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just4koo · 6 months

Text

cornflower blue - jjk.

summary: nights were your favorite time with your boyfriend. the nights where you laid in bed together, tangled up in each other without any thoughts of the real world.

word count: 4.3k

genre/warnings: established relationship, porn with (kinda) plot, fluff, smut!!, unprotected sex, soft!dom jungkook, really soft overall, lots of praise, fingering, aftercare, dirty talk, creampie, jk loves to use pet names (tbh i didn't proofread this)

bruised on your face like a watercolor bloom, moonlight paints your skin cornflower blue

Every time you got a glance of your boyfriend, you wondered how on earth you were so lucky to find him. Every morning you spent next to him, you thanked whatever brought him to you because you couldn't imagine a life without him anymore. Without sharing your mornings and evenings together, having stay at home dates, sharing everything. The good, bad, and the ugly. There were moments where you felt like you could just stare at him for hours. Right now was one of those moments.

It was the mundane moments that really got to you. He had just gotten home from work a couple hours prior. The two of you had shared dinner together, he had ranted about his day like usual, and he had gone to the bathroom for his routine shower before bed. Now he was laying on the bed with you in all his glory. Damp hair, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, pajamas lazily pulled on, the two of you watching an episode of the baking competition show you two loved so much.

Somewhere during the episode you had lost focus once you got a glimpse of your boyfriend. He was much more interesting than the show to you, much more beautiful than any piece of artwork. Every curve and dip of his face, every blemish and mole, it was so perfect. The light of the TV brightened his features enough, allowing you to look at him even more in depth. Swoon over the beautiful brown eyes that were focused on the show.

It was almost as if your boyfriend could sense you staring. After a couple minutes of you watching him, his eyes flickered over to you. Earlier on in the relationship you would've shied away from his gaze at the prospect of being caught, but not anymore. Not when all you wanted to do every second of the day was remind him just how perfect he was. His eyes immediately softened when he saw you already looking at, revealing the gaze that he always had reserved only for you.

"Feeling tired, baby?" He asked in a tone full of affection, one of his hands moving to gently brush a strand of your hair out of your face. Your heart practically fluttered as his fingertips barely grazed the skin of your cheek. He was always so attentive to you that it made your heart throb uncontrollably.

"Mhm.. Can we just lay down and listen to our playlist?" You asked quietly, provoking a soft smile from him. It was one of the things you both loved to do. You loved music equally, and that love had produced a playlist that the two of you only listened to together. It had everything on it. Silly songs, slow songs, things that you wanted to recommend to each other. The song had 700 songs and was still being added to.

"Of course we can, come here.." Jungkook replied, holding an arm open for you. Without a second thought you were immediately abandoning your spot on the bed next to him in favor for crawling directly into his arms. With an arm now wrapped around you he cut off the TV and opened his phone, going into his music app to play the playlist. One of the first songs that played was soft R&B, one of the songs that had been recommended to him by his fans.

A small yawn fell from your lips as you rested your head against his shoulder just like always. His hand had instinctively traveled under your t-shirt, starting to rub slow circles into your waist. You had one of your hands in his hair, playing with the soft strands that he had decided to grow out a while ago. Everything in the moment felt perfect, like it was where the two of you belonged. Laying in bed with your limbs tangled, listening to the music.

You eventually found yourself looking back at Jungkook, you just couldn't help it. How could you not admire the most breathtaking person you'd ever laid eyes on? Especially not when he was looking right back at you, his eyes holding the same admiration that you were feeling for him at the moment. It was almost like the music faded into the background and now you were just stuck sharing a gaze with your boyfriend. Without the light of the TV anymore, the moonlight casted a blue hue in your shared bedroom, illuminating his features.

He was so stunning that it hurt. You wished nothing more than to be able to fully convey the things you felt for him. There wasn't a day that you didn't tell him how much you loved him or how handsome he was, and yet you still felt as if it wasn't enough. Words could never truly describe the emotions this man drew out of your soul. Without even knowing he made you want to be the best version of yourself possible.

"What're you thinking of, my love?" Jungkook eventually questioned, unable to hold in his curiosity anymore. You would often do this, look at him without really saying it. While other people may have commented on it or thought it was a bit strange, he never did. Because he knew that when you were looking at him in that way, you were feeling all of the same things that he felt for you.

"You. I'm always thinking of you." You answered, causing that familiar feeling of butterflies in his stomach. No matter how long the two of you had been dating, one thing never changed. The magnitude of your feelings for each other. Most couples had honeymoon phases, losing the initial level of interest they had in each other once they got to know one another. But it wasn't that way for you and Jungkook. No, it had been the opposite. The closer you two grew together, the harder and deeper you fell.

You were eventually snapped out of your reverie by the sensation of your boyfriend's fingers brushing against your cheek again. This time, intentional. You looked back up into his eyes as you felt this, seeing him looking right back down at you. A soft smile pulled at the corner of his lips when he noticed the slight flush on your cheeks in the soft blue light of the moon. To him, you were a masterpiece. There was no purpose in going to museums when he had the most beautiful sight right in front of him, everyday.

"God, I wish you knew how much I love you." He breathed out. You felt your flush deepen at those words. The thing that brought you the most amount of happiness was knowing that what Jungkook felt for you was the same. You were both two young adults hopelessly in love with each other, the two of you against the world forever. The promise ring on your right hand sealing in your future together.

After a few more moments existing in the silence together, the two of you were simultaneously leaning in for a kiss. If you had one last wish before you died, it would be to experience this. To feel his soft lips slot against yours and draw away all of your worries. To take you to a place where you didn't have to worry about anything. Where you could just exist with him; live without any doubts for the future or any regrets for the past.

The two of you kissed softly and gently, getting lost in the warmth you got from each other. At one point, the feeling of you two kissing was becoming too much. The music provided a soft melody, joined with the new sound of the two of your breaths becoming more rushed. Your hands becoming more curious the longer your lips stayed locked. It was impossible when everything you felt for each other was so strong. The fire fueled by being so close.

With a small hum, Jungkook's other hand had slipped under your shirt, holding onto your waist to gently pull you closer. Kissing you was a dream to him, and he wanted every bit of it you let him have. With you, he wanted to do all of the things that lovers do. He wanted to worship and admire every single square inch of your body, because it was what you deserved. He saw you as a goddess that walked the earth, and he got the opportunity to feel your love.

"Jungkook.." You softly whispered his name as you felt his hands beginning to caress the skin of your back. He had never heard a prettier noise. Your boyfriend's touches were making your body warm up, always so sensitive to even the smallest touches from him. Your heart was practically pounding out of your chest when he grabbed ahold of your waist and flipped your positions, his elbows on either side of your head and his knees resting on the outsides of yours.

"Shh... I know, pretty." Jungkook replied quietly. He wasted no more time in pulling the sleep shirt over your head, leaving your upper half exposed to him. His eyes took the time to slowly drag down your exposed skin, his pupils dilated and his lips slightly parted. He looked as if he was in awe as he took a mental picture of the sight of you, how you looked laying back against the sheets, your skin practically glowing cornflower blue.

You were about to get shy about the way that he was observing you at the moment, but any thoughts were quickly wiped from your mind when his lips landed on your neck. Your body shivered in an immediate reaction to his touch, feeling the way he smiled against your skin. His lips worked gently and slow, trailing kisses all across the skin. One of your hands had tangled into his hair, wanting to keep him in place.

His fingers were once again gently rubbing your waist as his wet kisses slowly began to travel down your body, wanting to appreciate every single curve and crevice of your body. Your breath hitched when his tongue began to trace your areola. He always loved paying attention to your breasts, loved the soft skin on them and the way that you moaned so angelically whenever he stimulated you here. Just as expected, he earned one of those moans when his lips latched around your nipple.

He sucked gently, always sure to move his hand to attend to the breast he wasn't paying attention to. He flattened his tongue to move directly against your skin, ever so gently grazing his teeth against your nipple and earning a tug on his hair that made him moan. He finally pulled back only to give your other breast the same exact treatment. Jungkook was always a giver, and he made sure that no spot of your body was left unattended.

After a minute or so of this, it had become too much from you. The pool of arousal between your legs was so severe that it was giving you an uncomfortable sensation. You pulled his head away from your chest, his eyes immediately looking up at you with concern, wondering if he had done anything wrong or accidentally hurt you.

"I'm fine, Koo. I just.. I need you now." You said in an almost pleading tone, feeling borderline desperate. The worry on his features dissolved and instead was replaced with a grin, although you could clearly see the desire in his eyes just as strong as you felt it. He had no complaints though, he would do anything you asked.

Without wasting another moment he was undressing himself, taking off his t-shirt and the pajama pants he'd been wearing. Leaving himself in just his black Calvin Klein boxers that was enough to make any woman drool at the sight. Yet, this man was the one practically drooling at you while he was gently pulling down both your shorts and panties. This was a sight that Jungkook would give up everything to see. He wouldn't trade you for all the fame and fortune in the world. He had won the lottery with you.

"You're so damn beautiful.." Jungkook said without much thought, his tatted hands moving to rest on your thighs. They massaged the flesh gently, taking the time to appreciate the softness of your thighs. It was always one of his favorite parts of you. He had spent countless times fixated on your thighs, kissing and touching them. But he knew that tonight, neither of you had much patience. So after a few moments, his hands gently spread your thighs open.

"Such a pretty little pussy as well. Why does every part of you have to be so perfect?" He added on once he got a sight of the mess between your legs. Your cheeks were flushed deep red at his words. He had always been blunt with his words and how he felt about you. Sometimes it made you feel light and happy, other times like now it only fueled the burning fire of desire you felt for your boyfriend.

Not wanting to spend any more time making you shy, he started to give you what you wanted. His middle finger slowly swiped down your pussy, all the way from the hood of your clit to your slit. His eyes watched in wonder as you clenched down on nothing, so desperate to have him inside of you. If it was his choice, he would spend hours doing this. If he knew that it wouldn't torture you, he could be here all day playing with you.

Even though he could tell that you wanted him right at that moment, he always made sure to prep you a little before. Sparing a few moments using his fingers was worth it when he could ease the pain that you felt when his cock initially split you open. The one thing he hated most was seeing you in pain, especially if it was something that he could've prevented. So even though he saw the anticipation burning in your eyes, he didn't give in yet.

Your whole body shuddered when his thumb pressed directly against your clit. He rubbed in slow, small circles. All focus on the way that your back slightly arched off the bed and your hole was desperately fluttering. Just the sight was enough to elicit a groan from him. You drove him absolutely crazy, just as he was doing to you. Even the slight touch of his finger was enough to make your whole body react.

"Jungkook, please-" You started to beg, but was cut off abruptly when you felt his index finger push past your entrance. A moan fell from your lips as you were finally feeling some of the stimulation that you wanted.

"Patience, darling. Let me stretch out you a bit, okay? You're doing so well already." Jungkook muttered. His finger slowly began to pump inside of you while his thumb continued to give attention to your puffy clit. One of the things he loved most was the way that you were always so receptive to everything he gave you. You were so reactive also, unafraid to show him just how good he could make you feel.

A little while later he added his middle finger to join. There was already a sheen layer of sweat covering your body due to everything you were feeling at the moment. He worked ever so gently, fingers slowly scissoring inside of you to try and stretch you out a bit more. He made sure to stimulate your clit the whole time, making it easier for you to open up for him. He spent a few minutes just doing this, fingers curling against the spongy spot he had memorized, just as every other part of your body was to him.

He had spent so many times doing this, that he knew every way your body reacted. He knew what every twitch looked like, every expression on your face. He never got tired of this. How could he ever get bored of watching the one person he loved so much falling apart due to his touch? It was a sight he would never lose.

The closer you came to your climax, the more vocal you became. There were moans coming from your mouth, mumbles of his name, small whimpers. It all rushed through his body and went straight to his already painfully hard erection. Even though it was borderline painful, he didn't mind waiting if it meant you were properly prepared for him.

He stared as your hips began to twitch, knowing your climax was close. He ever so slightly quickened the pace of his thumb against your clit and it was enough to send you over the edge. Your hands that had been resting on his shoulders dug into the skin as your whole body trembled with the force of your orgasm. In just minutes he had you falling apart on his fingers, unable to do anything else but call out for him as he continued to move his fingers inside of you, letting you ride out your high.

He finally pulled his fingers away when he felt the taps on his shoulder, knowing exactly what it meant. You shivered a little when his fingers slipped out of your pussy, his fingers wet with your essence. He wasted no time in bringing his fingers up to his mouth, tasting your release with a deep groan. Just the sight of your boyfriend sat back on his heels with his fingers in his mouth, cock straining his boxers, was enough to immediately turn you on again.

"I need you please, so bad.." You finally uttered after coming back from the overwhelming sensations he'd given to you. Your hands were already on the waistband of his boxers, his eyes intently staring you down as he pulled his clean fingers from his mouth. He watched as you pulled down his boxers, helping you remove them fully. He saw your reaction to the way his cock sprung up to gently hit his stomach, showing just how much he desired you.

You reached out for him immediately, wrapping one of your hands around the base of his erection, drawing out a quiet hiss from under his breath. You barely had time to slide your hand up before he was taking your hand away and pinning you back down to the bed. He looked down at you with so many emotions in his eyes. Love, affection, desire, lust. Everything that you felt for him completely mirrored.

"How could I ever resist you when you sound so pretty for me?" Jungkook questioned quietly, his knees pushing your thighs apart to nestle himself between your legs. His hands held both of yours, pinning them down to the bed. His eyes were locked onto yours, always wanting to stare right into the eyes of his lover as he showed just how much he felt for you.

One of his hands momentarily moved to take ahold of his throbbing cock, rubbing it against your entrance. You were both immediately moaning in your neediness. He knew that there was no way he would be able to last long, not when what he felt for you was so intense. Unable to take anymore of the torture, he finally aligned himself with your entrance, guiding his hips slowly to make sure he didn't hurt you.

"Oh my god, you're so perfect." Jungkook's face fell to the crook of your neck, having to use all of his strength to hold himself back from drilling into you. Your head fell back against the pillow when you felt his cock splitting you open, pushing past your entrance. Your walls were immediately pulsing around him and he swore that he was in heaven. Once he bottomed out he stayed still, free hand going down to rub small patterns into your clit to help you ease up, his lips kissing against the delicate skin of your neck.

"You can move now, please.." You whispered after getting used to the feeling of your boyfriend deep inside of you. His stimulation to your clit helped and now you were just desperate for him to make love to you in the same way he always did.

Jungkook immediately began to move at your permission, hips pulling almost all the way back before he thrusted back into you. Every slight movement of your body was enough to make his cock twitch. From only just a few moments he felt like he was so close to the edge. Every time he felt like he was about to orgasm he would slow down, edging himself to bring you more pleasure. You were always his first priority.

"This cunt is so sweet, baby. Made just for me, hm?" Jungkook asked as his hips rolled against yours. He worked at a steady pace, not wanting to rush things when everything felt so perfect. For once you two didn't have to rush in the fleeting moments during the day before you had things to get done. No, both of you were with each other in the light of the moon, without a worry of a single thing other than each other.

"Yes, Jungkook! Only for you.." You practically whimpered out, back arching and pussy clenching at his sweet praise. That was enough for him to practically lose control of himself. His hands gripped your thighs now, pushing them against your chest so he could reach even deeper into your insides.

"Fuck, that's right. Only for me. Such a good girl for me, aren't you?" His voice was becoming more high pitched, moans borderline raspy at this point. You sounded so sweetly to him, like an angel coming down to bless him personally. Sometimes he wondered if you were actually a dream, but these moments were too real for him.

Your response to his words was a high pitched moan, nails desperately clutching at the sheets the deeper he forced his cock into you, the longer his finger quickly rubbed at your clit. It was all too much, yet you could never get enough of him, of what he gave you. You had always been his good girl, and you always would be. The love of his life, his darling. Every single word he fed to you just made you feel even closer to your climax.

"I love you so much, you know that right? N-never forget that.." Jungkook breathed out with a slight stutter, almost unable to think straight at this point. He was ruining himself right now by how hard he was holding back, his balls painfully aching every time he drove himself back into your sopping pussy.

The sound of your joined moans along with your cunt squelching with every single deep thrust was a melody to him that no other music could ever come close to. No sounds could give him the same amount of satisfaction and feelings as this did. He loved you with every single fiber of his being. He needed you even more than that.

"I l-love you too. I can't.." Your voice was so desperate at this point, unable to formulate any proper sentences. But he knew. He always did when it came to you. He could feel the way your whole body was trembling right now, he could see the way your eyebrows were pulled together and the way you were biting down on your bottom lip. You were close to your second orgasm, and he wanted nothing more than to fill you with all of his love.

"I know, darling. Want to feel you cream my cock. Come for me." Jungkook mumbled into your ear, almost unable to contain himself anymore. Giving you the final push as his lips crashed against yours, reaching your peak for the second time that night. Your body tensed up and thighs trembled, your lips parting in a silent moan.

The sight of you at the height of your pleasure was too much for Jungkook to bear. With a few sharp thrusts into your quivering pussy, he let out a prolonged groan as you felt his cum filling you in long spurts. His hips were pushed flush against yours, his cock quivering as he felt you milk him for all he was worth.

As the both of you came down from your highs he lazily ground his hips against yours a few more times, letting the two of you come down slowly from your highs. Once the both of you winced at the feeling, he pulled out of you, cock now soft and covered in the mess the both of you created. He looked down at your hole, watching with interest as the mix of your cum was spilling from your entrance.

Fighting off the urge to push it back into your used pussy, he got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom, coming back with a rag to clean you up before any more of the cum got onto the bedsheets. Like always, he made sure to wipe the both of you down before getting back into the bed right next to you. Not bothering to get back dressed as he just wanted to hold you.

His arms immediately wrapped around you and pulled you closer, causing you to smile. Your body was exhausted but it was the best feeling. The pleasure was still running through your body. Even more importantly, you still felt all of the love from before. He never failed to make you feel loved and appreciated. Your boyfriend was amazing.

