parents and your uncle and we’re gonna get killed!” 

“Relax baby you worry too much”

“Sometimes I think you don’t worry enough!” 

“If this doesn’t work out then I promise I will start to worry about stuff more” Eddie promised. Placing a kiss on your wrist, 

“Don’t think you just kiss me and turn on that Eddie Munson charm and everything will be ok” 

“Baby I would never!” Eddie placed a hand against his heart and feigned shock

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. This whole thing was ridiculous. Stupid Tommy Doyle just had to tell his mom he’d seen you without a shirt on and she’d flown into a full PTA crisis. Called the chief instead of just ignoring things that were none of her business. 

➽───────────────❥

Jim finished his second cigarette and stubbed it out on the heel of his boot. He knew those kids were lying to him but then he didn’t have any evidence of what they were actually doing so it wasn’t as if he could lock them up even just to scare them straight. 

He’d tell Lindsey Doyle the yarn the kids were spinning him and just hope that it would be enough to placate her. Maybe throw around that her kid shouldn’t be staring into folks' cars when they were minding their own business. 

Sighing again he adjusted his belt and uniform pants and entered the precinct ,

“Alright here’s how it’s gonna go. You two are gonna go home, you’re gonna keep your clothes on and I’m gonna forget this happened” 

“Really, Chief we weren’t doing anything!” Eddie began to speak but quickly stopped when he felt your elbow in his ribs,

“I’m gonna tell Lindsey Doyle what you told me. Whether or not she wants to take this up with your folks is up to her. Just don’t let me catch you two doing something you shouldn’t again” 

“We won’t Chief. Promise” you stood up quickly and grabbed Eddie’s arm pulling him out with you towards the van. 

You waited for him to unlock the passenger side door before climbing in. Eddie climbing in the drivers side just after you, 

“See babe. What’d I tell you? Everything worked out just fine” 

➽───────────────❥

As it turned out everything did not work out just fine. Lindsey Doyle had already gone to your parents who were not happy with what she was telling them and neither was Eddie’s Uncle Wayne. 

Between your parents and Wayne it was decided that you and Eddie would help out with the next six PTA events at the elementary school as a way of apologising for ‘scarring’ Tomm at such a young age. 

You promised yourself then and there that the next time you watched a movie with Eddie it would be on the couch in his trailer. 

Where you couldn’t get into trouble because someone couldn’t keep his hands to himself. 

Taglist: @pillow-titties @eddiesmutson @eddiemvnsonss @prettyboyeddiemunson @xbreezymeadowsx @slytherinintj13 @ches-86 @boomhauer @hoppershoe @hellfireeddiemunson @that-lame-ghoul9000 @shenanigans-and-imagines @lucciaa9 @wheaty-melon @flashyourgreeneyesatme if you're stricken out it means that tumblr won't let me tag you properly

If you'd like to be added to the tag list please let me know!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #duchess writes #duchess.txt

[with-love-from-hell]

5 Sides of Human

{Part Twenty-Three}

Genre: Mixed

WC: ~3.7k

CW: skin picking/scratching, anxiety/panic attacks, mentions of blood, mentions of death, Barbatos being aggressive lol, Illusion to past trauma, swearing, Storm has a stutter but I am not depicting it with written word consistently, prolly lots of typos lol, spoilers for season 1&2, I'm skipping over/changing some things I didn't like in the main story so it will be a bit different from canon!

Series Masterlist

©️ artwork commissioned by @vivi8bit ©️  

“I don’t understand, why is a stupid record bein’ broken such a big deal?” Mammon crossed his arms. “Beel’s just cursed or somethin’ right? So just reverse it. No biggie for someone like you, Lucifer.” 

It didn’t take long for most everyone to begin sobering up once Lucifer began to exhibit signs of panic. While some thought it was just because he cherished his precious records, others were a bit more concerned. The usual stoicism of the eldest brother faltering was not something often seen, and Storm especially began to grow deeply concerned by what this meant. 

“It’s not just the siren song that was on this record.” Lucifer sighed, nervously picking at pieces of vinyl. “It contained numerous dangerous songs. One of those songs was the Hymn of the Reaper.”

Solomon and Barbatos gasped in sync, catching everyone’s attention. 

Storm swallowed, fear welling in her stomach. “W-what’s the Hymn of the Reaper?” 

“It’s a song from the opera of the same name. It’s performed at the climax of the story.” Solomon gave a deep, concerned sigh. “The protagonist is a young man who is killed by the reaper in the last scene. That’s when the reaper sings this song, blowing out the candle upon which the man’s soul burns. 

“This is the record I obtained for you in exchange for some rare demonus several years ago, yes?” Barbatos nervously glanced toward the pieces in Lucifer’s hands, already knowing the answer. 

“Indeed.” Lucifer sighed. “The version from the year 1818.” 

“That’s the performance that was so ghastly that it’s rumored they were actually channeling the spirit of a reaper, right?” Solomon shook his head, his eyes widening in panic. “This isn’t good at all...” 

Storm shuddered as a chill went up her spine. Looking to the other humans for support. The only other sober human was Vivi, who shrugged in uncertainty as she caught her gaze.  

“So, what does this mean exactly?” Diavolo sighed, rubbing his temples to nurse his impending hangover. 

“It means that Beel may have incurred the wrath of the reaper by breaking the record.” Solomon glanced toward the 6th born, who nervously fidgeted with his fingers. “And there’s a chance that the reaper might decide to extinguished Beel’s soul at any moment.” 

Belphie shook his head, frantically trying to regulate his breath “What! B-but that would mean-” 

“Beel’s soul would be taken by the reaper and he would cease to be.” Lucifer sighed, refusing to make eye contact with the others in the room. His heart pounded with fear, and his skull felt as if it may crack with how terribly his forehead was throbbing. 

The room grew silent for a moment, those were still in their boozed haze before where now snapped back to the harshness of reality. Beel whimpered nervously, not knowing what to make of his situation. 

“T-that can’t be right...” Vivi shook their head, feeling their own panic begin to rise.  “They’ll kill him over a shitty broken record?!” 

“That’s so stupid! And how would the reaper even know that Beel was the one that broke it?!” Fern added, trying to shuffle their way closer to Belphie without being noticed. They stood a few steps in front of him, holding his hand behind their back to ensure no one else saw. 

“I’m afraid I can’t say for sure, but I wouldn’t exactly rule it out.” Barbatos sighed. Everyone glanced at each other nervously, not sure how to take the news that Beel’s life could end at any second. 

“W-what are we going to do?” Storm nearly shouted. She squeezed Beel’s hand tightly, smoothing over his knuckles to try to calm both him and herself down.  “There’s got to be something we can do to fix it...right Lucifer..?”

Lucifer hesitated but glanced up to meet Storm’s panicked expression. His heart dropped to his Stomach as he watched the last bit of hope drain from her eyes, clearly not reassured by his demeanor.

“I’m not sure...” He dropped his eyes back to the record pieces. He smoothed over the vinyl with his thumb, trying his best to remain calm to not further spiral the room into panic.

After a moment of tense silence, Satan cleared his throat. “Well, based on what I’ve read, the reapers are said to live in a cave somewhere in the Devildom, though the entrance is hidden quite well.”

Fern crossed their arms. “Okay, so say we find this place...what exactly are we looking for, then?”

“In the deepest part of the cave is a chamber where row after row of candles are kept. Each one represents someone’s soul- angels, humans, demons...all creatures that reside within the three realms.” Satan began pacing, as if trying to work out the logistics of getting to the cave. “Normally, the reapers monitor these candles. When one of them starts to go out, they know that the person’s death is nigh, and go to harvest their soul.”

“So all we have to do is just get into the reaper’‘s cave and check on Beel’s candle right?” Storm glanced around, her eyes finally landing on Lucifer

“Then...then why don’t we do that?!” Belphie yanked his hand out of Fern’s pushing past them to plead with his older brother. “What the fuck are we just sitting around for then!? Beel’s life is on the line here!”

“Belphie, I’m afraid it’s not that simple.” Lucifer sighed, finally setting the pieces of the record on the credenza behind him. “Amongst all else, I don’t even know where the reaper’s cave is, and-”

“But we can’t just sit and do nothing!” Belphie yelled, now standing toe-to-toe with the eldest. “Don’t you care that Beel could die!?”

“Of course I care!” Lucifer snapped back aggressively, hurt evident in his tone. He and Belphie stared each other down for a moment as everyone watched on in an uncomfortable silence. After a tense minute, Lucifer sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. His voice was now a mere whisper, hiding the tears that threatened to pool in his eyes. “I care more than you know, Belphie.”

Beel whimpered again, trying to ease his discomfort by squeezing Storm’s hand. Before Lucifer and Belphie could argue any more, Solomon chimed in cheerily.

“Oh, I know the location of the reaper’s cave. I can take you there if you’d like.”

Everyone snapped their heads toward Solomon, confused as to how he even had that information. He smiled at Storm, who looked incredibly relieved.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say so earlier!” Vivi snarled, balling their fists tightly. They attempted to take a threatening step toward Solomon, but were stopped by Satan’s outstretched arm.

“Whatever! We just need to go. Now.” Belphie gestured impatiently toward Solomon. “Lets get a move on!”

“Wait.” Beelzebub sheepishly murmured. “I should go alone. This is my problem, I need to fix it.”

“No, I have to go with you. You can’t do it alone.” Belphie linked arms with Beel, refusing to let go.

“You have no idea what you’re up against.” Lucifer sighed. “Everyone else stays put, Belphie, myself, and Beel will go.”

Before Storm could open her mouth again, Lucifer interrupted her. “That includes you, Storm. You are staying as well. I need someone responsible to look after the others.”

“What, ya saying I ain’t responsible?!” Mammon snorted in frustration.

“Yes.” Lucifer stated flatly, before turning to Solomon as he began drawing a large circle on the ground with chalk.

“Lucifer...” Storm pleaded, her eyes shimmering with fear. “I’m worried about Beel. Please...”

Lucifer sighed. “...I have a bad feeling about how things will turn out with all of us going to the cave. This is enough of a hassle as it is. I have no desire to make it even worse...” he paused, staring into Storm’s puppy dog eyes.

“But there’s power in numbers, right?” Heart added with a shrug.

“Yes, I’m sure that would be true if you were talking about individuals who were in any way competent.” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose. “But that’s not the case here. Just imagining this group in that castle gives me a headache.”

“We’re a family.” Levi interjected, stepping forward. He puffed out his chest in a display of faux confidence as he stood up to Lucifer. He swallowed hard, sparing a nervous glance to Sarah for support. “We wont just stay back and do nothing. We’re going.”

Lucifer sighed, closing his eyes as he admitted defeat. “Fine. But you will all behave and better not touch a single thing in that cave.”

Storm ran to Lucifer, hugging tight around his midsection. He lifted his arms, uncertain of what to do with them as she nuzzled her head against his abdomen. Her voice was low enough to where only he could hear. “Thank you, Lucifer.”

His cheeks burned red as he awkwardly patted Storm’s back, not knowing how to feel about her sudden, brazen display of intimacy in front of the others. He glanced around, landing almost instantly on Fern’s harsh scowl, and then to Barbatos’ warning stare. Finally, she let go, smiling warmly at him. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“I will request that we have some individuals stay behind to aid in cleaning the mess with the angels.” Barbatos interjected, trying to shift the focus to the ridiculous mess behind them. He narrowed his eyes at Sarah, knowing she was a significant contributor to the mess.

“Fine. Sarah, Vivi, and Fern, you two will stay.” Lucifer aided Solomon in moving some furniture out of the way as he marked his path, whistling a joyful tune as he worked.

“What! Why us?!” Sarah’s words slurred as she whined at the oldest.

Lucifer whipped around, a look of rage passing by his features as he pointed to Sarah and Fern. “First of all, you two are beyond drunk and your presence would likely cause trouble. Second, you all specifically are responsible for a significant amount of this damage, and I expect that Barbatos will keep you three in line.”

Lucifer turned to Barbatos, straightening his back. “You have my permission to inflict any punishment you desire if either of them shirk off their cleaning duties.”

“Understood.” Barbatos smiled wickedly, casting a satisfied grin toward the 3 humans. He immediately handed them all brooms, ordering them to get to work.

Lucifer sighed, catching Storm’s twinkling eye and warm smile out of the corner of his vision. She moved to grab Beel’s hand again. He figured she was comforted by the supportive touch, and thought for a moment perhaps he should take up her other one.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve drawn this particular magic circle.” Solomon mused, cutting off Lucifer’s thoughts.

“Hurry up Solomon.” Belphie hissed, impatiently pacing around Beel and Storm.

Another deep sigh escaped Lucifer’s lips. “Please try to be patient. We don’t want him to make an error and send us to the middle of Lotan’s lair or something.”

“He could work a little faster though.” Belphie murmured as Solomon stood, dusting off his hands.

“I have to say, I am surprised that you counted a reaper amongst your acquaintances, Solomon.” Satan sighed, dusting off a stray mark from where Solomon’s chalk had snapped.

“Yeah, aren’t reapers known to like...keep to themselves?” Levi added, “I hear they’re pretty anti-social...”

“Oh! Oh! Solomon! This reaper friend of yours...are they hot?” Asmo giggled, leaning obnoxiously far over him as he continued marking the ground.

Solomon chuckled. “Hmm. Good question. I suppose you should just see for yourself, right?”

“Aww, no fair! I want to meet the hot reaper!” Sarah pouted, stamping her foot in annoyance.

Barbatos clicked his tongue in annoyance before whaping her across the nape of her neck with a wooden spoon. Sarah yelped, glaring toward the butler in annoyance.

“Fucking OW!” Sarah whined, now sweeping faster for fear of being struck again.

“Come on, Solomon. At least give me a little taste of what to expect!” Asmo begged, tugging on his coat.

“Well, I wouldn’t say this reaper looks like an antisocial loner, but I suppose they do sort of fit that description.” Solomon shrugged. “Though I suppose their appearance is a matter of taste, really. I find them quite attractive, though I’ve really only seen them looking quite angry.”

