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irndad · 1 month

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won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man.

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one.

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk.

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership.

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you.

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself.

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning.

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks.

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection.

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone.

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation.

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically.

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this.

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting.

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride.

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth.

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips.

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic.

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?)

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wombywoo · 8 days

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do you have any ghostsoap favorite fics, perhaps?

boy do I....

I should preface this by saying that I'm pretty...particular with what types of fics I enjoy reading (I only like certain character interpretations/tropes/writing styles, etc) so bear with me...

These are all mostly canon-compliant, non-AUs, ones that I regard highly~

Seasons--by StinglessWasp: This is pretty much my go-to fic rec for anyone into CoD and ghostsoap in general. It showcases everything I love about these characters, in a setting that feels as authentic to the games as possible, while also exploring the depth and sincerity hidden under the surface. So well-written and paced--the dialogue and military references all contribute to that 'feels like a mission out of the game' experience. Plus, I just love this interpretation of our boys--the humor, the inner struggles, the intimacy--Wasp 100% *gets* these characters and it's a joy to read <3

Except You, You Can Stay--by Iravaid: While this one isn't *technically* ghostsoap until the last chapter, in my opinion, it's required reading for anyone who gives a shit about Simon Riley. This is *the* character study--an intimate dissection of Ghost's past that seems so realistic and grounded, you forget how ludicrous those comics really are. Ira takes such care in treating these heavy topics with delicacy and effectiveness. Each chapter has you going 'oh wow, this is even better than the last', but as a whole--it's a stunning, fleshed-out glimpse into Simon as the character he was always meant to be. And the final chapter which eases you into his relationship with Johnny is so authentic and sweet, it just makes perfect sense that they should be together, and that this poor poor man deserves some goddamn love <3

bleeding in the house of god--by revolvermonkcelot: This is a really great 'missing scene' fic, a perfect opportunity to explore the in-between moments that the game so carelessly chooses to gloss over. I can't praise Monk's writing enough--it's slick and crisp and very tasty; the imagery just jumps off the page and you can practically feel the sweat. Plus, the dialogue exchanges between our two boys are so well-timed and in-character--love all the slang and British references~ This whole fic reads like an addition to their mission flirting, and I'm all for it! You can truly tell this author has such deep understanding and experience with this franchise (winkwinkwink, this is a joke) Read it--it's good!

The Dead are all Living--by Kabbal: This fic blew me away when I first read it. It's such a unique take on the retirement trope, I just adore this interpretation of Simon as an aging recluse while he builds his home. I tend to lean towards more subtle, grounded characterizations of Mr Riley, and this really fits the bill. All of these glimpses and fragments into his post-military life contribute to an overarching love story; the scenes with Johnny are so poignant, it's like you're pining alongside them both. I love how not-perfect they are; flawed and difficult and real. There are some moments and lines that just....struck something in me so deeply. I'm sure I'll still be thinking about it for a long long time <3

Portrait of Taction--by a_platypus: Another Simon-centric fic that I absolutely love. The character voice in this is off the charts, I can hear him so vividly in all of his inner dialogue and stunted attempts at conversation. Simon is so endearingly dense in this fic, you're just waiting for him to finally get his act together, but the clumsy, oblivious steps he takes in his relationship with Soap are truly a treat to read. I love this version of Johnny too--confident and considerate, but still hopelessly crushing on his superior. It's comedic, well-written, and the paragraphs describing Soap's journal give some of the best insights into his character I've seen <3

come on, haunt me--by flyby2: This was a really good long fic that I took my time savoring. What could have been a typical 'on leave' fic instead took time to develop a unique spin on the backstories as well as throwing our boys into some wholesome encounters. Both Soap and Ghost felt very true to character, and I appreciate the exploration of PTSD and the subsequent struggles that come along with...all that. There was a really nice balance in having their romance spread across the chapters, and I can promise a very sweet, happy conclusion <3

in the mess of it all--by flowersferns: A lovely one-shot that exhibits some of my favorite aspects of these two characters. I'm a sucker for 'one of them is hurt, the other is freaking out, they are both idiots in love, etc'. There are some really great dialogue and character moments in this, plus the overall prose hits hard. Love this take on their romance--the mutual trust, the familiarity of their bond. And just the general theme of impermanence--the inevitability of what this relationship means for them--two soldiers, willing and ready to sacrifice their lives at a moment's notice, still clinging to each other because...god...that's all they have---big fan of this :'D <3

Lapsus--by Lisbetadair: Another really great one-shot and 'missing scene' fic. The authenticity in the writing is spot-on--it's like you can feel Soap's pain right off the bat. I love how smoothly the banter flows between the two, and the attention to detail and references all help lend to that 'hardened military man' exterior. Ghost smelling like flowers because of a face wipe is such a delightful addition, plus the scene where Soap is, ah, donald-ducking it in just a t-shirt with his jewels out is such a funny mental image, I still think of it fondly from time to time. It's funny, it's surprisingly cute, it's very in-character. Stick around for some awkward but adorable cuddles <3

I'm sure I have more to recommend, but these are the ones I can personally endorse for now~

#asks #fic rec #I've never actually done a fic rec list like this before...#a small glimpse into my nightly routine of browsing the ao3 trenches for something remotely readable 🫡#funny how most of these are Ghost centric...#I'm *very* particular on how I prefer Soap to be portrayed and wooo boy...is it a struggle 😔

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delirious-donna · 8 days

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Morning Epiphany [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: cockwarming with Hiromi was suggested to me when I opened my requests/ideas for this wonderful man and I immediately leapt on it because YES!

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: cockwarming, reader being the teeniest bit mean to poor Hiro, whining and whimpering from the lawyer…

Masterlist

“Hiro… it’s so early, why are you in here?”

The sun had barely begun to crest, the earliest rays warming the bedspread that was surprisingly empty. A hand reaching out to your husband’s side confirmed the first stirring of your consciousness, he wasn’t here, and if he wasn’t here then there were only two places he could be.

Despite the lure of sleep trying to coax you back into the cozy haze of dreams, you couldn’t possibly sleep when your other half was missing, and so early too. The blinking lights of the alarm clock signalled the hour and helped to push your feet to the rug by the bed, stretching and pouting.

The bathroom was empty, there was no remnant of steam from the scalding hot showers he took every morning and you scowled at your dishevelled reflection in the mirror. Your hair stuck up at odd angles, eyes puffy from how quickly you got out of bed and your sleepshirt—an old well-worn sweatshirt of Hiromi’s—was creased beyond belief.

Your steps took you towards the office and the scent of freshly brewed coffee that wafted enticingly into your nose. The door creaked on antique hinges, your missing man turning with his brow furrowed from having his concentration broken. The expression shifted into a smile almost immediately, a sheepish smile at that.

“Did I wake you? I didn’t mean to,” he apologised sincerely, settling back in his chair to stretch his arms up and over his head. The wide sleeves of his black t-shirt, now faded to grey at best, pushed back and your eyes dipped to the hint of black happy trail that peeked from beneath the hem with a sigh of appreciation.

Hiromi couldn’t help but chuckle. Hastily he fixed his face with a look of admonishment, one sleek eyebrow rising near to his hairline. “Eyes up here, Mrs Higuruma.”

“Sorry—wait. Why am I apologising? It’s the arse crack of dawn, what are you doing up let alone working?”

His eyes drooped, nervously fidgeting with the pen on his desk.

Before he could respond, you grabbed the back of his chair and scooted it out further from the desk to his confusion. The lines wrinkling his forehead smoothed out when your knee bracketed his hip, followed by the other until you sat straddling his lap. Your fingers ran through the limp strands of the hair hanging near into his eyes, humming at the glorious warmth of his body melding into yours.

“Epiphany moment?” Hiromi offered uncertainly. He was too preoccupied by the soft squish of your hips and backside, hands full of the meat of you, and desperately trying to will his cock not to harden any further. To his disappointment and your triumph, he was failing miserably.

You planted teasing kisses to his jawline, barely-there touches of your lips until you were decorating his throat and prominent Adam’s apple with wet little marks. “Don’t let me stop you, Hiro… you can pretend I’m not here. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

He dropped his chin, staring at you with suspicious disbelief. Swallowing thickly when you offered your best most innocent looking smile, laying your cheek on his shoulders and drawing one of his hands away from where he was pawing at your rump. “Work, if that’s what you want to do.”

Hiromi groaned and looked skyward as if some answer would arrive if he begged for it hard enough. He knew this game well enough, and not once had he won. He didn’t fancy his odds on this particular day either.

It started out fairly uneventful. Hiromi managed to refocus his attention towards the computer screen and the ruling he had been in the middle of reading when you appeared, but soon enough the words no longer made sense. Your fingertips grazed his chest, delicate scrapes of your nails across the cotton hiding his nipples and it was maddeningly distracting.

Instead of calling it out, knowing it would only result in you doubling down your efforts, he exhaled through his nose and shifted in his seat to give some respite to the erection chafing the waistband of his pyjama trousers. Immediately, he knew it was the wrong move. Your pelvis sunk closer to him, rubbing more friction into his aching length and he swore he could smell your arousal hanging heavy in the air.

He did his best to ignore your naughty fingers moving between you, to pretend you weren’t pulling him free and playing in the mess of precum leaking from his tip. His fingers tightened around the mouse in his hand, the sound of plastic groaning from the onslaught of pressure enough to make him blink and loosen his hold.

“You will be the death of me, love.”

The loose fist around his shaft paused. “Keep working or I’ll go back to bed… alone.” You were slick with arousal, the lack of panties leaving a dark stain on the crotch of Hiromi’s pyjamas that didn’t go unnoticed by either of you. The temptation to lift to your knees and sink down onto his cock was building, but you couldn’t reward him so readily for his leaving you in bed this morning. Not until he was a little more desperate, and by the hue of the rash at his neck and dappling of his cheeks, there was still a little ways to go.

Hiromi was failing fast, and he knew you were waiting to pounce and worsen his predicament. Worsen was hardly the right term given how eager he was to be swallowed by your plush velvet-lined walls, but since you were insistent that he continue to work, he wasn’t going to be rewarded until he did. The pen scratched across the surface of his notepad, the ink drying in shaky lines whilst you cupped his balls and rolled them between your fingers and thumb. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he was writing made sense but if it gave the illusion of cooperation, he’d write utter gibberish all day long.

You held out as long as you could manage, the burning desire palpable on the dewy apples of your cheek and the heat of your breasts hidden beneath your husband’s sweatshirt. At long last you teased his pulsing cock between your folds, tapping the sticky cockhead against your pert little clit and finally lining him up at your entrance. The muscles contracted around him, that first inch a delicious stretch that pushed you to your limits not to slam right down to his fat balls and cry out from the bliss.

The descent was drawn out, testing your patience and resolve to the limits, as well as forcing stuttering breaths out of Hiromi’s heaving chest. You didn’t chastise the return of his hands, the adoration sweeping through his palms as they raised the hem of your sweatshirt so he could see himself disappearing into your pussy. He fisted the fabric, grasping at your hips with eyes heavy with lust and you simply had to taste him, even only for a moment.

Your lips crashed atop his, tongue licking over the seam of his bottom lip and pressing into his mouth to swallow the whine that crawled from his throat. It echoed inside your head, the urge to roll your hips over and over until he filled your belly with his seed burned like a white-hot flame. Your skin itched, fingers curled into claws that dove into Hiromi’s thick head of hair and you nearly didn’t break your kiss, nearly were consumed by the passion you felt in your heart.

“Hmmmpff.” Hiromi wailed when you finally came to some semblance of your senses, your pelvis flush against his but no longer moving. He stared at you in longing, watching whilst you swiped a finger over your kiss-swollen lips and sucked the remnants of his spit from the pad. The smile you offered was purely saccharine, and his throat itched with the need to bounce you on his cock until you gushed all over him and the chair.

“Please?” He asked on a whisper, aquiline nose nudging into your cheek.

“You have your epiphany moment to deal with mister lawyer, c’mon… you can last a little longer. Let me warm you and once I’m satisfied, I’ll ride you until your legs want to give out,” you purred, mouth at the shell of his ear and leaving a kiss at the bone just behind.

Silently, he begged and pleaded for mercy on his tainted soul, as if some divine intervention was likely to intercept, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. You were the only divine deity in his world and your determination to give him a taste of his own medicine for abandoning the sacred ritual of morning cuddles was written across your features.

A sweat broke out across his brow as he studied the lines of text on the screen without recognising a single word. A drip of arousal dribbled from the spot you united, dribbling over the seam of his balls to stain the leather seat beneath. You clenched, and he crushed the pen in his hand, palm filled with tiny plastic shards that speared his skin.

“Darling… light of my life—I will do anything, anything, if you’ll just ride me,” he whimpered, discarding the busted pen and grabbing up your hands to kiss earnestly across your fingertips then knuckles. Hiromi was barely restraining the buck of his hips, the warmth almost too much wrapped around his dick but without the friction and rhythm of movement… it wasn’t enough.

Your resolve was being tested once more. The subtle wobble of his lower lip and the sincere longing in his whisky-smoked eyes cracked the shell of your conviction. Easing forward in one languid roll of your hips earned you the most delightful and pitiful whimper you had heard in a long time. His head fell back against the headrest of his chair, eyes screwed shut whilst you felt him twitch within your walls. He might just cum like this if you didn’t do something, and actually, you wouldn’t mind that in the slightest.