"I love you." You mumbled to him, smiling lightly at the song that came on, remembering the music the two of you had been listening to. The moon was still high in the sky, leaving the two of you with more time to lay together. More time to stay in your little bubble without any worries, no thoughts except ones of each other. Being in the comfort of knowing that you loved him, and he loved you just as much.

"I love you too."

in the morning, i'll love the mangled bits of you i'll love you when your lips turn cornflower blue

1K notes · View notes

strangemagicc · 6 months

Text

Muse | Part One

masterlist | next>

pairings: modern!artist!Eddie x fem!Reader, classmates to lovers

summary: you laid there exposed, nipples perked and goose flesh blossoming on your skin. their eyes were watching you, studying the curve of your hips and the length of your legs but no gaze was as intense as his.

author’s note: this kinda got away from me but there’s just something about Eddie calling reader a good girl 🫠 I did my best to edit it so if there’s mistakes I apologize! Comments/reblogs are always so appreciated 🖤

w/c: 5.5k

warnings: smutty smut smut, p in v, oral (reader and Eddie receiving), creampie, slight dom!Eddie, uhh praise kink if you squint

The room was cold, the walls white, a little medicinal. Light cascaded through the windows, hues of tangerine and gold creating a warmth against the expanse of your exposed flesh. Your head rested against your shoulder, arms pressed into the wooden stage below you, legs posed to the side elongating your body. You could feel their eyes on you, pensive and concentrated but you focused your gaze on the wall behind them. Studied the cracks in the plaster and the splatters of paint from classes before. The minutes ticked by, slow and tedious. You shifted your gaze to the left, eyes meeting intense chestnut. He smiled at you, small and polite before looking back at his canvas. Lines formed on his forehead, eyebrows raised high as he captured the curve of your waist and the flare of your hips. He was handsome, conspicuously so. Curly auburn hair tied into a low bun, black t-shirt clinging to the muscle of his tattooed arms. A walking canvas, perfect lines and shadows. Heat rose to your chest, blossomed in your cheeks and your breathing became more shallow. Your eyes darted away from him, back to the wall behind him and you remained focused refusing to linger a moment longer on the curve of his jaw or the cluster of freckles on his nose. Worried that he’d noticed you noticing him. Because you had noticed him plenty of times. On campus and in class. Sitting in the back of your art history sketching in his journal as the professor droned on and the minutes ticked by slowly. Sometimes he’d catch you staring, give you a smirk or a small wave to let you know that weren’t as inconspicuous as you thought. Each time heat would rise to your cheeks, eyes darting away. And you would be embarrassed if you hadn’t caught him just as fixated, just as hypnotized.

A timer began to beep alerting the class that you were due for a break, that your pose would change once you returned. You pushed off your hands, stretched your shoulders, and rolled your wrists before grabbing for your robe. The plush fabric was a welcomed comfort, cotton soft against your skin. Students talked amongst themselves, reviewing each other’s work, their creations of you but no one spoke directly to you. Over the last few months, you began modeling for the figure art class to make a few extra bucks, to make your way through college, and to get your own art degree. At first, it was awkward, you were unsure of yourself and how to place your body. Uncomfortable having everyone’s eyes on you for an hour, studying the flesh of your stomach and the stretch marks on the curve of your ass. But it became easier, almost second nature to be bare in front of mostly strangers.

You continued stretching your neck as you walked towards your bag for a snack hidden in the depths of your purse. You needed something, your hunger nearly loud enough for those around you to notice. The granola bar was sweet against your lips, apple and cinnamon. A little stale from sitting in your cabinet too long. Still, you hummed as you devoured it, eyes closed and savoring each bite.

“That should be your next pose,” a deep voice stated from above you. You opened your eyes, chocolate brown looking back at you with a smirk. A whisper of a dimple on his cheek.

“What would you call it? Glutton?” You joked back, taking another bite to cover the way your breath hitched when you got a whiff of his cologne.

“Hmm, I was thinking ecstasy. Something about how your eyes roll whenever you take a bite seems fitting.” You chuckled at his words, heat blossoming in your chest at his sentiment. Ecstasy. He popped a grape into his mouth from the bag he was holding, thumb lingering on his lips as he eyed you. A mischievous glint in his eye.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” he wiped his hand before reaching it out to shake yours, your eyebrows meeting with a crease at the gesture. Seemed a little formal after he’d already seen you naked. But still, you slipped your small hand into his much larger one, felt the calluses on his fingers and the ones against his palm as you introduced yourself. He smiled and repeated your name with a nod, your hand lingering in his as the two of you stared at each other in silence. You shook your head, a little dazed as though he had put a spell on you.

“Aren’t you in my art history class?” Eddie pushed a hand into his pocket and leaned back on his heels as he made small conversation.

“With Professor Blake?” You tilted your head watching as his eyes wandered down your frame and back again.

“Yeah, that guy. Always has a coffee stain somewhere.” You nodded along with his description, watched as he talked with his hands making gestures as he spoke mimicking Professor Blake’s mannerisms and the dribble of coffee he always had.

“That would be him,” you giggled again, wadding up the wrapper to your granola bar.

“How are you liking the class?”

“Something about art history makes me want to stab myself in the eye but otherwise it’s fine. Blubbering Blake makes it pretty entertaining, classmates are pretty cute,” he mused and kept his eyes trained on you. Your gaze fluttered, an abashed smile found a home on your lips. You cleared your throat as you tried to formulate a response.

“I think it would be more fun if we spent more time looking at the art while we listened to them drabble on. More than just slides y’know? I like to be immersed in it.” As though that weren’t obvious by your lack of clothes moments ago. Your nerves were ignited making you antsy, a little bit of a rambling mess.

“I feel the same way,” he gave you a thoughtful nod, “You can only see or understand so much from a lecture and it’s usually all from a PowerPoint anyways,” he shrugged, gaze lingering on yours. He was unabashed with his staring, the way his gaze wandered over the length of you.

“You know what I’m really excited to see?” He nodded for you to continue, crossing his arms as he listened. Your enthusiasm was evident, wide eyes and a huge smile.

“Yayoi Kusama, her exhibit is going to be in Philly.” His gaze changed, excitement building at your words.

“Seriously? Holy shit, I have to see that. I’ve been following her work for a while,”

“Well if you’re interested, I have an extra ticket for tomorrow. My friend bailed on me.” Your date had bailed but he didn’t need to know that. You shrugged your shoulder nonchalantly as if he wasn’t a stranger. As if this wasn’t your first conversation and you weren’t asking him to go out. As if you weren’t dying to end the night with him in your bed.

“Fuck yeah, I’m interested,” he nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Great,” you beamed, “it starts at eight if you want to meet there?” Eddie shook his head.

“Absolutely not, I’m picking you up. We can get dinner after.”

“This is sounding a little like a date, Eddie.” You teased him to hide the nervous butterflies that were unraveling at your center.

“I hope so,” he smiled at you fully, one you couldn’t help but return. The alarm went off letting you know that your break was over, that it was time for your final pose.

“Dinner sounds great,” you whispered over your shoulder as you walked back towards the makeshift stage and dropped your robe. Eddie shot you a wink, dimpled grin on full display as his gave traveled over you.

You clawed through your closet for the better part of an hour, your bedroom littered with rejects as you examined your reflection in the mirror. The black fabric of the short corduroy dress you’d decided on hugged you, accentuating the curve of your hips and ass. Your cleavage pressed into the fabric, the top button hanging on for dear life. You paired it with sheer black tights, a leather blazer, mary jane pumps, and a daring red lip. A little pop of color. You shook out your hair, teasing it with your hands for a little volume before sliding on your gold necklace and matching hoops. You felt cute, a little hot even, and winked at yourself in the mirror laughing at your own cringe before checking your texts to see one from Eddie that said he was on his way. Excitement filled you, a motley crew of butterflies swarming your abdomen as you anticipated his arrival and thought over your conversation, exchanging numbers after the class had ended. You’d thought about it since the day before, going about your routine with a little hum, a small smile and now the moment was here.

Eddie knocked at the door softly and straightened out his appearance as he waited for you. You smoothed out the lines of your dress, fixed your cleavage, and looked at your reflection in the hall mirror one last time before answering. His eyes widened, jaw slack as he looked at you. You were equally off guard, admiring his simple black button-down paired with black jeans that accentuated the curve of his thighs. He wore rings on either hand, big and intimidating. His hair hung at his shoulders instead of the bun you saw him in yesterday, a small chain tucked into his shirt. Eddie smelled like bergamot and sage, a hint of cinnamon from the gum he had been chewing.

“Y-you look stunning,” he stammered, blinking rapidly as he finally looked into your eyes. You melted under his gaze, flattered was too small of a word to describe how you felt under the intensity of his regard.

“You look pretty handsome yourself,” you complimented, slightly entranced by the smell of his cologne.

“Flattery will get you anything, sweetheart,” he chuckled, hiding the redness of his cheeks as the two of you walked out of your apartment building. His hand stayed at the small of your back, guiding you through the maze of hallways, down the elevator, and out the front door.

The fall night was chilly, a gentle breeze biting at your skin and you tucked yourself further into your blazer.

“Are you okay taking my motorcycle? If not I can get us a Lyft. I didn’t realize until I was on my way that I hadn’t mentioned it when I insisted on picking you up.” He grimaced.

“Let’s take your bike,” you assured him with a smile as the two of you walked in step. His bike was parked near your building, matte black and sleek. You let out a low whistle and walked ahead to get a good look at it.

“It’s so fucking nice,” you enthused, secretly always wanting a bike but knowing you could barely walk on two feet let alone ride on just two wheels.

“Thanks, got her this summer. Took her to the coast and some beaches. Was a pretty kick-ass time.” Eddie grabbed his helmet, adjusted the strap, and turned to you offering it.

“I don’t have an extra, don’t usually ride with a passenger,” he shrugged, “hopefully this will fit you.” He handed you the black helmet, matte to match his bike.

“Are you trying to say that I have a big head?” You scoffed playfully. His eyebrows shot up, devious. Like he didn’t want to be the one to tell you the truth that you were carrying a globe on your neck. You swatted at his shoulders playfully, a small giggle escaping.

“I didn’t even say anything,” he pretended to wince, rubbing his shoulder like it still stung all the while smiling broadly back at you.

“It was so implied in those eyebrows,” you pointed at them, drawing a little circle in the air in case he forgot where they were.

“They have a mind of their own,” he raised his hands as if he didn’t have an explanation and watched as you tugged the helmet on. It was tight against you, cheeks squeezed on the sides like your uncle used to.

“You might actually be right,” you grimaced, thinking of how unflattering the whole thing looked.

“I promise that’s how it’s supposed to fit,” he chuckled reaching over and adjusting the chin strap. Eddie tapped your head slightly, shot you another wink that went straight between your thighs. He was suave, annoyingly confident but it had you hungry. Wanting. He slipped his legs over the bike, the fabric of his jeans bunching around his thighs and you eyed the swell of his ass. Eddie chuckled at the directon of your gaze as he held his hand out for you, helping you onto the bike and instructing you to use his shoulders to get situated. The muscle flexed under your touch, solid. You wanted to glide your fingers along them, skim the hard muscle of his arms into his back.

“How you feeling back there?” He peeked over his shoulder at you.

“G-good,” you stammered placing your hands gently at his sides.

“You might want to hold on a little tighter.” He pulled your hands around his waist, and patted them gently after you interlocked your fingers.

“Better?” He asked.

“Better,” you nodded even though he was no longer looking. He took off, motorcycle vibrating beneath you. You pressed your face into his back, arms tight around his stomach as the wind whipped against you.

Eddie walked you to your door, palm on the small of your back, your body buzzing with the two margaritas you had over dinner and the warmth radiating from his touch. You weren’t drunk, just a little less wound tight. Nerves melted into oblivion. Inhibitions near nonexistent. The date was good, great even. You had thought of this moment all night, how to invite him in and if you were being too forward. If you’d read into how his hand dipped from the small of your back to the swell of your ass. If you imagined the hunger in his gaze that was mirrored in yours.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” you beamed, back pressed into the wood of your door as you looked up at him. A little flirty, eyes batting. His brown eyes searched your face, settled on your bottom lip and he swallowed hard.

“I had a lot of fun too, thanks for inviting me.” He leaned a little closer, bergamot and cinnamon filling the small space between the two of you. His eyes darted back and forth between your gaze and the pout of your lips. Debating. You leaned closer, back leaving the surface of the door, the swell of your breasts brushing against his chest as you did. He crowded your space, pushing you gently back against the wood, one hand resting above your head and the other playing with the hem of your dress. You tried to seem unphased but the way you swallowed had you giving away how his touch affected you. Eddie dipped his fingers under the hem of your dress tracing the line of your upper thigh to the cheek of your ass. Teasing. Eyes darkening when he noticed you weren’t wearing any underwear. Your hand moved up his chest, lightly scratching the exposed flesh until they were twined behind his neck, the sweet smell of your perfume making him hum. He wedged a leg between the two of yours, the sound of his boot heavy against the hallway floor, nose brushing yours as he leaned in watching your eyes flutter close. Eddie cupped your jaw, calloused thumb rubbing gently against your cheekbone, tracing a line to your bottom lip and pulling against it. A shiver ran up your spine as you felt his other hand move further up your skirt, fingers digging into the doughy flesh. His breath was warm against your lips, a whisper above yours as he continued to tease you. You whined impatiently pulling him closer until his lips were pressed into yours. They were softer than you expected, plump against your own and you knotted your fingers into his curls. Pulling softly and eliciting a groan. He sucked your bottom lip, tongue sliding across asking for permission until you opened for him. Your tongues met in the middle, soft as they explored each other. Eddie’s hand cupped your jaw as the kiss deepened, his knee pressed between your thighs and you began to grind against him. Your clit rubbed against the rough material of his jeans making you shiver with the contact. You felt him twitch against your thigh, the evidence of his arousal pressed into you making you moan into his mouth. He pulled away from you, pupils blown, cheeks blushed crimson. He eyed your swollen lips, a question on the tip of his tongue but you beat him to it.

“We should go inside,” you stated between breathy sighs. Eddie nodded rapidly, swallowing roughly as he eyed your cleavage before you turned around and began digging for your keys, shuffling around your wallet and tubes of cherry lipgloss. He pressed kisses to the curve of your neck, tongue darting over the nipped flesh. Length hard against you, rutting into your ass. You were unable to concentrate, head tilting back as his palms created a path until they were cupping your breasts. Your hands stilled as he explored the heavy flesh.

“You better keep looking,” he instructed, teeth grazing your thrumming pulse. You nodded, chest heaving as you dug through your purse again, finally finding the keys. You pushed the door open with shaky hands, Eddie trailing behind you. You closed the heavy wood in a rush, breaths short as you kicked off your mary jane pumps. Your apartment was only illuminated by the light in your hallway, creating a shadow over Eddie’s strong jaw. You grazed a fingertip over the bone and he shuddered, eyes dark as he pushed you lightly against the door pressing rough kisses to your sternum. You reached for the buttons of Eddie’s shirt, fingernails grazing against the tattooed flesh as the material of the black button-up dangled open. He tilted your head back to get better access, kissing down your neck, your chest, and to the top of your breasts. Your skin was warm against his lips, flushed with the heat building between the two of you. He nipped at your cleavage, fingers starting to undo the buttons that lined the front of your dress, fumbling through them quickly until the material dropped open.

“Fuck,” he breathed a groan as he eyed you, fingers gliding over the flesh of your stomach and up your chest, pushing at the straps of your dress until it fell to the floor with a soft thud. You were nearly bare, standing in just your tights and your black lace bra. Goosebumps sprouted, a shuddered breath escaped your lips and he was on you. Rough kisses, all teeth and tongue. Hungry. Desperate. He groaned as he felt your perked nipples through your bra against his muscled chest, big hands finding purchase on the curve of your hips. He squeezed you firmly, flipping you around until your chest was pressed into the door. Eddie rubbed his hands over your ass, warmth radiating through the thin layer separating him from your bare skin.

“How attached to these tights are you?” He asked, voice gruff. He began sucking a sensitive spot behind your ear as he waited for your answer.

“N-not really,” you stammered, distracted. Needy. Eddie’s right hand cupped your breast wandering under the material of your bra. He squeezed at the nipple as his other hand left a blazing trail down your back and between your thighs. You were soaked, slick arousal making your tights stick to your folds. Eddie traced the outline of them with his finger, breath catching as he felt how wet you were.

“All of this because of me?” His voice was low, warm breath fanning your ear as he pressed into you. His cock twitched against your ass and you nodded at him, a high-pitched whine escaping your lips as you began grinding against him, hips wiggling against his hard length. He stilled your hips, fingernails digging into your skin creating crescent moons.

“You’re a needy girl, aren’t you?” You nodded again, trying to press harder against him. To feel him against your clit. The friction you so desperately needed. Eddie smacked your ass, your moan grew louder. Needier. Enjoying the sting as his hand rubbed the covered flesh.

“You like that, baby?” Both his hands rubbed over the dough over your ass, against the seam of your tights, fingers digging until you heard a rip from the nylon and felt the air against the slick between your legs. Eddie gently pushed against your feet spreading your legs further apart, fabric ripped in half until the tights were two separate halves. He grabbed the fat of your ass spreading you apart bending on his knees behind you.

“Jesus fuck,” he moaned, swiping against your folds.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he hummed, finger dipping close to your cunt. “Is this all for me?” You nodded but he couldn’t see, gaze trained on how you glistened in front of him.

“I need to hear you, sweetheart,” his hand stilled and you whimpered.

“Yes, it’s all for you.”

“Do you want me to touch you? Make you cum with my tongue?” You nodded again, this time earning another slap against your ass. Your nipples pebbled at the contact, cunt gripping around nothing as your moan filled the space.

“I need you to tell me, pretty girl,” Eddie instructed, spreading you apart again.