“Wait, I thought you said this reaper was your friend...” Heart glanced uneasily toward Asmo.

“I’d like to think we are.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Vivi raised an eyebrow in irritation.

“...Well...” Solomon chuckled nervously, “...I just don’t know if the feeling is mutual.”

Storm swallowed hard, shifting her weight between her feet. Lucifer looked on, feeling bad that she didn’t have Malice at her side. Beel’s reassuring squeeze of her hand seemed to calm her down slightly though, which eased his guilt.

“Alright, finished.” Solomon turned to the brothers and Storm. “Now, this reaper isn’t exactly the friendly type, so it’s possible we may be accused of trespassing.”

“Wha- why are you smiling!? That doesn’t seem like the sort of thing to smile about!” Levi shook his head, scooting his way anxiously toward Heart to mimic Storm’s act of receiving comfort. He gripped Heart’s entire arm tightly, accidentally yanking them toward him.

Ignoring Levi’s anxiety, Solomon began his incantation. A strong wind began to circle the sigil he had drawn on the ground as everyone stepped inside of it.

“I am the magician Solomon, Heed my words! Open the way forward, creating a path where there was none!”

“Wait, Solomon! Whaddaya mean we’ll be accused of trespassing!” Mammon shouted over the wind as it picked up speed, causing everyones hair to whip back and forth.

Again, ignoring the brothers, Solomon continued: “Show us the way to the reaper’s cave!”

A bright white light blinded everyone in the circle before the group disappeared from the castle ballroom, leaving only trails of chalk dust and stands of Storm’s vibrant red hair in their wake.

Barbatos sighed, glad the chaos that was caused by the brothers was now finally over. He turned his attention back to the other two humans, only to be caught completely off guard by the brooms laying haphazardly amongst the broken glass and bits of food strewn about the floor. He snapped his eyes up to Simeon, his eyelid twitching in annoyance.

“They asked me not to say anything.” Simeon chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’ll get this place cleaned up.”

“You’d better.” Barbatos hissed, now turning his attention back to Diavolo.

Luke groaned in frustration. “Simeon! We have to do this all ourselves?!”

Simeon merely smiled, returning his focus to sweeping. He hummed as Luke groaned again, louder this time.

“G’AAAHHHH!” Mammon yelped, collapsing onto the ground first. Most of the rest of the group fell from the portal that opened a fair distance above the ground in a plethora of screams and yelps. Each landed clumsily around Mammon, who slowly tried to get back up to his feet.

Storm had tried her best to land gracefully, but the amount of others cascading down out of the portal ended up throwing off her rhythm. Fern grabbed her ankle as they fell through after her, causing her to land directly on top of Mammon.

“G’URGH!” He spat out as Storm’s weight sent him flat onto his back. “H-hey! Get Offa’ me!”

“Fuck, sorry!” Storm scrambled off of him quickly before helping him up and dusting off his jacket. “Are you okay, Mams?”

“Acgh...No! What’re ya thinkin’, Red?!” He groaned, clutching his abdomen. “Seriously, how’d ya manage to land knee-first on my stomach!? I’m gonna end up dead before I even have the chance to meet the reaper at this rate!”

Storm shifted anxiously. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Solomon, why the fuck did you put the portal so high!” Fern groaned, stretching out their back from the painful landing they had. Unfortunately for them, a very angry Vivi had been their cushion as they fell to the ground.

“Fern, I’m gonna fucking kill you.” Vivi growled as Satan tried to help her to her feet.

"Hup!” Solomon brushed off his cape as he landed on the ground perfectly. “I couldn’t ask for a better landing!”

Lucifer was the last to Land from the portal, surprised to see how many of the individuals had not learned that portals can be tricky to maneuver through. What also caught his attention was three extra humans who shouldn’t be here. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, the pounding in his head only worsening from the fact that this trip was clearly shaping up to be worse than he anticipated.

“I forgot to mention that you should watch where you land whenever you transport somewhere.” Solomon chuckled, helping a few of the others to their feet.

“T-thanks for the tip.” Heart groaned as Levi finally rolled off of him.

“It’s a little late to be warning us NOW!” Levi whined, rubbing his lower back with a wince.

“Hey...Solomon..?” Asmo whimpered nervously. Solomon and the others who now stood turned to him as he pointed at a message scrawled above the entrance to the cave.

“Is...Is that blood?!” Sarah shrieked, immediately hiding behind Vivi for protection. Vivi hissed, pushing Sarah away aggressively and scooting closer toward Satan.

“Attention Solomon, you damned pest of a magician...” Satan cocked his head trying to read the messy chicken scratch. “Just TRY sneaking into my cave while I’m gone, and I promise I’ll make you pay. I’ll take your candle and trample it, boil it, and chop it into a million pieces. Then your soul will be MINE, you bone-headed fool!”

“Ahaha! You have to admit, that’s pretty funny!” Solomon laughed as the others glanced amongst each other in confusion.

“Uh, no...That’s definitely not what I’d call funny.” Levi shook his head. “Anyway, if this reaper wrote a nasty message specifically directed at you, then...”

“Solomon...what did you do?” Storm scratched her forearm nervously.

“Hmm...nothing I can think of off-hand.” Solomon tapped his chin for a moment before eventually shrugging. “Anyways, lets head in!”

“Whoa, hold on a second!” Mammon spread out his arms, blocking Solomon’s way. “You see a message like that and you’re just gonna ignore it? Are ya crazy!?”

“Well, the reaper’s not here, right?” Belphie shrugged. “So that means we can go in, find Beel’s candle, and leave. Easy.”

“Oh, wait! I almost forgot.” Solomon grabbed Belphie’s sleeve, signaling for the others to pause. “There’s something else you all should know. Here in the reaper’s cave, there are certain rules that must be followed. Otherwise, you may end up dead before you even make it to the candles.”

“What?!” Mammon shrieked, feeling a shiver run up his spine.

Storm bit her lip to keep it from trembling, now digging her nails deep into her skin. She felt so much anxiety rise at the idea of another one of her close friends- or rather, family- falling victim to the reapers wrath. Perhaps she made a mistake in insisting they all come with. The anxiety coursing through her veins caused her breath to pick up, almost causing her to dry-heave. Beel watched as she desperately tried to hide he growing panic from the others.

“Storm.” Lucifer placed a hand gently on her back, murmuring to her quietly. “It’ll be alright, just relax.”

She whipped her gaze up to him. The soft look in Lucifer’s eyes and the tickle of his thumb rubbing against her shoulder blade allowed her to calm down ever-so slightly. She took a deep breath as Lucifer turned his attention back toward Solomon.

“What are the rules, then?”

“Yeah, and if we don’t follow ‘em..? I mean, c’mon, ya gotta be exaggeratin’ right?” Mammon added.

“I wish I were, but no.” Solomon crossed his arms. “Now listen up. The reaper’s cave consists of 5 levels, each one deeper than before. And each level has its own specific rule, which the reaper has determined. If you break a rule, you get punished.”

“Sounds soo dangerous.” Vivi rolled their eyes, their tone dripping with sarcasm. “So, then we follow the rules. What’s so hard about that?”

“The rules here are absolute. You have to obey them, no exceptions.” Solomon raised a brow toward Vivi, who still looked disinterested. “So before we go in, you all have to agree to follow the rules exactly.”

“Wait. I don’t want to put Storm and the other humans in a dangerous situation like this...” Beel glanced uncertainly toward where Storm stood at Lucifer’s side, feeling unnerved by the fact that she had panicked before even stepping foot in the cave. “Maybe you should take her and the others home.”

“We’re not leaving.” Belphie shook his head.

“But-”

“I’ll be fine.” Storm breathed deeply, catching Beel’s eye. “I have you all here with me. I’ll...I’ll be okay.”

“Exactly!” Asmo beamed. “Besides, Storm isn’t an ordinary human. She’s got enough power to subdue all of us just by yelling “sit” and “stay,” right?!”

Lucifer tightened his hold on her back. “That is correct, yes. And the other humans here can follow her lead just as easily. So we’ll be fine. Solomon, lead the way.”

“I see...” He smiled, but beneath it showed uncertainty. “It’s good to see such glowing support amongst friends-”

“Family.” Beel corrected, moving to stand beside Storm and grabbing her hand.

“Yes...Family.” Solomon swallowed hard. “Well then, alright. Ready to get going?”

The group nodded amongst themselves, straightening their posture to follow Solomon into the cave. Solomon’s demeanor changed as he turned to face the cave.

“Alright! Lets face the reapers’ challenge!” He chuckled to himself, a slight bounce in his step as he eagerly entered the dark cavern.

“...He sounds like a child at an amusement park.” Lucifer mumbled, shaking his head and beginning to follow the group into the cave.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.” Asmo sighed, taking Heart’s hand in his.

#5 sides of human #obey me! #obey me #shall we date: obey me #obey me oc #obey me mc #obey me mcs #obey me ocs #obey me mc: fern #obey me mc: storm #obey me mc: sarah #obey me mc: heart #obey me mc: vivi #om! #om! shall we date #om! one master to rule them all #obey me: shall we date #obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me fic #obey me series #om! series #om! fic

[ddproductionsw77]

Four Kisses

Fandom: IT (2017)

Pairing(s): Stenbrough, Billverly (it happens but, like, just trust me on this guys, okay?), Hints of Reddie and hints of Benverly 

Characters: Stan Uris, Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak, and Richie Tozier

Rating: T

Description: A story of four different kisses between four different people that ends with two boys being a little scared and a lot in love (Aged-Up to High School)

Author’s Note: This is the REVISED version, (hopefully) typo free and pretty! The poetry quotes come from Edgar Allen Poe’s poem “Romance.” and the lyrics are from the song “Come On, Eileen” by Dexys Midnight Runners.

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The First Kiss (That started it all…)

It had begun, like so many things, in the summer of ’89. 

Bill and Stanley had always been best friends.

Bill understood him better than most, listening to him and reasoning with him when he had to. There were times were Stan felt like a neon display board before Bill, like the other boy could read every thought in his frantic, nervous brain. There were times where they would look at each other and not have to utter a single word to know what the other was thinking. 

Stan cherished those times.

And Bill would just do things… things he really didn’t need to just because he wanted to. Over time, Stan had come to understand it was just a fundamental part of Bill Denbrough that he would do anything for a fellow Loser. Still, he found himself a little awestruck by it from time to time.

It was in the summer of ’89, though, that they met Beverly Anne Marsh.

Stan saw the way Bill watched her. 

He saw how the other boy’s jaw would slacken and his mouth would fall open a bit like Beverly was a masterpiece to behold. He saw the way the pair would inch toward each other, would brush the backs of their hands together, would blush and smile at each other like they had some little secret. And for a long time, Stan didn’t understand why Bill and Bev’s interactions lingered in his brain. He couldn’t explain the way his gut twisted when Bill would glance at him only to slip his gaze back to Bev. 

He didn’t really want to think about it too much. It felt... dangerous to dwell on.

Yeah, it started in the summer, just a week after Beverly had moved away from Derry and right before they’d start their last year of middle school. Bill was still moping around, as was Ben. Mike had to help his grandfather with the farm and Eddie had some appointment for an x-ray on his arm. So, Stan had wordlessly let Richie in when the bespectacled boy had shown up on his stoop, just like he had about a million times before.

Richie made his way noisily through the Uris household. Once he reached Stan’s bedroom, he threw himself down on the other boy’s neatly made bed. Stan remained standing, rigid in his posture by the door.

Richie sat up, groaning and resting a hand against his side, “Son of a bitch.”

Stanley rolled his eyes before wordlessly leaving the room. 

He returned a moment later with a glass of water and two capsules of pain reliever. Kicking Richie’s dirty converse with his gleaming shoes, Stan held both out, “Drink up, Trashmouth. It’ll help.”

Richie swallowed the pills after a roll of his eyes, before narrowing his gaze on Stan, “What?”

“What?”

“The fuck you lookin’ at me like that for?”

“Oh, I don’t know because it’s not like you just got your ass handed to you by your own mother.” Stan snapped, sarcastically.

Richie’s face broke into an impish grin and he winked, “There he is, Stan the Man, everybody!”

Stan wasn’t a moron, he’d seen the way Richie looked at Eddie — a bit like how Bill looked at Bev. He inspected his orderly fingernails, all the exact same length and filed smooth. His heart pounded in his chest and he began uttering the names of birds under his breath.

Richie’s grin faltered a bit, familiar with the nervous tick, but he managed to keep it in place as he stood up and raised his hands playfully, “No need to have a meltdown over little ole me, Stanley. Breathe.”

“It’s not that,” Stan shook his head, turning away from Richie to begin pacing, “Robin — Sparrow — Crane — it’s something — Swallow — else.”

“O…kay,” Richie hummed, watching his friend wear down the carpet. “Spit it out, Stanny Boy. Can’t be that bad; I already know about you killing Jesus and all that.”

“Beep, beep,” Stan muttered darkly before sighing loudly, “Richie, what- I know you- Can you—“

“Jesus fuck, Stanley!”

“How did you know you liked boys?” Stan finally got out, feeling like he might vomit the moment he managed it. Richie stared at him with a bewildered expression on his face and Stan cleared his throat that felt like it was closing up on him and stopped dead, “I mean, wh-what does it feel like?”

“What does it feel like?” Richie echoed, stunned. “To be into dudes?”

Stan nodded, not meeting the other boy's eyes through his glasses. “That’s what I fucking asked, isn’t it?”

Just like that, the Trashmouth seemed to snap himself out of his shock, his expression curling into his signature smirk of amusement. He rolled his eyes and Stanley contemplated punching him in the throat. Before he could act on this, though, Richie opened his mouth.

“I’m pretty damn sure you know exactly what it’s like, Stan the Man. Or have I just been imagining all the eye fucking you’ve been doing to our poor, innocent Billy Boy?”

Stan was mortified, staring at Richie with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights. 

Holy fuck, was it that obvious?

Richie sighed at Stan’s horrified expression before taking a few slow steps toward the other boy. He raised his hands in mock surrender again and grinned, “Stan, it’s fine. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who notices. Nobody else really thinks about how a guy looks at another guy…”

“But, but I can’t like Bill,” Stan implored, “I don’t like him.”