Never more had you enjoyed cockwarming Hiromi than at this moment, and you vowed to draw it out as long as he could endure.

“Fuck, Hiro… you feel so good. So warm and snug,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into him more. “Five more minutes…”

#delirious writes #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma smut #hiromi smut #higuruma hiromi smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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l4long-winded · 2 months

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i really wanna see carmy groveling 🤭 might be fun, after a fight or something

how cruel... i like the way you think! i tried to write him as close to his character here while still adding in that groveling element. i hope i've done it justice!

o.s. a guilty heart's plea(s)

summary: carmen's said some unforgivable things to you. and yet here he is at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)

reflection: as much as i pride myself in my ability to write scenes and descriptions, i still struggle a lot with making dialogue sound good while flowing with my writing. i think this has been good practice for me to really get inside this character's head and see what he could possibly say with a prompt as heavy as this. this took me about a week to write so i really hope i gave it the time and energy it deserves. thank you all for reading and feedback is always welcomed, appreciated, and encouraged!

warnings: cursing, angst, established relationship, implied smut, reminiscing, they're on a break, inner monologue, carmen's pov, rambling, self-loathing, carmen pleading, inability to express feelings, apologies, missed calls, insecurities, acts of service, sydney sweeney mention, smoking, somewhat happy ending (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 2,132

( this work has been cross-posted to ao3 )

Carmen knocks on the screen door ahead of him. It’s his seventh time doing so, the clattering and aggravating sound of metal reverberating against the second door behind that one. Dust coats his knuckles because it transferred from the opaque metal, a small spot shinier than the rest of the door because he continued to rap at the same area. Maybe he should clean it for you later if you actually decide to speak to him again. His hands fidget at his sides, clenching and releasing, staring blankly as he thinks of all the times he’s come over. For his first initial visit, you unlocked the door, gave him a cautious glance over your shoulder, and then led him inside. During the second time, you held his hand as you stepped past the threshold, squeezing it in reassurance.

On Valentine’s Day, when he surprised you with an assortment of flowers from the farmer’s market, you greeted him with a deep kiss, tugging the collar of his shirt to pull him inside of your house. He didn’t show any resistance, blindly following your lead, dropping off the flowers onto your couch as your hands lifted his shirt, and your mouths departed from one another for a smidgen of a second before they found each other again, more impassioned and desperate.

“Open the door, come on, I’m sorry,” he says, more so to himself than your screen door. He’s been close to shouting at it this entire time, making his pleas, encouraging you to open it for him so he can have a discussion with you face-to-face.

He’s called you plenty of times. Each one has either rang for as long as the line allowed or went straight to voicemail. Two weeks have passed without seeing each other. Two long weeks of unanswered text messages he’s sent day by day and missed calls clogging up your phone’s notifications. You’re ignoring him and he knows he deserves it, guilty as the hand in the cookie jar, but he still can’t shake this overwhelming feeling inside of him to see you again. The albums dedicated to you in his gallery are not enough to satisfy this. His fingers twitch every time he swipes at an image and relives the sensation of running them along your skin. That’s when his nose begins to miss the scent that clings to your neck. That’s when his ears long to hear the lilt of your laughter and that particular way you say his name. That’s when his tongue rejects the nicotine and implores him for a taste of your chapstick, or the bubblegum flavor lingering in your mouth greeting him after a shift at work, or the giggles you fall into as he chases the subtle pecks you graciously feed him.

The door behind the one he’s attending to opens. There you are. He can’t see you since the sun is positioned right behind him, warming his back as it sets into the background. At most, he makes out the silhouette of your frame, recognizable to his eyes as he’s acquainted himself with every curve and slope of you, but he’s aware you fully see him on the other side. He wonders if you’re able to tell how little he’s slept since a look in the mirror this morning painted the picture of an exhausted man through dark rings under his eyes and a slackened jaw.

“What do you want, Carmen?” You ask. Not Carmy. Not Bear. Not any of that cheesy shit Richie pokes fun at him for. Carmen. He’s not sure whether he’s relieved to hear the sound of your voice or offended he’s lost every sweet moniker you’ve bestowed upon him.

“To talk,” he explains quickly, “I just want to talk. If you want me to fuck off, then,” he inhales sharply. It would kill him if you told him to fuck off, but he’s also not about to make you uncomfortable for an issue he caused. “Then I’ll fuck off.”

Unlike Carmen, you’re not rapidly firing away sentences in response to him. You’re quiet for a beat and it’s rather agonizing for him because even though there’s only a door separating the two of you, you’re still so far out of his reach. He’s tempted to cup his hands over his eyes and look past the individual holes of the door to check if you’re still there.

“Go ahead,” you say, interrupting his thoughts and refuting his fear you’ve stalked back inside your living room.

“Talk.”

He gulps. He was hoping to at least do this without a barrier in the way, but he’s not about to fumble the one opportunity and chance you’ve given him after two weeks of nothing. He’d be a fool to.

“Fuck… I…” Well, this is off to a great start. He tries to think about the texts he’s sent. He had time to sit down and write out apologies and yet none of them are splurging onto his tongue to save him the awkward discomfort currently stirring in his stomach.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said,” Can you let me figure this shit out without breathing down my fucking neck ringing in his ears, haunting him like a phantom stuck on his shadow because it’s one of the last things he said to you before you took off and rightfully gave him the cold shoulder.

“I was stressed and frustrated and, and I wasn’t thinking. Those aren’t excuses for being shitty,” he shakes his head so hard that his hair untucks from his hat and grazes his eyelashes, “If anything, they make me more shitty because only assholes do that and that’s what I am. I’m a fucking asshole and and and and…” He’s rambling, losing the point of this. He’s got a talent for berating himself. He falls into it naturally if he’s not careful.

“And I fucked up. I really, really fucked up. I didn’t mean any of it. I never wanted to hurt you.” But you did. “I don’t know why I do that. I don’t know why I ruin shit, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but something is and you, you, you always… you’re always there and and and then you weren’t and…”

This is hard. He’s never been good at articulating his feelings. He wants nothing more than to just tell you how he’s fucked up and you’re one of the only people who doesn’t think he is, but after his true colors have splintered out of him and sliced at you as they have other people in his life he cares for, your perception’s possibly changed from that. He believes he’s confirmed every horrible thing he’s ever thought and said about himself and usually, he can handle that self-loathing and dissonance on his own, but consternation bubbles in his ribcage and sparks embers licking at the lining of his stomach at the very idea of you becoming desensitized to the version of himself you’ve fallen for. He wants to shove the curtains back into place, pretend you never stumbled upon the man behind them, and continue walking hand in hand with you in the reverie he knew wouldn’t last. But damn it. He wants it to last longer than this. It wasn’t enough time. He craves more of it, grasping for the seconds in his hands despite how much they’re attempting to evade him as the clock ticks and ticks.

“Fucking fuck,” he bellows, “Man, fuck me, fucking fuck me.” Vulnerability is so fucking repulsive. Who the hell invented it? He can’t finish a keynote to save his life.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he settles on.

“I can’t fucking sleep, I can’t fucking eat, Richie keeps calling me a dumb shit like I’m not already thinking that. I-I-I need you. I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t, but I do. I don’t blame you for leaving and I don’t blame you for ghosting me, but please, I can’t fucking do this anymore. I know I’m being a selfish fuck, but I can’t shake what you make me feel and I won’t leave until you talk to me.”

He stares hard at the door. The sun’s lower in the sky, making it more difficult to see if you’re still standing there listening to what he has to say, as jumbled of a mess that it is. His hands leave his sides, anxiously pressing palms first into the metal like it’ll ground him. An urge presents itself to rip it off its hinges and see it for himself rather than wait for verification, but he manages to remain steady where he stands. It’s about the same experience he’s had over the past two weeks of texting and calling to no avail. You’re not saying anything. You’re not denying his insecurities, you’re not soothing his temper, you’re not reflecting it, and you’re not engaging like he’s envisioned time and time again. You’re eluding him. You’re slipping past his fingers like liquid as he desperately grasps.

“Please, please, please say something.” His forehead leans into the surface, eyes shutting tight. “Tell me I’m not shit, tell me you never want to see me again, please talk to me.”

Please forgive me, he swallows. Please forgive me and take me back.

“Just… please… I… I want to fix this. I want to make it up to you. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Please don’t shut me out. I’ll make you something? Yeah? Your favorite? What about that place you wanted to go off Lake Shore? Or, or that movie you wanted to see with, uh, that Sweeney girl? What the fuck was it?” Carmen’s eyebrows knit together as he tries to remember the name. “We can go see it… we can go to dinner… I can make dinner. I can take time off work and we can travel somewhere, we can take a trip like you wanted, whatever—I want what you want. Please…? Hello?”

Carmen speaks your name a few times among his pleading. His forehead slowly detaches from the door, indents of the mesh left behind on his skin. He goes quiet to listen for any movement, but he can’t even hear your breathing like this. He can’t hear anything besides the wind picking up, blowing cold over the tips of his ears sticking out from his hat. He steps away from the door, a lump in his throat alongside all the affection he doesn’t know how to let out that he swallows with great difficulty. Instead of walking away from your house, he sits on the cement step leading up to the walkway. He meant it when he said he wouldn’t leave until you talked to him.

He camps outside your house. One hand fishes for his carton of Sapphires, plucking a cigarette from the box. He’s got about two left since he’s been chain-smoking to fill the void. Carmen greatly considers trying to make his plea again on his knees in front of the door if that’s what it’ll take as he lights the end away from his mouth. The pressure of the cement will be a motherfucker, but he’s concocting another game plan to gain your attention since he’s already here and the walk back to his apartment is too long for him to jump at it. If that doesn’t work, then he can leave and come back in the morning before work. He can afford to be slightly late as his normal is showing up early and Sydney and Tina know the prep work that needs to be done.

All his thoughts fade as he hears the door behind him creak. He glances back suddenly, catching it as it slowly swings open. He’s in the midst of standing to his feet and flicking his cigarette into a patch of dirt when you come into view. Your hair’s messy, a white tank top on your torso, and a pair of fleece pajama pants he knows are new. His hands yearn to become acquainted with them as he has your other bottoms. Carmen stares at how you’re hugging yourself, presumably because the cold air is filtering into your warm house. The goosebumps littered over your biceps and forearms confirm his theory.

He’s on you in an instant. His arms wrap firmly around your frame, sighing out as his stress undergoes the mitigation of your own arms embracing him back. Your hand finds his hair, incidentally causing his hat to fall off to the floor, but he doesn’t care. He’s far too busy stamping your temples, cheeks, jawline, and lips with kisses he has weeks of time to make up for.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles into your hairline, “so, so, so sorry. Missed you.”

#l4l.writes #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto angst #l4l.oneshot #the bear fic #carmy the bear #jeremy allen white #a guilty heart's plea(s)

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 2 months

Text

Poems

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: dean searches your room when you’re missing, and the love letters he finds break his heart

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 1.9k (1.5k excluding poems)

warnings: reader goes/is missing, language,

author’s note: please don’t make fun of my “poetry”, i know it’s not good that’s why i don't write poems lol

“Hey Dean, I’m working a case near Wichita so I’ll probably be back home by the end of the week. See you soon, bye.”

“That’s the last I heard from her,” Dean told his brother after playing him the message you left. “It’s been over a week, I’m gettin’ worried here!”

“Do you know what kinda case she was working?” Sam asked, Dean shook his head. “Okay, well I’m sure she’s fine, Dean. Let’s call the hospitals around where she is and ask if she’s there.”

“You do that, I’m gonna head to Wichita,” Dean replied.

“I think we should call the hospitals first, Dean. She said she was near Wichita, she could be anywhere from here to there!”

Dean sighed but agreed with Sam’s plan.

The boys had no luck with any of the hospitals so they decided to head over to Wichita and look for you. They searched for a few days before heading back to the bunker, hoping you might be there waiting for them. You weren’t, of course, and that only made their worry grow.

You’d been missing for nearly two weeks!

Dean thought there might be some kind of clue in your room and decided that searching it was next on his to-do list. Though he knew he was grasping at straws, he did it anyway.

Opening the door to your room, he smiled at the poster near your bed. It was the one he’d gotten you for Christmas last year. It was a kind of gag gift—it was his favorite band. (His real gift had been much more thoughtful.)

He began his search at your desk, digging through the mess of papers splayed out on the wood surface. His brows furrowed when he found one paper in particular. It looked like… a love poem?

The way your hair looks in the morning

The way your laugh adds life to moments boring

The way your breath hits my neck when you’re standing just behind me

Reaching over to grab something off the table

A lore book, of all things to be

And the way your eyes light up when you look into mine

I swear I almost see a hint of love

Behind those piercing starlights

Your lips on mine is what I need

Did you hear me?

I said kiss me, you fool!

We’ve not got much time

In this line of life

And I need you at my side.

Dean didn’t know if the poem would be considered “good” in the public eye, but he knew it made his heart clench. You were in love? But… with whom?

To him, the words were beautiful, and the thought that you wrote them about someone else broke his fucking heart. He knew there were no clues to your whereabouts in the next poem, but of course, he read it anyway.