“Please, please make me cum Eddie.” Your nails scrapped against the wood door, clawing at nothing as he teased your cunt with his thick finger. Thumb playing with your bundle of nerves. You felt his warm breath against your wet arousal and shivered, forehead pressing into the door as you bit your lip in anticipation. You were a second away from begging when you felt his tongue swipe against your folds. He groaned at your taste, lapping up your dripping arousal like a man starved. Your toes curled as he pressed further into you, head twisted so he could work your clit, thick fingers teasing your entrance. You wiggled your ass against his face, a silent plead and Eddie slipped a finger inside stretching you until he was knuckle deep. His fingers curled inside, hitting a spot you had trouble reaching on your own. Your moans grew louder, reverberating off the walls of your apartment as you got closer to coming undone.

“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god,” your chest heaved, eyes squeezing tight as the rubber band inside you constricted. He added a second finger, tongue lapping at your juices as you began to constrict around him. You reached behind, fingers wrapping into his curls and holding his head to you. Your moans matching his pace. He sucked at your clit, your vision going white as the rubber band snapped and you came undone. Your walls pulsed around his fingers, his name falling from your lips in breathy moans. Body shaking as the orgasm took over. His groans vibrated against your clit making you shudder and he savored every last drop, never slowing. Lapping at your juices. He slapped your ass again, your legs shaky as he left a trail of kisses up your spine and turned you around. You melted into his arms, looked at him with hooded eyes and saw the evidence of your climax coating his mouth. You stood on your tiptoes, kissing him deep and tasting your sweetness on his swollen lips.

“You taste so good baby, so sweet,” you bit at his bottom lip. Less shy, already hungry for more. To feel the delicious stretch of the hard length that had been pressing against you. You placed your hands on his chest, his muscles flexing under your touch. You pushed back gently, a silent command.

“It’s time for me to take care of you,” you guided him further into the apartment, gaze trained on his as you undid his belt and let it fall to the floor. Your hands worked the button of his jeans, nails brushing the hair that trailed into his pants and teasing the sensitive skin there. He looked at you with hooded eyes, stopping at the foot of your bed when you got down in front of him. Knees digging into the carpeted floor. You looked at him over your lashes, teeth biting into your lower lip as you took it slow. You pushed his jeans down his hips and he kicked them to the side watching as you grazed the ends of your nails against his legs, up the swell of his muscled thighs. Smiling when he shivered at the touch. You kissed his clothed length, hand massaging his balls, trailing kisses until you reached the tip. A patch on his boxers wet from pre-cum. You stroked him through the thin fabric, hand wrapping around his girthy cock as you dragged your palm from the base to his tip. He was big, bigger than you’d ever had, and you ached at the thought of stretching around him. You stood, hand still wrapped his length, and pushed him onto the bed. He spread his stance wide, brown eyes watching as you situated yourself between his legs, his chest rising and falling in short spurts. You palmed his thighs, finger grazing the spandex of his boxers and pulled them down watching as his cock sprang free. You bit your bottom lip as you eyed his length. He was thick, an angry vein lined the underside, pink head leaking with precum. You grabbed the base of him, tongue flat as you licked a line to his tip swirling over the top to collect the pearly liquid. You moaned at the taste of him, Eddie watching you with a hooded gaze and a shallow breath. You gathered spit, dribbling it down his tip until his head was slick and grazed your flat tongue against it.

“Oh fucking Christ,” his voice was ragged, fingers gripping your sheets as he felt you bob against his length, sucking his sensitive head with a loud pop as you eyed him. He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your head down his length, cock twitching as you attempted to take every inch. Mouth wide, saliva dripping on either side of your gaped mouth. Eddie tensed as he felt your throat constricting around him, swallowing. Taking him deep until you were gagging. He almost doubled over, veins in his hands at attention as he gripped your hair to try to maintain self-control.

“Fuck, baby, I’m not going to last long like this,” he admitted, head thrown back. A goner. You licked the underside of his cock one last time, giving his tip a little peck and crawled over his frame, nails scratching lightly across his chest. He looked at you with a heavy gaze, thumb wiping the saliva that dripped on your chin and back to your lips. You wrapped your plump lips around his thumb, tongue darting across it. A tease. His cock twitched underneath you as you wiggled on his lap. Needy. He removed his thumb, jaw agape as he watched. He leaned in, mouth connecting with yours and kissed you until neither of you could breathe. His tongue flicked over the seam of your lips, the kiss deepening as he swallowed your shaky gasps. Rubbing your arousal against his hard length. Sensitive clit throbbing with each swipe. You pulled away panting, eyes heavy with lust. Dazed.

“Fucking hell,” he gasped as he clung to you, his hands reaching up to unclasp your bra. Your breasts bounced out and he kneaded the ample flesh, eyes fixated on your perked nipples.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed as he took one into his mouth, sucking. Nibbling. Watching as you keened at his touch. You reached beneath you and gripped him firmly, lining him up with your entrance and slowly began to sink down. He eased in easier but was still a stretch. You circled your hips pulling more of him in until your cunt was wrapped tightly around every inch of him. There was a dull ache where you were connected, stretching over his girth. Eddie wrapped his arms around your middle, eyebrows scrunched at the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around his cock.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, fingers digging into your sides and likely to leave evidence of his touch. You adjusted to his length, breathless and stuffed full. Eddie pressed his nose to your neck as he held you, hissing as you lifted your hips off his lap. His cheeks were flushed pink, sweat beading on his chest. He moved his hands below your ass, kneading it and spreading you apart. You clenched around him as he spread you, both of you gasping at the sensation. Eddie helped ease you up, bringing you back down over his length. The sound of your flesh slapping together filling the room. His lips were back on yours and he swallowed your moans as you picked up the pace, hips creating circles whenever you reached his tip in a tease. He slapped your ass at every taunt of your hips, and you clenched with each contact of his hand against your butt cheek. He held you firmly against him, arms wrapped around your waist and began rutting into you. Balls slapping against you with each thrust.

“Oh fuck, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you screamed his name, rubber band threatening to snap inside you as he continued.

“Yeah, baby? Going to be a good girl and cum for me again?” You clenched at the nickname.

“Oh you like being called a good girl, don’t you sweetheart?” You nodded, unable to form a sentence or find the words. Only able to pant his name as he continued to stretch you.

“Make sure you ask me before you do,” he instructed, his hand reached between the two of you. His thumb found your clit and Eddie began rubbing it in mean circles. You jolted at the contact, your thighs a mess from your building release. Your nails dug into Eddie’s shoulder, scratching at the muscle as the pressure built.

“Please, Eddie, please let me cum?” You asked between heavy breaths, vision turning white as the climax built.

“Fuck yes, sweetheart, cum all over my cock like a good girl,” he hummed watching as your head tilted and your eyes rolled, pussy fluttering around his length as the rubber band snapped. You could feel the climax throughout your body, goosebumps forming on the skin of your arms as Eddie continued to pump into you. Overstimulated, tears brimming your eyes as your sensitive cunt was stretched.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m going to cum,” his hips sputtered as he bucked into you with one final thrust. His nails digging into the fat of your ass, his cock twitching as he came. He pumped you full, walls painted with his release. Eddie held you, hands less firm and rubbing soft circles where he dug into your skin. He pecked your bare chest, lips sliding over your breasts, up your sternum and to your neck. Softer. Sweeter. He found your lips and kissed you with a saccharine grin. Curly bangs sticking to his forehead. You looked at him closely, his face smeared with the red of your lipstick and you giggled at the mess. He raised a curious brow as you began to wipe it away.

“I’m sorry I made such a mess out of you,” you teased.

“I think I’m the one who should be apologizing,” and you could feel the mix of yours and his release running down your thighs. Your hearts were beating rapidly, your hands splayed on the muscle of his chest and something about his gaze made you suddenly shy. You hid in his chest, planting sweet kisses along his pecs. Eddie tilted your chin.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he lifted you gently, placing you beside him on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss before venturing down the hall to find the restroom. You listened as he grabbed a washcloth, the sound of the water running, and the soft pads of his feet as he returned. He was gentle as he ran the cloth over your sensitive cunt, cock twitching at your gasps. He tossed the damp cloth into the hamper and watched you, admired the outline of your frame.

“I want to draw you just like this,” he remarked, eyes tracing over your frame. Breathing beginning to return to normal, hitching every time you met his gaze. You covered your mouth as you giggled.

“Like one of your French girls, Jack?”

“If you’ll let me, Rose,” he leaned over, teeth grazing your lower lip and you gasped. Returning the affection with a dart of your tongue, sucking on his bottom lip. He groaned, the length of his cock hardening with each pass of your lips against his.

“Maybe another time,” you suggested between kisses, and he nodded already pushing you further up the bed.

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the-fiction-witch · 8 months

Text

Night Newt

Media TMR Death Cure

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Smut

Concept Across the church

Smut Partial & Full Nudity / Stripping / Masturbation / Risk of getting caught / Full sex / Riding/Silent sex / cumming inside

I sat on my small excuse for a bed still nursing my neck, often checking if the bleeding had yet to stop but there was always more on the tissue. I checked again and it was clean enough so I threw it away and started to fix my hair back to normal.

I heard footsteps across the old church floor and I saw it was Newt he came over and smiled

"Hey I found a couple more blankets" he says offering me one

"Ohh thanks, newt"

"No worries, try and get some sleep alright love"

"I'll try" I nodded "Sleep tight newt"

He chuckled a moment "You too"

He then headed away across the church to the small corner he had proclaimed as his own where his own excuse for a bed sat he threw his blanket on the bed with his other covers ran a hand through his hair and then slipped off the dark red shirt he had been wearing tossing it to a pile in the corner leaving him in his cargo trousers and his long sleeve white shirt now grey from the sweat, dust and dirt of all the time between its last wash and now. He rolled his sleeves up and grabbed his bottle from the side having to crane his head back far to get the last few drops inside it so much so I could watch his Adam's apple Bob as he swallowed before returning the bottle to the side of was then we locked eyes and I blushed to look away somewhat embarrassed I got caught looking at him, then again not sure why I had continued to look at him? It's Newt. I've seen him every day for as long as I can remember. He gave me a little wave and I waved back feeling the awkwardness of it all. I decided just to go to bed so I got up to swap my shirt over to sleep not thinking about much and turning away to swap my shirt to the one I used to sleep far too big for me of course almost reaching my knees meaning I was then covered to kick my trousers off and as I did I turned back and caught eyes with newt again this time he was watching me rather in depth so I kicked my trouser off and kinda glared at him he rubbed the back of his neck a little blushing where he got caught and he shrugged. I checked everyone else was still busy in the main part of the church and I headed across to the edge of his little area my hands behind my back as I spoke as quietly as I could

"Do you mind?"

"What?" He asked as hushed as me

"Staring newt"

"So? You started it" he smirked leaning closer so we could whisper without the threat of discovery "Don't stare at me I won't stare at you"

"Well… you can't blame a girl for looking newt"

"Then you can't blame a boy for looking, essentially when you flash that much skin"

"Like you haven't seen it before in the glade"

"Doesn't mean I don't wanna see it"

"I thought you were tired?"

"I am. Now it's going to be even harder to get to sleep"

"Sure goodnight newt"

"Night love"

I headed back to my own bed even if I purposely tugged my shirt a little higher as I walked I climbed into my little bed wrapping the sheets around me he too climbed into his bed leaning in the wall to slyly smile at me I smirked and moved my hand back unclipping my bra and pulling it out from under my shirt tossing it with my other clothes all of which he watched and seemed very amused by, in response his hands slipped under his blankets he checked we were still completely alone and after some shuffling, he pulled his trousers from the blanket and threw them with his shirt giving me a sick smile. I smirked and tugged my shirt up enough that he could see my bare stomach he looked incredibly eager biting his lip hard and leant forward in his anticipation when he noticed I had stopped he got frustrated but tugged his blankets down and his shirt up enough to reveal his hips, his rather prominent v and lower stomach biting his bottom lip a little before he looked at me expectantly. I blushed hard but tugged my shirt up holding it tight to my body lifting it but keeping my hands tight to my chest protecting myself letting my shirt expose my underboob and little else but that was more than enough for him just the flash of skin was enough his hand moving under the blankets slowly. I dropped my shirt back and looked at him equally as expectantly he blushed a little but again glanced to check we were alone before both hands slipped under his blankets shifting a moment before finally a pair of red boxers exited the blankets and were hidden under his other clothes he leant back on his elbows and smirked at me shifting his hips he glances down suggestively before looking back at me.

I giggled a little moving my hands under to gently push of my panties tugging them off leaving me exposed under the blankets I made sure he caught a look at my panties as I took them from the covers and hid them under my clothes too, this almost caused him to groan clearly very over excited his hand now staying under the covers his eyes pleaded with me for more but I merely smirked slyly to him he didn't need to be told twice slipping his shirt off throwing it with the rest of his clothes leaving him naked but the blanket he stared longingly at my shirt before he smirked, for a moment I didn't know what to do but I felt such a rush knowing anyone could come around the corner any moment I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it off me leaving me completely exposed to him it was only a couple seconds before I grabbed the blanket pulling it up to hide myself turning bring red, his mouth wide he almost actually moaned clearly very much enjoyed what he saw so much so I could see his hand moving under the blanket once I tucked the covers tight under my arms to protect me I smirked at him expectantly and he turned bright red his hand leaving the blankets sitting ontop of them a moment before he quickly pushed the covers down revealing his hard erection to me stood tall with precum dripping down from his head half way down his shaft prominent veins across it where he was clearly desperate and it has obviously been a while since he got any sort of attention but as quick as I did he returned the covers up to his waist blushing hard, unfortunately we now sat at a bit of a stale mate with nothing else to really reveal to each other but he smirked and look at at my blankets I shot him a questionable glance and he meerly smirked back expectantly I blushed hard but moved my legs wide and quickly pulled my blanket up to my wasit letting him see me for a good few seconds reveling in the thrill of it all before I quickly dropped it back down he looked as much as he could in that time his hand returning to himself under the covers inaudible mumbling but I could read his lips

"Fuck"

I stared back expectantly and he looked at me a little confused but I merely shrugged looking at his arm and that was enough for him to figure out what I wanted, he didn't hesitate to push the covers back to expose his cock again this time keeping his hand on his shaft I knew I didn't have long do I took on everything but gave him a sly smirk to which he smiled and stroked up and down the shaft a good four times staring at me as he did before quickly covering up again

I blushed and blew him a little kiss and he happily blew me one back before looking at me slyly I blushed hard checking the corner again before I tugged the covers up again letting him see me and gently rubbing my fingers across myself feeling the wetness there rubbing on my clit a little before covering up again, of course, he watched with delight his hand working fast under the covers but as soon as I covered up he looked so desperately frustrated he bit his lip glanced around and let out a long exhale before looking back at me with an intense look that softened into a smile, and he simply held his hand close to his chest and slowly curled his index finger towards himself suggestively a couple of times.

I blushed but grabbed my shirt using it like a dress to conceal me as I left my bed and quietly scampered over to his little corner

"Yes, newt?"

"Get in here" he demanded quietly

"What if someone comes"

"I don't care" he snapped grabbing my arm and pulling me into his bed with him so I laid ontop of him I immediately blushed but wrapped my legs around his hips as his arms wrapped around me making sure the blanket covered us both before pulling me into an intense lusty kiss, we did our best not to moan even if we both desperately wanted too as our hands explored one another seductively but we made sure we made as little noise as possible as to not attract attention even if the sounds of our lips locking seemed so loud to me at this point my shirt tucked up so much so we could press our bodies together, after a few minutes of our kisses he held my hips and gently rubbed his erection against me I smiled into the kiss and nodded, which was all he needed as we both gently shifted until I slipped down his erection luckily our kiss covering our groans as I reached the base we both pulled back gasping a little before we slowly began our movements making sure to be as slow and quiet as possible often having to stop, slow or eve cover our mouths to prevent Discovery but it got to the point neither of us cared if someone heard or if someone found out all we wanted was release moving fast and hard nuzzled up together as we both got closer and closer to the edge until after a few quick thrusts I hit my wall biting his neck as I did to keep my quiet slowing almost to a stop with only really his guiding and thrusts keeping us moving as I felt the rush of pleasure thought my body causing me to shake which in turn drove him utterly crazy holding me tightly not thrusting mercliclessly desperate for his own which quickly came burying himself deep inside me as he hit his own moaning at first but quickly putting his hand over his mouth as he buried his cum inside me as deep as he could we both collapsed in his blankets exaughsted peppering little kisses on each other till we had some strength back. He pulled out and I covered up and we shared a sweet kiss before I went back to my own bed just in time as the moment I got under my covers gally came around the corner to his own sleeping area not far from us almost in between them.

"Hu? Are you guys hot or something?' He asked given Newt was shirtless and swear covered and I too was pretty sweaty and still getting my breath back

"Yeah something like that" Newt smiled secretly grabbing his clothes and pulling them under his blankets to get them back on without being caught which I quickly did too "Well night" Gally says quickly getting under his covers

"Night gal" Newt nods

"Night" I smiled "Night newt" I waved

"Night y/n" he waves back. I secretly blew him a little kiss and he winked at me before we both actually got some sleep.

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translucent-sun · 4 months

Text

“Am I even allowed to be here?” Cody asked as they walked through the temple. The war room, other parts that were now used for military purposes, sure. But the depths of the temple, the Jedi´s home?

“You´re here on my invite,” Obi-Wan chuckled. “But even if I hadn´t, you´re always welcome in the temple. You all are.”

When they finally reached the door to Obi-Wan´s quarters and quick fingers flew over the datapad by the door, it opened with a quiet hiss. Cody waited until Obi-Wan had fully stepped into the room before carefully leaned forward, taking a look around what he could see of the room. He was waiting for Obi-Wan´s OK to step in, but instead was pulled inside by his arm. Now seeing the full extent of the quarters, his mouth almost fell open.

“This is nice,” he said. The room was bigger than any single person´s room he´d ever seen, with a big window spanning almost an entire wall. Which Obi-Wan now walked towards, shutting the blinds partly.

“Well, I suppose it is more room than I really need,” Obi-Wan said, something in his tone of voice almost apologetic. But it was probably true. There wasn´t much in the room. A simple table to work and to eat from. Two cushions in the middle of the room, likely for meditation or whatever Jedi did in their free time. A wardrobe. Cody couldn´t help but to wonder how many identical robes it housed, and the thought almost made him chuckle.