Richie looked thoughtful for a moment, chewing his lip before suddenly grabbing Stanley. Before Stan could react, Richie kissed him. 

His first kiss…

It was short and quick, nothing like in the movies with fireworks and slow motion. Nothing like how Stan had thought it would be to kiss another boy then again it was Richie and not Bill. 

It was always Bill in his head…

When it was over a beat later, Stan began sputtering and Richie cut him off. “Stanley, just listen to me, okay?”

Stan mutely nodded. 

Richie sighed and shrugged before continuing, “Did you feel anything?”

Mouth pressed into a tight, white line and fist clenched, Stan shook his head.

“Me neither,” Richie supplied. “All I could think about was E— um, someone else, wishing I was kissing them. You?”

Stan nodded once again.

“Bill?”

Nod.

“Stanny, you got it bad.” Richie stepped away from him, making his way back toward Stan’s bed.

Stan gulped, “I know about Eddie.”

Richie froze, back still to Stan. A second later, his shoulders slumped and he looked back at his friend, “Yeah, well, I got it pretty bad, too.”

So, Stanley was gay.

And he really liked Bill Denbrough.

And he didn’t have a fucking chance.

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The Second Kiss (That complicated everything…)

Stanley managed to live with these inevitabilities throughout all eighth grade. 

It’d been pretty easy with Bill still be very much missing Beverly Marsh. He’d spend hours telling Stan, Richie, Eddie, Ben, and Mike about what they talked about on the phone when she did manage to call. Stan knew Bev wrote Bill, too, having caught sight of letters tucked into Bill’s notebooks with her handwriting sprawled across them. 

It was easy to remember Bill was a hopeless case when he had those constant reminders.

High school was different, though. 

Bill hardly ever brought Bev up anymore and when someone — usually Ben — did, he’d just smile and say he missed her before moving along. No more long sighs or forlorn, lovesick looks. Anyone could sense a difference in the dynamic especially Stan, who knew Bill best.

Another change that came with Freshman year was that Stanley found getting his straight As was a bit more difficult. He abhorred English and art most of all because he wasn’t one for interpretation and that seemed to be all those subjects were. He liked the comfort of fact in numbers and equations, like in science and mathematics. 

Luckily, Bill had stepped up to help him once his classic literature grade fell to a C-. 

The boys would spend hours in the library or in one of their bedrooms, pouring over Shakespeare, Hawthorne, and Tolstoy. Bill loved Jules Verne, H.P. Lovecraft, and H.G. Wells, Stan discovered, and he’d read Frankenstein and Dracula three times each, annotating his own copies to hell. 

What Stan loved most of all, though, was when he was really stuck, Bill would read aloud to him. The other boy never once stuttered when uttering the words of long-dead authors and just like that the passage would make sense to Stan. It was good for both of them.

Their almost daily after-school meetings had become the best part of Stan’s routine. Being with Bill and having his full attention for a few hours, that would be enough to pacify him. He’d never have to confront all the swirling confusion in his head over his best friend if he could just keep having those few hours. 

The month before spring break, however, everything got fucked up.

It was dark in Bill’s bedroom, the only light coming from the dim lamp on his bedside table and the setting sun outside the windows. Stan laid back across the foot of his best friend’s bed, staring up at the ceiling without seeing it. His mind wandered as Bill sat up with his back to his headboard, reading aloud from a book of Edgar Allen Poe poetry.

“His pleasures always turn’d to pain—

His naivete to wild desire—

His wits to love—his wine to fire,”

Something had changed in Bill’s voice and he grew quiet. 

Stan turned his head to look at the other boy, eyebrows drawing together. 

His stomach dropped, finding Bill’s bright blue eyes focusing on him intensely as if he’d forgotten the book before him entirely. Electricity buzzed through Stan’s bloodstream and he slowly rose to a sitting position, eyes never leaving Bill’s as the other boy opened his mouth, continuing without even glancing at the words.

“And so, being young and dipt in folly,

I fell in love with melancholy…”

Stan’s eyes flickered to Bill’s lips as the other boy trailed off and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. The air seemed heavy with some raw emotion that Stan couldn’t name for the life of him. His heart pounded in his ears and he leaned forward as if a string was tugging him closer to Bill.

Stan wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Bill Denbrough more in that moment than he’d ever wanted anything in his whole life.

Like he was reading Stan’s mind once again, Bill pushed the book aside and moved forward until his face was inches from Stan’s. 

The curly haired boy took in the scent of him, wanting to commit it to memory so that he’d be able to take it out and revel in it later. Bill smelled how Stan imagined all writers must smell; like paper and ink, book and boy. Stanley fell into those piercing blue eyes with his own hooded irises, being pulled under the current of them without a fight.

When Bill spoke it was so quiet that even centimeters apart Stan barely heard him.

“I fell in love with melancholy.”

Then they were kissing. 

Stan gripped Bill’s baseball tee like it was the only thing keeping him from floating far, far away and Bill settled in closer, his fingers tracing the bones of Stan’s rib cage as he felt the rise and fall of the other boy’s lungs. 

They parted for a second, eyes fluttering open to stare at each other before Bill kissed him again. 

Soon, Bill gently pulled Stan on top of him, sprawling them back on the bed. Stan let himself fall onto his elbows and hovered over the other boy. Bill gripped his hips and pulled him down, closer. Without paying any mind to his actions, Stanley slotted his fingers into Bill’s hair and was reminded of the down feathers of birds. 

Bill smiled against his lips, moving his hands to his face and kissing him harder. A moment later, his best friend’s tongue was in his mouth and Stan felt lightheaded. Grape chapstick and spearmint toothpaste were what Bill Denbrough tasted like; Stan had always wondered.

Now he knew… Maybe he had died, or maybe he was dreaming because kissing Bill Denbrough could not be his reality. 

Stanley Uris was not that lucky.

Bill pulled at Stan’s shirt, untucking it and slipping his hands under the hem. As his cool fingers made contact with Stan’s pale skin, a shock went through the boy’s whole body and brought him crashing back to reality.

He was kissing a boy.

He was kissing Bill.

—and Bill had untucked his shirt! It would get wrinkled! He would go home and his mother would ask why his shirt was wrinkled and he’d have to tell her! She’d see it on his face! That he’d kissed a—

Stan jumped up, shoving Bill back, “No! Stop! I—No!”

He tried to correct his shirt but his hands were shaking too badly and his vision was blurring. 

Ohgodohgodohgod! 

FuckFuckFuck!

Stan’s head was spinning and he thought he might throw up —what a shame that would be; it’d make all the Bill taste go away. 

What the hell had just happened? What— what the fuck was he supposed to do? 

Bill was on his feet in seconds and striving toward him, “W-wait, Stan, p-p-please—!“

He reached out to gently rest a hand on Stanley’s arm, touching Stanley’s skin again. Yelping as if burned, Stan ran into Bill’s dresser and nearly fell to the ground trying to scramble away. 

Bill liked girls—Stan was gay.

Bill could never like him—Stan didn’t have a chance. 

Bill looked so hurt—Were those tears in his eyes?

It couldn’t be, this wasn’t happening.

“Stan, I’m s-s-sorry, okay? I juh-juh-juh—“ Bill seemed stuck on the word and Stan longed to stay put and wait patiently for him to get there eventually but he just couldn’t this time. Not when he would still feel Bill’s hands on his back and taste grapes and spearmint in his mouth.

“You shouldn’t have— You can’t— I can’t—“ Stan clawed up his bag from the ground and bit his cheek hard, looking back at Bill once more before he fled the bedroom. 

Stan hated himself after that, even more than usual. He went gone to school the next day and expected to be confronted, yelled at, or even punched. He wanted to feel Bill’s anger, like a penance for what he’d done. 

He was shit and he deserved to be treated like it.

But, of fucking course, Bill was who he was so none of that happened.

Instead, Bill had greeted him with all the other guys, a smile on his lips. If the smile didn’t reach his eyes, Stan didn’t let himself think about it and he most definitely didn’t comment on it. He didn’t comment either when Bill said he couldn’t tutor him after school that day, or the next, or the next.

Bill didn’t like him. Maybe Bill was curious or maybe he felt bad for Stan, maybe he’d found out how Stan felt. The kiss could have come from a million different things but Bill most definitely didn’t like him.

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The Third Kiss (That clarified it all…)

Beverly was coming back to Derry.

Bill couldn’t believe it, honestly. The Losers Club was conditioned to take hits as they came and rarely stumbled into fortune. Beverly coming back, though, that was a fucking miracle.

He’d missed her like crazy. He missed her spirited presence, her easy humor, the way she was always brushing hair off her face and smirking at him like he was the biggest fucking nerd she’d ever met but she still found it endearing. He missed her floral perfume and her mixed wardrobe of dresses, leggings, and overalls always paired with untied work boots that somehow never tripped her.

The first day of spring break, when she’d come strolling up the Denbough’s sidewalk, Bill had thought for a moment that no time had passed at all. Maybe it was still the summer of 1989. Maybe Bev had never left, maybe he’d had never kissed Stan, maybe Stan hadn’t shoved him away, maybe the ache in his chest wasn’t really there.

But, no, that wasn’t how the world worked. Bev coming home didn’t reset the clock.

Beverly ran and hugged Bill first, shrieking in joy as she ran into his waiting arms. 

Bill lifted her right off her feet and spun her through the air. Setting her down gently, Bill ignored the feeling of eyes on his back. He didn’t have to look to know it was Stanley watching them; he could feel it in his chest.

Bev was just as excited to see Ben, Richie, Eddie, Mike, and Stan as she had been Bill. Still, the stuttering boy noticed how Ben’s arms lingered around Bev’s waist when they embraced. When the pair finally parted, Bill also noticed the faintest of pinks spread across Beverly’s freckles

Bill thought he should probably feel jealous.

Fuck, how long had he been hung up on Beverly after she moved away? Months? A year? Now she was back and he was so happy to be around her again but not like he’d been back then. His palms didn’t sweat when she stood close anymore and his heart didn’t skip a beat when her blue eyes glanced his way.

No, Bill’s heart raced for someone else these days… not that it mattered.

Stan had hardly spoken to him seen they’d kissed. He didn’t come over anymore and never invited Bill over. Ben or Eddie helped him with his homework nowadays and something in Bill’s chest burned with anger every time he thought about that.

What right did Stanley have to be angry at him? So what? Bill had kissed him, so fucking what? He’d obviously misread everything between him and Stan; he’d thought something was there that obviously wasn’t but did that really deserve the cold shoulder? The total and complete write off?

Fuck Stanley Uris. 

Bill didn’t need him, could learn to not long for him, would force himself to move forward. He’d done it once already, after all, over his infatuation with Beverly and he’d do it again over Stan. 

Bill could figure this out.

He could.

Things took a turn for the stupid on Bev’s last night in town, however. 

Her aunt went a town over to visit a friend, giving her niece permission to stay with one of her friends. Of course, Beverly had asked Bill. The Denbrough house was like Losers Club headquarters; everyone stayed there.

And Bill had said yes because why wouldn’t he? His parents were even out of town for the weekend; he didn’t have to bother with asking their permission if it would be okay. 

That night, Beverly grinned at him, swirling her finger over the rim of one of his father’s whiskey glasses. 

“Thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’, Billy?”

He snorted, resting a hand on her’s to still it, “N-no way, Bev. My Dad would notice, t-trust me.” 

Bev pouted, looking downcast at the wooden floors. Bill narrowed his eyes before sighing and taking back the hand on her’s to pinch the bridge of his nose. “B-but, I think I might have su-su-something up i-in my ruh-ruh-room.”

“Your stutter still gets worse when you’re nervous, like when we were kids,” Beverly grinned, “It’s still cute.” She leaned forward to whisper before grasping his hand and leading the way upstairs.

Bill had the good stuff, tequila, one of Beverly’s personal favorites. The bottle started full and within a few hours, it was nearly finished off. 

The pair sat on Bill’s floor, laughing at something that sober Bill and Bev would have known was not that funny but drunk Bill and Bev thought was fucking hilarious. The radio played loudly through the room so that both of them had to raise their voices to be heard by the other.

“So,” Bev started with a giggle after taking an impressive gulp of liquor, “You and Stan…?”

Bill’s grin fell and he suddenly felt the boards of his bed dig into his back as he sprawled his legs out in front of him, “No. Definitely nothing happening there.”

His stutter always faded away when he was drunk enough, he loved it.

Her eyebrows drew together, “Bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Bill reaffirmed, taking the bottle back for another swig, “He—He’s not—It’s not bullshit. Nothing is going on.”

Beverly fell back, growing quiet with a look of confusion. 

The tell-tale strings of ‘Come On, Eileen’ began playing and Bev gasped, jumping to her feet so quickly it was actually quite impressive to behold.

“Oh fuck, I love this song!” She cried, beginning to dance about. Bill watched with an amused curl of his lip, his back to his bed, still on the floor. A second later, Beverly was grabbing at him and dragging him to his feet. “Dance with me!”

Bill set the tequila aside and allowed her to pull him up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, coaxing him into a reluctant sway. He laughed at the ridiculousness of it all before resting his hands on her waist. Within seconds, the pair was dancing dizzily around Bill’s bedroom, stepping on each other’s feet and nearly tripping over his rug.

Spinning Beverly, Bill pulled her back into his chest and grinned down at her face, just inches from his own. 

These people round here

Wear beaten-down eyes sunk in smoke-dried faces

They're so resigned to what their fate is

But not us (no, never)

“I don’t want to leave tomorrow,” Beverly mumbled, growing somber as her big blue eyes looked into Bill’s. 

His heart sunk and he swallowed, “But you’re moving back in the summer. You’ll be back before you know it.”

“I don’t want to wait till summer. I miss you,” She said with a sigh, “I miss all of you.”

“We miss you, too,” He admitted, “Saying goodbye is gunna suck.”

Beverly nodded, glancing back with a slight blush before she looked up with a playful smiling, “Remember saying goodbye last time?”