I think of you when I drive and spot a classic car

I think of you when I eat a cheeseburger

And I’ll turn it upside down when I’m missing you

I think of you when I hear a Zepplin song

And I turn the music up when I’m not with you

I think of you when I see anyone wear flannel

Or a leather jacket that’s clearly a size or two too big

And I love to think of you

It just makes sense to me

I love to picture you beside me

At night when I can’t sleep

Or when I get scared of what I’m facing

I think of what you would do

Day or night

Night, day, or noon

I always think of you

Whoever this mystery person was, they were fucking lucky. Dean had never felt so jealous in his entire life. He always thought you two had a “will they won’t they” side to your relationship but at that moment he realized it was completely one-sided. The fun, flirty side to all your late-night conversations had just been friendly. Two friends playfully talking as if they both wanted to be more.

Of course Dean wanted to be more. Of course he knew he wanted to be with you. But now? Now he knew he’d either missed his chance or he simply never had one.

You were in love with someone that wasn’t him. And the love you’d been writing about wasn’t the kind someone gets over. It’s the kind that sticks—for life. The kind that people write songs about, the kind that people fight wars over, and the kind that makes people go crazy in the best way.

He knew he’d found that love when he first fell for you, but it turned out you had found that love in someone else.

“Anything?” Sam asked, walking into your room.

“Uhm,” Dean cleared his throat, hoping his eyes didn’t look as cloudy as they felt. “No, nothing important. Just some love letters or something.”

Sam furrowed his brows and picked up one of the poems off the desk, one that Dean had not read yet. As the taller Winchester read what you wrote his eyes grew wide, practically popping out of his head as his mouth fell open.

“Oh my fucking god!” Sam exclaimed. “Y/n’s in love with you?” He looked at his older brother in shock.

“Me? No, these poems are about whoever she’s been seeing recently, they aren’t about me. We’re just friends.”

“You haven’t read this one yet, have you?” Sam asked with a small smile before handing it over.

You asked me today; “what’s your favorite color?”

And I just shrugged; “I don’t know, blue?”

Cause how could I have said the truth?

The color I love most in the world

The color that brings me nothing but joy

In this sad, awful little life

Is the green and hazel of your eyes

The emerald diamonds that shine

When you look into the sun

The soft hazel that looks over at me

When we’re reading in the library

How can I tell you all of this

When the question is so simple and plain

How do I go into such specific detail

About the color I’m in love with

Without freaking you out

Or scaring you away

Or making you laugh at me

Because I know your favorite color

And I know it’s not the color of my eyes

“You…You think this is really about me?” Dean asked his little brother, hoping Sam was right.

“Dean in all my life I have never seen anyone but you eat a burger bun-side-down,” Sam chuckled a little having read one of the poems Dean had read earlier.

“Oh my god.” Dean furrowed his brows, looking back down at the paper in his hands. “We’ve gotta find her, Sammy, I gotta tell her!”

“Tell her that you went through her stuff while she was gone? Don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“No! Tell her I’m in love with her! Tell her that the color of her eyes is my favorite fucking color too! And every time her favorite band comes on the radio I turn it up, and every time I see a woman wearing her type of clothes I think about her. Tell her that all I do every waking moment of every day is wish I was with her, wish I was holding her in my arms so I could never let go.”

“I think you just told her.” Sam smiled, nodding to where you now stood at your door. Dean turned around quickly. Tears of joy stung your eyes as you looked at him and smiled.

“You love me?” you asked.

“More than anything,” Dean admitted as he hurried to you. He wrapped you in a tight hug, kissing your temple quickly before he tucked your head under his chin. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call, it’s a long story,” you mumbled. “When vampires ban together with twisted humans, they’re a lot harder to kill.”

“We were really worried about you,” Dean admitted. “Like…fucking terrified.”

“Is that why you decided to dig through my personal shit?” you asked. You were one hundred percent kidding, but Dean was still nervous.

“Yeah…sorry,” Sam cringe-clenched his teeth, “it was my fault.”

You and Dean pulled back from the hug, but you took his hand in yours as you narrowed your gaze at the younger hunter.

“I know your tell, Sammy,” you said. “But it’s sweet that you’re trying to cover for Dean.”

“Yep, all Dean’s fault,” Sam admitted before heading for the door, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder on his way out. “Good luck.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, I swear,” Dean told you quickly. “I was looking for something that might tell me where the hell you were.”

“How many did you read?” you asked.

“Three,” Dean sighed, still thinking you were pissed at him.

“So…you know, then? That I’m hopelessly in love with you? And you think I’d be mad at you for looking through my stuff?”

“I mean, I know you value your privacy.”

“Dean,” you started, putting a hand on his cheek and turning his face to look down at you, “would you please just fuckin’ kiss me already?”

He seemed almost surprised by your question but he quickly smiled as he bent down and kissed you. His one hand stayed clasped in yours while his other went to your waist and then trailed to your lower back. The hand you had on his cheek went to the upper back of his neck so you could tangle your fingers in his hair. The smiles on both of your faces only grew before you both pulled away.

“Wow, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Dean mumbled before he let out a short, breathy laugh.

“Me too,” you replied.

You’d been back home for a few days now and you had explained the whole missing situation to the brothers. You told them how the simple vampire hunt turned sour quickly when you realized the small-town’s sheriff was in on it and helped the vamps with making humans just disappear. They’d made you as a hunter instantly and held you hostage for a few days before you killed your way out.

Dean never left your side so when he saw a new poem on your desk his brows furrowed. Curiosity got the better of him as he sat down to read it.

My god aren't I lucky

Now that you're holding me at night

And that first time we kissed in the doorway

I could’ve sworn I was kissing pure sunshine

When your lips hit mine it was better

Then I could’ve ever imagined

And the love poems I've written became

Manifested words of affirmation

The butterflies in my stomach fluttered

And the blood rushed to my head

Think I could stay like this forever

Won't overthink it, I’ll just go and kiss you instead

“Well, well, well.” You came up behind him, and put your hands on his shoulders before you trailed them down and clasped them together over his chest, leaning your chin on his shoulder and kissing his cheek. “Look who’s digging through my shit again.” You smiled against his skin. He turned his head and placed a deep kiss on your lips.

“I’m not even sorry this time, because I think this might be the best thing I’ve ever read.”

“I love you,” you said and kissed him again.

“I love you so fuckin’ much,” he mumbled back.

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samwinchesterism · 1 month

Text

in re: “cas knows dean better than sam”

“cas sees dean as a whole person and sam just sees dean’s façade as his big brother slash parent” but like how and where. outside of your fanfiction. season and episode. scene and line. if it’s so obvious and apparent you should have at least 3-5 concrete examples right? “sam doesn’t know dean carried him out of the burning house” yeah but did cas? outside of a footnote in the angelic manila folder they gave him between seasons 3 and 4 so he could better manipulate him and sam into doing heaven’s bidding? like if you’re going to say “cas knows dean better than sam” than you need to show how cas succeeds where you perceive sam to be failing at the very least. but even your perceptions of how sam doesn’t measure up are so warped, blinkered, and moronic that it wouldn’t even be worth much if you could provide the textual evidence, but at least you’d have a semblance of a point. like say anything without going “as an eldest daughter…” “well my relationship with my sibling isn’t…” please say anything without fucking projecting your own self-pitying crybaby bullshit onto your little woobie dean and using the actual canon text of the show. I’m literally begging you.

like the thing of it all is and always has been that you’re so hell-bent on twisting the sam and dean relationship to fit into this narrow and almost entirely inaccurate mold which is the basis upon which you build the entire Destiel Mythos that you literally lose all sense of media literacy. you don’t even miss the forest for the trees, you miss the trees for like, the pretend invisible things you’re seeing in between the trees, the forest is a whole long way away from your current level of perception. because the Destiel Mythos is based entirely on the fact that dean is Not Seen and Not Appreciated and Not Loved and Cannot Be Himself until cas comes along, and that Family (read: sam) Is Only A Burden on Him That He Must Be Freed From In Order to Flourish, so you keep trying to warp the sam relationship into something that is only one dimension of it – and keep ignoring the ways in which dean is seen, loved and understood within it, because you need to keep lying to yourselves that there is a narrative need to emancipate dean from something that he has never wanted emancipation from because it is ultimately a net good for dean in the particular circumstances of their lives. it’s also profoundly unhealthy, codependent, evil and toxic etc. (a lot more dean’s fault than sam’s but I will nawt be getting into all that right now) but that doesn’t change the fact that sam and dean both know and understand and feel deeply that they are each other’s person – that they know the best and love the most in the world. but that – which IS true canon fact – is incompatible with the Destiel Mythos so it must be ignored and all good sense must be thrown out the window in order to do it.

anyway i digress there are two main categories of Bad Thinking that i will be addressing below

childhood/ “parent/child” / blah blah blah

every single thing people are saying in favour of the deeply stupid thesis in the title of this post is proof positive of the very silly form of ‘analysis’ I just described. a few things:

“wah sam didn’t know that dean carried him out of the burning house :( this means that dean withholds things from sam to protect him because he is a PARENT and sam can only know things about him in the context of him being a PARENT to him” – what the fuck are you on about genuinely. first of all reducing the sam/dean relationship exclusively to parent/child is in itself foolishness for so many reasons that I don’t have time for right now. but also, it’s clear that this is just something that happened when sam was a baby that just never came up. in the scene (1.09) where this is brought up, dean is mildly surprised that he or john never mentioned that detail and then states that sam knows the rest of the story (i.e. the actual traumatic stuff) just as well as dean does – which is true, demonstrably whenever they talk about it.

obviously there are some things that happened to dean in their childhood that sam doesn’t know about (or didn’t know about, until told in whatever episode they come up in). equally, there are things dean doesn’t know about sam’s childhood, e.g. the fact that he was so lonely he needed a zanna (11.08). or how dean didn’t remember that sam was friends with barry cook until he mentions it when they go back to their old school (4.13). or about the nature of sam’s relationship with amy pond (7.03). these don’t mean that ‘sam withheld these things to protect dean out of parental love’ lol, it’s just that there are details and events in each of their lives that the other happens to not have been told about.

similarly “sam didn’t even know dean wanted to be a firefighter L” girl did dean know sam wanted to be a lawyer? in 1.01 he’s pretty surprised that sam has a law school interview. the point here isn’t “neither sam nor dean know each other well,” these are minutiae that aren’t relevant to how well you know someone as a whole, and very poorly demonstrate the bad and inaccurate point that dean withholds things from sam the way a parent does a child (on a constant or regular basis). obviously the way they were raised, sam was deemed too young to know about certain things until he got older and dean had to keep that secret, but as shown in 3.08 flashbacks, most if not all of this is eventually revealed throughout their childhood when sam is still fairly young.

or possibly the dumbest one is that “wah sam doesn’t even know that dean reads books L” whenever that was he was also obviously joking because in more serious moments (e.g. 8.14) he admits that dean is smart/a better researcher than he is, literally remembers dean reading to him as a kid (8.21) so like. clam down

one of the extra annoying variants of this type of ‘proof’ covers things that are very clearly novel pieces of information about dean that dean, sam, and the audience are learning about dean in real time. like if you’re actually watching the show to comprehend it as it was intended to be comprehended, instead of funnelling everything through the Destiel Machine until it’s unrecognizable slop that fits neatly into your pre-ordained molds that Make Destiel Necessary In the Narrative (when it actually isn’t, at all) it’s abundantly clear. the top two worst offenders:

“sam didn’t even know that dean is good with kids :( he doesn’t even realize that dean raised him :(” first of all you people need to understand that parentification does not literally create a parent-child dynamic between siblings but I digress – this doesn’t make any sense bro. in 1.03 dean admits he doesn’t know any kids as an adult. dean being good with his own kid brother when they were both kids is to any reasonable person not necessarily linked with him being good with other random kids when he’s an adult. in 1.03 it’s clear that dean himself is a bit surprised that he’s able to connect w/ lucas so well because he’s clearly not dealt with a lot of kids since sam grew up. the whole point of this is that dean, sam, and the audience are all sort of seeing a new side of dean. who again is just 26. after this very early episode, there’s no question from sam that dean is able to connect w kids. sam being a bit surprised by this also has absolutely zero connection with him not understanding or realizing that dean looked out for him when they were both kids – sam is standing there at 22 years of age talking about adult dean and children �� of fucking course he doesn’t mean himself are you stupid.

from the very first season, sam is very clearly aware of everything dean ~did for him~ when they were kids, see e.g. 1.21: “Dean...ah...I wanna thank you. […] For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And I don't know, I just wanted to let you know, just in case.”

and 1.06: DEAN: Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way. (SAM laughs.) SAM: Yeah, I know you are.

and then possibly even more stupidly, the one where it’s like “wah sam doesn’t even know dean can cook :( he doesn’t even know that DEAN was the one making him food as a babe in arms :(” – when sam is surprised that dean made something fairly gourmet and from scratch literally the first time they have ever had a permanent living space with a functional kitchen. in this VERY scene (8.14), dean himself points out that they haven’t had a kitchen before and when sam remarks on the irregularity of him doing serious cooking, he says “I’m nesting”, clearly showing that this is a novel development because they now have a kitchen, and that it’s irregular relative to past behaviour – both of them acknowledge this. because real proper in-depth cooking and making box mac and cheese for sam until he was like 11 and old enough to be left alone are two different things, which sam understands because he’s smart, unlike whoever chooses to make this point. dean never showed significant signs of liking to cook before this, which is what the exchange is about, but he did have to prepare food for them both when sam was too young – of course sam knows he had to, there are childhood memories referred to (e.g. 14.11) where sam is mentioned to literally help dean do the cooking as kids lol (and yes, genius, sam says ‘I didn’t know you knew what a kitchen was’ or something to that effect, but if you think he’s being 100% literal there I have an oceanfront property in Kansas to sell you)

again, obviously there are pieces that sam doesn’t know about dean, e.g. when he’s talking about his response to mary dying in 1.03. but again, Sam is 22, dean is 26, the last time they were in regular contact was when sam was 18-20, these are things that happen when people grow up, they’re able to reflect and share on childhood experiences if they’re close with their siblings as adults. it’s clearly not something that 26 y/o dean wanted to hide from 22 y/o sam. yes sam didn’t know everything about how dean felt when they were young, but that’s equally true in the other direction, and it’s such an irrelevant point in this discussion when, crucially, sam does learn these things about dean mostly fairly early on in the series (i.e. when they’re really not that deep into adulthood yet). cas was also not magically blessed w/ knowledge about dean, he also had to learn whatever it is that he knows, but somehow sam has to know everything about dean from age 7 or it doesn’t count when it’s sam lol.