The other side of the room held a small counter, though the only thing on it was a kettle and a handful of mismatched mugs. A narrow bed was standing against the wall, surrounded by wooden boards that served as shelves, overfilled with… Stuff. Most of it seemed so random. He looked at it all for a moment, unable to decide what to really look at first, fascinated.

“What is all this?” Obi-Wan smiled, passing Cody to take a little wooden cube off one shelf.

“Little trinkets from places, planets I´ve visited. Some I didn´t visit. A lot of them used to belong to my Master.”

His small smile remained the same, but his eyes betrayed him. “This particular one was a gift from a little girl I met on a mission. Her name was Da’laa,” he said before placing the cube back in its place, already moving on to the next. Cody wanted to ask him about it, but he felt it wasn´t his place. He´d have to do that some other time, some day in the future when they´d gotten to know each other better.

This time, he motioned for Cody to put out his hand, and Obi-Wan placed the next object inside. Cody almost jerked back when he felt its warmth, but Obi-Wan held his hand in place, closing Cody´s fingers around it.

“What is this?” Cody asked, aware that he wasn´t able to hide his surprise. Obi-Wan chuckled, letting go of his hand, allowing him to take a look at it. A small rock was lying in his palm, seemingly burning from the inside, its bright orange glow cracking through the otherwise dark surface. Cody had never seen anything like it.

“It´s a bahryn meteorite. Well, a small piece of one,” he explained, looking at it in Cody´s hand, smiling. “It´s like a tiny sun, isn´t it? Keeping you warm, lighting up the darkness. Quite ironically, it´s an ice moon they are found on.”

“It´s beautiful,” Cody said. He inspected it for a moment longer before he handed it back to Obi-Wan and watched him as he carefully put it back in its place. “Even on a moon made of ice there has to be some warmth. Almost like a reward. You probably appreciate it a lot more after almost freezing to death.” From the corner of his eye he saw Obi-Wan watching him curiously.

“I didn´t know you were so poetic,” Obi-Wan said, something that could so easily sound mocking. But it was genuine. Embarrassed, Cody turned.

“You know all there is to know about me,” he countered. Obi-Wan hummed, passing him to put on the kettle.

“I doubt that,” he said, and something about his certainty made Cody want to argue. Before he could, though, Obi-Wan continued. “What´s your favorite color?” The question took him aback.

“What?” No one had ever asked him that, and yet he found that he didn´t have to think about the answer. Obi-Wan started to repeat the question, but Cody interrupted him. “Green.” Obi-Wan nodded.

“Why?” Cody hesitated. Obi-Wan poured two cups of tea, and even while setting them down, he never stopped looking at Cody for longer than a moment, expectantly. He gestured for him to sit.

“Thank you,” he took the cup Obi-Wan pushed towards him. He hesitated for a moment longer. “Growing up on Kamino…” he began, fumbling with the cup´s handle. “Well, you know what Kamino looks like. I´d never seen trees or grass or anything like that before we left to continue our training here. I´d heard descriptions, variations of what General Ti must have told some of my brothers when we were kids, and they modified it with each telling until it sounded mystical, with glowing leaves and shimmering meadows, whispering in the wind. So before I first saw any of that, I loved the idea of it.” Obi-Wan listened intently, a small smile on his lips.

“Did it look the way you expected it to?” he asked, and Cody huffed.

“Absolutely not. I was disappointed, to be honest. It was just green. But I think it was experiencing it for the first time that made me love the color anyway.” Obi-Wan smiled fondly.

“See? That´s two things I didn´t know about you.” Cody averted his gaze, trying to keep their eyes from meeting. He really hadn´t intended to discuss private matters like that with anyone, so why was it so easy with Obi-Wan? Something about his presence made him want to open up, tell him everything about his past, his thoughts and dreams. It sounded so good, so easy, that for a second, it outweighed the ridiculousness of it and he felt his heartrate rise, a strange feeling spreading through his stomach.

“So what is yours, then?” he asked, ignoring the feeling. Obi-Wan smiled, closing his eyes for a moment.

“I love the colors of the sunrise. Its changing hues and the promise of a new day…” Cody smiled as he watched Obi-Wan get caught up in the thought.

“I didn´t know you were so poetic,” Cody said through a grin.

“Are you teasing me, Commander?” Obi-Wan asked, his tone serious, and Cody felt heat rise in his cheeks.

“I wouldn´t dare to.” There was that feeling in his stomach again. In his chest now, too. Obi-Wan´s serious face fell and his smile returned, growing bigger the longer he looked at Cody. And Cody´s heart was racing, the sound in his ears muffling everything around him. If he wasn´t already sitting, he´d be sure that he was going to faint. It would be so easy now to give in to his feelings, to lean across the table and kiss Obi-Wan. To walk him backwards towards his bed until they stumble onto it, to— Cody wrapped his fingers tightly around the hot mug in his hands, trying to ground himself in reality. It didn´t help much, though. He tried to force the thought out of his mind. Could Obi-Wan sense what he was feeling? Did the Force work like that? Cody hoped not.

“So, Abrion Bridge,” he changed the topic, watching as the smile faded from Obi-Wan´s face.

The next hour or so was a painful one, talking about their failure. It was hard to think of it as anything but. They´d gotten what they went there for, but at a cost so high that it felt pointless. They concluded that there was nothing they could´ve done to change a second of it. Obi-Wan gathered the papers that were spread over the entire desk between them. He´d insisted on making notes and drawing alternative plans on paper, saying that it would help them get a better overview rather than their datapads. And Cody had been amazed at the simple fact that he had paper. Though it made sense for the temple, for the Jedi. It almost had something spiritual, compared to the cold, soulless feeling of the technology and its cold, blue light. Obi-Wan rolled them up now and placed them in the bin, sighing. He headed towards his bed, sitting on the edge and letting himself fall back. Cody had risen too, and was now looking at him, unsure of what to do. Without looking up, Obi-Wan patted the empty space beside him, and Cody hesitated. Could he do that? His feet decided he could before his mind had processed the thought, and he was sitting on the edge beside him.

“I want this all to be over,” Obi-Wan suddenly said. “This war, the endless battles, being told that another person you grew up with has been killed. This endless pain.” Cody wasn´t sure what to say. He turned to him, but Obi-Wan still wasn´t looking.

“I never knew anything else,” he tried, carefully. Finally, Obi-Wan took a deep breath, turning his head to face him.

“But how do you take it? Those men are your brothers. How do you deal with losing hundreds, thousands of them at a time?” His voice sounded so close to breaking, desperate for answers. Answers Cody couldn´t give him. None that would change a thing.

“Well, we were trained from early on, to—we were taught that we were expendable. Where ten of us are killed, they will send ten new ones. They´ll send hundred new ones, a thousand if necessary. I´m not sure if we´re not physically capable of processing it too deeply or for too long, or if we were just trained to pretend that we are fine with it. It is painful every time. But there´s nothing we can do. If we don´t believe we´re expendable ourselves, we might just go insane realizing what´s happening.” Cody huffed, and Obi-Wan stared at him, eyes wide. Cody shrugged. “This is the only purpose we have. We were made for war. They would probably prefer if we couldn´t think on our own at all.”

“You´re awfully aware of something you say you´re not supposed to be aware of.” Obi-Wan´s voice was quiet, sad. “Why is that?” Cody had never thought about why. It just was.

“I´m not sure,” he admitted. “I have just always felt it. Deep down I always knew what was happening.” Obi-Wan hummed, turning back to stare at the ceiling once again, seemingly unsure of what to say.

“I wish we could´ve met under different circumstances.” Cody smiled.

“Under different circumstances, we wouldn´t have met at all,” Cody reminded him and Obi-Wan sighed.

“I know. I just wish we could have a normal friendship, one that isn´t centered around death and destruction and loss.” Cody´s breath stocked for a moment. Obi-Wan considered him a friend. Of course he knew they´d gotten close, but Obi-Wan calling him a friend? Cody knew brotherhood, he´d experienced it thousands of times, but friendship? Was this what friendship felt like? The tingling in his chest when he looked at Obi-Wan lying there, his face contorted in frustration, told him that what he felt was more, even with no prior experience to compare it to.

“It doesn´t have to be,” he said, feeling brave. Obi-Wan glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “It can also be moments like this. Quiet. Where you ask me to tell you things I´ve never told anyone before, and you show me things from all the places you´ve visited. You tell me about your life before this war started.” Obi-Wan smiled.

“I would like that very much.”

“Me too.” Cody´s heart was beating fast. It would´ve been so easy to lean down and kiss Obi-Wan. To caress his cheek, thread his fingers through his hair, and to kiss him. To be pulled against him and held on tightly. Sighing, Obi-Wan sat up straight, pulling Cody out of his thoughts.

“I suppose that will have to wait, though,” he said, mild annoyance in his voice. “I have a meeting with the council this evening.”

“Anything important?” Cody chuckled at his exasperation, and Obi-Wan looked at him with something in his eyes that Cody couldn´t place, something that softened his entire face.

“Yes, quite so,” he sighed. “There have been talks about a mission, and this morning it has been assigned to Anakin and me. We haven´t gotten many details yet, I´m hoping that will change tonight. I´m not a big fan of this secrecy.” Cody smiled. He knew how much Obi-Wan liked to be prepared, they were so similar in that way. Being left without details for so long was excruciating.

“I should get going then,” Cody suggested. “Will you tell me about the plan and let me know before you leave?” Obi-Wan nodded.

“Of course I will,” he said. “I won´t go anywhere without telling you.” Obi-Wan sighed. “And you´re probably right, we don´t want your brothers to start worrying.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he said this, the slightest evidence of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and Cody felt himself getting nervous again.

“Alright.” Cody rose, almost frantically he realized. “I´ll see you then.” He could swear he felt Obi-Wan´s amused look at the back of his neck as he made for the door, desperate to hide the blush he knew Obi-Wan wouldn´t even see. The amusement was there in his voice when he spoke, too.

“I´ll see you, Commander.”

#codywan #commander cody #from the codywan thing im attempting to write #obi wan kenobi #star wars #my writing #first time in obi-wans chambers

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dailydragon08 · 1 year

Text

Soft Comforts

See my full masterlist here.

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader Summary: In the depth of night on Yavin IV, you give both Luke and Grogu comfort against their fears. Requested by @acupnoodle. A/N: "Remnants" is a series of one shots in no particular order about the budding relationship between you and Luke as he trains you in the ways of the Force. Slight mention of future pregnancy at the end. Read here on AO3.

Something woke you from your deep sleep, or the lack of something did. You opened your eyes to the darkness of your and Luke's shared bedroom and sighed at the empty side of the bed. He'd been doing this more often lately. The reason was obvious: you'd found another Force-sensitive child and he was leaving in a few days to see if they wanted to become a padawan. So far, Grogu was your only student and although Luke was an instant master at teaching, you knew he still stressed over whether he was good enough—whether he could complete the task Yoda had set in front of him. You never doubted him, but you could understand. You doubted your own teaching skills many times. And just like how he always comforted you, you pulled yourself out of bed to do the same for him.

You shivered in your oversized t-shirt as you padded down the cold hallway barefoot. Your hut on Yavin IV consisted of two bedrooms, an adjoining refresher, a small kitchen, and a workshop Luke had sequestered himself in. He sat on a stool with his back to you, hunched over your broken lightsaber hilt. Tools were scattered everywhere with his jacket thrown haphazardly over the table's edge.

Words felt too difficult in your groggy state, so you simply wrapped your arms around his middle, laying your cheek on the bit of bare shoulder exposed by his tank top.

He sighed and paused in his work, laying a hand on top of yours. "Hi, sweetheart. Sorry I woke you."

"'S okay," you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep. "Making any progress?"

"Almost there." He chuckled and leaned his head against yours. "You really did a number on it."

"Didn't mean to. Grogu was distracting me."

"Hm, he's good at that. What was he doing this time?"

"Trying to chase a butterfly off a cliff."

He laughed. "Oh, Maker."

You hesitated. "It'll still be there in the morning, you know. And so will the next child."

He didn't respond, just squeezed your hand harder in his.

You moved to stand before him, plopping on his lap and squeezing between him and the table. He readily opened his arms for you and pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your neck as you leaned yours on his shoulder. Your fingers weaved into the hair at the back of his head and began to gently massage. He sighed and you felt him melt underneath you, running a hand along the curve of your side.

"I'll miss you when I'm away," he murmured in your ear. "We've never been apart for this long."

"I know." You kissed his jaw softly and nuzzled into his neck as his fingers ran through your hair. "I'll miss you, too…Promise me you'll be careful."

"I will. Try not to walk off any cliffs chasing after Grogu."

You laughed sleepily and pulled back to look at him, gently tracing the contours of his face with your thumb. He smiled softly at the gesture, closing his eyes as you stroked your fingers over the bags underneath. "You know, it's a lot easier to be careful when you've had enough sleep."

His face fell. "I just…" He opened his eyes and leaned into your touch. "Rebuilding the Jedi…is a lot."

"I know. You're not doing it alone though."

His smile returned and you felt his love for you flow through the Force. "I know. I'm so glad I found you and that you're here."

You pressed your lips to his, reveling in his greedy reciprocation and the press of his hands against your skin. For several moments, you just let yourself get lost in his taste and smell. His upcoming trip would likely be uneventful, but you still committed everything to memory to keep you warm while he was away: the silkiness of his hair, his Tatooine-roughened and pockmarked skin, the gentle insistence of his hands, the swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip.

Before you could get too distracted, you began to pull away, laughing against his mouth when he leaned forward to follow you.

He chuckled with you. "Where are you going?"

"I need to tell—mmph." He cut you off with another deep kiss that almost made you forget what you wanted to say all over again. You stared at him for a moment and took his face between your hands. "You're doing amazing and I'm really proud of you."

His blue eyes widened slightly and you could feel a multitude of emotions burst through the Force as he burrowed his face into your shoulder. He pressed a soft, but insistent kiss to your skin. "I love you."

You sighed against him. "I love you, too."

"You've made my life incredible…even if you are a shirt thief."

You laughed and pulled back to look at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He smiled. "Mm-hmm, I've been wondering where this shirt went."

"Oh no, this isn't your shirt."

He adjusted his legs so you were pressed even closer to his chest, holding you tightly. "Oh, just a coincidence that it looks exactly the same?"

You nodded, biting back your smile as he shook his head. His hand gently caressed the back of your head before pulling you forward to press his forehead to yours. You gently bumped your nose against his before giving him another lingering kiss. "This shirt thief wants you back in bed. We can worry about my lightsaber tomorrow."

"Ooohhh, so now you'll admit it."

"Do you want it back?"

He laughed. "No. It looks better on you anyway."

"Well, you'll have to take it back and wear it again at some point. How else will it smell like you?"

"Maker, you're impossible. And very lucky you're cute."

You laughed and slid off his lap, wrapping his discarded jacket around your shoulders. "Well, if you want this back, you'll have to come back to bed."

Your heart fluttered at the smile he gave you, abandoning your saber to take your hand and follow you back to the bedroom. As you navigated the dark hallway and settled back into bed, you could sense his pride, love, admiration, and a little arousal through the Force. He sighed in contentment as you laid your head against his chest.

"Incoming," he murmured into your hair.

Before you could question him, the door to your bedroom creaked open slightly and a tiny silhouette with large ears toddled towards your bed. You smiled at the tiny groans and grunts that left him as he hauled himself up onto the mattress. He was trying to be sneaky, but you could see his head bobbing under the covers and felt his ears bump against your legs.

You couldn't hold in your laugh. "We can see you, Grogu."

The covers lifted to reveal two large eyes and downturned ears. He made a little squeal of discontent, and you could sense his nervousness and lingering nightmare through the Force.

"You're perfectly safe here, Grogu," Luke said, gently petting his head. "Remember, don't let your fears consume you. We're here to protect you, just down the hall."

He cooed sadly and his ears sloped down even more. He turned his big dark eyes to you and even in the dark, you could picture his pleading face perfectly. You turned to Luke. "Well…one late-night cuddle session wouldn't hurt, right?"

Luke looked back and forth between you in the dark and laughed as his head fell back against the pillow. "I can't handle both of you doing the eyes at once…All right, but just for tonight."

Grogu chirped happily before crawling to settle against your chest, his little green hands gripping your shirt. You smiled as he nuzzled into you, glancing at Luke as he wrapped an arm around you to bring you both closer.

His fingers gently brushed your cheek. "You look good…holding a child."

You met his gaze. "Yeah?"

He smiled and kissed your hair. "Yeah."

"What are you gonna do about it, Skywalker?"

"I can think of several things."

#star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #luke skywalker #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker imagine #star wars imagine #luke skywalker x fem!reader #luke skywalker x jedi!reader #star wars remnants #my writing #luke skywalker fluff #luke skywalker comfort

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burningblake · 1 year

Note

Chenford + they have a d&m about their feelings

+ prompts: Chenford + "when did you fall for me?" / Chenford +She feels the same way / Chenford + you're my person

The jeep's engine rattles to a stop across the street of her apartment. It's past midnight, she's spent all these hours with him, and still she doesn't want to end their time together. He doesn't seem any eager to let her go either, which makes her beam at him.

His hand moves from the speed lever to grab her hand. He intertwines his fingers with hers and gives her a soft smile. She doesn't know if her heart is ever going to get used to him leaning forward for a kiss, because once again it lurches in her chest, with the same accuracy that it did that first time in her apartment.

His mouth is hard on hers, burning with all the anguish of even a brief goodbye. When their lips part and their eyes meet, there's only bare traces of that anguish in his gaze, and she can tell that he's guarding most of the power of his feelings for her. She knows by how her lips are still ablaze, her soul restless in the wake of his touch.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he says earnestly.

She turns her body fully towards his direction and rests her head back on the seat, her eyes glued to his. Her voice is barely above a whisper. "You know, I don't have to go upstairs right away. We can sit here for at least another hour."

Tim slowly mirrors her position, relaxing into her gaze. "Does the cover story for today cover this transgression?"

She smiles smugly. "What do you think? It's trivia night, I will simply claim it went until late."