Bill mind flashed to a summertime breeze, the scent of blood in the air, and Beverly’s lips on his. He’d been so swept up in her back then. Her heart, her mind, her everything was just so beautiful… still was.

“Yeah, I remember.”

Beverly slipped her hands from around his neck to his face, cradling his jaw and running her thumbs over his cheekbones. With a little huff of resignation, she leaned in, pulled him in, and kissed him hard. 

Suddenly, Bill felt thirteen again, trying to tell his first crush everything he felt for her in one last goodbye kiss. He wrapped his arms around Beverly, pushing himself flush against her and deepening the searing, tequila flavored kiss.

No, not us (no, never)

We are far too young and clever (remember)

Too-ra-loo-ra, too-ra-loo-rye, aye

And you'll hum this tune forever

With a moan, Beverly pushed her tongue into his mouth and he greedily accepted the invitation. Something in the back of his mind screamed out in protest, reminding him of ironed shirts, pristine Adias, and curly brown hair, but he was too drunk on liquor, Beverly, and music to care. A sober Bill would have known how stupid this was.

Walking the girl backward, Bill picked her up when they reach his bed and sat her down on the mattress. Quickly tossing his shirt aside, he slotted himself between her legs and ducked his head to kiss down her neck from the ear to the base. Beverly gripped his hair and moaned when he pressed his lips to a certain spot.

“Bill—“ She breathed out, pulling at his hair until he was forced to pull away and meet her gaze. “Are you sure? Nothing has to happen. I’m gone tomorrow.”

“That’s the p-p-point, Bev,” Bill muttered, kissing her again and laying her back on his bed to hover over her, “We’re j-j-just suh-saying goodbye.”

She traced a thumb over his lower lip, “Even drunk, you stutter when you’re nervous,” Bev echoed herself from earlier before nodding, “Okay, Billy, tell me goodbye.”

So, he did.

Come on Eileen

Oh, I swear what he means

Aah, come on let's

Take off everything

That pretty red dress

Eileen (tell him yes)

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The Fourth Kiss (The one that finally brought them together.)

“Get the fuck up and put some goddamn clothes on!” Someone yelled, shaking Bill awake.

He startled up and looked blearily on. He found he had a splitting headache and was indeed clothe-less; Richie Tozier of all people was standing in his room, too. 

He squinted away from the sun and groaned, “Wh-what time is it?”

“Time for you to fucking explain some shit,” Richie snapped, throwing boxers and a t-shirt at his friend harder than necessary. “So put your dick away, please.”

After tugging the clothes on, Bill’s brain began to whirl at a sickening pace and he glanced around the bedroom once again. 

“Looking for Bevvie?” Richie asked, quirking an eyebrow. “She already left. A fucking hour ago. That was why I was here, why all the Losers were here; to tell her goodbye until the summer.” Richie explained, sounding more and more angry with each word. “When fucking Stanley asked where the fuck you were, you know what Bevvie said?”

Bill looked away, ears flushing. He could guess…

“She said you two had already said your goodbyes… So, I thought, what the fuck does that mean? And then she got all weird and blush-y and wouldn’t look any of us in the goddamn eye. You know what I thought then, Billy Boy?”

Bill cringed, both at what he knew was next and at Richie’s rising voice.

“I thought, holy shit… Bill fucked Bev.”

“Sh-sh-shut up, Richie!” Bill snapped, looking back up at his friend to glare, “It wasn’t like that.”

“Wasn't like what, Bill? Hmm? You didn’t have sex with Beverly, then?” Richie accused.

Bill fell silent, his whole face now bright red. Richie snorted.

Anger now igniting in his chest as well, “Wh-what’s it to you anyway, Tozier? Wh-what happened has f-fuck all to do with you!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Richie looked at him incredulously, “No way you don’t see how fucked up what you did is. Normally, you’re a fucking moral compress, Denbrough, you know you screwed up!”

“Wh-what?” Bill asked, genuinely confused, “With Bev? It was just a goodbye, Richie! She k-knows that! It’s not like s-she’s in love with me!”

“BUT STAN IS!” Richie yelled at the top of his lung, slamming a fist down on Bill’s desk. His glasses were knocked askew.

Bill stood stock still, forgetting to breathe for a second. All the emotions, feelings, thoughts he’d been trying to repress ever since Stan’s rejection came crashing into him like a tidal wave. Shakily, his knees gave out. 

Falling back onto his mattress, Bill swallowed hard and shook his head, “B-beep beep, Trashmouth. Y-you have no idea wh-what you’re t-talking about.”

“No, no, you don’t get to fucking ‘beep’ me right now, Billiam!” Richie snapped, putting a finger up. “I know exactly what I’m talking about! I’m talking about how Stanley told me he had feelings for you almost two fucking years ago! I’m talking about how you, not Stan, started up all the flirting and the alone time with him this year! I’m fucking talking about how much a total dick you have got to be to string Stan along, only to fuck Beverly!”

“I-I-I was-n’t st-stringing him alo-along!” Bill felt like he had no oxygen, making him gasp with each involuntary stutter. It was so fucking infuriating and made him itch to punch something. 

A numbness slowly venturing up from his fingertips to spread across his body. He choked as he tried again to speak, “H-he— He—“

“Shit, this’ll kill him,” Richie grabbed a fist of his own curls and tugged with a groan, “Fuck you, Bill. Fuck you.”

With that Richie left him alone in his bedroom. 

Even after the weekend ended and he’d had so much time to think, Bill had no clue what to do. 

Stan couldn’t have feelings for him, no matter what bullshit Richie said. Bill had given Stan every hint and clue in the book — hell, he’d read him fucking poetry and kissed him — and all he’d gotten was ignorance and rejection. 

If Stan cared about him like he cared about him, why would he push him away at every turn?

But if Stan, somehow, someway, did feel the same as Bill… How the hell would he ever be able to tell him what he’d done?

Days later and sober, Bill could admit that having sex with Beverly hadn’t just been about saying goodbye to a friend and it wasn’t just about losing his virginity and it wasn’t just about being drunk. A part of him, a part he hated with a passion, had wanted…revenge.

He’d wanted to make Stan feel as shitty as he had watching the other boy tear away from him and get as far from him as possible. Having sex with Beverly, in some part, had been about getting back at Stan. It’d been out of spite.

Richie was right, Bill was a total dick. Fuck him.

Still, Bill didn’t completely regret it. He and Beverly had needed that closure, that certainty that nothing could ever happen between them anymore. They were meant for other people.

As he slowly walked to his locker, his locker just two down from Stan’s, he kept his eyes on his grey high-tops as they scuffed across the linoleum. His heart hammered in his chest and he had to make a conscious effort to not crush the paper in his hand. 

Chancing a glance up, Bill came to a sudden halt that resulted in a body slamming into his shoulder from behind and nearly sent him sprawling. He barely noticed.

Stan was at his own locker with the door open, fiddling around with his textbooks until they were neatly ordered from tallest to shortest in size. Wearing a light blue polo and khaki slacks, Bill’s chest twisted at how the mere sight of the other boy could send him reeling. 

Did Stan really have feelings for him, too? How would Bill ever tell him?

Taking a shaky breath, closing his eyes and counting to ten, Bill forced himself forward. Stan looked over as if he could feel Bill’s approaching presence. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he glanced back away, hands jumping back to rearrange his already perfect books. 

Why does he have to be so damn cute?

Moving until he was only a few feet away, Bill cleared his throat, “I n-n-need t-t-to talk to yuh-you.”

“Yes!” Stan squawked, turning scarlet at the ears, “I mean, okay, sure… When?”

“Study h-hall?” 

Stan nodded, expecting Bill to leave at that point. Only, he didn’t. He shifted from foot-to-foot before holding out his hand silently. There in his palm sat a piece of paper folded into the shape of a bird. 

Stan stared at it for a long moment before glancing up into Bill’s eyes, “What’s that?”

Bill rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s an or-origami bird.”

“Oh,” Stan mumbled, cheeks flushing as he smiled just a little. Nodding, he carefully took the paper bird. Bill watched as Stan tucked the little thing into his locker, atop his history book. He turned back to Bill, “Thank you for...” He pointed.

Bill nodded, feeling even worse now about telling Stanley the truth. He sighed and started to walk backward, “I’ll suh-see you in study h-hall.”

Stan nodded, closing his locker and heading in the opposite direction. As he walked to class, his mind lingered on the little paper bird taking up residence on his history book. It was the first time Bill had asked to speak to him alone since... the incident. For a split second, Stan let himself hope that was significant and then immediately scolded himself.

He hated himself for hoping.

Study hall was both Bill and Stan’s second period and came more quickly than either of them was prepared for. Before things had gotten so messy and complicated between them, they had met almost every day in the Derry High Library, at the very same table in the far back corner where the librarian rarely bothered to check. 

It was kind of Loser claimed, like the table in the cafeteria by the window where they all ate lunch together. By some miracle, all six boys had the same lunch period. Ben, Mike, and Stan always packed their lunches and Bill and Richie always waited through the line while everyone pretended not to notice how Eddie trailed alongside Richie despite packing his own lunch as well.

The table in the far back corner in the library was a bit like that. Their territory, neutral ground to any Loser... or two Losers who weren’t quite sure how to act around each other anymore.

Stan was waiting for Bill, straightening the pages of his notebook with an intense expression. So neat and orderly, Bill admired that about Stan since he just barely managed to keep his clutter organized enough for himself.

“H-hey,” He greeted, dropping his bag on to the table and slumping into the chair beside Stan.

“Hello,” Stan finally looked up from his notebook, still nervously fiddling with his nails. Meeting Bill’s eyes for a beat, he quickly went about inspecting his hands, “You wanted to talk?”

Bill nodded, trying to think of the right way to lay everything out. 

He didn’t want Stan to run away again, didn’t think he could bear it again, but he was also so tired of keeping everything locked up in his head. He needed a release and to ease the weight on his chest before he exploded.

Half-panicked, he blurted out, “I had s-s-sex with Beverly.”

Stan’s fiddling fingers froze and his head shot up to look at Bill, mouth agape. He blinked and swallowed before slowly breathing out, “Oh,” Forcing in a lungful of air, Stan cleared his throat, “Congratulations, I guess?”

That was what one guy said to another when they scored, right? That was what Bill wanted him to say, right? Because they were friends and normal guys who aren’t in like — or maybe something more — with their best friends would be happy that their buddy had ‘gotten laid’. 

Be normal, Stan. Just be normal. Ignore how much you want to throw up or cry or scream and just be fucking normal. He silently chanted, biting the inside of his cheek hard.

Bill sighed and dropped his head into his hand before looking back up at Stanley with a long sigh, “No, not c-con-congratulations! F-f-fuck, I juh-just—“

The boy was obviously flustered and nervous, with how much he was noticeably struggling with his stutter. Stan watched Bill rake a hand through his hair, hair he’d once touched too, with an air of confused. Well, what the fuck did Bill want from him, then? Why the fuck was he even telling him this?

“I m-m-messed up.” 

The curly haired boy’s eyebrows drew together, “How? You like Beverly, so—“

“I don’t.” Bill cut off, his voice determined and sure. “Nuh-not like that, at least. The sex made that p-p-pretty clear. I m-messed up because I was with her wh-when I really like someone else.”

“Someone else?” Stan echoed, the pain in his chest growing sharper with each word. First, he’d had to hear about Bill fucking Beverly and now he was going to have to hear about some new girl that Bill liked even more? He didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to hear it... But he was Bill’s friend.

“I like you,” Bill admitted, his voice keeping that sure tone as he stared into Stan’s eyes. 

The boy’s breath caught in his throat and he began jerkily shaking his head, “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do!”

“You like girls, Bill. You like Bev and you think Heather Listing is hot and you don’t like me!” Stan snapped, standing up from his chair. “It’s not funny, it’s not a joke, so just stop!”

Bill stood with him, “No! You don’t know how I f-f-feel! I’m not kidding! B-being with Beverly only m-made me realize once and for all th-that the only person I really want to be with is you, Stan! I k-know you p-probably don’t feel the same and th-that’s—“

That’s whatever, he’d been planning to say. It wasn’t whatever but he wouldn’t burden Stan with feelings he didn’t return. That had been his plan, at least.

But he couldn’t even finish the sentence, hands grasping his face and lips slamming against his. 

Stanley Uris, the most controlled person Bill Denbrough had ever met, was kissing him like his life depended on it in the Derry High Library on what could only be impulse. Bill didn’t care, though, moving closer and gripping the fabric of Stan’s polo in his fists. The weight in his chest lifted and for a moment, being with Stan like he’d always wanted to be, Bill felt more at ease than he’d been in weeks.

Stan was calming, his presence always comforting to Bill like a steady support to fall back on. A best friend but more…

When they pulled apart, Bill waited a few seconds to open his eyes, afraid that once he looked at Stan all he’d see was that same panic from his bedroom. Lids fluttering open, he found only a look of pure anxiety.

“I do feel the same way,” Stan admitted quietly, his breath ghosting over Bill’s face as they were still so close. “I’m just...” He trailed off, looking to the side shamefully.

“S-scared?” Bill supplied.

Stan nodded, flickering his gaze back to Bill’s.

“That’s okay,” The other boy shrugged, “I am, too. We’ll juh-just take it slow.”

“Take our time,” Stan agreed, nodding. “I like that.”

“M-me too. I’ll take all the t-time for you,” Bill reached out, slipping his hand into Stan’s and squeezing.

Stan actually smiled a little, squeezing back before bashfully muttering, “I really like you, Bill Denbrough.”

“I really like you, too, Stan Uris.” Bill replied easily without a single stumble.

#stenbrough #the losers of ‘89 were here #losers club #the losers club #stanley uris #bill denbrough #revised

[flydotnet]

Heart of Diamantine

WHUMMPTOBER, DAY 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.” Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

I speedran this fic in a single hour so fuck it, if it has a bunch of typos, it's not my issue anymore at this point lmao (it is, but I'm past the point of caring).

This was very close to be an unashamed novellization of RONC's Musashi route, but in the end, I found a cooler idea and I went balling with it.