“sam doesn’t know the One True Dean / doesn’t see through his facades”

the next branch of defending this flawed thesis is invariably that sam has little idea of the fronts and facades that dean puts up and is content to just believe them, whereas cas digs deep and sees the One True Dean that stupid sam always misses. there is nothing in the text that demonstrates this is true. multiple times, we see sam being very knowing of the fact that dean puts up fronts and facades. sam is also knowledgeable of the way dean perceives himself, and – demonstrated in multiple episodes before such sam lines were very poorly recycled and regurgitated into cas’s dialogue in 15.18, but keep acting like that was the first time anyone ever showed that they knew the One True Dean.

Obviously there are times where sam teases dean when he’s being more touchy-feely than usual, but 9.99 times out of 10 (as a conservative estimate in case there's something i'm forgetting otherwise i would say every time) that’s very clearly coming from a place of knowing the real dean vs. the façade he puts up because that’s the whole joke. and it’s allowed to be a joke because they’re siblings and that’s what siblings do lol. esp since sam and dean have touchy feely moments at the end of like every episode.

examples of all of the above off the top of my head (there are more than these, but these are the ones I can think of):

2.02 (about John’s death)

Sam: “I mean this ‘strong silent’ thing of yours, it's crap. […] I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.”

Dean: “You know what, back off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to.”

Sam: “No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay.”

2.03 (Sam to Dean, also about John’s death): “You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it. Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory.”

Note that Dean essentially admits that Sam is right in these two instances in 2.04 bc I know yall have stupid shit to say about john too that has nothing to do with how anyone actually felt about him in canon

3.07 (about Dean’s demon deal – also proven true in later episodes)

SAM: Dude, drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.

DEAN: I'm not!

SAM: You're lying. And you may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.

DEAN: You got no idea what you're talking about.

SAM: Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked.

DEAN: And how do you know that?

SAM: Because I know you! […] Yeah, I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean, I can't blame you. It's just […] I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. 'Cause... (can't find words; tears in his eyes) just 'cause.

5.18 [Sam figures out what Dean is doing re: his plan to let Michael possess him, tracks him down, and eventually is the catalyst for Dean ‘making the right call’, which he predicts] – e.g.:

SAM: No, you won’t. When push shoves, you’ll make the right call

DEAN: You know, if tables were turned…I’d let you rot in here. Hell, I have let you rot in here.

SAM: Yeah, well…I guess I’m not that smart.

DEAN: I—I don’t get it. Sam, why are you doing this?

SAM: Because… you’re still my big brother.

8.14 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18 + sam intrinsically understanding the trials are a death wish for dean): “I'm closing the gates. It's a suicide mission for you. I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it. […] I AM smart, and so are you. You're not a grunt, Dean. You're a genius – when it comes to lore, to – you're the best damn hunter I have ever seen – better than me, better than dad. I believe in you, Dean. So, please – please believe in me, too.”

10.22 (understanding how much dean has ~done for him~)

SAM: I'm saving my brother.

CASTIEL: You told Dean—

SAM: —I know what I told Dean. Cas, look. I've been the one out there, messed up and scared. And alone. And Dean—

CASTIEL: He did whatever he could to save you.

SAM: Yes. I mean, it's become his thing. I owe him this. I owe him everything.

10.23 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18, x2 – from Sam to Dean): “You were also willing to summon death to make sure you could never do any more harm. You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you. That's not evil, Dean. That's not an evil man. That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way. […] You will never, ever hear me say that you -- the real you -- is anything but good.”

11.13 (Sam understanding exactly how Dean feels about Amara being his ‘deepest desire’, and confirming that it doesn’t make him a bad person)

Dean: Why? Because if she is that means that I’m…

Sam: Means you’re what? Complicit? Weak? Evil?

Dean: For starters, yeah.

Sam: Dean. Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She’s the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you…I’m not.

Dean: You know that I want her ass dead.

Sam: Yes. Of course. And I know you’ve also probably beaten yourself up a hundred times over it, but where has that gotten us? (Long silence) Just how bad is it?

13.02 (Sam perfectly explaining Dean’s psyche to Jack)

JACK: Is that why Dean hates me?

SAM: Dean doesn’t hate you. It… Look, sometimes the wires in Dean’s head get crossed and—and he gets frustrated, and then he mixes frustration with anger, and—and fear.

JACK: Why would he be afraid?

SAM: Because Dean feels like it’s his job to protect everyone. And right now, we need to protect you. But we may also need to protect people from you.

14.03 [Sam assesses Dean’s psychological/emotional response to the Michael possession; end of episode, Dean confirms that Sam’s assessment was fully accurate]

14.10 [Sam is the only one able to snap Dean out of his weird Michael mind loop by using their code word]

14.11 [Sam figuring out that something is troubling Dean just based on the fact that Dean hugs him]

15.17 (self explanatory at this point)

DEAN: Chuck has to die. He has to! Otherwise he'll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can't live like that, man! I can't live like that! I won't!

SAM: I know you feel like that right now, okay. I know you do. But you gotta trust me. My entire life, you've protected me— from Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn't always like it, you know, but... it's the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It's the only thing I've ever known that was true. So please... put the gun away. Just put it away, and we'll figure it out, Dean, we'll find another way, you and me. We always do.

like maybe there are some cas moments w dean along these lines too. i don't know, i don't remember what the guy says or does anymore it's been too many years and he is not memorable. but the point is where and in what capacity and based on what metric other than the amount of bad fanfic you've read does cas exceed sam in these respects.

so basically just. genuinely, what are you people literally ever talking about. go watch the show instead of saying stupid wrong stuff about sam on the hellsites all day. or watch another show (please for the love of god watch any other show this one is absolutely lost on you and it’s such a stupid one too i'm embarrassed for you)

#sorry i wasnt gonna be able to sleep otherwise my blood pressure got too high #sam winchester meta #sam winchester #anti destiel #sam and dean #whatever else my tags are #haven't done this in a minute #i'm sorry for being a cunty sam stan (tm) in this but have you considered we'd be nicer if you ppl were less dumb #this is not proofread it's not real meta

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mixelation · 4 months

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reborn au, tori POV. lead up to a mysterious ANBU social lmao

“Wait,” Tori said, sitting up from where she’d sprawled out on the picnic blanket. “ANBU parties are real?”

“They’re boring,” Itachi told her, not even looking back at her as he made another throw with a kunai. He tossed a second one at it to redirect it at a new angle that would have been otherwise impossible to throw it at. As usual, he hit the bullseye. The target was shoved into the hollow of tree and angled downward; it was an impressive shot.

“This one will be fun,” Shisui promised. “I told you. I’ll be there.”

Itachi tilted his head back, considering.

“I want to go,” Tori said, now sitting up fully. She thought “exclusive ANBU parties” were like… dumb rumors for people who desperately wanted ANBU to be cool. She was shocked this was a real thing ANBU actually did. But also, now that she was forced to accept they were real, she bet they were indeed incredibly boring, or at least deeply weird. She had to see for herself.

“I’m not inviting you,” Shisui replied. “You’re not ANBU.”

“Itachi will invite me,” Tori decided. They went to social events as a couple now. That was kind of part of their whole deal.

Shisui rolled his eyes. “Itachi can’t invite you,” he said. “It’s an ANBU event, not an ANBU-and-friends event.”

“I don’t see who would stop me,” Itachi said, moving slightly to the left so he could try his throw from an even weirder angle. “A few non-ANBU seem to sneak in every time anyway.”

Shisui clicked his tongue.

“Why are you being such a killjoy?” Tori asked Shisui, annoyed. “You’re the one who crashed our date about this.”

“Date…?” Shisui said. “I showed up and Itachi was training and you were reading porn.”

“This is related to the porn,” Itachi said, throwing his kunai. This time he only hit the edge of the bullseye. He frowned.

“How is it…” Shisui started, then shook his head like he didn’t want to know. Itachi moved further away to make his throw even harder. “Anyway, my point is. It’ll be fun, even if Tori gets denied at the door.”

“I won’t be,” Tori said, dismissive. “They want Itachi there, right?”

Shisui’s lips thinned, but he did have a counter argument. Itachi was, to the confusion of everyone who knew him, considered sort of a big deal in most circles. Even though she was objectively correct. Tori found Shisui’s lack of argument disappointing. She already had “then I’ll convince Kakashi it would be funny, and then no force on this earth will be able to stop us” lined up and waiting. She loved pulling that one. It could make everyone from Shisui to the Hokage anxious in two seconds flat.

Itachi’s kunai finally missed.

“Here,” he said, finally turning to Tori. “This is an actual impossible shot.”

Tori hopped to her feet and stood where Itachi indicated. Then she chucked her kunai in the vague direction of the target. It sailed too low, then abruptly changed direction mid-air and slammed point-first into the target’s bullseye.

Shisui’s eyes widened.

“See?” Tori said to Itachi. “The ‘fuinjutsu can only guide a kunai as well as the wielder can throw it’ thing is fake news. Even a civilian could have done that.”

She’d had to mark up the target and her kunai with like five different seals each, which made this particular maneuver basically useless in actual combat, but the scene in the book had been about carnival tricks anyway. Also, the confused look on Shisui’s face was hilarious. She wasn’t going to explain to him what was going on.

Itachi, being a traitor, opened his mouth and immediately explained what was going on.

“It did start as a picnic,” Itachi concluded of his explanation of their “date.” Halfway through lunch, Itachi had objected to the passage of Icha Icha Tori had read out loud as an actually impossible kunai throw, even though Tori’s point was that you totally could make an impossible shot by carefully applied fuinjutsu.

If Shisui thought any of Itachi’s explanation was weird, he didn’t comment on it. This was basically the only thing Tori liked about Shisui: he could listen to Itachi’s insane comments and not even bat an eye.

Shisui stayed around a little longer, not even remotely ashamed that he’d crashed what was ostensibly a private moment. The weather was gorgeous, which was why they’d picked a picnic instead of something more public, and their spot along the river was good for swimming. Shisui pulled off his uniform and did a running jump into the river. Tori watched Itachi stiffen as he hit the water and then relax when his head appeared again, alive and well and laughing.

“You should go in too,” Tori told him. “I’ll be there in a second. I want to finish this chapter.”

They abandoned the river when a group of screaming Academy students showed up. Tori toweled dry, pondering if it would look weird if she invited Deidara to come back later that day.

“Don’t you need to be practicing your aim more?” Itachi asked her while he gathered up their kunai. “Not just making elaborate seals to cheat?”

Tori blanched. “You don’t have to bring that up now,” she said. Not in front of Shisui.

“What’s wrong with your aim?” Shisui asked, teasing. “Is it actually bad, or have you accidentally fallen victim to the Itachi-adjusted rating system?”

“Please,” Tori replied. “We were genin together. Itachi hasn’t shut up about my aim since I was twelve. I’m fine; he’s just insane.”

“She has a missive from the Hokage,” Itachi said blandly.

“Itachi,” Tori hissed.

“Really?” Shisui asked. “Huh. How’d that happen?”

It wasn’t uncommon to get an official assignment from the Hokage’s office to foster a specific skill to benefit the village. But usually it was something unique: training a bloodline limit, developing a combat style that was rare or specially valuable, practice with an unusual weapon, stuff like that. “Practice with kunai” was a very weird thing to get a Hokage-level missive for; it was more like something a captain would tell a subordinate.

Also, given that Tori was a Special Jounin, it was an embarrassing thing to pitch as a skill she had to work on. That was the type of order you gave to a new genin, or a chunin that’d spent too many days doing desk work.

Her kunai skills were perfectly on par for her rank, thank you very much. It was just that Itachi was a freaky genius whose favorite hobby was doing trickshots, and his standards were insane. Minato just wanted her to push herself from good to exceptional, not just with standard kunai but with specialized ones, because she was learning Hiraishin and he wanted her to be able to use it the way he did.

Tori wasn’t sure she was going to just copy him, once she had the actual jutsu mastered. It didn’t really feel like her style. But then again, she almost never thought about how to apply her research and jutsu to combat until she was actively staring a threat in the face, and being able to slap a seal onto a kunai and throw it wherever she wanted was undeniably a vital skill. She would do the extra practice without complaint.

But Itachi didn’t have to run his mouth about it!

They walked back to the village proper together, taking the windy foot trail rather than hopping into the trees. A lazy day, indeed.

“I’m going to walk Tori home,” Itachi said once they hit the paved streets of Konoha. He very pointedly took Tori’s hand.

“Sure,” Shisui said. “See you tomorrow night?”

“He’ll be there,” Tori promised.