He shakes his head. "You're quite good at this."

"Well, all that UC training has to pay off somehow."

"No, you were good even before that."

She tilts her head, raising her eyebrow. She doesn't know if she's ever going to get used to him praising her.

He smiles. "If I didn't know better, I would think Lucy, and not Nova, was the one flirting with me back during your second UC mission."

His words leave her staring at him in quiet surprise. Because she remembers that part of the mission fondly, but she wouldn't have expected him to remember. It was around that time that she had started considering she might see him as more than a friend.

She fixes his gaze. "Well, you didn't know better."

His expression slowly grows from confusion to surprise and then shock as her words sink in.

"Come on," she says quietly, shaking her head, "even if it wasn't quite obvious at that moment, it certainly became obvious when I stayed at your place later."

He's still speechless, and even though she feels out of her depth having started this conversation, she fires on, because she can't stop herself. "There was a moment, you hugged me and then we almost kissed. And then later, when you went to your bedroom, I couldn't sleep, I kept thinking that you were in the other room. I almost joined you."

His eyes widen, his jaw slacks. He glances at her mouth, then focuses on her eyes again. "I can imagine what would have happened if you had. I mean, I would have probably told you that you were too vulnerable from Jackson's death and that you weren't thinking clearly." His words hurt, even though they're talking about a hypothetical past. But then he continues, "But I was also restless that night, I fought with the idea of coming to you. So I don't know if I'd be able to resist you for long. I'd probably kiss you in a moment of weakness and then we'd both live to regret it in the morning."

"Maybe," she concurs. "Or maybe we'd realize that Jackson's death uncovered some true feelings that already existed."

She looks into his eyes, waiting for him to confirm or deny that they did.

Tim smiles lovingly and lifts his palm to stroke her cheek. "You've always been more in tune with your feelings than I've been with mine. It took me long to name my feelings for you. I denied even thinking about the possibility, because I was scared of what it would mean. I even tried to run away, choosing to be with a person that wasn't the least suitable for me, and even then I didn't want to admit that this was what I was doing. And then the truth came crashing on me. By that time, I was already too far gone to be able to understand how or when it happened."

She nods, smiling. "That's… a wonderful answer."

He grins. "It's the truth."

"I'm glad that we finally agree that Ashley wasn't suitable for you."

He looks at her incredulously. "And Chris was?"

"No. But that's not the point."

They both laugh. Tim leans in and kisses her softly.

When he pulls back, he whispers, "I am in tune with my feelings now, you know."

"Oh really?"

He nods. "I came in full sync with them a few weeks ago, in fact, when I almost died."

It becomes incredibly silent in the car. She realizes that she's holding her breath.

Tim's eyes move to their entangled hands as he speaks. "I mean, of course, I kept thinking that we still hadn't gone on our proper first date, but I also thought of… other key moments that I would miss experiencing with you." He looks upwards again and smiles, as though to lighten the heaviness of his words, but it's impossible. "Marriage, kids, grandkids. I realized then that you're my person, the person I want to spend the rest of my life with." His voice becomes almost a whisper and a knot appears in it suddenly. "Lucy, you're the love of my life."

Her breath comes out with a sound that's half a choked whimper and half the happiest laugh. Her smile is so broad, her cheeks almost hurt. Tears rise up to her eyes, her entire soul pouring into them.

She eases herself forward, until their foreheads are touching, her hand cupping his cheek. "I want all of that, too," she whispers. "I've never felt like this for anyone before." She gives him a nudge, holding his gaze firmly. "I love you."

The happiness that registers in his expression is like nothing she’s seen before on him.

"I love you, too," he almost chants, before his lips are on hers again.

His hands roam up and down her shoulders, as their kiss becomes a tangle of teeth and tongues and tears. They make out for so long, she loses track of time.

This time, when he looks at her again, there's no filter there.

Her thoughts fill with the uninvited memory of the desperation she'd witnessed on him early in their relationship, whenever they chanced on his wife. She couldn't understand someone loving another person with such force back then, let alone loving them more.

Because the way Tim is looking at her now is more. It takes her breath away. And the craziest part is, she understands exactly how he feels. For the first time in her life, she feels the same way.

(masterlist)

#chenford fanfic #chenford #the rookie #tim x lucy #if you didn't figure it out this is set before the start of 5.12 (the night that tamara claimed she saw tim drop off lucy at her apartment)#i also included an earlier 'i love you' confession even though i still hope it will happen on screen lol

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daevastanner · 1 year

Text

C H A P T E R N I N E

“And then he gives me a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.”

― Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games

Fifteen years after the ceremony…

Azriel followed Gwyn through the House, his legs having to extend to their full length to keep pace with her. To say she was excited to meet Nesta and Cassian’s newborn was an understatement. Gwyn and Emerie had been almost as eager for the babe as the new parents.

Laughter spilled from the cracked doorway at the end of the sunlit hall and Gwyn tossed a bright smile over her shoulder at Azriel before barreling into the room. He followed after her, an amused smile on his lips as he entered on her heels.

He stepped in just in time to see Gwyn charging towards the bed where Nesta lay, Feyre and Emerie perched on the edge of the mattress beside her. Nesta’s eyes lifted to see Gwyn, the steely blue depths immediately sparkling with tears as her fellow Valkyrie bounded over to sit on the remaining space beside her.

“Look at her!” Gwyn gasped, peering down at the bundle tucked against the eldest Archeron’s chest. “Nesta, she’s beautiful.”

Nesta’s gaze flicked to Azriel who offered her a warm smile of greeting. Something relieved flickered in her eyes, as though she were thanking him for giving her this margin of space. Just as Rhys knew when Gwyn needed a willing ear, and Cassian knew when Feyre had to blow off steam, Azriel was always aware of when Nesta needed space; sometimes going as far as to herd away Emerie and Gwyn during the pregnancy when their attention became too much for her to bear.

Allowing Nesta to bask in the adoration of her sisters, Azriel crossed the bed-chambers to the corner where Rhys and Cassian stood, speaking in hushed but happy voices. Enjoying this moment of peace.

While they’d had no reason to anticipate any complications with Nesta’s pregnancy, Cassian had still been a nervous wreck in recent weeks. One night he’d even sought out Azriel asking if he knew the location of the harp ‘just in case’ something were to go wrong with the delivery. Azriel and Rhys had talked the male down, reminding him that Madja had time and time again confirmed there was no reason to fear the birthing process. Eventually he’d stopped prying for the location of the harp and settled down, but tension had still lurked in the hard line of his mouth these past few weeks.

Today, he was more at ease than Azriel had ever seen him. The smile on his face seemingly permanently etched in place.

“Congratulations, Cas,” Azriel said, joining the two winged males.

Cassian’s gaze flitted from Rhys to Nesta, then to Azriel, his broad grin growing even wider. “Thank you.” His eyes glinted wickedly. “It’s just you and Gwyn and Emerie and Mor without babes now, Az. You better get busy so you can join Rhys, Lucien and myself on the spring father’s trip.”

Ah, yes. After Lucien and Elain had welcomed their first child, Rhys and the High Lord of Spring had begun to bond over ‘fatherhood’ taking yearly retreats together where only ‘fathers’ were permitted. Helion had joined them last year but had said they did too much sleeping and not enough merry-making for him to accompany them again.

“Now that we have another father in the Night Court I may speak with Feyre about weekly Father’s Nights. I’m sure she would appreciate a night out with Nesta each week, rather than once a year as well,” Rhys added.

Azriel shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging noncommittally. “Perhaps someday.”

Immediately, both Cassian and Rhys’s jovial expressions faded to looks of apology. Azriel angled his head towards a tendril of shadow, confused by the sudden shift in mood.

Pity… Shame…

Rhys did not miss Azriel conferring with the dark plume on his shoulder and lowered his voice, inclining his head slightly. “That was thoughtless of us, Az. We apologize.”

Brows drawing together, Azriel looked from Rhys to Cassian questioningly.

Cassian grimaced leaning in. “We didn’t consider how Gwyn not being Illyrian could complicate things.” He placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Mor and Emerie were thinking of adopting though. You should talk–”

Azriel shook his head, cutting his brother off. “No, no, we’ve looked into that – we looked into that ages ago. Right after we were mated.”

Both Cassian and Rhysand’s brows rose.

It was Azriel’s turn to lower his voice. “Her water-nymph anatomy has left her with more pliable bones, including her hips. According to Madja, a winged babe is no complication, were we to even have one. Strictly speaking, with Gwyn’s heritage we’ve only got a twenty-percent chance of conceiving a child with wings.”

Both his brothers blinked, then slowly, the smiles spread on their lips again. Azriel leveled them both with a flat look, unsure of what was so amusing.

Rhys raised his palms innocently. “We just had no idea you’d done so much… research, Az.”

“And,” Cassian continued, eyeing the shadowsinger, “if you’re so prepared, what is the hold up?”

Flexing his jaw, Azriel decided to satiate his brother’s curiosity before they could report back to their mates and speculate for themselves. “The ‘hold up’ is that Gwyn has not yet breached the topic. It is not my decision alone.”

Rhys and Cassian exchanged another brief glance and he could tell the both of them were on the same page when the High Lord spoke. “If her bringing it up is the only thing you’re waiting on then you should just ask her.”

“Agreed,” Cassian grunted, nodding his head. “I don’t see why Gwyn has to be the one to suggest it.”

He’d thought about this arrangement so many times, the words left him like a well-rehearsed speech. “Gwyn has barely reached her first half-century and she accepted the mating bond with me when she was not even five and thirty. I have no qualms with waiting to have a child until she is ready. In the meantime, I’m more than happy to busy myself with my nephew and niece.”

Cassian’s lips turned down at the corners in approval. He let his hand fall from Azriel’s shoulder to his side. “That’s awfully thoughtful.”

Azriel looked from the new father to Rhys who remained silent. Poignantly silent, picking at an invisible piece of lint on his sleeve. No, not poignantly. Knowingly.

He knows more, Singer… the shadows crooned.

Fixing the High Lord with a look, Azriel felt himself shift into the spymaster, hunting for clues. “Has she said something to you?”

Continuing to pick at the fabric of his sleeve, Rhys said breezily, “She’s said nothing to me. She didn’t have to.” Finally, he met Azriel’s eyes, the edge of his lip twitching. “But she’s been probing Feyre about our efforts to conceive another child. Asking her how she knew when she could propose the idea of a babe to me.”

Cassian cleared his throat, drawing Azriel’s attention to him. “She was also very inquisitive with Nesta about her pregnancy…”

Absurd. His brother’s were behaving as though they had knowledge, when in fact they had hunches. Hunches based on the simple curiosity that was common of his mate.

Rolling his eyes, Azriel removed one hand from his pocket to run through his windswept hair. “You both know that it is not unusual for Gwyn to be curious about things foreign to her. Not to mention, her compulsion to always be helpful to others.” He shot the both of them stern but not unkind looks, “Gwyn has shown me no desire to have a child yet.”

Cassian and Rhys both met his stern expression with that same infuriating amusement, then glanced behind Azriel to where the Valkyries and Feyre sat.

The edge of Rhys’s lip tipped up in a smug smile, though his eyes remained on the scene over the shadowsinger’s shoulder. “She’s your mate.”

Fighting off a sigh, Azriel followed his brother’s gaze, pivoting to look over at the bed.

What he found made his breath catch in his chest. Made his heart squeeze.

Gwyn sat on the edge of the mattress, holding baby Petra to her chest. Adoration and love shone from her face as she cooed down at the babe while Nesta watched with soft eyes. Azriel’s lips parted in surprise as he briefly replaced Cassian’s daughter with a daughter of his own. Imagining that it was his child Gwyn held. His child’s head that Gwyn pressed her lips to. His child who yawned hugely in his mate’s arms. The shadows on his shoulders shifted and settled.

Nesta’s gaze snapped to Azriel and she gave him a small, knowing smile. Azriel cleared his throat of the emotion that had clogged it, sealing his lips.

Gwyn looked up then, beaming at him and rocking Petra against her chest.

He was struck with such a yearning that his cheeks heated, his heart hammered, his knees threatened to buckle. He felt as though he may swoon.

Returning Gwyn’s smile, he turned back to his brothers – both of which were snickering softly.

Azriel narrowed his eyes, lips pursing. “Enough. We’re supposed to be celebrating Cassian and Nesta’s daughter. Not discussing my bedroom life.”

A beat passed, then Cassian laughed, “Or lack thereof…”

Despite himself, Azriel chuckled, the image of Gwyn holding the babe still dancing in the back of his mind.

___________________

That same night, Azriel set about the kitchen, removing all the pots and pans and stores he needed to make dinner. As he prepared his work station, he found his eyes flitting around the home they’d made in this cottage on the outskirts of Velaris.

Over the years, he and Gwyn had cobbled together a place that felt so innately them. No longer was it a bachelor’s getaway, but the home of a family. His home. Their home.

And there was still room yet for a nursery.

Perhaps.

Eventually.

Maybe soon.

Shaking his head of the thoughts, the shadowsinger began to peel the potatoes before him, then dumped them into the pot of boiling water, already salted – just as his mother had taught him.

Perhaps one day he would teach his child how to cook. Perhaps one day he and his daughter would knead dough together or sprinkle powdered sugar atop pastries.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Longing seized his chest, simmering in his gut and creating butterflies that were neither pleasant nor unpleasant.

“Hello.”

Azriel jumped as Gwyn appeared in the room, seating herself on one of the stools on the island across from him.

Her lips twitched. “Did I frighten the Spymaster?”

He chuckled, the fluttering in his stomach ceasing suddenly. “Under my tutelage, you’re already becoming an impressive spy yourself.” A sigh. “And no matter how the years go by, my shadows refuse to make me aware of your movements.”

She hummed, offering the tendrils of darkness on his shoulders a simpering smile. “Well, when do you think dinner will be ready?”

Picking up the dish towel on the counter to dry his hands, Azriel shrugged. “A little over an hour.”

“Good, I’m starving,” she moaned. Azriel snorted as she slumped forward on the counter, elbows propped up so her chin could rest on her fists. “I forgot all about lunch during our visit with Petra.”

The image of her cradling the babe flashed again in his mind. The way her smile had made her eyes crinkle, had made his heart squeeze in answer.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, erm… You were quite enamored with the babe. I didn’t want to interrupt your time with her.”

Color bloomed beneath the freckles of her cheeks, her eyes darting down to the carrots he’d begun cutting. Azriel did her the favor of pretending not to notice.

_____________________

After bathing, Azriel joined Gwyn in their bedroom. She was tucked beneath the covers wearing her lavender nightgown with the tiny straps, reading an enormous book that he recognized as the anthology of mystery stories Rhysand had bought for her last Solstice.

He leaned in the doorframe of the bedroom and for a moment, imagined a child tucked under her arm. One they would read to. He hoped that eventually they would come to love books as much as their mother. A love of reading fostered by Gwyn’s passion for stories.

Sensing his stare, Gwyn’s eyes flitted up from her book. She met his gaze with a smile that sent blood rushing to the shadowsinger’s cheeks. She let the book fall in her lap, exposing the low cut neckline of her nightgown. Azriel’s eyes drifted down her slender throat to her freckled collarbone then lower to the soft swell of cleavage teasing him.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he approached the bed lazily, leaning on one of the posts and grinning down at her rakishly. “Think you have a round in you, Berdara?”

Gwyn’s eyes flashed with hunger, and she reclined against the pillows like a cat. “Strangely enough, after such a wonderful dinner I do find myself still ravenous.”

Read the rest and the Epilogue now on Ao3 or Wattpad

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #gwynriel supremacy #gwyn and azriel #acotar fanfiction #gwynriel fic #gwynriel fanfiction #ao3

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the-insouciant-scientist · 5 months

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@fallenlondonficswap @half-life-citizen For the secret swap. I hope you enjoy this, it was a lot of fun to write! Memoirs of a Surface Traveller Unnamed Tomb Colonist character, Teen(?) rating, 1509 words. Slight warnings for violence and body horror, but both are pretty mild.

I was someone. Please, if nothing else, believe me: I was someone. Down here, my titles are useless, my wealth has been squandered and stolen, and even my finery is naught more than rags. To look at me, you could hardly tell where my clothes end and the bandages begin. Why did I ever come to this forsaken underground place? What good would it ever have brought me aside from a moment’s amusement at the novelty of this damp, dark city that England once loved? If only I had known. If only I had known. There is a sensation, a soft fluttering, in my chest as I try to find my words. I fear it is not as metaphorical as I would hope. I fear I may not have much time. And that is why I must write. I think I intended it as a holiday, which is the ironic part. I had heard such wonders. I thought, at least if they were exaggerated, I could still come back home to my life and my love and be able to brag about what I had seen. Tell everyone I knew tales of how I descended into the depths of the earth like a modern Orpheus, and came back out of this underworld singing.

I don’t think I can remember the last time I sang. The Cumean Canal was beautiful, but as it closed behind us, I remember a stab of anxiety lancing through my heart. I should have listened to it. I should have stayed upon that d__n boat and let it take me home. Hindsight is always so clear. It’s a bitter thing to realise. I was my own Cassandra, and I was doomed to not heed my warnings. London seemed so much smaller than it had been in the stories, from the time before it fell. It was darker than I’d expected. I’d known it was underground, of course, so far from sunlight or any other illumination, but I remember it still taking me aback. I felt like if I closed my eyes then I’d just cease to exist, cast adrift into an endless black void. You can likely guess that I tried to stick to the best lit streets, just in case.

I had so many plans. So many things to experience down here. I wanted to taste mushroom wine and sample prisoner’s honey, visit the carnival and the theatre, and so much more. I wanted to try things that no one else I knew ever had, and wear that like a badge of honour. Anyone could visit far off and exotic places on the surface, but visiting London was almost unheard of since its disappearance. I craved that novelty like nothing else. I suppose, in a horrific twist of fate, I did experience a novelty here beyond anything my friends could ever fathom. I died, and then I came back to tell the tale. I think I had just passed from Covent Garden Veilgarden into Spitalfields M Spite when I felt that unseen blade pierce my heart, tearing through my upper body, and then everything went black. My ribs ache just thinking about it. I don’t want to think about the possibility of that being something else, causing that ache. Maybe I should write faster, but I can’t risk this running into illegibility. I need to make sure my story is known.