Also, get it. I'm writing a Misugi-centric fic on a 14th? I'm clever. I'm very clever, in fact. Biggest brain of the fandom my guy.

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

Heart of Diamantine

Summary: 5 times a boy was told to just hold on, and one time a man got to say it back.

Fandom: Captain Tsubasa (I'm flooding tags everywhere)

Word Count: 2.1K words

AO3 version available here.

CW for brief discussion of childbirth.

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

Just hold on is a thing Jun has heard a lot of time over his life, come to think of it.

The first time he did was absolutely horrifying to remember. He must’ve been no older than six years old – the memory is too fuzzy for him to remember and too forbidden for anyone else around him to ever speak of it, lest Mother replicate – but the fear from it still resonates vividly inside of him.

That was the first heart attack he could remember having. It was a sunny day outside, the grass so green and bright, the chirp of birds – and everything feeling odd and blurry at the edges. If you had asked him about it, back then, he’d have told you he felt sleepy, but it was weird because it was three in the afternoon.

For all of the blur in his memory, what he can still picture without issue is how Mother jolted up from her chair, letting her teacup break in a thousand pieces and spill onto the wooden board of the patio, as she ran to him, screaming his name in such a distorted way.

What ended up breaking through the haze and the cacophony of chest pains was her telling oh, my baby, just hold on. He was in too much suffering to really react in any other way than cry and let himself be cajoled, then dragged to a doctor whose face he doesn’t remember either. All that’s stuck with him was Mother pouring every tear in her body that day, the coldness of a stethoscope on his chest and the crestfallen looks of everyone around him.

Sometimes, he wonders if, that day, it wasn’t to herself that Mother was saying this – just hold on. Maybe it was her way to channel all of the worry and anguish that suddenly flared inside of her, her way to sustain the trauma this imposed onto her.

Maybe it wasn’t just for him, after all.

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

The second time this sentence was so important to him is only so in retrospect – back then, it was just yet another time someone was going to smother his freedom and send him back to square one, to prove he could sustain himself in basic air composition.

It started like every single time his life just got slightly worse: someone found out he had a heart condition that wasn’t going to be cured any time soon. There just was one key difference, this time, though: it wasn’t a grown-up that saw him knelt to the ground, clutching his chest and clenching his teeth.

No, it was a girl he hadn’t really gotten to know quiet yet: Musashi FC’s recently hired manager, Aoba Yayoi. She seemed nice enough, and he was the one to suggest her to the coach because they could use the help and she was interested in soccer (unlike most of his school), but that was kind of it. He really didn’t know much about her.

It came as a shock, to her, to see him in such an unsightly state; but she quickly found her footing again, surprisingly enough. For someone so unprepared, she had the reflex to tend to him and bring him not directly to the coach, but to the clubroom and then get the man. His present doctor self and her present registered nurse self would probably find that stupid, now, but back then, it meant she could understand his reasons as to why keep it secret.

Just hold on, Captain, she told him as she walked him to the clubroom, carrying him with his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

He’s pretty sure, by that point, that his parents had told him that sentence a hundred times over, for so many things that it stopped making much sense; but this one stands out to him because… well, it’s Yayoi. It’s the woman he ended up marrying, of course it stands out to him just because it’s her who said it. Maybe she could’ve told him something else and it’d have stuck with him as well.

There’s no need to ponder upon what didn’t happen, though, that much she’s made him clear to him and vice-versa.

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

The third time that this sentence etched itself onto his mind, it was during his very first real soccer match – the semifinals of Nationals, when he was (still) a twelve-year old boy oh so many people were idolizing him for some reason that he couldn’t entirely comprehend (and still can’t quite grasp it even now, why were people fawning over a twelve-year-old anyway?).

This was the grandiose finale he was going to show Father and Mother. This was his last showdown and he had carefully picked the brightest star to go around so, like a comet, he could burn away leaving a trail of light behind him.

It almost wasn’t, because Yayoi was too truthful and well-intentioned but overly clumsy about it, and Tsubasa wasn’t as strong in the mind as Jun thought he was. And even if it all went well in the end, gave the spectacle he was hoping for, praying for, the consequences are still here. They’ve been singed into his very core.

Nothing wrong with both of their reactions, in retrospect, because they were all children and very confused about how to handle his condition; but back then, it stung – it burned and burned like his heart as he ran around and tried to ignore everything that wasn’t going well with him. Everything about him was going to explode, at some point; but he wanted it to be on his own term.

The pain was atrocious, of course, and unlike anything he had experienced before; that was the one thing the gilded cage of his parents’ mansion had protected him from, after all. But he told himself to just hold on, because this was his way of going out, and he was going out with a bang. That’s all that mattered, for forty minutes or so.

His recklessness this day wasn’t enough to kill him, thankfully – but it almost came to be. It did teach him to persevere, that’s for sure; and, in some way, it’s this event that defined much of what he is today.

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

Oh, the fourth time it happened, it came from – it came from nowhere, actually. It was just a feeling that overwhelmed his body. It flowed from his thoughts down to his heart and then through his entire self, pulsing like his blood.

Just hold on. It’ll be over before you know it.

In fact, he’d go as far as to say the fourth time happened twice. Both times were so similar, it’s like a two-parter of sorts, with one time echoing the other, ripples in the vast sea that has always been his difficult relationship with being alive.

Just hold on. It’ll be worth it by the end, don’t let it slip.

There is, however, a major difference between both times.

The first time around, it was a selfish wish to face off against a formidable opponent again. He wanted to see Tsubasa again, so he had to beat Hyuga first, so he had to help out the team. He had to hold on so he could get to Nationals – and he didn’t.

The second time around, however, it really was just to help his team get over the threshold and qualify for the finals of a tournament that, back then, was truly going to be his last, at least for a long time, maybe forever. He had to hold on so they could do that, even if his heart was aching all the while – and they did. They won, twice over even.

That must’ve been the turning point in his life – the one thing that taught him to be patient with his body, with himself. It taught him to think of the others as well, now that he could channel both his frustration and his feelings into things much more positive. His ambition became that of helping others, instead of just helping himself by running away from people trying to protect him, to help him.

Considering he’s now a cardiologist of his own, he’d say it was a success, even if maybe the success was that he was still alive and very much kicking. Maybe that’s not a thing a lot of fifteen-year-old could say about themselves, but was he really any fifteen-year-old to begin with?

(Most people would say no).

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

The fifth time is a mixture of so many voices and hallucinations Jun isn’t sure of how to untangle that mess, even a decade later. He’s not even sure of what happened: did he die and was somehow brought back? Was that just a near-death experience?

Whatever it was, all he knows is that he once again heard someone tell him to hold on. The circumstances – in the middle of a match, in front of shut-down teammates and unheard audience – make it so he doubts it was anyone but himself.

Yet, the voices he heard weren’t really his. It was his family’s, of his teammates’, of old friends’, that of the woman he wanted to marry. So many people he trusted and who trusted him, telling him to hold on. That he couldn’t let it all end now.

So he got up to his feet, swallowed immense amounts of pain like people with healthy hearts would down a bottle of sake, and continued playing. Continued living. Made it out of the match, tournament, country – whatever. He saved himself.

It was a sort of wake-up call, at the end of the day: he was going to die before most other people because of a thing he barely had control over, and that just how things were, unfortunately, and he needed to be hasty about some things. He didn’t have time to maul over decisions and let opportunities pass by him, or maybe it’d be too late for him, and he’d die with only regrets and what-ifs in his head.

Perhaps this is how it had always been – or, actually, it was just part of the solution. He finally found the balance: live well without worrying too much about the far future, but still think ahead enough to know when to preserve himself and continue living as long as he could. Have fun, have tranquility. And this meant he had to do at least one thing before it was too late, while he could still speak…

He told himself he’d just hold on until the very end, got down to one knee with a little box in his hand, and finally proposed to the one who had stuck by his side for so long no matter how high the tide.

(Somehow, as crazy as he was, she said yes).

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

It’s bizarre for him not to be in the position of the one who’s hurting, Jun must admit. He’s so used to being the one on the operating or examination table, to have tools on his skin and inside of his body, that being on the chair next to the patient is just foreign to him, even now, even as he’s now a doctor himself.

Or perhaps it’s because he’s a medical professional now and standing there, unable to do much about a situation, isn’t part of his life anymore. There is no advice nor tool that he could use how to make things go faster for his own wife and it’s terrifying.

He has reasons to be worried, he has reasons not to be, and the constant switch between hot and cold is sickening. One moment he’s trying to smile, another he thinks Yayoi is clutching his hand too hard and it means she’s in trouble, and it may turn awry, because God knows births can go awry – his almost did, and if their child has inherited whatever he has, then it may be too late for them and – and then the midwife says she’s doing so well, and the cycle continues.

It’s very much not like himself to lose his composure like that, even if it’s just internal and, on the outside, he’s the reasonable husband who’s standing by his wife’s side at a moment of need. He should be taking the role so much more at heart than he is, at the moment, too; it’s a way to thank her for all of her deeds and show they’re in this together.

And there is perhaps one sentence he can use that would do the trick.

Just hold on, he tells her, it’ll be over before you know it.

It must be the first time in his life that he’s happy to hear someone cry.

#whumptober 2023 #no.14 #“just hold on” #captain tsubasa #fic #junyayo #unlike what it may seem i love this ship #i jsut think it's written like doodoo in canon #so it's my personal responsibility to handle it well #fly stop yassifying rising sun ch94 challenge (impossible)

[twinkodium]

first of all: another thong pic 😐 what did i do to deserve this 😐 about to write a fanfic about the reader breaking up with oscar bcs he has nasty feet 😮‍💨 imagine if you didn’t delete the foot screenshots tho 🤭🤭

we def need an oscar version of that charles pic!! would be used every day!!! but i would be ashamed to have it in my camera roll 🫣

i saw the post you reblogged about liam (the one about rb maybe keeping him off for 2024) and im just 😩 i genuinely do not understand this. really. it’s crazy. also the thing about keeping your drivers away is so stupid?? isnt the most important thing that they get experience ?? liam has been driving super formula and other series and so on and that’s great, but there are so many other reserve drivers & so on that just don’t get any experience 😩 idk why this part got so long lmao just getting my emotions out before work 😮‍💨

also i love waking up and scrolling through your posts on the subway in the morning and just getting a pic of oscar’s thighs on full display 🥰 like today it was quite crowded so people most likely saw me eyeing a pic of just legs and necc…. hope they read the tags too 😁😁

hope u have a great day sweets!!! <3

Aww babe don’t be dramatic, there is more to come 🤭 be prepared at any times 😉 OMG DO IT😂😂 amazing story line 😂😂 but I did, I’m smart enough not to have questionable pics in my camera roll… 🙃

You asked I deliver 😘

It took me awhile to type it and I hope there is no typos, I’ll not do it all over again 😂😂😂 it’d take them a while to read it through so it’s not that discriminating 🤭

Nothing is confirmed yet but he more likely ends up without a seat… I understand there are sponsors who want to keep Yuki and they’re holding onto Daniel because of his experience. But we also have Perez who does nothing, and even Oscar has more Q3 appearances than him who is driving a rocketship…. Liam is their best choice for a potential open seat tho, already has the experience with the car and doing amazing. So I find it stupid they still want to push him to the side and keep him there for another year… wish there was a chance that he can pull an Oscar and sign with another team but pretty much the whole grid is confirmed by now😐 rbr might have the most juniors in their academy program but not many of them getting the chance and support to make it into f1 😐

You’re reading my blog in the morning like someone reads their newspaper at the breakfast table 🥺🥺🥺 you’re so cute 🥹 I’d never disappoint, you’ll always find some sexy Oscar content here 🤭 OMg imagine if they did see and read my nasty tags over your shoulder 🫣🫣🫣 yikes 😬😬 one time the IT guy at work had seen all my Oscar pics that I store on Google drive 🙈 I was standing next to me desk with the ‘😐’ expression 😂😂😂 NEVER ASKING FOR HELP if my personal Google drive is involved!!

Hope you had a wonderful day sweetie 🫶🏼🫶🏼

#asks #Jackie 🧡 #buttercup 🥰 #if someone has a foot pic of Oscar pls send it over Jackie would like to see it 😉 #and who am i to deny it? 🫶🏼 #im still furious about the Liam rumours #what else do you want from him? #put him in an rbr and let’s see what he can do against max alright? #he’d surely beat perez 🫣 #you better use the glorious Oscar pic now🫶🏼 #also very cute of you going through my blog every morning 🥺🥺🥺🥺 #i feel so special 🥰🥰 #daily discussion with Jackie about Oscar and Liam 🥰

[sylvest01nicholson]

The Bedding Of Selection For Elizabeth Taylor And Coco Chanel Is Back On The Market

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[therealvinelle]

Ok I'm embarrassed to admit this, but I'm just now copying your Norwegian Bella AU into a text translator, and if you don't already have 50 people in your inbox demanding a translation then shame on ALL OF US because this is glorious! And while Google Translate does have a certain charm (it translated "piper hun ut" as "she beeps") I'm curious to see how you'd put it in English.

Troquantary is referring to this post. In which Bella doesn't speak English.

Fun fact, you're the only one who's gone into my inbox to request this. I was so sad, had the translation half-written and everything, but I was too proud to beg. So thank you, Troquantary, for popping this ask.

As for the dictionary fuckups, sounds about right. I made a few typos, too, that made Google Translate suffer even more. (Such as managing to mix up "henne" (her) and "hendene" (hands), resulting in Aro patting Bella instead of clapping his hands. Poor Google.)

Also, there are a few cultural references and language things that would be lost in the translation, in an attempt to keep them I included notes clarifying things.

Some things, like Aro and Carlisle's very old man way of speaking, are easier said than done to translate, you'll have to bear with me there.

Additional notes are that I added a few things to this version, many of them because translating is hard, but a few because while translating I thought "oh you know what would be much funnier-" and then wrote that.

Alright, without further ado:

When Renée left Charlie she did not go to Florida, she went to Oslo. And she went all in to make her daughter a true Norwegian, hiring Norwegian nannies and making sure never to speak English around the child. Since transatlantic flights are expensive, little Bella Swan rarely got to visit her father, and as such she never did learn what should have been her native language.