Shisui, she would begrudgingly admit, was an extremely charismatic and friendly guy that most people fell in love with on sight. But, in her experience, most ANBU she’d meet were anti-social weirdos with personalities like burnt toast. She absolutely needed to see what their weird-ass parties were like. For science.

Itachi dropped her hand the second Shisui was out of sight. It wasn’t that they didn’t like each other; it was just that neither of them really saw the point in hand-holding. Tori didn’t like how doing it for more than a couple minutes made her palm sweaty, and Itachi had more than once said something wild like, We would mutually improve our defensive capabilities with both hands free.

Plenty of couples didn’t hold hands, Tori was sure. It was just very important to Itachi to be carrying a metaphorical sign that said, I AM TAKEN. DO NOT APPROACH.

“It would be convenient if you did get denied at the door,” Itachi said conversationally. “Then we could leave. If we did it together, we’d seem united without doing any real work.”

“But I want to go,” Tori said. “I want to study your little ANBU guys under a microscope, like a petri dish of amoebas.”

“Don’t tell them that,” Itachi said, a tiny little smile cracking over his face.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you special treatment,” Tori said. “I’d tag my Itachi-amoeba with red fluorescent protein.”

Itachi snorted with amusement.

#my writing #reborn au

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turnyptown · 14 days

Text

Celeb!Gojo x POC Reader

Satoru doesn't pay much attention to the things people say about him on social media. Not until they get his girlfriend involved.

a/n: celeb gojo prolly dont even manage his own account ughhh

(POC Reader!, suggestive dialogue, pet names {princess, love, babe, etc}, m4f)

You yawn, turning over to the empty spot beside you in the bed. Per usual, Satoru was making phone calls. He called his manager about his next events and interviews, simultaneously fighting allegations on twitter and instagram.

“Cancel the party for- What do you mean I’m trending? Excuse me?”

He frantically paced the halls, shouting yet still whispering so he wouldn’t wake his love. You heard the muffled rambling of his manager on the other line.

“It’s all about you and miss [F/N]. They have an image of you two entering coachella.” Satoru sighs at the clarification as he wraps up the conversation, eager to get back to you. He lets his head hang while his hands are on his hips. He couldn’t think of what to do.

It isn’t like he doesn’t want the world to know about you, he just doesn’t want you to receive any of the hate he gets on social media, especially by crazed fans who get upset at the thought of him with someone. You knew all this and still decided to fall in love with a celebrity.

I mean, who could blame you? He’s hot!

He paced more until he caught a glimpse of you sitting up from your shared bed. He stops abruptly and takes lazy steps towards you with a small frown.

“Morning, princess. Did y’sleep well?” He mumbles against your neck, peppering it with kisses and easing back into bed with you.

You rubs your eyes with a nod, leaning into his touch. His hands were soft, but cold against your skin. You yawn before stretching and putting your weight on him as you tilt against his chest.

“Ya haven’t slept that long since I fucked you to sleep-” His comment was cut off with a harsh smack in the face with his own pillow. “Ouch, babe. Love you, too.”

“Maybe don’t say things like that in my first ten minutes of consciousness.” You pout.

He gently tackles you to lie back down as he passes you your phone, watching you scroll on social media. You come across a fan edit of him before huffing and scrolling onto the next post.

Satoru reaches his hand out to scroll back up to the edit of himself. “What’s this? You make this or somethin’?”

You sigh before denying his inquiry, “No, Satoru, it’s an edit from one of your many fans.”

“Go to the comments, what are they saying?” He smiles, eager to receive the praise he gets on the daily from a bunch of strangers online.

You tap the comment section to open the pop-up and start to scroll through. He squints to read them and is taken aback by a few things.

“No lube, no… What the fuck? We aren’t stopping until- hold on, who is we?” Satoru gasps at the replies to a simple video of flashing lights and transitioning video clips of him. Is this really all it took to be talked about like a pornstar? He wasn’t sure how to feel.

A particular comment catches his eye.

‘guys chill yk he got a girl now’

‘when?!?! omg link??’

‘js search “satoru gojo girlfriend coachella” on youtube’

“Oh, way to keep a secret, Gojo is my idol underscore fifteen!” Satoru groans.

You continue scrolling through the replies which, to your surprise, are becoming less about your boyfriend and targeted towards you. And not in a good way.

Insult after slur and slur after insult, they were just going in on you.

‘that *** can khs, he dont deserve that thing’

‘Shes not even attractive bye’

You felt tears start to swell in your eyes, blinking them away as Satoru scanned the screen for some kind of joke. He frowned and stood up, dialing his manager again.

They exchange a few inaudible words from the other side of the bedroom door before he returns to your company and smiles widely.

“What’re you up to, Satoru?”

He doesn't reply, but instead sends you a tweet he made a moment ago.

He continues to grin as he sees your mood improve a bit, pulling you in closer. “Don’t worry about them. They’re jus’ mad cuz they probably don’t have the exotic gorgeousness you possess, baby.”

You smile but cringe a bit internally, “Never say exotic again.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #celebrity gojo au #jujutsu kaisen x reader #he definitely can't text lmao #gojo x poc reader #gojo x black reader #gojo x hispanic reader #gojo x latina reader #gojo x asian reader #turnyptown

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chilumi-shipper · 1 year

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My Favorite Girl (2)

Arataki Itto x Shrine Maiden!Fem!Reader

Summary: Part 2 of My Favorite Girl, you unexpectedly return, missing everything and everybody. You want to make things clear, does he still love you? And do you still love him?

Tags: Two lines with curses, Bullying in work place, Angst to Fluff

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Itto remained seated by the docks, similar to how his days ended the past month. The burning ache of your departure never left him, in fact, it has only gotten worse, your lack of presence making itself known to him and a certain mini-sized bull.

Two months.

You've been gone two months, double the time you said you were gonna spend on Watatsumi Island. All his prayers to see a boat containing you had been ignored, much like the letters he sent to you while you were gone.

"Hey, babe! How's the job treating you?"

"I know you'll ace this job like you always do! What is it that Shrine Maidens do specifically that they have to switch locations? Well anyway, you'll do so good, you probably won't even need a full month to finish the job."

"Looooveee, don't let Ushi warm your side of the bed for too long, okay? His sleep moos are kinda annoying, ya know? Ohh, crap! He caught me writing you a letter!" This particular letter had a bite mark and a hoof print of the sleep moo-er.

"So... I don't know how to start this up without sounding like a total jerk, but... Well, first I wanna say happy birthday! Very very late happy birthday..." This letter was quite long, yet it received no reaction.

"You haven't returned any of my letters yet, which is totally okay if you're too busy! But I just wanna know if you're okay... I really miss you, Ushi misses you, the gang too! It been a little bit over a month, waiting for you~ I love youu." This letter was signed by each member of the Arataki Gang, each with their own little message.

A few letters of concern goes by, no response.

"It's been two months, my darling... When are you coming back home?" He wrote this one drunk and in tears, the feeling of missing you sinking deeper and deeper into his gut, not letting him shrug off the feeling like he did before.

"Boss! Look what I found in your mail!" The loud shout of Akira irritated the many people at the docks of Ritou, but it did its job of catching the oni's attention.

Itto turned to see the gang running up yo him. "Hey! You can't just go through my mail like that! What if you accidentally open ones for Y/N? She'd kill ya!"

"Yeah, I know, boss. But I actually got this from the mail delivery before it reached your house, sooo... this isn't your mail yet..." Akira remarked, proudly showing off his loophole.

Kuki Shinobu rolled her eyes before urging him, "Go on then, show him."

The Akira, Mamoru, and Genta excitedly showed Itto the letter in Akira's hands. "From Miss Y/N herself! Ohhh, is our Honorary Maiden about to return? We must rejoice!" Genta exclaimed, hyping up the other members too. Ushi himself couldn't keep his little body from jumping in joy.

"Looks like we don't have to go to Watatsumi for a grand Arataki rescue mission."

"Yeah, hmmm... I was kinda excited about that though."

"Now, hold on..." Shinobu broke their thrilled conversation. "We haven't even read the letter."

"Shinobu's right. Maybe... she just wants to say there's nothing to worry about, and she'll be staying there longer..." The hopeless voice coming from the oni, perhaps preparing for dissapointment, didn't go unnoticed. The gang noticed the change in attitude their leader has been having a few weeks after you left, getting worse with each passing day without you.

"Aww, boss, don't be like that! I'm sure Miss Y/N's had enough of Watatsumi now, she's probably preparing to head home right now." Mamoru attempted to comfort his boss, but Itto has told himself the same so many times that he feels like he can no longer hold the statement in a high regard.

Ushi softly pushed Itto's ankle with his hoof, urging him to open the letter.

"I apologize, my dear. This letter may be long overdue, but I want to let you know that I am doing just fine, there is nothing to worry about. I will be returning in just a short while, I trust that Ushi has kept my side of the bed warm for me, hehehe. To the Arataki Gang, I missed you all as well, I look forward to seeing you. And as for my beloved, Itto, let's talk once I'm there."

"She's really coming back home!" Everyone celebrated, but Itto's mind started spinning.

The most terrifying words... "Let's talk..." without a hint of emotion.

He looked at the letter once again...

Not even an I love you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Itto didn't expect the "returning in just a short while" to be just a few hours after he received the letter.

But when he found the door of your shared home open, you were standing visibly inside with your luggage laying on the ground, he could only stand in shock.

He has been dreaming of your return for the past month, but he hasn't exactly thought about how he was gonna greet you, he wasn't even sure whether you were still upset about how he treated you then.

"Y/N..." He whispered the name of the love of his life into the air, being loud enough to just about graze your ears.

You turned to look at him, and immediately, your heart fluttered at the sight. The ever so idiotically dashing man you think is still yours. Your heart sunk at the thought, opting to smile at him instead.

"Itto... Am I still welcome here?" There's a pain constantly in your chest when you think of him. Is his home still your home? Have you been thoroughly replaced? Did you absence spark something between him and a certain ninja you know?

"What are you-" The oni started of confused. "Of course you're welcome here! This is your home, did you think Ushi clamed your ownership entirely? He only took up the bed, but that's it, really." You giggled at his remark, finding it easy to talk to him still.

"It's just that you probably didn't expect me to come back now. My letter was pretty late, as I've heard." You reasoned as you look around, seeing that practically nothing has changed from when you left.

"Well, you wanted to talk, so let's save that for later, why don't we?" Itto picked up all of your luggage, reminding you of his pride of not making two trips just to transport something, prompting you to smile as you nodded at his suggestion.

Your smile lit up the house he found so lonely while you were gone, so naturally, he noticed you smiling at him, and it brought a light feeling to his heart. "What? Missed your strong oni carrying everything for you?"

Your oni... Is he really?

Your smile faded a bit, but you made sure to catch yourself so he wouldn't notice, "Yeahh, I really did..."

...

"So you're the maiden from Narukami right? The one in love with an oni?" You caught the condecending tone of another Shrine Maiden as she spoke to you.

You decided to ignore the way she spoke to you. "Yes, that's right! How can I be of assistance?"

"Mind throwing this to the garbage, just some useless junk mail." She placed a sizable amount of crumbled and shredded paper onto your hands. "Thanks." After giving you the most ungrateful thanks, she walked away giggling with her friend.

You merely sighed, heading for the trash can, pouring the paper in the bin. Just as you were about to walk away, you noticed something on the paper... Ushi's signiture hoof print.

With a gasp, you grabbed it and read the letter that was at such a sorry state. The letter was light hearted, yet when you read it, you almost broke down right next to the garbage. You scooped up the rest of the paper you just threw away and hurriedly ran back to your quarters. Most of the letters are in pieces, but you still needed to see what they say.

After two months in Watatsumi, you only received their letters then.

...

You're finally back home, the suffocating air the Watatsumi Shrine Maidens breathe no longer in your lungs. You took another look of the house as Itto carried your things into your shared room.

In a tired manner, you sat down on the couch, and Ushi immediately took a seat next to you. "Hello, my little bull..." You cooed affectionately, patting his head, which he all responded to positively.

Everything is where it should be... so normal and so familiar.

"Darling! I have a surprise for you! I almost forgot since, ya know, you came unex-" Itto's excited voice and enthusiastic movements halted when he saw you sitting down on the couch. "Y/N...?"

Your head was down, small sobs came from your throat, and he can tell that you're trying yo hold them in. You curled up into a ball, sobs getting louader as you can no longer hold such a pain in your heart.

"Itto, please... I need you..." At your call, the oni dropped his gift to the ground and hurried to your side before pulling you to his chest. "Let me stay here..."

"Love, it's okay... I'm right here. And you can stay right here too." He kissed the top of your head, rubbing you shoulder to calm you down.

"Don't leave me all alone. Do-Don't forget about me..." You were begging, clinging onto him. Hoping he wouldn't walk out the door without a thought.

You wrapped your arms around him, sitting on his lap before burrying your face on his neck. The concerned oni didn't completely understand, but he understood that you needed him, so he's going to be there, he isn't leaving you alone in your home this time.

...

"Feeling better?" With a grin, Itto placed a cup of hot chocolate in front of you. The sight of you nodding left him feeling relieved.

"I'm right here, darling, alright?"

"Do you still love me?" The oni was shocked by the suddenness of your question. You looked at him, expecting an answer.

After composing himself, Itto stood in front of you at the dinner table, giving you the same look. "I fucking love you too much for you to start questioning my love."

"But you gave me a reason to... question it..." You pointed out sheepishly.