I really thought that was it, that I was done for. That’s how it’s supposed to go, isn’t it? You die, and then what happens next is generally up for debate, but I have never once heard “you come back to your own body” as an option being argued. I might have fainted when I saw the Boatman, or screamed. Death was a bit of a blur for me in all honesty. I think I remember playing chess, but surely that’s incorrect. What I do remember was waking up in my own skin, back aching and a sense of loss taut in my chest. I had been moved out of the street by some good samaritan or another, but the news they broke to me made me wish I had never come back to life. Did you know that if you die in this cavern, sunlight becomes as deadly as cyanide to you? I’m sure you know that, my dear reader, but it was news to me at the time. I didn’t pretend to understand why or how, I just knew what it meant: I could never go home again. What had been intended to be a few days’ vacation had become a life sentence. I had fashioned myself as Orpheus, in this tale. I hadn’t known I was to be doomed as Eurydice. I still don’t know who killed me. I can only guess at the motive. I suppose I seemed an easy mark, with my fine clothes and sun kissed complexion. I suppose when you’ve lived in a damp cave that you can’t even properly die in for your whole life, stabbing someone so you can rob them in peace hardly seems like the worst thing you can do. Sometimes, on melancholy days, I wonder if they ever realised how much more they took from me that day than just money. It’s been many years since then. Some days I think I’ve forgiven them. Other days I think if I ever saw them, and knew for certain it was them, I would kill them with my bare hands. Most days I just hope they thought it was worth it, because then at least one of us could be pleased with that day. Anger takes energy I simply don’t have anymore. It’s been too long, and I am so tired.

Dust flakes from my hand and wrist as I write, try as I might to keep myself whole. Whatever it is that has made a home inside of me seems restless. I am afraid. I must keep my pen to paper if I am to have any hope. But yes, that was the first thing they told me: that I could never return to the surface. The second thing that they told me was of a place to the north, although they didn’t say it with the same strange weight I sometimes hear. A place for other people who had died, and didn’t find London as welcoming anymore. They said it as if it was just another holiday, but I could see the distaste behind their expressions. They worded it like it was my choice, but I know a platitude when I hear one. I had come back to life, yes, but I was still too dead for the truly living to tolerate. Either I would come to this place with my dignity still intact, or I would be treated less than human until I broke down and came here anyway.

My pride is quite dear to me, and was the only thing I truly had left as far as I could see. I took a steamer across the s zee to the port of Venderbight, and I’ve lived here ever since. Even now, after all these decades, I still struggle to think of it as home. I miss the sun. I miss real wine, and the influence I held, and I miss the people I once knew. Above all else, I miss when death was simple. Man was not made to come back from such a thing, and I fear this disrespect for the laws of existence may have brought about some new horror. The fluttering in my chest has progressed into a frantic scraping, and I shudder to feel it. I do not know what is happening. I fear that, in a horrible instance of dramatic irony, I will not survive whatever it is. Please, you must understand. I was important, once. I was wealthy, and powerful, and I donated to the poor and helped the sick and I was a good person, I was good, what have I done to deserve this? Oh G-d. Oh dear G-d. Please, I don’t want to die. I’ve changed my mind, I’m happy to have come back, really! It was a gift and I should have been more grateful because

Oh G-d I’m not ready. Please. I can feel my chest cracking apart like the spine of a book and it hurts and please, please remember me, please hear me, I was a person I was alive I was someone I was someone I was so _______ (You flip the paper over, searching for a date, or a name, or anything identifiable, and come up empty. There is no way of telling who wrote this memoir, or any way of finding it out. There is nothing at all to denote its author aside from a scattering of dust, flecked with shed scales from a moth’s wings.) (The story will be remembered, as all stories are, but no one will ever know whose story it was.) (Perhaps it will be enough, or perhaps not.)

#fallen london #fallen london fic swap #fic #the scientist scribbles #a copy of your bazaarine tale #the entire time i was writing this i was just repeatedly going 'ouch. yeowch. oh i just thought of something that can make this hurt worse'

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nowandevermore · 2 years

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Been putting off doing this for a while, mainly because the one year anniversary of the series is coming up; buuuuut, with God in the Midst on the horizon and In the In-Between finishing up soon, I figured now is as good a time as any to make a master post for my Pokémon Ranger series.

Under the cut for spoiler snippets.

Secrets of the Fiore Temple

Rated: T

Pairing: Ash x Goh

Warnings: depictions of violence, nightmares

Aged-up characters: Ash (23), Goh (21)

Word count: 17.1K

Chapters: 8/8

—

When Professor Amaranth recommends Ash and Goh to help the Pokémon Rangers of Fiore, the men are eager to jump on the opportunity. After all, the chance to work with Rangers is always slim.

Besides, together, Ash and Goh will be fine. All they are doing is helping a Top Ranger move some overpopulated Pokémon — it is a simple task, a simple mission.

Until it isn't.

A darkness rides in on the clouds of summer storms, looming over the Ranger Region of Fiore. Anger and agony fall over the Sekra Mountain Range, an old Pokémon lingers — a threat and a promise to the people of the region…

"Thought to be extinct?"

In order to complete their mission, Ash and Goh will have to face the sins of the fathers, right the wrongs of the past, and make a new path toward a brighter future.

Snippet:

Ash takes a step forward, ready to help Goh when a shudder ripples through him - a feeling he can recognize - starting in his chest and extending out to his fingers and toes. Aura. The trainer stops, glancing around. There's no one else around.

A low growl to his left warns Ash that he's not the only one who felt the aura. It felt dangerous - but only for the moment, fading into the background almost as immediately as he felt it.

Goh calls his name again, a hint of concern in his tone, and the trainer shakes it off for now. He'll mention it once they catch these Pokémon.

There are five Cyndaquil in total - Hailey thanks them for the catches.

Ash doesn't mention the aura spike.

—

Answers Buried in Time

Rating: M

Pairing: Ash x Goh, background relationships

Warnings: nightmares & visions, depictions of violence, temporary character death(s)

Aged-up characters: Ash (25), Goh (23), Gary (26), Hailey (28)

Word count: 59.2K

Chapters: 22/22

—

Two and a half years after the events in the Sekra Range, everything is fine. Everything is calm. Fiore is behind them.

Or it should be.

They may have left Fiore, but in more ways than one, the region hasn't left them. It shaped Ash and Goh in many ways, but in no ways were they left unscathed.

In no ways did they come back the same.

"Hello, Goh."

The nightmares come back in full force — angry, haunting, it speaks of a past that once was. It warns of a future to come.

While Ash attempts to comfort the younger man, Goh begins to understand that nothing just happens. Everything has a reason, a purpose.

Goh thinks he might have found his.

Where will the nightmare lead? Will it take him to a brighter future, or are they solely destined for a dark fate?

Only time can tell — the answers buried within its depths, within the deepest recesses of the past.

Within the Hall of Memories.

Snippet:

Ash hesitates and looks at Goh. He has seen his boyfriend's reactions to the nightmares being brought up in the past, but Ash also understands that it's necessary to bring them up now. Goh hesitates for only a second before nodding.

The trainer turns back to face Samona and starts. "Goh began having nightmares almost a month ago. They started one night out of nowhere — he hadn't had any for two years…"

Goh chews his bottom lip before he adds on. "I had one six months ago, too. It was a single occurrence, and I didn't think they would come back."

"Can you tell me anything about them?" Samona asks.

Goh looks up to meet her gaze and says. "There's almost always a Mew involved. Somehow, some way, it's there. Most of the time, I run through a forest… only to reach a dead end. I remember the gush of geysers, the smell of hot springs, and…" he inhales shakily as he recalls the Pokémon that followed him.

That attacked him.

"There's a Pokémon that follows me — it attacked me… It—it was instructed by someone to attack. I don't know what Pokémon it was; I haven't ever seen one before."

Samona follows up with a final question. "What did it look like?"

"It was tall and skinny, with hands that burnt the trees around it. It had a large, round head that it… threw for an attack."

The Ranger tenses, and it goes unnoticed by no one.

—

note: please read author's notes on chapters. Warnings included in each, as needed. Take care of yourselves.

Special thanks to @eternalstargazer for writing a few, major battle scenes for this fic. It would not have been what it was without your help, thanks friend.

—

In the In-Between

Rating: T

Pairing: Ash x Goh

Warnings: brief mentions of character death

Aged-up characters: Ash (25), Goh (23)

Word count: 9.3K

Chapters: 3/3

—

In the months following the events of Rota, all is going well. Samona lives up to her promise, and she gives Ash the opportunity to train in the Lucario Kingdom in Sinnoh. When he returns home, the trainer expects everything to be normal.

Goh waits at home in the city of Vermilion — for all intents and purposes, everything is.

Then the news plays...

The Bell Tower burns, and the Bell Tower is saved. And Ash is reminded that he's no longer the only one who feels the disturbance in the air.

A candle flickers in an altar, and it guides Goh towards a twister in time — something is coming.

When Ash is shown a vision of his own, it provides a look into a past the trainer didn't know existed... one he missed out on. He's forced to face demons he forgot he buried, forced to acknowledge the truth of the matter.

There's too much to be coincidence, and the men are reminded that everything has a reason — and coincidences don't exist.

Not in the world of the gods.

"Listen for their calls."

Incoming call — Gary Oak. Incoming call — Gary Oak.

This is theirs.

Snippet:

Ash stands and turns toward the fox. "You would have won."

Zoroark huffs before speaking into the clearing. "I didn't need to win."

It catches the trainer off guard. He knits his brows. "What do you mean? We had a deal."

The fox nods. "And you trust Goh. I didn't need to win to know that."

Ash swallows. He doesn't understand… He hadn't trusted Goh's words that Zoroark had saved him. Why isn't it asking for more? What does it want?

Zoroark's voice fills the clearing again. It watches Ash, red pupils seeming to stare directly into his soul. "What do you know about your pendant?"

That isn't what Ash had expected. "What?"

The fox narrows its eyes, before it takes a step forward. The trainer swallows and shakes his head. Ash tries again, but Zoroark cuts him off.

"It has a name."

"How do you know that?" The man asks, and he unconsciously takes a step back. Anxiety rises in his chest, even as Ash tries to tamp it down.

It isn't working.

Zoroark huffs across from him, and Ash thinks he hears a slight amusement to it. "It told me. It can tell you too." The fox reaches a hand out to the man and stares at him.

Ash gulps. "Why? Why would you share any of this with me?"

"Because it is yours."

Time stops.

#pokemon rangers #ao3 journeys #ao3 pokemon #satogou #ash x goh #journeyshipping #firstfriendshipping #gouacheshipping #pokemon fanfiction #writeblr community #writrblr #i will eventually add in the in between and god in the midst here #but i at least want to have in the in between done first #GiM is going to be much much longer so that will get added probably not long after posting the first few chapters #if not after the first chapter

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fullmtal · 2 years

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‘ analysis.

edward basically had to be the head of the house around five- four in short? not old enough to be that. hohenheim left him with a glare and this is literally edward, old enough to know something is wrong, old enough to notice and old enough to have his heart smashed into pieces, no matter the reasoning hohenheim had. so that love turned into hatred and dislike and fear and grief and it turned into a very locked and guarded horror of any adult actually trying to show sympathy or compassion.

because he’s been neglected and then weighed with essentially raising al with his mother and also protecting said sickly mother who literally had tears in her eyes at the mere mention no matter how hard she smiled. ed has been saddled with burden and responsibility since he was a baby and he literally just took it?

and even at 15-16 this is his reaction to even thinking of his father.

because hohenheim hurt al, hurt his mom, who died young and it’s so easy to pin all the blame on him because he left them and trisha was already dying, something he found out too late, but that he wasn’t there at all and that at first he did ask about his dad coming home, but that lasted what? a few days after seeing carefully, ever insanely perceptive, his mother’s shifted demeanor and thinly veiled tears and alphonse’s frowning and confused face. the moment he put on a glare for edward and alphonse, the moment he left that gaping hole of neglect and abandonment even unintentional that was it. he wasn’t a father anymore.

and while edward has compassion because edward cannot turn off his kindness, his insane capacity for love? the promised day really didn’t do hohenheim and edward’s relationship any favors because it left ed no closure, only tears, only anger, rage at his offer of using his life as a toll and confusion.

so adults....caring about him scares the living hell out of him. fills him with anger because he has to be skeptical of them because if al is fond of them, he could get burned again. he HAS to be the one to look after the elric brothers as a whole as both the protector / eldest and because he cannot BEAR to see alphonse waiting at an empty door.

‘ for as long as i can remember....i never once remembered ‘that man’ acting like a father. ‘ note he doesn’t say anything but ‘that man’. he’s so removed from him.

hohenheim is a fascinating character, and has so much depth and is so masterfully written? but that doesn’t change his decisions absolutely broke edward and alphonse in different ways, and ed as the oldest and ‘little man of the house’ had to pick up the pieces. he is not a good father no matter how much he loved his family. frankly i don’t think he knew how. but al mentions he barely remembers hohenheim, but ed remembers /enough/ that he has nightmares of him. and he remembers enough of al’s sweet, innocent face asking for their father. and that breaks him in half.

how many times do you think ed early stages had to hide his rage and distract al from that?

and he can’t bear for al to be in more pain than he already is. he’s the big brother. it’s his job and his choice and he will always look out for alphonse until he dies.

he was a child --- he shouldn’t have had to. and now hohenheim dies before they ever have any kind of closure save a sorry too late, that only invokes sobbing and pain from edward himself.

he’s just another ghost in edward’s heart, and he believes fully he should try to do this for alphonse because primarily he IS on the lookout for adults trying to win favors with them in the disguise of love or kindness because it could just be another repeat of trusting an adult figure and loving them slowly, and i genuinely think ed thinks and i have a whole other thing on that, it’s ‘easier’ to bear it himself, but if AL gets hurt again....it’s almost unbearable. remember in edward’s eyes he feels he is the one that is completely responsible for alphonse’s condition and the sin as a whole as both elder brother and ringleader. he isn’t trying to rob alphonse of his agency on that, but he genuinely has always, always out of adoration and love once he got to know his baby brother, felt responsible for him out of his own choice while having full faith on alphonse making his own decisions as an individual fully capable.

ed tries so hard to spare alphonse from unnecessary pain. he just....forgot that he had a right to that too. or more aptly, he doesn’t allow himself it at all.

#/ long post #𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀 * ── the anatomy of a heart of steel.#ask to tag.#can we blame ed really for being so cagey with adults #never relying on them?#the kid was abandoned with his baby brother #series hits home that ed is constantly nonstop protecting emotionally or physically even at 4'11 his little brother without coddling bc #that is job as a GOOD elder brother.#the best big brother in fiction imho.#*his #he is constantly on guard and everything is for al's sake and the vast VAST people he loves even when he tried hard not to.#ed is HEARTBREAKINGLY KIND and we don't talk enough about it.#to him it was like hohenheim threw his love in the trash.#and love IS stored in the edward not just al both suffered EQUALLY this neglect #ed prioritizes alphonse above himself by elder brother nature and because al is literally canonly connected to him by the literal soul ?#that he FORGETS like with everyone else.#to prioritize himself.#and it makes al rightfully mad and upset.#as he should.#but considering how it STARTED?#a lot of this neglect played into it .#but above all he loves and sacrifices of his own volition.#he won't let his trauma taint that.#he isn't just hurting for himself on this neglect.#he's hurting for /alphonse/.#he's hurting for /trisha/.#it's kind of horrifying how little ed processes that he's also hurting for himself.#ugh ed....please think of yourself.#but i think if he sat down with all this immeasurable pain and burden he wouldn't be able to do the finish line of the series.#that's genuinely how he feels.

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neonlight2 · 2 years

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The Moon’s Smile: Chapter 1

T/W: “call me by your name” crossover; triggering for those who have read the book and watched the movie.

Intro below 👇

I felt warm, safe, and anything else you could think of in the area of comfort.

My skin could feel something soft covering my feet, tickling my toes. And while the top of my body felt waves of heat, licks of light teasing my fingertips. The base of my thighs felt cold.

Not an unsettling cold, actually, it was rather comforting. It's the type of cold that makes you feel settled. Enough to keep sweating at bay.

The texture of it felt bumpy. Not scaly bumpy— that would have been unsettling. No it was more..wrinkled. But also smooth in some spots.

Oh and the sounds. So much laughing.

In the moment it almost felt bittersweet because I felt happy. Beyond happy actually. I could feel the laughter bubbling in my own throat. Only some form of sheer will holding me back.

The bitter part of it all was I didn't know what they were laughing at. Or even who they were.

Like I was left out of a joke.

I was only able to hear bits and pieces. I could here the tone of their voices. From that I could tell that they were all boys, or boys were the only ones talking.

The scatter of feet also gave it away that they're quite rowdy, or at least two of them are. Now the action itself made me believe that they were young, as in adolescence, but after hearing the depth in their voices and footsteps I knew that they had to be older.

I couldn't help but hope that this is a house in the middle of nowhere, or else I'm afraid that their neighbors aren't getting any sleep.

But slowly all of those joyful sounds drown out and the mood shifts with the haunt of footsteps. As it always seems to. My eyes drop down to my lap. Fingers intertwined together, I can see an orange hue glimmering in my black ring. However, it's what's underneath that catches my attention.

Breaking the mold, my hands unfold, and they graze along the outline of a old book. You could see the age by it's broken and fluffy ends, the veins running down the spine, and the lingering of dust on the cover.

One quick swipe, using the back of my right hand, the flakes flutter into the air— almost ominously. Then I can look at the cover clearly, symbols engraved in silver.

I could feel the tension in between my eyebrows as they cinched closer together. My eyes squinted in confusion as I open the book, curiosity building as of why it was in front of me. Assumptions of what it contains bubbles at the surface of my mind.

The pages were filled with scribbled, inked words. Splotches of black on the ends every now and then. Along with brown and yellow staining, another trait of its age.