She quickly forgot what English she did have in favor of Norwegian, with the exception of words like “Yes”, “No”, and “I’m Bella”.

The few trips she took to visit her father were all the more awkward than in canon since she couldn’t play with the Black kids. Let not the blame fall upon Charlie: he took Norwegian classes and speaks conversational Norwegian. He can’t speak to Renée, because her Norwenglish is incomprehensible even to Norwegians, but he can communicate with Bella.

Not that he’s had a lot of chances to do so.

Bella makes it to seventeen years old, she’s in second grade at Handels* and is a major outsider among the preps there, and then Renée marries a handsome skier**. Together they shall travel the continent all winter to participate in as many skiing races as they can, and in the summer they’ll take gigs at Hurtigruta to see the coast.

*“Handels” is the nickname for an Oslo high school infamous for its pupils being rich and beautiful blonds who are going to be CEOs when they grow up.

**Skiing as a sport is huge in Norway

***Hurtigruta is a famous ferry that travels across the Norwegian West coast

Bella, who sucks at skiing and is too young to work at Hurtigruten, takes the hint.

With dread in her stomach and dictionary in hand she goes to her father in America.

Where she doesn’t speak the language.

Faen.

Charlie gives her a car, and I wish this meta was set in the present because I could have joked about electric cars and the automat only driver’s license*, but Twilight is set in 2005 so I can’t. The car part proceeds without drama.

*An increasing number of Norwegian youth take the driver’s license for automatic cars only, and we’re the country in the world with the highest percentage of electric car purchases.

School is worse than in canon, because she is now a thousand times more sensational than if she was merely the new student. She is from another country! All of Forks keels over with excitement.

To make matters even worse, our girl doesn’t understand a word of what people are saying.

She is too awkward to let them know she doesn’t know English. It’d become a thing, and they might think she’s dumb. To be fair, it’s not good that she’s been through primary, secondary, and now a year and a half of high school and still sucks at English.

So she nods, smiles, mumbles “Hi, I’m Bella” to the new faces, and blushes heavily when anybody says anything.

People assume she’s shy. That’s a bit boring, but oh well.

She has her biology class with the redhead hottie she noticed during lunch. She watched him and his family, they were fascinatingly pretty, but she doesn’t know anything more about them. Sure would have been great if she could have asked the tiny girl (was it Jess?) about them.

Biology proceeds as in canon - Edward badly wants to eat the delicious girl, but fortunately doesn’t.

She runs into him in the office when he tries to switch to another biology lesson, but she has no idea what he’s saying so she only has the suspicion that this somehow concerns her. Which is still uncomfortable, but Bella is probably the problem here. The hottie surely can’t be.

He’s missing from school for a week, Bella finds that weird.

He returns, and to her great horror he starts talking to her.

“Hello”, he says.

Bella dies inside. He’s too handsome!

"I'm Edward Cullen," he continues, and ok, she got that. The hottie is called Edward, that’s good to know. She’s not sure she caught that last name, though, Köln?

He says something else, it’s gibberish to Bella even though she’s concentrating, and at the end there he says “Bella Swan”.

She gulps.

"I'm Bella Swan," she confirms and nods. That should be correct. God, she hopes it’s correct.

He smiles a crooked, boyish smile. She’s awed. She didn’t think it was possible to be so beautiful.

He says something else.

Bella didn’t catch it.

She blushes even harder, she hasn’t been more embarrassed in her life. Here he is, the most handsome guy in all the world, and she has nothing to say to him. Literally, they don’t speak the same language.

She should tell him.

It’s one thing to chicken out of telling the town she doesn’t speak English, but there’s something different about Edward Cullen. He deserves the truth.

But...

He’s the most beautiful person she has seen in her life. He is American, too, so the odds of him knowing Norwegian are microscopical. If he finds out she doesn’t understand a word he says he’ll stop talking to her, and selfish as she is she doesn’t want that.

So with a slightly guilty conscience (but not enough to fess up) she contributes to the conversation with enough words and smiles to pull through. "Yes", "No", "Thank you", and "That's nice".

He is surprised by several of these answers, but instead of giving her odd looks and losing interest he grows more invested in the conversation.

Class ends.

The next day the near accident happens, and he saves her. She is stunned - dear god, did he just pick up a whole car? After teleporting across the parking lot..?

Soon she’s in the ER, and more than a little bit stressed about that fact since she knows the Americans have a terrible healthcare system.

She hopes Charlie has an insurance.

An insanely beautiful man walks into the ER, and Bella is shocked. He is just as handsome as Edward and Edward’s lunch friends!

He introduces himself as Carlisle Cullen, and Bella can only assume this is someone’s older brother. Possibly related to the blonde girl.

He smiles at her, says something, and she answers, "I'm Bella Swan."

He frowns.

That must have been the wrong answer, then.

His hands return to investigating her scalp, and to her great surprise he switches to perfect Norwegian, "kjenner De* noe ubehag når jeg holder her?" Do you feel any discomfort when I touch here?

*De is the Norwegian polite pronoun for “you”. Du = thou = the French tu, and De = you = the French vous. These polite pronouns went out of use in the 1980’s, save for when addressing royal persons, and would be considered antiquated in 2005.

He hurries to add, "Norsk lærte jeg i... fjor sommer. Det var et nettkurs." I learned Norwegian… last year. Online class.

"Hvilket da?" Which one? Bella asks, because Charlie needs to hear about this. The doctor has beautiful, if slightly outdated, pronunciation.

The doctor’s smile turns uncertain. She gets the feeling there’s something he doesn’t want to say. "Husker ikke," I don’t remember, sier han etter en litt vel lang pause.

That’s a shame. And weird.

"De hadde hellet med Dem i dag, som ikke ble truffet av den bilen." You were lucky today, not getting hit by that car. he then says, noticeably changing the subject.

"Det var ikke hell, det var Edward," It wasn’t luck, it was Edward, she replies sharply.

The doctor definitely looks uncomfortable.

She continues, "Han krysset skolegården på et blunk, og plukket opp hele bilen. Jeg så det," He crossed the schoolyard in a moment, and picked up the whole car. I saw it,

The doctor laughs. "Om han kunne det hadde nok gymkarakteren hans vært meget bedre. Nei, frøken Swan*, jeg beklager å si at det høres ut som at De er litt omtåket. Det er helt normalt ved hjernerystelse." If he could do that, his PE grade would be a lot better. No, Miss Swan, I’m sorry to say you seem confused. That’s normal with concussions.

*Addressing a young woman as “frøken” is even more outdated than using polite pronouns.

Why does Bella get the feeling he’s lying?

She’s discharged.

We’ll jump ahead to her trip to La Push - that trip uneventful, since Jacob knows she doesn’t speak English. They stick their hands in their pockets and stare at the sea.

The next day she’s shanghaied to Port Angeles, because apparently she said “Yes” at the wrong time when talking to Jessica (Turns out Jess’s name was Jessica!) and accidentally said yes to a day trip to Port Angeles.

Like in canon she wanders away from the others, and as in canon she is nearly gang raped. And again as in canon she is saved at the last moment by Edward.

He buys her dinner, and she can’t believe her own luck- and misfortune. A date with the most handsome guy on the planet (hence the luck) and she can’t say a word to him (hence the misfortune)!

He says things to her, lends her his jacket, and really this is it for Bella, she’s peaked, life can’t get better than this.

(That’s a lie, it would be better if she spoke English.)

He’s so amazing.

She’s gotten pretty good at navigating conversations with him, so she nods and aha’s her way through.

In his car on the way home the tone takes a more serious turn.

He asks her about something, and it’s a serious question, that much she’s gathered. She answers in the confirmative.

He is silent.

Did she say anything wrong?

(Edward, on his end, just asked if she knows what he is. She said yes, so calmly, not even a trace of fear in her.)

A few days later he takes her out on a walk in the woods.

He shows her a meadow in the woods, and when he steps into it he lights up in the sunlight.

Bella is in shock.

She knew there was something different about him, but- holy cow. This guy isn’t human.

Is she dating a god?

She stumbles into the clearing after him, and they spend a day together where he says things, and she can barely hear any of it (nevermind understand it) because she’s so distracted by how pretty he is.

The next day he takes her to a house in the middle of nowhere. She doesn’t want to guess that this can be where he lives. Surely gods don’t live in houses?

He shows her inside the house, and introduces her for Dr. Cullen and a lady with a name she doesn’t catch.

Bit weird that these two are acting like a couple of parents, they’re far too young and divine for that.

Edward shows her around in an old-fashioned office, and she doesn’t know what to make of i when she sees a painting of Carlisle. Edward launches into a long story when he sees her watching it, unfortunately she doesn’t catch any dates or artist names. At one point she heard the word “suicide”, though, and that’s not good.

She doesn’t get much out of the story.

The baseball game doesn’t happen because Bella didn’t pick up on what Edward wanted and didn’t realize she was being invited to a thing. They spend the afternoon watching a movie instead.

The relationship continues, impeded slightly by communication problems, but she’s mostly able to cover those up.

Until her birthday comes around.

She gets a papercut.

Jasper lunges at her. Edward throws her into a glass table, and then everyone is leaving.

Carlisle is kind enough to switch to Norwegian when he’s stitching up her arm, perhaps remembering the last time she was his patient. "Jasper har ikke vært på dietten vår så veldig lenge." Jasper hasn’t been on our diet for very long.

"Diett?"she asks. She’s never seen Edward eat anything. She wasn’t clear on what the Cullens ate, honestly she thought they were above such things. She was thinking maybe photosynthesis. The knowledge that they apparently eat food astounds her, but diets?

"Dyreblod istedenfor menneskeblod," Animal blood in stead of human blood, Carlisle clarifies.

Whachasay?

Carlisle gives a slight smile. “Jaspers liv som vampyr fikk en brutal start." Jasper’s life as a vampire got off to a brutal start.

...

Vampire?!

Bella’s missed something here.

Oh dear lord, oh fy faen, she has missed something.

“Åja”, uh huh, is all she can say, and suddenly she’s very aware of the fact that she’s sitting there with a bleeding arm.

And Carlisle.

Who is a vampire.

Over the course of the following conversation Bella makes a host of discoveries.

Edward has been a vampire this whole time, and he’s a telepathic vampire. Whether Bella should be a vampire too or not has been a matter of hot debate, but due to religious reasons Edward doesn’t want that.

Carlisle also brings up how Edward died of the Spanish flu.

"Jeg var under den oppfatning at Edward fortalte deg bakhistorien min?" I was under the impression Edward told you my back story? Carlisle asks at one point, and Bella just has to ask very nicely if he’d be so kind as to repeat it.

Turns out the guy is nearly four hundred years old.

Jaha.

Jahahaha jaa ha.

That’s… a lot.

She wanders out of the house in shock, and hardly notices Edward’s strange behavior over the next couple of days.

One day he picks her up at school, and takes her behind the house.

That works out.

He’s a vampire, but he never hurt her. He is endlessly beautiful, perhaps easier to love now that she knows he’s not a god. He’s her Edward, and that’s suddenly easier now that she knows.

They can still be together.

But now that she knows this about him, it’s about time he knows something about her as well.

It’s time to finally be honest with him.

So when he opens his mouth, she opens her mouth as well, but she doesn’t get any further than to “Edward-” before he launches into a monologue.

She’ll have to wait until he’s done before saying her piece. It’s a bit embarrassing, but it doesn’t seem like he intends to stop talking anyway.

And what he’s saying seems to be serious, so it’s probably best to let him finish.

Edward concludes his monologue by kissing her forehead. Then he disappears.

Where did he go?

A big unsure, Bella goes back to the house. She’ll just have to wait until he gets back.

She doesn’t know what to think when Charlie returns from work and tells her the Cullens have all left.

Oh, god.

Edward must have found out she doesn’t speak English.

She made a mockery of him.

He has every right to leave.

Knowing this doesn’t make it any easier to live with.

Bella sinks into a depression.

The hallucinations begin, as in canon, though Hallusinward speaks Norwegian. Thank god for small mercies.

The friendship with Jacob (dictionary in hand) blooms, as someone has to help her see those hallucinations.

The cliff diving happens, and Alice shows up. Bella’s not sure what this is about, but she has gotten good enough at English to know that something bad happened, and Alice wants them to do something.

She’s a bit surprised to find herself on a plane to Italy, though.

Alice tells her to “Run to Edward” and ok, she got that, actually.

So she saves Edward.

After that she’s taken into the sewer, which turns out to house dozens of vampires.

Bella, Edward, and Alice are received in some kind of hall, where an unusual vampire has quite a bit to say. She understands some of what he’s saying, at least the part about “la tua cantante”. She knows a bit about Italian, see, so she knows that he’s talking about a song now.

She wishes she knew the context.

At one point he takes her hand, and appears fascinated by it. She wonders if he’s a palmreader. Not very vampirey, but what does she know.

He asks her a question.

"Yes," she says.

Saying yes has gotten her this far, after all.

But when he lights up and claps his hands together, and Edward and Alice stare at her in shock and betrayal, she knows she must have said the wrong thing.

The two are dismissed from the room before Bella can do or say anything, she’s just listening to Edward make a racket outside in the hallway.

Not good.

The unusual vampire brings her further down in his sewer palace to a basement, and she is given comfortable clothes to wear.

This is getting terrifying.

The vampire leans towards her - and she chickens out.

"Jeg snakker ikke engelsk!" she squeaks. "Non habla ingles!" I don’t speak English.

Han stanser, og ser forvirret ut. "Que- Hva behager*?" I beg your pardon? spør han etter et øyeblikk.

*A very formal, and slightly outdated (you can use it, but people will think you’re putting on airs. And they will be right) way of saying “excuse me?”

Sobbing, Bella tells him the whole story, from how she didn’t want to be the weird kid in school to how she’s now somehow in Italy without knowing why nor what she just agreed to.

When she’s done the vampire starts laughing.

"Dette forklarer jo en hel del," This explains quite a bit, ler han. "Men, kjære Bella, jeg er redd det ikke endrer noe." But, my dear Bella, I’m afraid it changes nothing.