The man you love sighed, "I know, and I'm hoping... if you let me, I can make up for that..." He then proceeded to place a gift in front of you, right next to the hot chocolate.

"My very very late birthday present?" You gestured at the gift with a smile.

You felt in your heart that... you should trust his words, to let him prove his love. So you will.

"So you did receive my letters..." He teased right back.

"It's a long story..." You sighed, looking at the present in front of you.

"And I'll be hapy to hear it, love. Because I will always be here." Itto walked up to you and proceeded to wipe the lone tear that fell from your eye.

You stood up and jumped at him, hugging him immediately. "I'm really sorry, Itto... I shouldn't have left."

Tears yet again fell to your cheeks, "But when you forgot about my birthday, about our special day... about me..." You recalled the many nights you spent without him by your side.

"It made me... questionn your love..."

The love of your life hugged you back, letting you lean on his chest. "Then let me ask you now... Do you still love me?"

You chuckled against him.

"I fucking love you too much for you to start questioning my love." He couldn't help but let out the biggest grin when you said that.

The oni let go of you, before bringing the gift to your attention. "Since you love me so much, you'll let me take you out on a date and wear this, right?"

As he opened the box, you saw a necklace with a pendant that in a shape of a bull... he knows you too well. Yes, this is the beautiful jade necklace, it is made out of jade, soooo...

You hear a moo at the your feet, making you look down. "Oh, and here comes Ushi." Itto bantered with the idea of him and the bull being competitors for your love.

Ushi presented to you a wilting flower, along with the purest eyes you can see on a bull.

"Ohh, my sweet darling, thank you so much!"

Itto scoffed, "He literally plucked it out of the neighbor's garden, he almost cried when he was being shouted at."

"Ahh, Ushi has faced such a great trial for this flower, I appreciate it even more."

As the two compete for your love just like old times, the hot chocolate on the table goes cold.

...

"Uh, Shinobu..." The boat of the rest of the Arataki Gang docked at Watasumi Island. "What are we doing here again?" Mamoru questioned the green haired girl.

"Apparently, there's a problem about receiving mail in the Sangonomiya Shrine, and that's why Miss Y/N took so long to get back home." Kuki Shinobu clarified. "Miss Yae asked us to take care of it. Think of this as part of the rescue mission you were talking about."

"Yeahh, alright! Let's kick some mail troblemakers butts!" Akira exclaimed.

"Yep, that's exactly what Miss Yae asked for. This is probably the only Shrine Maiden related thing I like, except for Miss Y/N, of course."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

After a year with no update...

I was done with a lot of things on my plate (thankfully) so I thought, why not pick up an old project :3

Thanks so much for everyone's patience, for waiting for part 2 of this story for such a long time, I appreciate you guys (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Tags: @l0diluvs @iiyumii @lockem @t4m3-simp @eliciana @freezombielover

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #genshin angst #arataki itto x reader #genshin impact itto

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corrupted-nightshade · 4 days

Text

List of things that point towards Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru being kissers of boys with connections to eachother

(If they did kiss though is another story)

Note: the list will be divided into different sections with space in between. So don't go speed scrolling through if you don't want spoilers. :"3

Some of these are less serious, but are still included because all the more content for these two sillies.

--- Last updated: April 26th, 2024 Note: Make sure to check the original post if viewing a reblog version in case Tumblr does not update things under the "read more" like it used to be able to.

Various

572. This number is used frequently as a ship number for the two as "GoGe" the ship name can also be produced as "GoNatsu". Go means 5 and the rest sound similar to 72. These numbers ironically show up accross the series a few times and also in official merch. (Some examples being a clock in season 2 episode 1 stopped at 5 hours 7 minutes 20 seconds or a Gojo teddy bear priced at ¥57,200)

JJK official fanbook

"Q: Please tell us his first impression when he first met Geto. A: Bangs."

"Q: He seems to be aware that he is handsome, but doesn't he want a lover? A: I can't imagine Gojo being faithful to a particular woman."

"Q: Is there anything you are particular about Geto's character design? A: Bangs"

One of Gojo's songs & one of Geto's songs given to them. "Shame on you" by "Avicii" (a break up song) for Gojo and "Come back Home" by "Two door cinema club" for Geto. Stated in volume 3 chapter 24.

The sheer amount of times Geto shows up in MMVs for Gojo and how they display the impact Geto had on Gojo (For example, the latest MMV for volume 26's release)

Their birthday's solar terms tying in with parts. (Geto being "Risshun" beginning of spring & Gojo being "Taisetsu" heavy snow.)

Rings for them that were released on August 8th, which is "Pairing day" in Japan

Jujutsu Kaisen 0

Geto's kesa is specifically a Gojo kesa

Gojo stating in 0 that

"I've always believed... ...Love manifests the most distorted curses." / "This is my personal theory, but there's no curse more twisted than love."

Even after 10 years, Gojo recognized Geto's smell. (The mall scene after Yuta & Toge fought the curse)

Geto renaming someone to "Sato" because

"That's what I've decided, so Sato is better."

This sunset scene

Gojo's veil is black & Geto's veil is white. Gojo's veil causes darkness, Geto's does not. [Peep who reminded me]

The song "This is pure love" not only plays over Yuta & Rika vs Geto, but also plays over Geto & Gojo's conversation

The way that Geto looks at Gojo & says his name, and how Gojo looks at Geto & says his name

Geto's blushing face at Gojo that we were robbed of in the anime

Some of the lines from the JJK 0 light novel lines

"Yet Gojo's bandage-covered eyes kept watching, kept following the shape of Geto's soul."

"But to Gojo Satoru, he was —— '————, ————' '...ha.' When he heard the words Gojo blurted out, Geto couldn't help but laugh. Such embarrassing [...] words. Even why they were students, those words had never been said before. 'You should've at least cursed me a little before the end.' December 24, 2017. The curse called Geto had been well and truly exorcised."

Season 1

JJK Juju stroll

"Q: What kind of person is your type?" Gojo: "[...]The one who seemed nice. With the notable bangs."

yes, i know who he stated but the way he answered was so half arsed as he struggled to come up with an answer as an example of his type. 💀

Season 2

Again, the way they look at each other and say each other's names (There's another picture with Gojo looking at Geto, but I'm missing it right now)

THE HECKIN GOJO & GETO VALENTINES CAKE??

They literally even have a themed honeymoon place???

Geto makes sure Gojo has his favorite soda. :3

Part 1 / volume 8 - 9

The intro for season 2 part 1

"Even after I got to know the smell of you, different from mine"

"In such a color as if it were a silent love"

"I've got a curse word for you stuck in the back of my throat"

The outro for season 2 part 1:

"Even trivial conversations are fine Show me your blushing face once more"

"It only exists here I want to touch you"

The fish in the outro

The flowers in the intro & outro. [Peep who reminded me]

The purple ones (Located on table in the part where older Gojo is sitting in a chair by a window) are possibly Primula/Primrose flowers. They can represent young love, beauty, desire, desperate, and can be a symbol of spring and renewal/new beginnings. etc.

The yellow ones (Located in the part where Gojo & Geto are sitting together with their hands & cans of soda surrounded by the flowers) are possibly osmanthus flowers. They can represent love, passion, happiness, beauty, etc.

[See here , here, here , here , here , here ]

Geto not answering Tsukumo Yuki's question of what kind of woman is his type more than once

When Geto is asked by Haibara if he would like a sweet or savory souvenir, Geto says

"Satoru will probably have some too, so maybe something sweet."

Part 2 / volume 11

This whole image (Geto in the glasses on the left, and Kenjaku's silhouette on Gojo's face on the right)

Season 2 part 2's "Specialz" intro hidden meaning

Despite the following about Geto's state, Geto's body still instinctively reacted to stop Kenjaku from hurting Gojo.

"Q: Fake Geto's arm was moving during the Shibuya Incident, but how much of Geto's consciousness remains in the body? A: Not much. He was moving like how a dragonfly whose neck was torn off can move."

Fun fact: Some owls pair/bond for life (Whether the owl is supposed to be Geto's because Kenjaku is using Geto at the time or it's not Geto's animal because that is Kenjaku is up to you)

Volume 26

The Camilla flowers with snow. Not only do they represent Gojo well with their meaning, including one meaning being unchanging/strong love alongside modest love / beauty for pink, but flowers are given to different dates. The birth flower of February is this flower, said to bloom on the 3rd of this month. Aka Geto's birthday.

Chapter 236

Gojo actively chose to fight on December 24th (a day considered romantic for Japan) which is now the day both Geto and him have died on. Even Kenjaku acknowledges the days significance with

"Ha ha! How romantic. Isn't it gross to make plans with each other on Christmas eve?"

These lines

Both Gojo & Geto's volumes' numbers can have bad meanings in Japan. 4 can mean death & 9 can mean to suffer/agony. (I put this under volume 26's section because of the spoiler)

---

There's likely more, but this is what we could think of right now. XD If you have anything you want to add on, feel free to send it my way because the more help the better & easier this is. (^w^ ) Same for any corrections to the list (as it's just me writing up this post and I may make slip ups)

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo #gojo satoru #geto #geto suguru #goge #satosugu #corrupted nightshade's talks

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seaofgoldensand · 22 days

Text

please, just stay a little longer. rafayel x reader (she/her) drabble

she would have reoccurring dreams of a sea god that saved her when she was meant to be a sacrificed to him. in the dream, she was fully aware of what was happening, as if she had lived in this time before. but as soon as she would wake up, she could not recall a thing, yet she was left with a feel of emptiness, like something was missing or she had lost something very important to her.

note: this is clearly self indulgent, and i just could not get this out of my head while it popped up as i kept listening to that unknown bgm in chapter 9, so it kept yelling at me until i wrote it. pieces of chapter 1 and little bit of pieces of chapter 9 in forbidden sea. not beta read, here is your warning. i am also very rusty, but i hope those that read this will enjoy it!

warning: angst, hurt with slight comfort i suppose? but hey, it's sfw.

it was the day of his ceremony, every lemurian gathered to witness the sea god and his beloved walk into the temple. fishes of all kinds swam about and round rafayel and his beloved follower.

upon the two entering the temple, everything became silent, save for the gentle sound of the water as she looked around before her eyes landed on her hand in rafayel’s. the way he held her hand as if it were the most delicate thing in all of the sea and land made her heart skip beats.

she closed her eyes, raised her other hand and rested it on her chest. she took a deep breath and spoke to herself.

i am willing to give him my heart.

i am willing to give him my sincerest form of worship.

i am willing to have his very being etched, engraved onto my soul as i praise and pray to him for the rest of my life.

she felt rafayel’s hand in hers, something hot began to intertwine and embed itself into her palm, it became a line and part of her soul.

then, panic rose as she opened her eyes.

“this is my promise to you.” rafayel spoke in the softest tone much like how soft his eyes looked into hers. “for ‘tis lemuria’s vow, a bond everlasting.”

“rafayel, wait—” she smiled nervously, her heart beating too fast for her own good. “why does it sound like…you’re saying farewell to me. please, i—”

rafayel stepped forward, lifted his arm and wrapped it around her waist, drawing her in closely like the gentle current of the sea, small blue fish began circling around them and one red one in particular seemingly settled on rafayel’s shoulder as a blue one settled on hers.

how foolish, even in the sea does her tears begin to build up. even as she was underwater with the god of the sea, she could not stop the tears from falling from her eyes.

“do not worry, i will not be gone for long.”

"you said that last time and the time after that, stop lying to me..."

still panicked, she immediately threw herself onto him, despite his protests from last time when they snuck out to see the sunset both under the sea and above. she did not care for what rafayel would do.

“hold me. push me away. i don't care, just—please, stay a little longer.” she begged with the weakest voice despite how much strength it took for her to tamp down this undeniable fear of being abandoned, almost etching itself right where the thread that sealed their bond remained. "can't we just stay like this for a moment more?"

rafayel stills, eyes wide and at first he did not move nor did he say anything. then, his eyes relaxed and there was a smile that etched upon his lips as he finally lifted his arms to wrap themselves around her, placing a gentle but fleeting kiss onto the top of her head.

“once a lemurian is bonded with a human, they cannot go against their wishes.” he reminded her of what the bond entailed, despite being the young god of the sea.

“then, stay. please, rafayel—don’t leave me.” she did not care how desperate she sounded because he thought of rafayel no longer being with her terrified her and her worst nightmare soon manifested itself as she heard rafayel’s chuckle.

“i will find you no matter where you are, we will meet again. but for now, it is time for you to wake up.”

“don’t lie to me! you always say this, every time, in this very moment and then i’m left waking up to an empty bed and something empty inside me that i can’t understand until i fall back asleep and pray to whatever deity will hear me to meet with you again. why… why can’t you stay any longer?!”

“shh. do you not trust me?”

she fell quiet, burying her face against his shoulder as the tears continued falling. “i do, but—”

“there is no but. you either trust me or you do not.” rafayel sighed quietly and cupped her face, his eyes spoke louder than the words he could offer her, yet he did not know if she felt his emotions. after all, he was not that good when it came to expressing something so intense he felt which was all because of her.

she only clung onto him tighter, refusing to wake up just to forget everything that had happened in her dream that felt so real. who is that man? where was she? why can she not recall his name?

rafayel gazed at her, knowing she was deep in thought and lifted his hand to brush away the tears, shaking his head gently. “what a shame, human tears do not turn into pretty pearls when they cry, yet i find yours the most precious in the entire sea.”

he leaned close to her ear, his fingers gently carding through her soft locks. “trust me and let me go, you will not have to wait any longer.”

she shook her head, hugging him even more tightly. “i don’t want to! i’m tired of never remembering you in my waking life. it’s not fair!”