Each word was connected in thin cursive, so it was almost hard to read.

That is if you haven't read his handwriting before.

Every line was filled with facts. All about the same thing.

Suddenly the book's pages flew to the side like some gust of wind had come out of nowhere, or more realistically— a gust of magic. If it was any faster it would have covered my hands in paper-cuts.

When it comes to a jolting holt, both sides of the book are held down smooth even though one side obviously outweighed the other. Across the stretch was a picture clear as day, spread evenly with lines and circles showing off the symmetry.

A weight laid on my chest as I stared at the page, millions of thoughts rushing through within the one I'm in now.

To bad I'm not allowed the luxury of time.

A single blink sends me to the brink. My head thrown back as hundreds of images swarm my eyes.

Blue.

Yellow.

Red.

Green.

Black cloaks.

Flowers frost quickly.

Air filled with hot smoke.

A bright, yellowed moon.

Such a bright moon.

All followed by the shock of green and slivered eyes that open to look dead at me, until mine open.

"Luna!"

The shake of my shoulders makes me jump, gripping a handful of cotton sheets as my stomach caves and chest heaves. Sweat pours down my neck, causing silk to stick to my skin.

A cold touch to my shoulder blade makes me flinch before turning to look at their face.

"Hey, hey," his green eyes peer into mine as his voice drops to sooth me, "You're here. Right here."

He takes one of my hands, retracting it from the sheets, and places it flat against the bed. As we rub our hands against the soft surface I can feel his pulse through his hand. Warmth of his blood flowing against my hands makes my heart slow and my breathing steady, slowly harmonizing with his.

Fluttering shut, I squeeze my eyes tightly together. The pain of something banging against my skull passes and my pupils dilate in relaxation.

I gulp down my duress before looking back at him. After taking in his full state, messy hair with strands stuck to his damp skin, I felt my shoulders drop. Leaning forward I rest my forehead against his collar bone and kiss it lightly before whispering.

"Did I wake you?"

He leans his head forward, resting it lightly on mine. Then his arm wraps around me, chilled fingers gently brushing the few curls from my face.

"No, my mom did, said that it's time for breakfast and that I should go get you. Oh—,"

His chest shifts as he reaches for something. Though his arm stays in place, keeping my body on his as well as he can. "This came in for you."

I hear the crackle of paper, old paper, and I wince at the noise. Scrunching up my face I slowly rotate my head, not bothering to take it off his chest, to see an envelope in his hands. One that no one could forget.

Groaning I bury my face into his chest again.

It's too early for this shit.

"And— I'm guessing it's from someone you're not to fond of." I hear and feel his heartily laugh as he continues to look at it.

I'm glad one of us is happy.

"Mother did say it came from an owl, which had her confused, but then once she saw it was for you she thought it was normal." His voice began to fade towards the end, like he was in deep thought. That's when I glanced up at him to see his reading the back.

I almost let out a snort after seeing his perplexed expression. His eyes had grown twice the size in a split second, no doubt after registering the sender's address. And in one swift glance those beady eyes gaped at me.

"Hogwarts? As in..your Hogwarts."

That did make me laugh.

After being soberly amused I managed enough energy to sit up, merely to grab the letter and lay back down on my stomach. Resting my head over his thigh I held the letter with straight arms. To be quite honest I wanted to throw it in the fire, watch it burn, and imagine what his response would be. But then I remember.

I know exactly what that petty bitch would do.

So instead I just prolonged it. Keeping it as far away as I could, but close enough to still be able to read.

"Technically it's not mine. I just help a lot in keeping it together." Sighing and groaning in broken bits, I roll my eyes before turning the letter around to open it. As I do I mutter under my breath, "I mean you would think that would get me a fucking percentage, but no."

"So the letter is from...what was his name?" I hear a slap of skin and my eyes flicker to him for a second to see his hand smacked to his forehead. "Damn all I can remember is you calling him 'purple pumps'."

A small snort breaks through as I unfold the aged, spotted paper. "That's so brilliant, you don't even know."

"Come on," he chuckled with me, smacking my arm lightly in retaliation to my teasing. "What's his name?"

Shaking my head my eyes roam the first few sentences written in poor, inked penmanship. Brows furrowing as I scan the next line, and the next, and the next.

"Luna?"

Lips twisting, accentuating my scowl, my teeth grit. Nostrils flailing I sit up quickly, using my arm to help me up while the other crumples the letter into a ball. I throw it mercilessly in the fireplace and whisper an aggressive, "Incendio."

"Luna, are you–?"

"Albus fucking Dumbledore." I inhale deeply, eyes closed and fists clenched, as I count back from ten. For a moment everything is quiet, and I'm thankful that he can take a hint.

Once I'm in a stable mental and emotional state I turn back around and snap my fingers. That's when everything begins to move. My two larger trunks open, inviting all of my floating belongings to settle in. As they do I grab a sleeveless, green jumper and black pants as they float by, along with black combat boots that were shimmying toward the abnormally large suitcases.

"I don't suppose you'll be wanting breakfast will you?"

Stopping mid change, I look up at him and contemplate for a few seconds before nodding. "Yes, please. I'll have to be saying goodbye today."

The words feel weird and had a bitter aftertaste in my mouth, but it was the truth.

I swear to god this better be urgent.

I slip the pullover on, not even bothering to put on a bra because I'm still in this part of Europe. And I will drag this along for as long as I possibly can.

"Will you be leaving for a long time?"

Freezing in place, hovering to pull the back of my shoes so I can slide my foot into it, air gets suspended in my lungs.

Fuck.

Slipping my foot all the way through I do the other one quickly, both already tied because I hadn't bothered to untie them the night before. People that do that scare me.

"I don't know for certain... but I assume so." Weaving my fingers through my wavy hair, I let out a huff. "I don't know why I just said that. Now it's actually going to happen."

He lets out a small laugh at my mumbled remark. "Yeah... after all this time I can't believe I haven't been calling you jinx."

A grin stretch's across my face as I walk over to him, readjusting my clothes as I go. "Nah," I poke his stomach playfully, watching him laugh and squirm, before giving him a hug. One arm wrapped under and arm while the other above his shoulder. "I prefer Luna." I whisper in his ear wistfully.

Our grip on each other grew tighter, bundling any clothing we could hold onto. We both knew what would have to happen, and god did I hate it.

"Could you do my hair one last time?" I ask in a pathetic tone filled with too many emotions.

His laugh makes mine arise, and he says, "Yeah, anything you want Luna."

______________________

"You're leaving?!"

Yep. That's what I expected.

She rushes around the table, ignoring the maids bringing out the plates of breakfast as she heads toward me. "What do you mean you're leaving?!" Glancing from me, to her son, and then to her husband. "Samuel! Non limitarti a sederti lì! La nostra amata luna sta cercando di andarsene e tu stai lì seduto a mangiare il tuo uovo!"

**Don't just sit there! Our beloved moon is trying to leave, and you just sit there eating your egg!**

Samuel looks up from devouring his perfectly cooked boiled egg, the maid is terrific and deserve some credit, and gulps down a mouth full before responding to his most urgent wife.

"Well dear she did warn us that she might have to leave randomly... most likely under abrupt circumstances." He says, voice trailing to a quiet whisper due to his partner's expression. Head falling like a scolded dog he pokes at his egg once again before mumbling, "Well that's what you asked."

"Shut up Elio." I whisper, trying to hold a laugh myself, kicking him softly as he laughs openly. He slowly turns around to hide the fact, covering his mouth with his wrist and acting as if he had something caught in his throat.

All of a sudden my body flings forward from her arms pulling me into a back crushing hug. No, I mean literally. I heard my whole spine pop.

"You can't leave Luna. How will I survive alone with these boys?" As I hear her sniffle into my shoulder, I pat her back consolingly, but I also use another hand to wave fervently at Elio. This was a new sweater, and as much as I love her I'm not willing to risk a sixty dollar jumper.

Quickly Elio rushes to my aid, grabbing his mother by the shoulders gently to remove her from me. It almost felt like removing Velcro. She reprimanded him for the action, but her focus left him the moment someone else walked out the house.

"Woah— why is she crying? Please, tell me I'm not intruding on some personal thing."

Samuel shakes his head at him and says. "No. My lovely wife is just upset that our Luna is leaving us."

His light blue eyes fly to me, and for a moment I swear I caught that cheeky bastard's lips twitch up.

I knew it.

Tilting his head back a notch I watch as he tries to keep a straight face. Leaning against one of the chairs he says, "That's a shame. We barely even got to talk Luna."

Smirking I look at the ground, shaking my head with my tongue between my molars. "Yes, I suppose it just wasn't meant to be Oliver."

I'm filled with satisfaction once I see his jaw clench at the sides, his eyes flickering between Elio and I. Glancing to the side myself I see Elio had taken to my left and my smile only grows. In any other scenario I would have played with this more, but I didn't have the time.

I realized that after I heard their father clock go off.

Inhaling deeply I rub the back of my forearms and give them one last wistful smile. "Again, I'm sorry I have to be leaving so early and suddenly. I wish I could've eaten with you, but I have to be going. I have a long way to go."

"She's right dear." Samuel stands up, wiping his lips and mustache of any evidence of breakfast before he makes his way towards us. "If she want to get to London before it's too late she'll have to leave now."

I give him a thankful expression before giving him a hug as well. It's a short but comforting one. However it probably would have been better if his wife hadn't stole me from him. Hell it almost took four people to coax her off of me this time. I'm just lucky she wasn't crying anymore.

I didn't hug Oliver. And not just because he visibly despises me. In fact he was the one to offer it first. I just wanted to embarrass him one last time. So I left him hanging and hugged the maid instead. She deserves it though.

When I was finally able to leave the house Elio escorted me to the bus stop, by bike of course, and we were able to take the path one last time. One that I practically have memorized. From the old, nudish, bricked houses. To the colorful water fountains, random bushes and statues that would pop out of any spacious corner you could find.

I felt like crying when we made it to the stop. What hurt the most was when I let go of the bike, knowing that I very well might not see it again.

"I'll keep it."

My eyebrows pinch at the middle as I look up from Eliot's hands on both bikes to his eyes. "What?"

"I promise I'll keep it as long as I can."

Damn. That hurt even more.

Bottom lip slightly quivering I try and give him a small smile. "Yeah," closing my eyes tightly I let my head fall back to face the sky. "I know you will."

A sharp clank nearly makes me jump out of my skin until I feel arms wrapped securely around my waste. The air I was holding in comes out harshly as I let myself hold onto him as well. One hand gripping the upper back of his shirt while the other entangles in his effortlessly, luscious curls.

His head is rested on my chest. There's no doubt he was able to hear my heart's dangerously fast pace. For a moment I feel is arms readjust, lessening his grip as to not bruise my sides.

Jesus Christ, why does this always happen to me?

My eyes wander to the floor, and I see both bikes toppled on each other like dominoes. I can't help but let out as light laugh.

"Well you're not doing a great job keeping it in shape."

His body vibrates against me with his own laughter, and his hair tickles my neck as he shakes his head. It was faint, but I caught his faint mumble of an apology.

"I guess you'll just have to repaint it for me. Maybe you can paint a m–."

I'm cut off short by the honk of the bus, which was turning around the curve to pick me up. Elio's head lifts slightly and I hear him sniffle as well as let out a pitiful whine. Looking down, I lift his face to normal height. His beautiful eyes were now glossed over, and as aspected his nose was covered in a faint blush just like his cheeks.

None of this made him any less beautiful of course. Honestly I think it might have even enhanced it.

"You know what time it is." I say with a voice filled with dread. He shakes his head at me, trying to break away from my grasp, but I hold his face firm. "Hey, hey," I coo calmly at him, resting my forehead on his as we stare at each other. "We're right here. Right here, and we'll be alright."

His lips tremble as he stares at me, but he nods anyways. We both knew this was necessary.

Inhaling deeply from my nose I close my eyes, thinking of everything I possibly could. Every memory. Every thought. Every movement.

Every moment.

Opening my eyes I feel a rush of heat fly throughout my body and my finger tips tingle in anticipation as they settle themselves on his temples.

"I promise you'll remember everything else, but you can't know about it. But you'll remember me. Us. And you'll know exactly what to do about Oliver for once." I explain, with a small ounce of humor in order to lighten the mood.

Even though he didn't laugh I could see a ghost of a grin. It was enough for me.

Staring deeply into his eyes, piercing his mind and web of memories I say one last thing to him before I disappeared for what I knew would be a long time.

“Obliviate."

#call me by your name #timothee chamalet #marauders #marauders x reader #regulus deserved better #sirius black #james & peter & remus & sirius #harry potter #hogwarts #fuck dumbledore #dumbledore slander #remus lupin #marauders era

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emisirrelevant · 2 years

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Thoughts on Zombies 2:

I like that overall it kept some things from the first movie- like the animation in the beginning and telling more lore again- with the werewolves like they did with the zombies. Also the minor breaking the fourth wall moments Zed and Addison do.

The football coach running a fro-yo business in his off season. I love that for him.

Zed's impeccable timing (this is sarcastic) of trying to do a prom-posal and ending up making the entire cheer squad bus crash.

Addison telling everyone with her quality leadership skills (again, sarcasm) to remain calm, but then jumps out of the bus herself to go find Zed.

Interesting to see that silver was a weakness to the werewolves in this movie- I always like to see what people's takes on supernatural creature myths are when they do these things.

Bree and Bonzo in a relationship was very cute for me. I knew I was right to stan them in the first movie.

Also Zoey and Wynter's interaction. That was probably one of my favorite parts of the movie.

Wynter: Trying to scare the shit out of Zoey

Zoey: Just wants to make a new friend and finds the weak spot in 2 seconds

If you hadn't already guessed, I added Wynter and Willa to my stan list in this movie. (every time Wynter's necklace would malfunction I was like NOO)

And Eliza too- I wasn't too sure of her in the first movie, but Eliza is iconic. She makes some valid points. Our resident woman in STEM.

Bree being confused when Addison said she wanted to be with the werewolves and then Addison saying "I needed help with the chemistry homework, did you not see the beaker emoji?" "Oh- I do now" 😂😂😂 I LOVE BREE SM like the first thing she saw was HELP she didn't even check to see the emoji she went straight to MY BESTIE IS IN DANGER mode

Werewolf Addison eating breakfast with her parents and Addison's dad asking her if she joined a rock band😂

When the zombies and the werewolves show up to Prawn and Lacey is like "they do look good" for once I agree with her 😂

The reprise of Someday in this movie too- I might be a little emo about that actually

Lifting up the moonstone and carrying it with THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP™!

Bonzo doing the wolf howl and Wyatt saying "You said that perfectly"

The choreography and songs still being pretty decent for me.

One For All having that line "no wristband required" actually being low-key genius bc if you think about it the zombies were able to take off their Z-bands and embraced who they really were.

Me being low-key sad actually for our main zombie himbo Zed in this because he felt like he might lose Addison and all he wanted was to take her to Prawn. Obviously he could have found another way than stealing the necklace from her, but also he was more resistant to the werewolves while Addison being the welcoming accepting character that she was invited them to the cheer squad. At times I think they both had their moments. If it weren't a Disney movie, I think that they could have handled their relationship in other ways that were more in depth, like a good heart to heart, but obviously we get our classic good ending.

Finally, I was wondering who the Great Alpha would be since it wasn't Addison but then it made me smile to myself when I realized they actually didn't need one in the end because they all came together, and I think it would be so awesome to give Willa more spotlight in a prominent role. Because she deserves it. Also because it would have been awkward if someone else took over as the alpha when Willa was already looking jealous/upset whenever Wyatt would say something like Addison's the one!

Edit: I almost forgot this but I was thinking, if Zed and Eliza were able to take off their Z-bands and didn't go after living people as their zombie selves, would the wolves ever be able to take off their necklaces? I had to take a moment when Zed asked if their necklaces kept them from "wolfing out" and Willa was like no, we wouldn't be human either, we'd die- like wait what- also Disney said the word DIE and didn't censor it or try to use a different word? This is very interesting to me. Maybe the werewolves will still have their necklaces though because Willa also said they show their true selves?? Idk. Personal brainrot.

I will be watching the third movie/Zombies 3 and I will share my thoughts on it as well when I finish it.

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ophelia-jones · 11 months

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A mile in your shoes

Chapter 2

After the initial shock had started to wear off, and he had nothing but time on his hands, Dean's curiosity began to get the better of him. He couldn't do any research on Sofie's computer because he didn't know her passwords. It had been a good thing she had her phone security set to scan her face or he would not have been able to call his phone. He paced around the room, doing what research he could do on her phone and trying not to let his mind wander.

When they called back and asked him to check what town he was in, Dean told them according to her phone, he was in Paradise - which turned out to be another town on Lake Superior, about 75 or 80 miles further away. So, they were back on the road, adding an hour to their travel time. Sofie had insisted she could cover the distance in 35 minutes and Dean once again had asked Sam to take the wheel.

He hated to think about what could happen to his baby. He needed something to distract himself. So, he decided to get dressed and freshen up. His staying holed up in a motel room was a waste. He needed to go out and canvas the town of Paradise and ask some questions. There very well could be a clue out there to explain what had happened the night before.

So, after using the toilet finally, he undressed to her cami and underwear -intending to find something to wear he could just put on over them- but curiosity finally won out, and Dean started looking.

Sofie was not a traditional sort of woman, with her long straight hair dyed pitch black at the moment. The last time he'd seen her, it had been forest green. They were the tattoos. He looked down at her arms, both covered with full-sleeve tattoos. There were a lot of green vines and pink flowers, which he supposed was pretty enough. For the first time, though, he saw other details. Sigils and words which he recognized as protection spells and wardings. For someone whose life mission was to kill witches, this seemed hypocritical, even if it was a wise measure to take.

Deeper even than the hidden wardings and spells, there were scars. As he ran a hand along the skin of one arm and then the other, he could feel raised scar tissue in several places.