He tells her that she has agreed to serve him and his army of undead warriors into eternity.

Well fuck.

"Du skal få slippe det, når du ikke visste hva du samtykket til - men skjebnen din forblir den samme. Loven er loven." You’re released from that promise, as you didn’t know what you agreed to - but your fate remains the same. The law is the law.

After a moment of silence, during which she looks terrified, he hurries to add, "Vi har en lov. Du må bli en av oss." We have a law. You must become one of us.

A law that Bella Swan has to become a vampire?

People are finally speaking Norwegian, and Bella is still lost. And it’s too embarrassing to keep pestering this poor, polite man with questions.

So she nods.

He gives her a glittering smile, and bites her.

When she wakes, Aro offers her an English course. A language course that, naturally, leads to her staying in Volterra. Why not learn a few more languages while we’re at it, dearest Bella?

Some time later Edward breaks into Volterra to save his Rapunzel, only to barely recognize her now that she’s a vampire who says things. Lots of things, she talks all the time now. WHAT DID ARO DO TO HER.

Too mortified to admit that she never spoke English, Bella claims she’s been brainwashed.

Aro is having too much fun to correct her, and the whole sad affair sets off a regrettable flood of rumors.

#troquantary #norwegian things #bella swan #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #evighetens kyss #evighetens kyss meta #evighetens kyss renessanse

[spookiekewchie]

Prove a Point

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Ransom Drysdale x black!reader

Summary: What happens when Ransom's words aren't taken seriously? He makes sure to prove his point to you, and the poor idiot that you had the nerve to go on a date with.

Read THE INTERN

Word Count: 4.6k+

Warnings: Ransom is bit dark and possessive in this one, kidnapping, potentially dubcon, forced cuckolding, oral (m receiving), drooling, fingering (blink and you miss it), Ransom's filthy mouth, unprotected sex (p in v), use of a knife, threats (not against reader), nicknames (sweetheart, ransom get's called daddy once), sir kink

A/N:  It's DAY FIVE OF KINKTOBER and I really wanted to revisit these two, the idea I had in mind really lent itself to some cuckolding sooooo here we are. This could be considered dark so pay attention to the warnings, and know that you are responsible for your own media consumption. Anyways, all mistakes are mine so pardon any errors or typos I'm sure I missed a few. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

You’d done what you promised yourself, you’d gone on your date that Ransom had made you miss. You’d had to take a sick day just to avoid the man, but in your mind it was worth it to not only inconvenience him but also do the exact opposite of what you knew he wanted from you. The only problem was that your date wasn’t going as great as you thought it should have been. For one Bryce looked a little too similar to Ransom for you to truly appreciate his good looks, and then there was the background. A rich grandfather, and a ridiculous inheritance that he was set to get when the old man died. God you could have rolled your eyes at how you just had to end up with the one man that not only resembled Ransom but also came from money and had a silver spoon shoved up his ass.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more insufferable a shadow fell over your table. You looked up, and there stood Linda Drysdale with a smirk on her face and looking like the cat that caught the canary. “Oh dear, I stopped by the office today and Ransom told me you’d called out sick. Maybe he was mistaken, because you certainly don’t look sick.” She looked over to Bryce then, a look of recognition on her features and a somewhat sour expression flitting over them. “Bryce.” It was a clipped greeting, and he didn’t seem too pleased to see her either. Whatever beef there was between them though you were determined to stay out of it, so when Linda finally turned on her heel to leave you didn’t question it. You did mentally kick yourself when you saw her fishing her phone out of her purse on her way out the door though.

She was probably going to call Ransom and tattle on you in hopes that he’d fire you. The woman never did like you, something about how much Harlan liked you, and enjoyed your company had her feeling threatened. The woman acted like you were trying to steal her father, you rolled your eyes at the thought and forced yourself to at least try to enjoy the rest of your date with Bryce.

Bryce who looked like a slightly younger, slimmer, and less experienced version of Ransom.

It was going to be a long night, and suddenly you were ready for it to be over.

Two hours later you were standing awkwardly at your car, attempting to bid Bryce a good night when you caught sight of a panel van pulling up, the door sliding open, and two men in all black rushing the pair of you. You didn’t have time to react before someone was hitting Bryce over the head to knock him out before grabbing you up so that they could throw both of you into the back of the van. You put up a fight until they wrangle you and tie your wrists and ankles, then came the blindfold and you had no choice but to sit still and hope that you’d be okay. Selfishly you didn’t care much what happened to Bryce, for all you knew he was the target and you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It felt like an hour went by before the van came to stop, and you could hear Bryce groaning softly as he began to stir. You were carried inside of a building, walked up some steps, and sat on something soft, it almost felt like a bed and that gave you another reason to worry, you could hear Bryce nearby and had to assume that he was left in the room with you. Time ticked by slowly, and you tried to keep up with the minutes but fear was gripping you too tightly to focus. “What the fuck is going on?” You questioned to no one in particular.

“I don’t fucking know.” That was Bryce speaking and your head turned in the direction his voice was strongest in. “Hey are you okay? They didn’t hurt you did they?” He questioned, and it sounded like he was struggling with something.

“Of course they didn’t fucking hurt her, you were the only one they were allowed to rough up.” It sounded like someone new had entered the room. Bryce cursed under his breath, suddenly spitting insults as if he knew who was holding the two of you captive. It took you a second, but you realized that you knew this man’s voice and you scoffed, suddenly very confused and very annoyed.

“Ransom?” It couldn’t be, why the hell would he have you and Bryce snatched off the street like that, and why would he...oh wait. “Ransom you untie me right now!” You demanded, and you could hear the huff of his laughter and the shuffle of his steps as he neared you. Something cold and metal slid between your bound wrists and the sound of rope being cut filled your ears before you were able to move your hands. The first thing you did was rip the blindfold away, and then next was to untie your ankles in a rush. “What the fuck is going-” You shut up when he whirled around, a knife in hand and a glare on his pretty face.

“I thought I made it clear that you were mine, and that you weren’t going on any dates with this idiot.”

Your mouth went dry, was he serious? You’d honestly thought he was just talking shit that night in his office, but clearly you had misjudged just how serious Ransom had been. “Excuse me?” You snapped, flinching back when you heard the bitter laughter that rushed out of Ransom. “Ransom you can’t be serious, this is ridiculous. Just...just let us go, and we can all pretend that you didn’t have us kidnapped just so you could go on an ego trip and prove a point.” Even in the face of danger you couldn’t resist snapping at Ransom, and for the briefest of moments you saw amusement flashing in those brilliant blue eyes of his before they darkened.

“You really want to test me right now? I told you that you were mine, and I fucking meant it. You think I won’t slit this prick’s throat right here to show you how serious I am?” Ransom moved to stand close enough to Bryce’s bound form that all it would take was a slash of his wrist and Bryce would be no more. Eyes wide you jumped up from the bed, taking a tentative step towards an angry Ransom who was focused entirely on Bryce who looked a mixture of fearful and pissed off.

“Ransom…” Nothing. “Ransom, please.” Still nothing. You huffed, worry coursing through you that if you didn’t shift the brunets focus soon you’d have to be witness to a murder. Something you really didn’t feel like dealing with. Swallowing your pride you tried again, this time with a different name. “Hugh.”

That got his attention, Ransom’s head whipping towards you with a curious interest shining in his eyes. “You’re right, I shouldn’t be testing you right now.” He narrowed his eyes as you spoke, letting you step in close enough that he could smell the scent of your perfume clinging to your skin. “And I shouldn’t have gone on that date with him.” You conceded, watching as Ransom took a step away from Bryce and put himself more in your space.

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

“It was a waste of time, I realized that fifteen minutes in. All night long I was just sitting there comparing him to you, and thinking how I should have left the second I laid eyes on him. I was never going to fuck him, I already knew he’d just disappoint me.” You admitted, ignoring your own frustration at the fact that it was true and not something you had ever intended on telling Ransom. But it seemed to work, because Bryce was getting offended and the more upset Bryce got at your words the more Ransom preened knowing that in your eyes the younger trust fund prick just couldn’t compare.

“Put the knife down, and I’ll show you just how sorry I am for not listening to you.” Your fingers dropped to his hips, fingers slowly working to undo his pants while you leaned in to whisper against his lips. “And then you can show him why he can’t ever compare with you.” Predictably, Ransom let the knife fall to the ground so that he could grab you by the hips and yank you into his body. His lips claimed yours in a messy, possessive kiss that has Bryce angrily cursing at the two of you as he tried to free himself from the chair that Ransom had him bound to. It only got worse when your hand slipped down the front of Ransom’s undone pants to stroke him until he was hardening in your grip.

Ransom broke the kiss, chest heaving just slightly and his pupils blown wide with lust as he looked down at you with a wicked smirk curling onto his plush lips. “On your knees, sweetheart.” He ordered, tone soft and almost sweet in contrast to just how tightly and possessively he was holding onto you. You made to move but a strong hand caught your chin and forced your gaze back onto Ransom’s. “What do you say?”

It took you more strength than you knew you had to swallow your pride down even more and fix your mouth to say the words that you knew Ransom wanted to hear. “Yes, sir.” You bit out, dropping to your knees once he let go of your chin.

“Pay attention Bryce. Maybe you’ll learn something.” Ransom taunted, hissing out a breath a moment later when he felt your tongue dragging along the underside of his length. The brunet towering over you let his gaze drink you in as he finally got to experience what wonder’s your mouth could do other than cursing him out, and telling him every little thing he did to irritate you. Ransom found that he much preferred your mouth full of his cock, the feeling of you sucking shallowly at his tip already making him want to rock his hips forward to make you take more of him. He held off for now, letting you use a hand to stroke his cock while you reared back just enough to spit on it. The mixture of your saliva and his precum was spread over him by your hand while you took him back into your mouth, big brown eyes peering up to meet Ransom’s pretty blues when you moaned around him. For the moment Bryce was an afterthought, but you remained vaguely aware of his presence because of the angered struggling and the spitting of insults.

You weren’t sure what was angering the trust fund baby more, your words, Ransom’s taunting, or the fact the pair of you were ignoring him while making him watch the lewd scene. Honestly he should be thanking you, obviously Ransom had been ready to slit his throat just to remove him from the equation all together. It was your quick thinking that spared him. Internally you rolled your eyes, men were always so ungrateful. Either way, if Bryce were going to sit there and spit venom at you, then you’d just have to let him get a good look at what he’d never get to experience for himself.

You took more Ransom into your mouth, Your hand slipping from his shaft to cup his sack so that your fingers could tease and massage him. The strained curse that came out of his mouth would have made you smirk if yours were so full. Letting it serve as motivation you let your head bob further down, tongue flattening against the underside of his cock to make more room for him in your mouth.

“Damn, sweetheart. You’re doing so good that poor Bryce over there’s getting hard.” Ransom’s eyes left yours to land on Bryce, the smirk on the older brunet’s lips was nothing short of cruel as Bryce demanded to be untied. Ransom let him stay right where he was, reaching down to tangle his fingers in your dark curls. He bucked his hips against your mouth, making you gag in protest when you felt him threatening to breach your throat. You attempted to pull back, but Ransom’s grip on your hair loosened so he could instead press a large hand against the back of your head. He fucked into your mouth then, making you gag and drool around his length as he used your mouth as he pleased. You wanted to hate it, the whole situation was fucked and you knew that, but you could feel the way your pussy ached to be filled by him again. The fact that you could feel Bryce’s heated glare on you the whole while only made your clit throb, and you desperately wanted to slip your fingers under your dress to do something about it. Your fingers drifted between your legs, but the moment Ransom saw that he dragged you off of his cock with a hard pull on your curls. “No you don’t, you don’t touch my sweet little cunt unless I say so.”

You wanted to protest, but before your mouth could fire off some scathing comment he had it full again. Growling around him only served to give him more pleasure, and you just found yourself more frustrated. Your hands moved to grip against the fabric of his pants, your knees dug into the soft carpet as you squirmed and tried to alleviate some of the needy ache that you felt, it didn’t help and it left you groaning in frustration around the man’s cock. An ache started to form in your jaw, and you whined, reaching up with a hand massage his sack again, this time with every intention of wanting to make him cum so you could give your jaw a rest.

Ransom didn’t let you end things so quickly though, pulling you back again so he could take a moment to admire the mess of smeared lip gloss and drool dripping from your mouth and onto the swell of your breasts. “Fuck, look at you. You’re a mess, sweetheart.” Something about the way he said it was sweet and you surprised yourself with the burst of laughter that erupted out of you when you shifted your hand from his balls to grip around his cock and stroke him. You were on autopilot now, your own lust winning out over your ego and pride. You needed that ache to be filled, and if you had to play Ransom’s game to get that then you would. Never mind the pissed off trust fund playboy currently hissing at you about how much of a slut you were.

“I want you to cum in my mouth, please.” You didn’t bother hiding the needy tone of your voice, smirking at the calming breath Ransom had to take at hearing you. Leaning forward you gave his tip a few kitten licks before wrapping your lips around him again, and then, ever so gently you let your teeth graze over him. Ransom clearly hadn’t been anticipating such a dirty little trick from you, and the sensation sent him over the edge with a drawn out moan as his spend filled your mouth while you sucked him for every drop of it.

“Shit...open your mouth, lemme see.” He ordered through panting breaths, gripping you by the jaw. You opened your mouth, letting him see his spend coating your tongue, and made no protests when he turned your head to give Bryce a nice look as well. “Swallow, sweetheart.” And you do, licking your lips a moment later with a shrug at Bryce’s look of disbelief. His anger had worn off, and now he was just stewing and trying to figure out why he hadn’t gotten this side of you. “Aww, look at him. He doesn’t know if he’s horny or angry.” Ransom was taunting him again, and Bryce’s glare was back in full force, but the obvious bulge straining against the front of his pants confirmed that Ransom was right. “Imagine how pissed he’s gonna be having to sit there and watch me fuck you.”