“you have stayed here for far too long, do you not wish to see me in the waking life?”

“how long, rafayel? how long until i can meet you again, what if i cannot remember you?”

“it will sadden me, i will admit, however…that does not mean that i would give up on you. after all, i will chase you to the ends of the earth.”

rafayel’s words began to fade as her vision darkens and the whalefall city is turned into ruins just as the ancient civilization of lemuria was soon forgotten.

she shot up in her bed, breathing heavily and blinked before a gasp escaped her. her hand lifted as she brushed some tears away then rubbed at her eyes. normally, she would remain confused for a short moment before pulling herself together and return to her every day life.

this time, while she cannot remember anything, she placed her hand on her chest before she drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms, letting herself mourn.

what am i mourning for?

why does everything feel so empty?

why does it feel as i i’m crying about something lost?

what did i lose?

…who did i lose?

eventually, she was able to collect herself and prepare for the hunter ceremony. today was the day she would become an official deepspace hunter. once the day was coming to an end, tara waved goodbye before she was being dragged by a random young boy to help him with something.

with the fish net, she looked into the pool and furrowed her brows before she could attempt to swipe one into the net, someone interrupted her concentration.

“...but this one, bright as a flame, is a real flammula from lemurian legends.”

“flammula? i’m not very familiar with those myths or folklore.”

something in her chest tugged the moment he turned and walked away. something yelled inside her to go after him, but why? she was confused and something inside her felt disappointed as the figure gradually became smaller until he could not be seen any longer.

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bookns · 8 months

Note

babes i need some good percabeth fic rex’s preferably not spicy lol i need some nighttime reading material 😭😭😭

I GOT YOU oh my god I love this ask

the anatomy of a hurricane: barbarianprincess (all of their fics are amazing but this is my favorite)

Of Heists and Home Economics: chellethewriter

building memories on things not said: ahecen

it's human (you can lay your hands on me): riverv (literally all their fics) (I had this labeled in my notes "Can't read without crying - so lonely" ENJOY)

there's still color: mypetersburg

the annabeth project: pjoseries (divineauthor)

Meeting Percy and Annabeth: foreverfangirlwrites (She's pretty popular (her series A Rose By Any Name is really good) but for this fic is a comfort fic so if its not here I be pretty sad)(and her fic Into A Moment of Time - made me cry so bad. Like full on sobs with hiccups so read that too)

spread your wings and learn how to fly: roomtempcupofjoe (PRINCESS DIAIRES)

Eighteen Years a Hero: romanitas

graduating class: loveliet (all their fics are good but this one hits hard)

when the sun came up (you were looking at me): TheWritingManiac (if you liked Wendy Mass as a kid, this fic IS IT)

The Blood of Olympus: MariaClaire (just trust me)

I Would (Literally) Die For You: AverageCanadian (this author haunts me and made me cry to the point where I lost count so ENJOY)

What The High Tides May Bring: myshipsaresunk

A Mere Collection of Words: sunburst_city (WARNING: its not spice but it is implied - I didn't think it was too bad but if you want just skip this fic)

A Semester Abroad: ScienceFantasy93 (shits so good your gonna love Reyna)

Post Tenebras Lux: husborth (listen to Taylors swift You are In Love you'll thank me later)

Forever Cursed: RainySteve (sad. thats it. your warning is just the word sad. good luck solider)

etched on skin: unsureavenge (also check their fic End Of The Line I've spoken about it before and ohgod its just a masterpiece)

Here I Go Again!: percabethica (a Mamma Mia AU that I read before watching Mamma Mia - yeah that was an experience)

building memories on things not said: ahecen

Witnesses: Roselightfairy (I LOVE THIS ONE - comfort fic)

Won't Leave Any Doubt: maydayparade8123 (orphan_account)

We Only Want To Help: Believer1991

i wanna tell you, but i don't know how: polypanpercyjackson (thecuspofsomething)

gravity in the words we write: percyj

dates, demigods, and other divine disasters: fuwaaa

Rite of Passage: hanpersands (self plug; I have a fic just like this too if you like - link in my bio)

we made a lot of music dancing (you and i): vll8586

Arizona Sky: husborth

I Bet You Think Your Honey Tastes Like Sugar: Lex42069

and you knew what it was: aceofdiamonds

Surprise Baby: iannageorge

Late Night Rescues: IllusionsOfInsanity

The Library Book: unsureavenger ( I have no idea if I did them already but all their fics but THIS ONE in particular - literal chefs kiss)

just practice: knuffled (bigscary)

Save the Date: oreoz314

first i love u: RainySteve

take me to your best friend's house: mcpicktwo (I laugh at this one so much)

If We Have Each Other: jasonsmclean

Days Apart: likoricke (orphan_account)

you belong with me: scrxbbler

Fireworks: katebishoop

and of course, me, Bookns has Pjo fics (you know Can I Be Him but expect another fic in a day or two)

I know its a lot but I hope you like them. Some of these are my favorite and they are really close to my heart. I've only been in this fandom for about three years so there's a lot I missed but I think I read a lot for my own good. I recommend Taylor swift entire discoraphy but especially you are in love - Enjoy Darling

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madeholyy · 11 months

Text

chase the moon like fire ; leon kennedy / reader

and i'm just a stupid motherfucker, can't figure it out

[falling in love, brief mention of masturbation, slight sexual tension]

please consider supporting my ao3!

“So, you in love?” It’s a question, but the answer isn’t so simple. Ada’s voice is velvety smooth and articulate in the way she speaks. It used to send a shiver down his spine when he heard it, but now it only served as a haunting tune. He leveled his gaze with her; eyebrows furrowed with skepticism. Though in his head he was digging deep down into his memories attempting to pinpoint the truth to her inquiry. She has been watching them for some time during their mission. Ada was ever the observant type and always knew exactly how to read him no matter how guarded he was. Leon thought back— way back, in fact— to the first time he laid eyes on you. Circa 2003, partnered for an infiltration mission on a small lab in Italy that ex-Umbrella employees created to continue their research.

There was something daring in your smile, but your eyes were kind and warm. With all the experience of a federal agent, you were still a girl. There was a gentle sweet scent that followed you as you walked past him through the office and you were always excited to show him your nails even if there was a chance you’d have to remove them before a surprise mission. You were a witness to unimaginable horrors beyond your comprehension, but sunshine followed you in your wake regardless. All the pink, sparkly pens and cute animal charms on your bag were an effort to live in normalcy. You were overcompensating, but so was he in a way.

There was a particular late night in the office where he caught his first glimpse into the person truly you.

“What were you going to be before all this?” Leon narrowed his eyes towards you across his desk. Your head was being supported by your hands while you tilted your head awaiting his answer.

Leon’s attention reverted back to the paperwork on his desk, “Just a cop.”

“Just a cop, hm?” It was playful and syrupy; almost childish, yet endearing all the same. He feigned disinterest, but you didn’t miss the amused tinkle in his eyes.

“Don’t you have your own desk?” He inquired with his gaze still to his documents.

“Yeah, but we’re the only two people still in the office. I wanted company.” You leaned back in your seat, stretching out your shoulders with a few minor pops.

“Who’s to say I wanted company?” Leon looked up at you and you almost missed the smile ghosting his lips.

“Well, I thought about that, but I didn’t actually care.” You shrugged your shoulders and leaned forward once more to skim through your report. Leon took a moment to study your face. You weren’t exactly the kind of person he would’ve guessed was an agent. He had met many women in this line of work and you reminded him of a few. Chris at one point even mentioned how you had this gentle warmth to you that Rebecca also had. And there were stars in your eyes glimmering against the light of his desk lamp. He wondered how much you bottled up within you and the sheer weight you carried on your heart. He was much more hardened than you with skills outside of your own experience.

Leon signed, “What did you want to be?” He would play along.

Your face lit up, eyes perking up underneath dark lashes. His question was met with a moment of silence while you pondered over it.

“I wanted to be…” Her voice drifted off to somewhere far from them. She stared down at her pen, mindlessly clicking the tip in and out as she tapped the butt of his repeatedly against the surface of his desk. Then something unfamiliar to him. It was hardly noticeable and easy to dismiss, but he caught a hint of something melancholic flashing in her eyes. The sparkle in them he found comforting dulled the slightest bit. Your lips pursed in deep thought. You weren’t easy to read, actually, quite the opposite. Your cheerful demeanor was well crafted from years of hardship. He hadn’t taken note of it before but there was tension in your shoulders that always seemed to exist. Fidgeting was a usual occurrence for you as well and he caught you tapping your foot or messing with your earrings several times throughout the day. Coworkers remarked on how you seemed lost in the clouds with that dreamy expression glossing over your eyes, but he began to question the contents of said daydreams. He often found himself with the same look whenever he got lost in a fantasy of saving all that was lost those few years ago. All the things he would do differently, the things he didn’t do that he would in a heartbeat now. And it hit him like a train that you were just as haunted.

“You don’t have to answer.” It sounded a bit more timid than he intended, cracking into a sort of whisper towards the tail end of his sentence as if he was unsure that was the correct thing to say.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I wanted to do so many things, but I don’t think they were in my cards. Maybe…something with animals?” You leaned back once more and slapped your palms down onto the hardwood desk, “I’d take barista over this, too, though.”

His response was awkward and lacklust in emotion with a simple hum of acknowledgement. Your cheeks were lightly dusted pink which he figured was probably because it was a little warm in the office. But, you also revoked eye contact and focused on anything but his face.

“Didn’t plan your future? Thought girls loved that stuff.” He huffed a minor laugh, getting back to writing his report. It was just an update on his current case before he would be sent to the field for investigation. This portion required some work with Hunnigan and recanting all she’d relay to him.

“What a weird thing to say…” You murmured, “I just didn’t plan further than eighteen.”

His gaze lifted to your face and there was a brief dark look in your eyes. It was as quick as lightning, flashing in and out before he even had time to register it. Leon did not know whether to ask you to elaborate or leave it be. You didn’t give him a chance before you stood up with your own paperwork stuffed snug in a manila folder. Your voice filled the silence once more before you slipped out his doorway, “Girls love a lot of things, Leon. But none of it is universal.”

Then you disappeared in the dark corridor. Usually his strange, oddly forward comments were ignored. He wouldn’t even register anything he said as strange until after by someone else. Maybe that had become one of his favorite things about you; the way you voiced your distaste for his dumb little jokes and awkward assumptions. It wasn’t malicious, it was amusing to you, too, but you weren’t afraid. His status didn’t intimidate you. Nothing about him made you uneasy. You just thought he was weird and he liked it.

“That’s the way you wanna end our conversation, Ada?” He dodged answering with ease, but Ada’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. He couldn’t hide the truth from her. The mere mention of your name lit a flame behind his eyes that she had thought long snuffed out. It was the same flame he used to admire her with back in Raccoon City. Underneath that hardened facade was the same young man she encountered beneath the RPD. The years had changed them, but not significantly. She was ever married to her job and he will always be full of light and love despite it all.

“I’m only being friendly, no need to be defensive. Though, it does say more about you than me.” Her smirk was slight, barely there, but Leon tensed the slightest bit. She walked until her back was turned to him, facing the window while she pulled out her grappling hook.

“She gave me that same look.” Was the last thing she said before she disappeared above, leaving the curtains flapping in the winds behind her. Leon picked up his gun and studied it, but his mind was elsewhere.

“Leon.”

He jumped, turning his head slightly to look at you, “Thought you’d be here.”

You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Leon admired the maroon slip dress you adorned and paired with black ankle strap block heels. Your hair was delicately styled just as he expected with beautiful hoop earrings hanging by your lobes. He turned to look out the balcony with a glass of whiskey on ice in his hand. You joined him by the railing leaning against it and admiring the way the stars painted the sky. The moon was nowhere to be found and awaiting its bloomage that would soon begin once more. Leon glanced at your hands— coffin shaped nails with an elegant floral design and matte finish. He had thoughts about them before, how they’d feel running down his back and scratching his scalp. They’d creep up on him most nights after bidding you farewell. He was quick to shake them away, but here they were enticing him once more.

“And I didn’t think I’d see you here. Don’t seem like a banquet type of guy.” Which you were correct. He nearly skipped out this evening, but then he overheard your excited chatter about an evening dressed out and seeing your workplace friends. It was a calculated move on gaining your attention for the night. Something he craved frequently from you; more frequently than he was comfortable with. Leon knew why, but he refused admittance.

“Eh, I was asked which basically means it’s an expectation.” Technically not a lie, but he did have a choice. That choice was just null when he learned of your attendance.

“Wow, must be rough being the President’s favorite.” You giggled, a sound which caused his heart to leap. It was an enchanting melody he wished to relive over and over again if possible.

“You have no idea…” Leon tipped his cup to his lips, taking a sip from his beverage.

“Leon, you look tired.” You quipped, turning your body slightly to face him. He nearly choked on his drink at your sudden statement.

“I look like this all the time.” He scoffed, nodding his drink in your direction.

You roll your eyes and press your lips into a firm line, “Even worse than usual. Have you been sleeping?”

He was still. It was coming up to the anniversary of the Raccoon City incident and many of his recent nights were sleepless. Sleepless nights meant he had room to think then overnight then silently seethe. The anger he held towards himself was impalpable. Some evenings he couldn’t decide if he should punch his wall or quietly weep into his pillow. Then there were nights where he just wanted his mind off it all. He wanted some moments of peace and images of you crossed his brain. Some sultry, some average. All brought him to a climax where his head turned to mush.

“I don’t get much this time of year. Must be the weather.” He mumbled, sipping his whiskey again.

You tilt your head slightly with furrowed brows. He didn’t want to look at you because if he did he would kiss you if it meant you stopped looking at him the way you were. Looking at him like he was worth more than his failures, like he deserved more. It would cause his chest to ache and his knees to go weak. He’d have to capture your lips in his, but that was a risk. A risk that led to a risk. It was all too much. However, in his peripherals, you held your eyes on him. He could make out the way the balcony wall lamp reflected light off your glossy lips; the iridescent shimmer sparkling against warm tones. And your lashes, oh your lashes, dark and long with fluttering like butterfly wings with every blink. They highlighted your eyes, creating an alluring appeal to them. You were breathtaking in ways words could not describe. Aphrodite had blessed you, surely.

“Yeah, the weather.” Was your only response as you looked away from him and gazed down at the neatly trimmed garden hedges below. He wanted you to look at him again, but that’d be yet another risk. One he wasn’t prepared of the consequences for still. Perhaps the moon hid tonight because her beauty could not compare to yours. She shied behind Earth’s shadow because there was no competition to be had. You outshined all the stars in the sky with a glimpse of your goddesshood. His fingertips itched to caress the supple flesh of your rosy cheeks. Leon wished to place soft kisses along your neck and hear the sighs which you emanate from your throat.

But he didn’t. You both remain on the balcony in a comfortable silence. That night, Leon had to admit something he wasn’t ready to. The glaringly obvious truth he wanted not a single soul to unveil. It was a secret of his own, one he held near and dear to his heart.

“You never answered my question.” Ada glanced back at him expectantly. If it were not for her firm, booming voice above the helicopter, he would have easily missed it. Leon found himself voiceless once more, but only for a mere moment. He watched her study him and he knew there was no use denying it any longer. So, you in love?

He wanted to laugh. Of course she would be the one to call him out for it. Ada was nothing but skilled in the art of deduction. His thoughts briefly flashback to Ashley. You had probably gone up to meet her already to check on her wellbeing. Then he turned his attention back to the topic at hand. She didn’t want to have to guess, she wanted to hear it.

“More than I’d like to admit.” He called out, stepping back slightly in preparation for his trek back to his two companions. Ada’s expression was unmoving and unreadable. She simply held eye contact for a few seconds before making her way to her escape. He didn’t say it, but she heard it under his tone. And I’m scared.

#leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil oneshot #leon kennedy fanfic #my works

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concreteangel92 · 2 months

Text

Vampire Gloves

Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: vampire gloves, sensation play, oral (female receiving) dom/sub relationship. I’m pretty certain that’s it but let me know if I’ve missed anything.

A/N: I had a really nice interest in this so I’ve finally got it finished. Vampires gloves are a particular favourite of mine, honestly give them a try if you haven’t! I’ve never gone back haha 😂 the feeling is very hard to describe so I hope I’ve done it well and yeah, every time I see Noah wearing his glove, this is what goes through my mind 🥵 I’ll put a photo of what they look like underneath so you have a better idea before reading if you’re new to them. And as always, I really hope you enjoy!!

“Do they hurt?”

Noah pulled the vampire gloves on, flexing his hands to stretch out the leather.

“Only if I want them to. Now face down, ass up”

You complied with his orders, Noah watching you like you were the prey and him the predator.

“Now it may feel scratchy at first but you’ll get used to the feeling, I’ll start off gently and then we can work our way up. If you want to stop then just say your safe word”

“I will, I’ll be fine”

You then felt the small metal spikes on your left ankle and he ran his hand gently up the back of your leg, the feeling of the spikes was scratchy and made you shiver.

“How does that feel?”

“It tickles”

Noah hummed and then applied more pressure as he ran the glove over your thigh, this time a small gasp escaped your lips as the tickling sensation had become almost euphoric. The tacks dragged along your skin in the most beautiful way, no doubt leaving white lines across your flesh.

You’d never felt a sensation like it and you knew this was only the beginning.

Noah ran the glove across your left cheek and over to your right, you shut your eyes as you let the feeling wash over you. Noah then squeezed his hand so the spikes dug in slightly which made you gasp.

He then ran it down your right leg, a slightly lighter pressure but applied more on the way back up.

The feeling was incredible, your whole body felt alight and tingly, your breathing was becoming much faster, wetness was forming in between your legs and your thighs were starting to shake very gently due to his actions.

“How you feeling baby?”

“Amazing”

Noah ran a spiked finger over your centre very gently and you couldn’t stop the moan that fell out of your mouth.

“On your back for me”

You rolled over and saw Noah’s pupils blown wide, a clear sign he was loving this as much as you were.

Noah brought his hand up to your throat, again giving a gentle squeeze before trailing down to your breasts, you shut you eyes as he ran his fingers around, cupping them before running his finger over your nipple which made you jump due to how sharp it felt, sharp but most definitely enjoyable.

“Too much?”

Noah had a very small smirk on his lips.

“No”

“That’s my girl”

Noah ran his hands down your stomach and onto your inner thighs which caused your back to arch off the bed and a whine to escape, you wasn’t sure what you needed at this moment but you knew Noah would.

His hands ran up and down your inner thighs with a fair amount of pressure, the spikes digging in deliciously, your thighs once again started to shake and close in on each other which Noah wouldn’t allow and kept his other hand on one thigh to keep you spread for him.

Noah ran his fingers up your thighs and onto your pussy, carefully using two fingers up the sides of your folds. It was intoxicating, the sharpness of the spikes on your most sensitive area was bliss, he moved his finger to your clit and pushed down enough so you felt the tacks dig in.

“Fuck…Noah”

You were struggling to stay still, you needed more, the pain mixed with the euphoria that these gloves gave you was like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, every nerve in your body felt alive.

Noah then delivered a firm spank onto your pussy which made you cry out.

“Oh my god…..Noah please”

You were desperate now for more, all these sensations had brought your body to such a high that you didn’t know what to do with yourself anymore.

Noah lightly ran his hands over your thighs again.

“What do you need baby?”

“You, please, I need you”

“I’m all yours angel”

Noah settled himself in between your legs, still wearing the gloves and held your thighs apart, the tacks no doubt leaving red marks in your skin. He stared at you like you were a work of art, mouth watering at the sight.

He licked one firm strip up your centre and gave your clit a gentle kiss, still only teasing you, you felt the gloves work back and forth over the sides of your thighs and hips, the sensation only adding to what he was doing.

You raised your hips slightly, desperately trying to grind into him, Noah brought one hand up to your stomach to push down, and he then attached his mouth to your clit and sucked hard, he went down and groaned when he finally tasted you properly, the vibrations mixed with the gloves on your skin sent your head spinning.

Noah quickly removed one glove from his hand and not a second later he had one finger inserted inside you, starting a quick rhythm, the sound of your own wetness hitting your ears.

The vampire glove was being used still on your stomach and around your breasts, it wasn’t enough, it needed to be more.

“Ca…can you use the glove harder pl…please?”

Noah ran his hand down your tummy with such pressure that you felt the marks that would be left and you loved it, the pain mixed with the pleasure he was giving you was on another level, the marks stung, your core was on fire as Noah was now devouring you.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, your thighs closed in around his head while he used his tongue on your clit and he added another inked digit and quickened his pace.

The feeling of the glove dragging down your inner thigh hard is what finally sent you crashing over the edge, you cried out as Noah worked you through the aftershocks wracking your body, until you pushed his head away as it became too sensitive.

Noah gave you one last lick and a kiss before sitting up and removing the last glove, both discarded next to the bed. He crawled up beside you and held you close to him.

“Colour?”

“A thousand percent green!”

“Good because I’ve definitely left a few marks”

You sat up and glanced down at your body and saw red lines across your thighs and stomach, not enough they would scar but they would be a beautiful reminder for a few days.

“Thats ok, that’s the best feeling I think I’ve ever had!”

Noah smiled and kissed you softly.

“I’m glad”

You smiled and then giggled slightly

“Maybe next time you can try spanking me with them?”

Noah smirked “spanking is meant to be a punishment”

“Looks like I’ll have to disobey you very soon then!”

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #noah sebastian davis #vampire gloves #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #dom noah #noah sebastian imagine #noah bad omens #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction

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cottonlemonade · 2 months

Text

Stuck At The Airport

word count: 1057 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Oikawa x chubby!Reader

genre: very suggestive, smut-ish, established relationship

warnings: mdni, nsfw

synopsis: you tease Oikawa over the phone while he is just aching to get home to you

a/n: I had a draft for Kuroo and Oikawa and liked them both, sorry if they’re too similar 🫠

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You closed the front door with an exhausted sigh, dropping your bag onto the floor. Looking forward to two weeks off you shuffled to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The snow was whirling against the kitchen window and the frost settled on the sill.

You leaned against the counter waiting for the water to boil when you got a text from your boyfriend.

Tooru: Flight was canceled, stuck at the airport, I am so sorry, princess. I'll be home tomorrow, I promise. I love you ❤️x

Attached to the message was a picture of him pouting.

You groaned inwardly - you hadn't seen each other in weeks because he was away for a tournament and you were aching to be with him.

You missed him so much. This weather in particular called for serious cuddle time with your significant other.

After typing out a just as pouty response, you went to take a long hot shower to wash all the stress of the week away.

Oikawa was sitting at the airport, bored and antsy, bouncing his leg.

He wanted to be home with you. No stress, no hurry, just… you and him, cuddled up inside with a nice glass of wine, snuggling on the couch watching a movie and then spending the night making you forget your own name over and over...

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of these kinds of thoughts. It only made the wait seem longer.

He leaned his head against the wall, staring off into the distance, hardly registering the music over his headphones.

He closed his eyes trying to maybe catch some sleep to make the time go by faster.

A short buzz informed him of an incoming message.

At first glance it was just a picture of your bed, the headboard, slightly wonky from various intimate nights, decorated with fairy lights. It was cozy, sweet and made him feel warm inside. He wanted to be there with you.

For a minute he thought that you might snuggle up with a pillow and watch a movie without him, then he noticed something else that sent an electric pulse through his body.

On the inviting bedding glowed a small purple charging light that caught his eye. It belonged to a little something he gifted you before the last time he had to travel.

His throat suddenly felt very tight and he made sure to turn his phone so that no one could accidentally glance at his screen.

The line under the picture read:

You: Guess what I'm doing.

Tooru: My job.

Another buzzing announced a FaceTime call and swallowing hard he picked up.

You were smiling into the camera, hair damp from the shower, dressed in your favourite lacy nightgown, a mischievous glint in your eye.

"I'm guessing you're not alone."

He shook his head, his lips dry.

"Well in that case, baby, we’re gonna go back to the thrilling days of radio and you just gotta listen."

Oikawa’s eyes went dark at the implication and shifted in his seat, taking off his jacket and draping it over his lap. He wanted to tell you to stop, whine and complain that it was unfair and mean and not the right time but… the low hum of the small pink toy, your shallow breaths and quiet moans shut him up. He turned his phone around, so the screen was hidden from view (a crime really because he wanted nothing more than to watch you - but he did remember to make sure to start a screen recording), closed his eyes and listened.

You were gonna pay for this as soon as he got home.

It was a little before three in the morning when he finally unlocked the front door and stepped into the dark foyer.

The familiar smell of you made his heart jump and he hurried to take off his jacket and shoes, considering for a moment to take off his shirt to cut down on time. But he smirked thinking about how much you loved undressing him yourself so he made his way to the bedroom, anticipation tensing every muscle.

You were laying on your stomach, dressed in that short white nightgown from the afternoon, the blanket crumpled next to you. He swallowed, somehow his mouth felt too dry and too wet at the same time.

Oikawa sat at the edge of the bed, thinking about how to wake you without startling you too much. But he was also hungry… in the end he chose to run his warm hand along your plush inner thigh, while kissing your shoulders and exposed neck. His fingers just shy of where he desperately wanted to be he continued to rub, squeeze and kiss until you slowly woke up.

"Hey princess.", he said quietly, smiling against your soft skin.

"Baby, welcome back.", you mumbled happily. Turning to him you rubbed your eyes and stifled a yawn.

Oikawa licked his lips as he let his gaze wander over your body. The three weeks apart themselves had not been the problem. It was the promise of your warm form pressed against him and your teasing that made it insufferable.

"I missed you."

"I missed you more, baby." He leaned in for a kiss, bringing his hand further up between your legs and grinned at your moans.

"Do you wanna play a game?", he asked in that special teasing voice that he knew had you surrendering every time.

"What kind of game?"

He chuckled and kissed your neck again, applying more pressure with his hand, making you gasp for air.

"I like to call it Letting the neighbors know I’m back."

You let out the most adorable giggle that might have stopped his heart if all of his blood hadn’t already rushed somewhere else.

"Yes, sounds good."

He took his hand away and looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

"Y-yes, daddy."

"Good girl. But first, I think I should make you pay for what you did to me yesterday, don’t you think?"

He reached into your bedside drawer and took out the small pink toy you had teased him with.

"Be good, princess, and I'll reward you after."

With a devilish grin he pulled you towards him and leaned down for a deep kiss, setting the toy against your clit, pressing the button to start.

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#oikawa x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #oikawa x reader #hq oikawa #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa smut #chubby reader #haikyuu smut

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