He had nearly forgotten how many scars he had once borne before Cass came along and healed him. He sighed as he looked at the tattoos which covered her outer thighs, hips, and part of her butt. He touched those and found scars as well. He could see white scars on her torso here and there, and more on her shins and inner thighs. Most of them he recognized as the types of injuries he might see on any hunter - he could even guess at the causes of them and feel confident he had it right. It was the scars on her inner thighs which troubled him. They were all perfectly straight, about the same in length and depth. He ran his fingers over them and was relieved to find that they were smooth and painless. These were old scars.

Looking closely at her face in the mirror, Dean was surprised that she was very pretty. She had big, bright green eyes and a lovely smile. She looked younger without makeup, too. It was usually smokey black eyes and dark lipstick to create a dramatic statement. A statement Dean had always thought of as 'fuck off'. Her clothes were almost uniform, usually full of holes and almost always black. She wore a lot of punk rock t-shirts and racerback tank tops with flannel shirts, and her jewelry was usually black leather and silver. The silver was useful, at least.

He pulled on a pair of ripped-up black jeans, socks, and Doc Martin boots which were probably as old as she was. Then he began rifling through her bag for a bra. His hands felt a soft material and tugged on it to find it was a soft purple bag with a simple drawstring at the top. The weight of it suggested something solid, not clothing, was inside. He opened it anyway.

Other than the pistol loaded with witch-killing bullets, Dean had not found the usual hunting paraphernalia. Her phone and laptop had common hunting searches in their history, but there were no old books, no knives, and no holy water.

When he glanced inside, however, he realized pretty quickly that searching through Sofie's personal belongings was a risky thing. He reached in and grasped the item, jumping back in surprise and horror at the feeling of it. It was a soft plastic that moved and felt almost like human skin. Human skin on a very specific part of the body.

Being a hunter, his mind first suspected it was, in fact, a dismembered appendage. His heart was running so quickly in his chest that it sounded almost like a helicopter as the blood coursed through his ears.

He grasped the bag by its bottom corners and dumped its contents onto the bed. Dean chortled both at himself for not realizing what it was sooner.

He picked the thing up gingerly, just his forefinger and thumb holding the handle. It had to be 10 inches long and there was a row of buttons.

Despite his better judgment, Dean pressed a button and it hummed to life and vibrated in his hand. The next button raised and lowered the speed.

When Sofie's phone rang, Dean jumped and dropped the thing back on the bed, feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Suddenly aware of the distinctive noise it was making, he tried to turn it off before answering the phone but as he pushed randomly at the buttons the damned thing wouldn't turn off.

The call went to voicemail and then the phone began to ring again, so Dean improvised and dropped a pillow over it to dampen the sound. He picked up the phone and checked the ID. Bobby.

"Oh my God am I glad you called me back!" he answered the phone.

"Calm down, kid, calm down. I couldn't understand most of your messages you were talking so fast! Just try and slow down and fill me in. First - are you safe?" Bobby replied, and Dean was stunned silent for a moment at the tenderness in the older man's tone. He usually yelled at him like a drill sergeant.

"I'm safe. Sort of. I mean, yeah, I'm not in any immediate danger," Dean replied.

"Ok, good. Now tell me this doesn't have to do with your stalker," Bobby said, and Dean frowned.

"Stalker? Sofie has a stalker?" he asked, and it was time for Bobby to fall silent. When he spoke again, he sounded like his usual gruff self.

"Who IS this?" he demanded, his gravelly voice sounding threatening enough even over the phone to make anyone nervous.

"Dean, Bobby. It's Dean Winchester, I woke up in Sofie's body and she woke up in mine," he told him, wondering how the hell to convince the man of what had happened. Hell, Dean would be skeptical if he wasn't living it. Then Bobby burst out laughing, a full-on belly laughs that only ended when it brought on a coughing fit. When he picked the phone back up, he was still out of breath.

"Woo, oh boy. Please tell me this is true and not one of your weird pranks!" he said, the humor still clear in his voice.

"You and Sam are getting way too much amusement out of our misery!" Dean told Bobby seriously.

"Ok, ok… Hold on…" Bobby sighed and Dean could hear him flipping through a book or journal. "What do you know about the case she was working on?"

"I have no idea, Bobby. They're still hours away and Sam is being slow as hell about replying to my texts."

"Ok, last time I spoke with you, uh, her, she was headway up north to investigate a series of people hitting massive winning streaks at the Native American casinos and then they would wake up with short-term amnesia and all their money gone."

"That lines up with her memory loss," Dean said. "Did she mention any leads on what was responsible? Could be a djinn," He suggested.

"No, she doesn't check in all that often anymore," Bobby told Dean. There was worry in his voice.

"What about this stalker?" Dean asked, peeking out from behind the curtains to see if there was anyone suspicious nearby.

"She had a fling with this wannabe hunter a while back - she's told him to leave her alone several times but he pops up almost anytime she's working a case and harasses her, tries to partner up in more ways than one. She says she even tried threatening him physically but it made it worse, not better," Bobby informed him with a heavy sigh.

"What's his name?" Dean asked.

"David Morgan," Bobby replied. "Never heard of him before she mentioned him and haven't met any other hunters who know him."

"That's weird, do you know what he looks like so I can keep an eye out?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, he's about 5' 9", with black hair, blue eyes, and tattoos on his forearms. He's a punk."

"About the same age as Sofie or older?"

"Younger, he's in his early to mid-twenties. She says his story about his age changes but he's never claimed to be over 25 and looks younger than that."

"Really?" Dean asked. He was learning a lot of surprising things about Sofie today.

"This'll help you out - she said he looked like a young Tommy Lee. I didn't know who the hell that was, but he's some rock star."

"Yeah, he's a big rock star. Motel Crue? Kickstart my Heart, Dr. Feel good?" Dean asked, but Bobby had never heard of the band. "He was married to Pamela Anderson in the 90's they had the big sex tape scandal."

"I think I vaguely remember Rupert mentioning that, but I still wouldn't know the guy from Adam if I saw him."

"Well, anyway, yeah that description helps a lot," Dean said.

"I'll see what I can find out," why don't you go out, and see what you can find out through word of mouth," Bobby suggested.

"Working on that now, just getting dressed," Dean replied and Bobby chuckled again before hanging up.

It took Dean another half an hour to get dressed, between figuring out how to get a bra on -he knew how to get them off easy enough, but he never knew how hard it could be to put them on- and getting distracted by having breasts in the first place. Once he managed to focus on the task, though, he put on a black racerback tank and because he couldn't take the long hair on his face and shoulders anymore, he pulled it into a ponytail. It was messy and off-center but it hurt too much to keep pulling on it. He didn't know how Sam could stand his long hair.

He found a set of keys and stepped out, looking around the parking lot to see what she was driving. There were only three cars in the parking lot, but looking at the keys Dean realized he wasn't looking for a car at all. He walked around a giant SUV and found what he was looking for in the next parking spot. It was a customized Harley Davidson street bob; freshly painted with a shiny midnight black finish all over. It was one of the most beautiful things Dean had ever laid eyes on.

"So she does have good taste when it comes to SOME things," Dean murmured as he ran his fingertips against the smooth finish admiringly, then threw a leg over the bike and took a seat. He turned the ignition and the bike rumbled and roared to life under him.

"Oh, yeah!" he smiled at the sound of the engine purring. The was a helmet ha going over one of the handlebars, but before putting it on, he thought for a moment. He didn't exactly have a lot of experience on a motorcycle, but he knew more than enough about mechanics he should be fine, right? He considered turning it off and walking - then he remembered she was driving his baby even though he had asked her not to.

"What goes around…" he thought as he put the helmet on, "comes back around!" Dean squeezed the throttle and the bike jerked forward, nearly shooting out from underneath him. He let off the throttle and managed to keep himself and the bike upright.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a hulk of a man who must've weighed 230 or 240 pounds at least, all muscle, hurrying toward him. The man also had a long reddish beard and wore a Harley-Davidson T-shirt with the sleeves cut off and the sides ripped open.

For one brief terrifying moment, Dean worried that this wasn't Sofie's bike after all. Dean lifted the visor on the helmet, then the man spoke.

"Hey, honey that is a lot of bike for a little thing like yourself. Does your boyfriend know you're trying to ride it?" he asked condescendingly. Dean was stunned into silence before he remembered what he looked like to the stranger.

"It's my bike, I'm fine. Throttle's got a hair trigger, that's all," he told him with a polite smile. The biker laughed and reached out to rest his hand on the small of Dean's back. Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise at the man's gall and looked him in the eye.

"Look, sweetheart, you're going to wreck that beautiful bike and even worse, that beautiful body. Why don't you just turn it off and go back into your room to wait for your old man."

Dean's jaw dropped, and he stood up off the bike. Normally he would have been at least three inches taller than the biker but now he was six inches shorter and weighed half as much. Still, he stood his ground.

"Listen here, buddy, this is my bike and even if it weren't what I do is.none of your damn business! You sure as hell don't have the right to go around touching people you don't even know."

"Ok, calm down…" the man laughed and looked down at Dean as if he were a feisty little dog trying to be fierce but only being annoying.

Dean threw a punch, but the man caught Sofie's small fist easily in his meaty hand and laughed at him. Dean wasn't proud of what he did next, but it felt necessary to kick the creep in the balls and drop him. So that's what he did. As the man lay on the ground, hands cradling his injured gonads and rocking back and forth, he yelled,

"You little bitch!" and Dean hopped back on Sofie's bike and got the hell out of there as quickly as he could.

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #supernatural fan fic

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whitneydaniell · 1 year

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by: Mackenzie Reed Published: Oct 31, 2023 Genre: Young Adult, Mystery, Fiction 368 Pages, E-Book ARC Courtesy of NetGalley

★★★

GoodReads Synopsis:

Lily Rosewood dreams of taking over her family's company one day. Her grandmother, Rosewood Inc's current chair, has always encouraged her, and Lily can't wait for Gram to teach her everything she needs to know to run the business.

But then Gram dies suddenly, and Lily's world is upended. When it's revealed that Gram's quarter of a billion dollar fortune is missing, Lily can't fathom what her future will hold now.

Even in death, Gram has a few tricks up her couture sleeve. A last letter from her with a cryptic clue sends Lily and three other teens on a treasure hunt that could change their lives forever-if they can survive it. And if they pull it off, they may be rewarded with more than just money. But they're not the only ones hunting for Gram's treasure, and soon the hunt becomes more dangerous than they ever could have imagined.

My Summary:

Silly hijinx. Teenagers. Family drama. This hunt for the Rosewood fortune gives National Treasure but with teenagers.

We're introduced to Lily Rosewood, the eldest granddaughter of Iris "Gram" Rosewood who is at the helm of the Rosewood family business. Lily is looking forward to taking over as Owner/CEO of Rosewood upon the death of Gram but instead, she is sent on a high-stakes treasure hunt for the billion-dollar fortune left behind by Gram.

With riddles and puzzles and clues to gather from all around town, Lily, with the help of some friends - who also have a connection with Gram - must get to the treasure before the treasure hunters who are also looking for the money.

My Review:

The Rosewood Hunt was a slow burn for me. It took me a few days to get into it and even once it started getting better, I skipped the descriptive paragraphs and only read the dialogue. The whole premise and plot felt dry to me. I sniffed out where the treasure would be; who was involved with the hunters, and figured out the ending almost to a "T".

The book's pacing was slow in the first half but, once it picked up toward the middle, everything moved quickly with the exception of a big final moment where there is way too much talking and observing when they should have been moving! To be fair, I also hate this in movies but, why is there so much dialogue and reflection with others when someone is chasing you?... R U N!!

This idea of a treasure hunt has been done before. There is a need for antagonists and others who throw a wrench in the plan, to throw you off the hunt. That's a given. The family drama is not new either. But my one real complaint is that I wish the drama had some more depth. For me, it seemed like all the conflicts were surface. The two cousins, once their "issue" is revealed is something so basic and immature -- well, they're young so *shrug*. Then the family drama with Nonna and Leo also made no sense. Why would his grandmother have an issue with HIM, of all people involved, his own grandson? That didn't make sense to me. However, I did like Caleb's story about being brave.

Final Thought: Where are Lily and Daisy's mothers? Why did they just run away never to be heard from again? That has bothered me since I finished the book.

One-Word Summary: St. Anthony

#Mackenzie Reed #the rosewood hunt #fiction #young adult #books i read #tbr 2023 #netgalley #books to read #mystery

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astersatdawn · 1 year

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Landmarks of Promise

Relationship: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto (Tododeku)

Rating: T

Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Established Relationship

Oneshot | 1.1k words

Shouto rubbed the fading scar tissue beneath his thumb. It’s simple skin now, years of healing leaving an almost non-existent white line. Time heals all wounds they say, but Shouto wondered if this little scratch would forever be a tiny road bump.

[Or, over the years, Shouto learned about Izuku’s scars.]

ao3 link: here

Shouto had seen all of Izuku’s scars, but he wasn’t familiar with most of them.

He’s familiar with the criss-crosses coating Izuku’s hands like a mangled glove—Shouto couldn’t forget. He will always remember how Izuku looked at him, teeth grit and eyes wild as he yelled in that moment, his hands bruising purple for each broken bone he’d given himself to make a point, and Shouto remembered the view clearly even if the vision in his right eye was hazy with scar and flame.

He suspected he’s familiar with one of the slashes on his body, though Shouto wouldn’t be able to tell which one. Izuku never told him if their fight with Stain had given him any scars, so maybe Shouto was creating a destination on Izuku’s skin that did not exist, not in the same way he witnessed how his hands twisted under the weight of saving Shouto.

The rest, though, began as strangers. He learned the textures of some of them: smooth parallel lines and waxy burns of differing depths but all the same starry shape. There was a history behind each scar, another story Shouto didn’t know, even as he traced the lichtenberg scar on Izuku’s stomach or kissed the ridges on his wrist.

Izuku would tell him about them, sometimes. It started slow and simple.

”I was being kinda careless,” Izuku said with a wistful smile. “I was at home, playing heroes with my mom. I stood on the back of the couch, thinking I’d be okay, and my mom, well, she didn’t even have the time to scold me before I fell off. There was a box there… I don’t remember why—I think it was a package or something? But I hit it and it somehow… did that.”

He glanced towards his feet which were on Shouto’s lap. Shouto rubbed the fading scar tissue beneath his thumb. It’s simple skin now, years of healing leaving an almost non-existent white line. Time heals all wounds they say, but Shouto wondered if this little scratch would forever be a tiny road bump.

Others were tinged with hints of stories he’d originally heard second-hand; raids and internships and battles Izuku was willing to further divulge upon his return from the hospital. In those initial explanations he’d talk about the adrenaline of the moment, blows recounted in that fast-pace manner not quite distant from the heat of battle itself.

It was only in the months after, once day had quieted into night, curtains drawn shut to keep out snooping stars, legs tangled and covers drawn to their chins to muffle their secrets, that Izuku would tell Shouto about them in another way, of the emotions so easy to bury for someone else’s sake, a personal moment rather than one meant for flashing cameras and dazzling spotlights.

“I was scared I wasn’t going to make it after getting that one,” Izuku admitted one of those nights as Shouto traced thick zig zags from Izuku’s collarbone to his waist.

Those words were said more often between the two of them than Shouto would like, for braving the fear of death was the unspoken truth of their chosen occupation, and an undeniable emotion to pair with each battle scar. But that fear never diminished the pride that came after as Izuku, with a soft smile, spoke of a memory of another person saved. As much as fear lingered, the scars were equally badges of honor neither of them would give up.

Most of Izuku’s scars were from battle. Few were from training accidents, and even fewer were from childhood games gone wrong. Yet it didn’t mean much, not when Izuku always had more scars than anyone else their age, from their teenage years to long after they outgrew the dorms.

The collection obtained during their years at UA hid the ones lying beneath, the ones strategically placed on Izuku’s flesh. “I did these,” he had whispered with lingering shame. Shouto had simply cradled his elbow and kissed the healed razor’s edge.

There was another set that Izuku didn’t divulge for the longest time, even long after the confessions of self-harm. The distant constellations on his skin—his shoulder, stomach, back, and calf—were the stories Izuku refused to tell, even long after Shouto knew how those scars had to come about, considering a training accident led to Shouto earning a freshly branded star for himself.

For a while, he wasn’t sure what his silence meant. Maybe it was Izuku’s way of letting Bakugou keep his place, from being incriminated by his past. Or that, somehow, keeping the past unspoken was meant as a sign of forgiveness, or maybe even as a symbol of a quiet grudge Izuku kept locked away from all, including himself.

But eventually, he did tell, on a night they laid side by side after nightmares latched onto every good thing they’ve ever held, reminding them of the wounds they carried between them.

“When he gave me that one he told me to jump off a roof and pray I’ll get a quirk in the next life.”

Shouto set his head on Izuku’s shoulder as if it’s the place he could hear a pulse. Yet, it was too far away for that, so Shouto buried his face into Izuku’s neck and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Sometimes it feels like that’s what happened that day—to get here, I mean. I’m still afraid one day I’ll open my eyes and realize I jumped off the roof All Might left me on, dreaming of the life I would never get to live before losing the one I had.”

“You’re here.” Lips brushed against sensitive skin, and Izuku shivered in his hands. Shouto squeezed his waist, and drew Izuku closer. Izuku buried himself deeper into Shouto as he clung onto the weight of the present. “I won’t let you go.”

The fabric of his shirt was tugged down further, knuckles dug into the edge of Shouto’s spine. “But if I wake up there and—”

“I’ll catch you. I’ll find you, whatever it takes. You’ll live.” In the past, today, tomorrow, every day after—when doesn’t matter as long as it’s forever. “I promise.”

Shouto’s hand drifted up and traced the roads crawling up Izuku’s back, following his map out of order. Each gentle touch was a draw to a memory, each one painful, but real and unforgettable. They’re landmarks for Shouto’s travels to stay by Izuku’s side, even if it meant their time must go out of order for Shouto to meet Izuku there.

These were the moments Shouto would never know the true depths of, wounds of both soul and bone meant to be carried by one. But he would memorize each for these were the symbols of Izuku’s journey. Wherever the beginning and ending was meant to be, Shouto would find his way there, for that was his vow to keep.

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