One second you were on your knees and the next, Ransom had hauled you up and tossed you onto the bed with little effort. He stripped you out of your clothes, tossing them this way and that before all but ripping your bra and panties in two so that he could get his hands on your bare body. Two thick digits pushed into you without warning, pumping into you and making you writhe against the expensive sheets of Ransom’s bed. You already knew that he could take you apart, but this time he could take his time and he made sure to drag out the moment and not let you cum right away. It was torture for you, but it was also torture for Bryce to watch because the longer Ransom dragged this out the longer Bryce was stuck there impossibly hard and unable to free himself.

It was exactly what Ransom wanted, and when he made you cum around on his fingers he just couldn’t help but leave the bed to stalk over to Bryce so he could smear your essence over the other male’s lips with a cruel smirk. “Enjoy it you pathetic cuck, it’s the closest you’ll ever get to my girl’s pussy.”

You probably shouldn’t have found the sight of Bryce’s tongue darting out to try and sneakily lick the taste of you from his lips, but between that and the sight of Ransom undressing at the end of the bed you were too worked up to care. Biting down on your bottom lip you took the time to openly let your gaze rake over Ransom’s naked form. Those damn sweaters really did him no justice, you thought to yourself. “Damn...I really need you inside me.” You breathed out, eyes glancing over to a silent and fuming Bryce. “C'mon, show him how well I take you.” You’d like to say you were still just playing Ransom’s game, but there was some twisted sense of pleasure in making Bryce sit there and watch what he couldn’t have.

Perhaps you and Ransom were better suited than you wanted to admit.

Ransom grinned at your words, grabbing you by the ankle to yank you closer to him so that he could crawl over you and slot himself between your spread thighs. A glance to your left let you know that Bryce would be able to see your face clearly, and you could only assume that was exactly what Ransom wanted. You were willing to bet money that, that was the reason why Ransom took his time pushing into you and drew out the moment. That first feeling of his cock stretching you around him had your back arching off the bed, and your mouth falling open with a drawn out moan as you tried to angle your hips to make him sink deeper into you. “Feels good doesn’t it,” you could only nod. “See Bryce, you never stood a fucking chance.” Ransom chuckled, hips snapping into you to draw a breathless cry out of you before he set a rhythm that easily turned you into a mess of moans and begging for more.

It didn’t take him long at all to have you feeling that coil tightening in the pit of your belly again. You nails dragged down his muscled arms, your half lidded gaze meeting his own lust blown stare. You knew he could tell you were close, the way you squeezed and fluttered around him told him everything and you thought for a moment he’d make you beg for it. Instead he slipped a hand between your sweaty slicked bodies to slide his fingers against your clit. That first touch had you seeing stars, hips bucking under him though you weren’t sure if it was an effort to get away or to get more. “God…’m so close, please Ransom.” His fingers sped up, the quick circles he drew over your throbbing bud working quickly to make that coil in your belly twist until it finally snapped and you felt the intense wave of pleasure overtaking you.

Ransom’s hips stuttered at the feeling of you clamping down around him, forcing him to rut into you harder as he dragged out the moment of your release until you weren’t sure if it was the same climax or if it had blended into the next. He smirked, watching you pant and writhe for him before he finally let his fingers fall away so he could fall forward until he was hovering close enough to press his damp forehead against yours. “Tell him who you belong to, sweetheart.” He muttered. You knew you’d told him earlier that you’d had no intention of fucking Bryce, but it was like Ransom still had a primal need to show the other man why. You could hardly complain when Ransom was fucking you that good, and giving your body exactly what it craved.

You whined, head turning to the side to let your teeth bite down against Ransom’s flexed bicep hard enough to make him snap his hips into your harder. “Fuck...you do, you daddy.” You were too cockdrunk to even realize what you’d just called him, but Ransom and Bryce both heard it.

“You hear that you fuckin’ cuck, she’s all mine.” Ransom had said, aiming a vicious smirk at Bryce as he began to rail into you hard. “Daddy huh?” He returned his attention to you, only to find you too fucked out to even really hear him. “Think I like the sound of that.” He grunted, spearing into you harder as his pace grew more frantic the closer he came to his own release.

Everything was a dull roar in your ears, body simply riding out the pleasure and bliss until Ransom reached his end and filled you with his spend. He stayed like that for a moment after, resting a fraction of his weight on top of you while his cock softened inside of you until slowly he pulled out of you. He chuckled at your whine of discontent at his cock leaving you, but then he moved you again, turning you so that Bryce could see Ransom’s cum dripping out of your used pussy. “Take a nice long look Bryce, last time you’re gonna get to see my girl’s perfect little pussy.”

You were too tired to tell Ransom to quit it, and everything after that was a blur. You vaguely remember seeing Bryce being untied and shoved out of the room by Ransom, then there was something damp and warm between your thighs wiping at your folds. You thought it was Ransom cleaning you up, but you were too tired to investigate. Soon enough you drifted off to sleep, leaving Ransom to finish doing whatever it was he was doing before he finally settled into the bed beside you.

The sound of birds chirping annoyingly outside woke you in the morning, and for a brief moment you panicked when you didn’t recognize your surroundings. Then the events of the prior night began to flood in and you could only groan and drag yourself from the bed. Searching for your purse you grabbed it up off the floor and padded into the bathroom to pull out the travel toothbrush you had packed just in case. You were midway through brushing your teeth when you noticed that your makeup had been removed, and your brow furrowed in confusion. Why the hell would Ransom bother with removing your makeup for you? You shrugged it off, telling yourself that he simply didn’t want to get makeup on his overpriced sheets. After that you grabbed a quick shower, and after you’d dried off you went rifling through the man’s closet for a sweater to throw on.

You plan had been to find the kitchen, but something glinting on the carpeted floor caught your attention. You bent down to pick it up, realizing it was the knife that Ransom had threatened Bryce with the night before. A frown fixed itself on your face when you let it settle in your hand. It wasn’t as heavy as you thought it would be, and something about it just felt off. Curious, you touched your finger to the tip a couple of times to confirm that you weren’t losing your mind. Once you were convinced you stood and made it a mission to find Ransom. If the smell of coffee and sounds coming from downstairs were anything to go by, that's where he’d be. Quietly you crept down the stairs, following the scent of coffee until you were standing at the edge of the kitchen and staring at Ransom’s bareback while he stood there pouring the dark bitter liquid into a mug. Clearing your throat you did your best to ignore the fact that he was shirtless with only a pair of low slung sweats covering him.

“I was wondering when you were going to wake the fuck up.” He greeted, making you roll your eyes as you silently moved closer to him with the knife still in hand and hidden in the too long sleeve of his sweater. You said nothing back, still frowning at him and to his credit he had the good sense to look confused for a moment. Your hand lifted, pulling the sleeve up to reveal the knife from last night, and without warning you jabbed it into Ransom’s side repeatedly. He jumped, yelping in surprise before catching your wrist and ripping the weapon away to toss onto the counter. “That tickled, don’t do that.”

“Are you fucking serious, Ransom! A fake knife?!” He didn’t look impressed with your yelling at him, in fact he just looked smug. “Was Bryce in any actual danger last night?” You hissed, jabbing him in the side with your finger until he batted your hand away and gave you a shrug.

“No, but you gotta admit it was funny watching him so angry and helpless.” Ransom answered, laughing when you threw your hands up in the air in exasperation.

“God! I can’t believe you! I did all that last night thinking I was keeping you from stabbing him and the whole time it was a fake knife. You’re an ass, Ransom. I fucking hate you.” You didn’t hate him, unfortunately. But you were pissed and he wasn’t making it any better by standing there looking completely unbothered and absolutely confident that what you were saying was bullshit.

“Funny, just last night you were saying you were mine, and calling me daddy.” He pointed out, and your eyes went wide before you quickly grabbed up the fake knife again and jabbed him with it. You let it clatter against the counter top again.

“Well I didn’t mean it, it was said under duress because you’re a fucking psychopath.” You spat, and almost immediately you could feel the shift in energy in the kitchen. Ransom’s bright blue eyes had darkened, and his body had gone tense as he crowded you back against the counter to cage you in with strong arms.

“Careful, sweetheart." His hand gripped you hard by the jaw and his gaze locked on yours. "Unless you want daddy to spend the rest of the morning taking you apart and reminding you that you are very much mine.”

#ransom drysdale x woc!reader #ransom drysdale x black!reader #ransom drysdale x woc #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fic #woc!reader #black!reader #kinktober 2021 #trilla writes

[ackerfics]

I was thinking about this all day and could not get it off of my mind- what about levi with an

s/o that kisses him in her sleep. Like, she'll kiss his chest, neck, face etc. (Depending on where her head is if they are cuddling) but the kisses are kinda lazy kisses because she's asleep and not fully focusing on what she's doing.

the way my heart melted aaaacdndj

the first time levi felt your feather-like, sleepy kisses, he was genuinely surprised.

it was a rainy night and levi was still sifting through his paperwork, occasionally checking the screen of his laptop for some of his intern's sent work. the rain tapping on the windowpanes served as the background instrumental as his desk clock ticked away until it neared midnight. he was tired, yes, but he badly needed to finish the last pile of paperwork he brought from another hectic day at the office. there was only a piece of paper left on the file, levi's sigh coming right after he flipped to find the document more than the number of pages he expected. he was praying that there were no typos in the final stapled papers he was checking until he found a single word with numbers mixed in it. fucking eren and his dumbass fingers. with a groan, levi crossed it out and annotated the margin with annoyance. the number of times he had to drill it in eren's head that typos irk him and he never follows.

he was so immersed in creating the perfect scolding for the said intern that he didn't notice the tiny creak by his door. only when you cleared your throat did levi raise his head to get a glimpse of you. the sight of you in his shirt and your pajama bottoms eased his irritated state, his shoulders loosening the tenseness. he noticed that your hair was mussed and that you were rubbing one of your eyes, his lips pulling into a small smile at the action. his silver eyes continued staring over your figure slumping on the door frame, taking in your adorable state.

it was like you were meant to calm him.

"hey, did i wake you, love?" levi asked before turning back to typing on his laptop. the light illuminating at the bottom of his office's door must have woken you up. you always have the tendency to search for levi every time he was supposed to pull an all-nighter. "this is the final document, i think. let me just finish this real quick." he reached out to the teacup sitting beside the finished pile of papers, only to find it empty. that was what? his fifth cup?

"you know," you pushed off the door frame, making your way towards the back of your boyfriend's chair, "lacking enough sleep can cause even more stress. much more than stressing over those interns you guys have in your office." you placed your hand on his shoulders, massaging them as you duck down to give him a kiss on the temple. you followed his hand on the empty cup and smiled. "do you need me to make you another cup?"

levi sighed, leaning back to your touch. "no. i think i'm done for the day. my eyes hurt."

"i told you to use the glasses i bought for you last week."

"slipped my mind."

you wrapped your arms around his neck, tilting his head to brush your lips over his. "come to bed, love. i'm worried."

that was everything it took for levi to follow you to your shared bed, the covers providing the extra warmth while the air conditioner rages on despite the rain. levi allows it since you told him that wrapping a blanket around yourself in a rainy day with the air conditioner on is one of the many things you loved doing. so the moment the covers were over you and levi's warm body beside you, you instantly succumbed back to your sleep. meanwhile, levi continued running his hand through your hair, his half-lidded eyes trained on the ceiling as if they carried the paintings in the sistine chapel.

curses on his insomnia started clouding his mind. he was supposed to be nuzzling into your warmth, right into the crook of your neck. he was supposed to be breathing in your scent --- that saccharine smell you always have every after taking time in the bathroom. he was supposed to be enjoying his sleep with you by his side but even though his eyes were hurting from hours of staring into his laptop, he couldn't do it.

until he felt your lips brush over his chest, right over his heart.

levi looked down at the most beautiful face pressed against his chest. a soft smile brightened your features, enhancing your beauty that levi never got tired of staring at. your eyelashes brushed against his bare skin as you shifted your head to find the most comfortable position. levi never took his eyes off you while you placed your head against his neck. your lips once again delicately pressed on his collarbones, his throat, the juncture where his neck met his shoulders, below his ears.

it was ticklish for levi and he couldn't help but to let out a low yet delighted laugh as you continued pressing your soft lips on every patch of skin you could find on levi. your neck craned and you came face to face with your boyfriend, his cheeks becoming warm because of the proximity and your never-ending kisses. you were so beautiful, your face nearing his each ticking second.

like butterfly wings, you kissed his cheeks, the corners of his lips, his jawline. the smile never faded from levi's face, watching the love of his life sleepily leave a trail of affection. it urged levi to tightened his hold on your waist, pulling you even closer to him until there was no space left between the two of you. like puzzle pieces, he let his chin rest on top of your head while you bury your face in his neck.

the last thing levi remembered that night was your sleepy voice murmuring, "i love you, levi."

"i love you, beautiful."

starting that night, levi always looked forward to sleeping. it was the same feeling he had with his mother when he was young, knowing that kuchel was ready to tuck him in with a picture book. it was a similar feeling but with you it erupted the butterflies in his stomach and chest.

when levi told you about this, you felt your face heat up and you couldn't face him the entire morning. you turned around and fixed your attention on the breakfast you were making. that was also the first time he saw you so flustered that he laughed and followed you around the kitchen. when he caught you in his arms, he placed his chin on your shoulder, a contented smile on his face. he pressed a kiss on your shoulder before whispering, "i love every kiss, though. i don't mind if you do that every night. it makes me sleep well. you were so cute. i wanted it to never stop but i guess you need your peaceful sleep, too."

you can handle a stoic levi but a clingy, teasing levi??? your heart can only take one of his many versions.

with a warm face, you threatened levi with the couch if he won't stop teasing.

he stopped.

levi will also try to reciprocate the kisses. he noticed that you never kissed him on the lips whenever you're doing this nightly routine so that's where levi makes sure to end the night with, when he's starting to feel so tired and his eyes droop even more --- your lips taste like home every time.

#rorytalks #anons 💌🥰 #levi ackerman #levi x you #levi x reader #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi x y/n #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi #shingeki no kyojin #snk levi #snk x you #levi aot #aot x reader #THIS MADE ME SOFT DUWHWNJW #attack on titan headcanons #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan