#PRETTY BOY IN PRETTY PLACES IN PRETTY CLOTHES

[thefunkfactory]

Skater Stench

Inspired by Anon Ask

Clay was walking to work on an empty street, looking down at his phone he suddenly saw in the corner of his eye someone quickly moving towards him. All of a sudden, just as he was looking up from his phone, some dude on a skateboard crashed right into him knocking the both of them down. As the skater bro laid right on top of him Clay heard the guy start profusely apologizing, “Oh my gawd duuude im so sorry like I wasnt paying attention at all!”. Getting up first the skater held out his hand to help Clay up to his feet, looking down at himself Clay realized that his outfit was ruined from the fall. As the skater pulled him up Clay began to berate the guy, “How stupid could you be?! Some of us have actual responsibilities like work and I cant show up looking like this!”, etc etc. The skater obviously annoyed that Clay was getting so heated over an accident tried to apologize again, “Look man I am real sorry I-” Clay cut him off “I dont care if you’re sorry! How exactly do you plan on fixing this?!” The skater tried one last time to amend the situation “Look we got off on the wrong foot Im Apollo.” he held out his hand inviting Clay to shake his hand. Clay pushed Apollo's hand down and again just was insulting and berating the guy. Tired of this douchebag yelling at him Apollo furrowed his brows and pushed Clay back down to the ground. Falling on his ass Clay yelled out “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?!”, Apollo responded “Dude you definitely need a reality check, i'm just helping give it to you”. Quickly turning around so that Clay was looking right at Apollo’s ass, Clay was assaulted with the stench of Apollo’s obviously unwashed ass “You smell so fou-” “PPPPPPFFFFBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT” Apollo interrupted Clay with a boisterous butt blast. “What….the…fuuuuuuuuck…” Clay said as the eggy stench that Apollo just shot into his face began to make him feel weird. Clay heard as Apollo said “Sorry man but I really think you need this” “FFFFRRRRTTT” another gust was inhaled by Clay. “...this…feels……wrong…” Clay was having an even harder time speaking than before. Turning back around and squatting to get face to face with him, Apollo held Clays head in place and told him “Look bro im gonna change you okay? You are gonna be waaaaay more chill once im done” Apollo watched as Clay gently nodded his head. “PPPPPPFFFBBBTTT” Apollo let out another fart and watched as Clay’s light brown pupil turned into swirling green spirals.

“Good boy” Apollo cooed out to Clay. “Skaters enjoy farting out rank clouds of gas, its the funniest thing to us” “FRAAAP” Clay felt as his nose began to like the fetid smell that was filling the air around the two boys. “Skaters don't mind getting knocked down, it’s part of skating” Clay felt as his anger and annoyance towards the fact the Apollo knocked him off his feet quickly rushed out of him. “FRAAAAP” those feelings quickly rushed out of his ass, producing a disgusting stench Clay would have normally been grossed out by but for some reason he found the meaty smelling fart humorous. “Skaters dont mind wearing ripped up and distressed clothes, in fact they like it” “FRAAAAP” Clay suddenly felt that his clothes were actually pretty cool, his temper would no longer rise if he was seen in ripped up clothes. “Skaters like spending their days skating and fucking other skater bros, its the best way to live” “FRAAAP” Clay’s mind grew lighter as his previous responsibilities evaporated into a smelly fart and were replaced with the desire to waste his days skating around and making his skater bros feel maximum amounts of pleasure. “Skaters are dumb mindless idiots whose brains have been replaced with their own ass stank” “BRRRRAAAAAPPPPP” Clay watched as Apollo recoiled due to the malodorous fart Clay just produced, feeling even more light headed than ever Clay began uncontrollably chuckling, “huhuhuhuhuhuh…” Apollo stood up and held out his hand and helped Clay up to his feet. Letting out one last fart Apollo watched as Clay’s eyes returned back to normal and he stood there with a goofy grin on his face. “How you feeling bro?” Apollo asked, “huhuh I feel… BRAAAP- sniff sniff gooood” Clay chuckled out. “What are you doin today duuuude?” Apollo questioned Clay, “Uhhhhhh skating…duhhhh…what else would I pfffbbbtt be doin?”

[adkawariatka]

Hi, it turns out that fanfiction is really addictive and I still cant move past any recomendations without checking it out. So I have another idea for a dcxdp crossover….

Danny is living on Gotham streets for 4 months. Its perfect hiding place becouse of its aura. Many tradic deaths and general danger on every corner creats ideal barier for all sorts of ghost hunting equipment. Danny wos relucant about Gotham at first but after few failed attempts at finding hiding space, he decided that to hell with that and he will at least try. And thank the ancients that he did because its perfect. No one pays him any attention there is too much homless out there. Even if most kids are staying at Crime Alley seeking Red hood protection. thats one of the reasons why he hestitated at coming to ghotam: vigilinates. They are dangerous, becouse of partnership with goverment…. Who according to Anti-Ecto laws considers him non-sentient and in need of contamination or more often elimination. So yes Danny wos relucant but it turned out fine….. for now. No ghost or human gosthunter found him yet so he counts it as a success. Any other city, forest, mountains or everything else he tried didn’t last longer that a month. He might not be proud of his surviving technics like stealing, laying and dumpster diving but its not like he has a choice…. He is too much alive to be accepted in to infinite relams for good which is dumb if you ask Danny becouse he is at the same time its Crown Prince. But maybe Danny is just too naive or something. He does not care. On the other hand he is too dead to be accepted by humans so he kind of floats in between never to fit properly anywhere. He is surviving, and for about a year he wos completly alone until that one day…

Danny wos sitting on the bench in his favourite park close to lovely Café that had really beatifull cupcakes with blue whipped cream. He liked to pretend that he is a customer there and just waits for his order….that wos never placed…. Well who is he kidding he is just creepy homless kid that stares at people eating sweets from across the street. Pretty pathetic IF you ask Danny but he prefers not to dwell on his mental health thank you very much. So he is staring when a group of kids takes one of the outside tables. And like a serious creep listens in to their conversation. Well its not like he can swich off his super hearing.

The boys are talking about some homework from school. Danny assumes they are classmates becouse of their maching clothes. When to their table comes another one with darker skin and black hairs. The occupants share meanigfull glances and let the newcommer sit. Danny knows that look. It does not indicates anything good. Its the expression that Dash would make whenever he wos about to do something awful to him. Then the guy with blonde hair says

- Damian why don’ t you eat with us?

And then procedes to push the plate with cookies closer to the boy

- I thought I informed you Winser that I do not eat anything made of milk or other animals products. I am vegan.

Answered Damian with monotone voice. He sat incredybly straight and wos so stiff that Danny thought that must hurt.

- But its so good. beside I offered it. wouldnt it be polite of you to at least try?

Wisner insisted. Sly grin on his lips.

- Leave him be Mike he probably has problems with digesting such hard avaible products.

Said boy to the left with massive collection of pimples on his Chin. Danny named him spotty.

- I do not have any „digestive problems” as you put it Jenkin. I simply choose not to.

- of course pardon our lack of knowledge. Its just we worry that your… original diet wos a little lacking… or maybe you ate a little too much chocholate when you where younger. Thats all

And all of the group snickers to spotty „jokes”. Danny Thinks its primitive and disgusting. Racizm is low blow specially after Damians next words:

- I do not understand

And they laught even more. Damian just sits there confused and oblivious to insults vowen in to conversation. And Danny listens and decides that he must tell that boy the truth. He cant turn blind eye to that. He may no longer be a hero but that? He can help with that. Soon bullies get bored of throwing hidden insults at Damian and go away. Damian sits at their table alone staring at the crumbs of cookies. He looks lonely. Danny standard and walks over to him. But before he reaches the table his occupant whirles to face him. His eyes are very green. Not like ectoplasm but close. They are pretty expresive. Danny can see frustration and confusion in them.

-hi there!

Geats cheerfully.

- I don’t have any cash on me right now

Its the first thing Damian says to him. Rude Danny thinks even if he does looks like a beggar with his thorn jeans and dirty jumper, but he has a mission. And he does the one thing that helps him in stressfull, akward or life treathening situations: he turns it into a joke

- Shame but I will make an exeption for you and give you my services for free

- I am not interested

Damian seems irritated now. Danny procedes to ignore him and sits at the table.

- Well as an expert in friendship I can tell you that those guys weren’t your friends. Better keep away from them

- Thats none of your business. Go away

- well maybe not but you should know what they were saying to you….

And then Danny proceded to inform Damian about the hidden insults and racizem comments. Damian tried to say something and even walk away but Danny wos presistent. When he finaly finished Damian exploded

- Leave me you insolent lowborn go find yourself another imbecyle to milk for money! Or I will stab you!

- Wow that same fancy insults there. I havent Heard lowborn yet. Anyway have a good day!

And Danny proceded to turn on his heel and walk away. He left Damian dumbfoned staring at his back. if the boy decided to do something about this then good if not then Danny at least feels like he did everything he could in this situation.

-

Damian wos confused. That homless lowborn wos strange. He wos not familiar with Damian nor his family. But. Damian couldnt stop thinking about what he told him. About his classmates their words and hidden meanings. Damian wos not hier to Demons head and son of Batman without a reason. He had skills, keen mind and wos curious. So he checked, he spent almost all night reading different forums and sites about bulling and racizem. He tried not Think about how much he resembled Drake in the morning. What he found wos…. Not plesant. It turned out he missed a lot of signs of his position at school. It wos unbeconing of someone of his class. He wos glad to be aware of that problem but now he did not know what to do with it. Father and Grayson expected him to make „friends” and up until yesterday he thought he fullfiled their orders thru his classmates but now he realised it wos failure. He did not want father to Discover his mistake. So now he has different problem he does not know exacly what that „friendship” wos supposed to be. Internet wos not really helpfull, there were so many diversive definitions that he wos confused about what wos true. He wos not going to admit to father or Grayson his incompetence. He will find solution himself. He has one idea that just might work. The lowborn named himself expert in friendship. Damian just has to find him and ask. He seemed willing to sell his knowledge.

-

Danny wos a little confused and suprised to see angry boy from two days before him. In his defense Danny did not start this conversation. It wos Damian who came to his bench across the café and demanded his services. Which wos weird in itself even before he asked about the price. But he did remember that he made a joke about services so that checks.

- look I am not…

Started Danny but Damian cut him off.

- you introduced yourself as an expert in friendship so I require your services. I will pay generously.

God now Danny wos going to be arrested for child manipulation and thieft. No that can’t happen. He already is hunted for his halfa status that’s enough.

- Listen I don’t want any money. I joked that day. I saw a kid being bullied and stepped in. Further events does not concern me.

Danny tried to leave but the kid wos presistent.

- Well your knowledge proved usefull. I want more

-kid, Damian I don’t want to get in trouble by using you or something. I am pretty sure there is some paragraph for that. Ask Google, it’s better option. And without me involved

- you think I didn’t do it already?! I am not stupid, but the information there are contradicting itself and I can’t distinguish what is true and what is not!!!!

Danny looks at Damian. He is shaking a little, and his words are colored by desperation. Ancients this is trouble… but he wos in this situation before wosnt he? A boy who does not know basic social skills in foreign dimension…alone and lost. Fuck he can’t leave Damian hanging. He can feel his fear in the air. Damn ghost abilities.

- Fine what’s your problem?

-

Danny has been meeting with Damian for over 2 months now. the kid wos socially awkward but quick witted and genarlly nice company. Well Danny wos alone for so long that his judgement may be clouded by he does not dwell on that. It’s nice having someone around. And Damian talks to him. He missed that. First few meeting wos a little awkward but it got better. Danny tried to be helpful,?first they talked about the school interactions, who even wos a friend. But then they got deeper, it turned out that Damian knew about social interactions little to nothing. They talked about family how it works, what it should be like. It wos ironic considering Danny neglectful parents and dangerous home. But he knew how it should look like. Jazz make sure of that when she wos alive. Then Damian started to open up about his origin. Trainings, mother and weird hierarchy. Well Danny saw a lot wilder shit in the zone. A kid from assassin cult wosnt the most shocking but still fucked up. He thinks that Damian might be even winning his little competition: „who had more screwed childhood” He thinks that his calmness helped Damian to share. Ancients he feels like Jazz…. It is not that bad. Damian brings him snacks, becouse Danny refused any money. And Danny talks to him too. Tells him about the stars, laughs about stories of Sam and Tucker Damian will never know who is he talking about so there is no harm. First time from death of everyone loved he does not feel alone.

-

Damian didnt plan to get close to Danny. It wosnt the plan. But he wos such good listener. Danny wos systematic in his explanation of reactions and habits that are „normal” in society. He wosnt showing horror or acted surprised when he told him about discipline in league or it’s hierarchy. He didn’t even flinch when he conveyed stories of trying to establish his position in manor by attempting to murder Drake. He listened then pointed out how different manor and league functioned and then calmly suggested that he should talk to Timothy. Just like that no screaming or anger. Now he knows why father wos so frustrated with him. According to Danny family doesn’t have strict hierarchy or rules punishable by death. It wos strange to have everything finally explained. He understands so much more. He sees that Grayson tried to explain it to him before. But as much as he is fond of the man he wos unsuccessful in his attempts. But he still has one problem… father told him to make friends. It’s a mission that he is failing right now. And if he is being honest he is not talented in this department. Not that he will admit it to anyone… well apart from Danny. When he asked him what else he should do to accomplish this mission he got quiet and fidgeted for a while and then offered

- well if you want I can be your friend

Damian stopped his walk and stared at him. Did Danny filled all the requirements? He did helped Damian not expecting anything in return which friends are supposed to do according to Danny himself, his presence wos entertaining. They understood each other. Both suspicious of their surroundings and cautious in every situation. They know about each other a lot of useless information like favourite food (Danny loved burgers), colors, hobbies or general interests.

-yes that would be acceptable

Damian saw the happy glint in Danny’s eyes and the way he relaxed. They started to walk again as if it wosnt admission of most importance.

So I may post a little follow up about how Tim reacted to Damian apology? I will see. As you can see my writing isn’t the best sorry😅. So in here Danny’s family and friends from Amity are dead and he is 16-isch Damian is fresh from the league and is obviously confused.

[timetothirst]

His big wet eyes and loser boy personality have captivated me (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!Reader)

Summary: you see Ghost's big beautiful calf eyes and you HAVE to say something. also he calls u love because he’s British and it’s cute IDC

inspired by something @suimon said because of course it is

The warmth of the cafe was a welcome reprieve from the biting winter cold outside, and you dusted the snow off of your clothes and hair as you made your way to the counter, not bothering to take off your scarf or light jacket.

You exchanged a polite greeting with the cashier and ordered your favorite hot drink, along with a pastry that caught your eye. Might as well, right? After you had missed your bus home, you deserved a little treat for having to walk in the cold instead!

The wait was blessedly short despite how crowded the small building was, and you grabbed your drink and snack with a quiet 'thank you' before looking around and searching for a seat. A lot of people had the same idea as you, it seemed, because every table and chair in the place seemed to be occupied. It was nowhere near nice enough for anyone to want to go outside to enjoy their food and drinks, so the small cafe was packed.

Well, almost packed.

There was one place left to sit; on a plush chair near a coffee table. A prime spot, if not for the man who was in the chair directly across from it. He was dressed all in black, with nearly every square inch of his skin covered. He was wearing a balaclava, with the bottom rolled up just enough to expose his lips and allow him to take sips of his tea. Not too unusual considering the weather, but still a little off-putting. No one had wanted to occupy the seat closest to him. You could guess why. He was massive, with biceps that were probably bigger than your head, and he didn't exactly seem the most approachable. Still, this was a public place. If he didn't want anyone to sit by him, he should have taken his tea home.

You cleared your throat as you stood in front of him, and he looked up.

"Mind if I sit?" You asked with a slightly anxious smile. The man grunted and shrugged his shoulders before replying.

"Nah, s'fine." He said, his accented voice rough. He gestured for you to approach, and you did, setting your drink and snack on the coffee table before settling in.

"Thanks, I didn't want to go back out in all of that just yet. My hands were starting to get numb…" You chuckled awkwardly, and the man hummed, taking in the sight of your snow-covered boots and rosy cheeks, but he didn't say anything else.

You saw that as your cue to stop talking, and you took a big bite of your pastry.

But then you noticed his eyes. They were...gorgeous, for lack of a better word. Observant and soulful, a warm brown color that looked like honey when the light hit his face. You inhaled quietly, your own eyes widening as you took in the sight. You absolutely had to say something. He wouldn’t get mad if you complimented him, right? He couldn’t just walk around looking so stunning and not expect anyone to mention it!

—————

You weren’t the worst person to be stuck sitting by, he supposed. Not one of those fuckers that wouldn’t stop trying to start a conversation with him despite his one-word responses and clear disinterest. The worst thing in the world for Simon was getting stuck near someone chatty, and you were blissfully quiet, which was all he could have asked for, really.

Not to mention, you were pretty easy on the eyes. A hot tea and a good view was just what he needed to get him through the rest of the day.

He could tell you were thinking about something as you ate your pastry, your eyes trained on the floor and your foot tapping rhythmically the entire time you enjoyed the snack. You were probably just anxious though. He wasn’t exactly the most approachable person, he’d be the first to admit it, but he really did hope he wasn’t making you too uncomfortable. He didn’t particularly enjoy scaring people- provided those people weren’t out to kill him or his friends, anyway.

“Hey, I…um. C-Can I just- say something real quick?” You asked. Your cheeks were still red, but it definitely wasn’t from the cold now.

Despite himself, Simon laughed. Or, well- he snorted really quietly and exhaled out of his nose. His lips twitched upward, and he glanced over at you.

“Don’t need my permission, love, but sure. Go on.”

“Right. Sorry, it’s just-“ You got even more fidgety, and you couldn’t seem to look directly at him while you spoke. It was like he was the sun, and you were trying not to blind yourself.

“I wanted to tell you…your eyes are beautiful.” You finally looked at him then, and your expression was so open and sincere that he knew you meant every word you’d just said.

Simon couldn’t help but be a bit shocked. His physical features had been commented on before, sure, but not like this. You didn’t seem like you were trying to get into his pants- hell, you didn’t even seem to be flirting with him. It was like you simply had to let him know.

“…What.” He said before he had time to formulate a proper response.

Damn it, Simon.

“Your eyes. They’re just really nice, and- i’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said-“

“No, no! It’s…”

More than okay? Incredibly flattering? The nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me? Making me want to kiss you on the mouth?

“…Fine.”

Damn it, Simon!

Despite his lackluster response, you looked relieved, a smile gracing your features.

“Oh, good…I was worried i’d made you uncomfortable, or…” Simon shook his head, immediately shutting down that train of thought as soon as it started.

“Not at all, love. You just…caught me off guard for a second. Can’t say anyone’s ever called any part of me ‘beautiful,’ much less my eyes.” He said, trying to ease your nerves. To his amusement, you looked scandalized, as if it was a travesty that you had been the first.

“No one? Really?”

“Really. S’ppose you’ll have to make up for it by tellin’ me again how pretty I am, eh?” He tested the waters by nudging you lightly, and you laughed.

God, he’d do anything to hear that laugh again.

“Humble in spite of your beauty, I see.” You teased back. Your demeanor became more relaxed then, and you leaned back in your chair a bit.

“Of course. Can't let myself get a big head, can I?"

Simon really liked you. You were a sweet little thing, polite, too- and he started to lose track of time as the two of you spoke. You were really listening to him, enjoying the conversation and not just waiting for your turn to talk, and he found himself talking a lot more than normal as a result. It was then that he noticed you glancing out the window, noticing how dark it was getting outside.

"...Shit. I didn't mean to stay for this long, I-I gotta get home." You muttered, clearly more than a little hesitant.

"I'll walk you." Simon offered right away. He couldn't help but feel protective, not wanting anything to happen to you during your walk home. He knew no one would dare to fuck with you if he was around, and he told you as much.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want you to go out of your way, or-"

"No, no...it'd be no trouble at all. S' the least I can do for keeping you all this time. You'd probably be back by now if it weren't for me." He insisted, standing up and gesturing for you to do the same. He had made up his mind, and he knew you realized that as well, an affectionate chuckle escaping your lips.

"Well...true, but it was worth it. And it's not like I didn't enjoy talking to you. I'd love it if you walked me home."

He had to fight the urge to pump his fist in victory. Instead, he guided you to the door and held it open for you.

"Cold?" He asked, watching you shiver as the winter air hit your skin.

"Y-Yeah...I didn't think I'd have to spend so long outside today, but I missed the bus and I had to walk home..."

Without a word, Simon unzipped his coat and draped it over your shoulders, the warmth immediately transferring to you as you looked up at him with an adorably confused expression on your face. He gave you a look that said 'don't you dare try and give that back to me,' which you seemed to understand.

You smiled up at him and put your arms through the holes, quickly zipping it up and crossing your arms as you walked. You thanked him, and he was grateful for the balaclava covering his face, because he was definitely going red right about now.

The walk to your building was much too short for his liking, and it seemed you shared that sentiment based on the way you frowned as you stared at the door.

"Well, um...thanks for letting me use your jacket, but-" You went to unzip it, but he placed his hand over yours before you could.

"Hold onto it for a while, yeah? You can return it next time we see each other." He said with a wink. Your eyes lit up and you giggled. He gave himself a mental pat on the back.

Damn, that was smooth. Good on you, Si.

"When should we..?" You began.

"Don't worry about the details right now, love. You can next me later an' we'll work it all out."

"I don't have your number..."

"Sure you do. check the jacket pockets."

You did so, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise when you pulled out a scrap of paper with his name and number already written down. While you were staring at it with disbelief, Simon took that as his cue to slip away.

[bucking-mustangs-with-wings]

So I done goofed, and my brain wasn't happy until I wrote a sequel to my little Barbed Wire Hearts snippet/ask/prompt thing from yesterday. So here ya go!

@swifty-fox @moghraidhs this is very much for you because we all needed this to happen

I recommend listening to this while reading, it had me all up in my feels while writing this:

Walking into the hospital parking lot and seeing his old beat up red F150 still sitting there, like a silent vigil awaiting his return was almost a surreal experience for John. As much as he would have found the thought ridiculous in any other situation, he'd almost forgotten it existed in the time he had spent cooped up in the sterile environment of the hospital, mind awash with more pressing matters. Coupled with the stress and worry that had oozed from every single one of his pores like a sickness, the outside world other than room number 13 and its occupant was the only thing he had been mentally able to put any real energy into.

Curt and a few of the other boys had stopped by every few days to slink their way into the wing, jeans and boots and cowboy hats sticking out like a sore thumb amongst scrubs and white coats and had brought him a duffle bag of spare clothes and toiletries so he could use the visitor's showers. He'd made it pretty clear in the first days that he wouldn't be leaving any time soon, not even to pick himself up anything to eat (when he could remember to).

Curt had been an angel in that sense, too. He'd brought Bucky dinner a few nights in a row in the fortnight he was there, some cheap takeaway from one of the diners in the middle of town, burgers and such. And those nights he couldn't make it in to check up on things John had very helpfully been informed by one of the nurses on shift that she was to remind him to eat, even if it was from one of the crappy vending machines dotting the hospital corridors at the behest of a very worried friend that had called the front desk. The soft amused smile the woman had flashed his way alerted him to the fact that none of the nurses were bothered by Curt's mother-hen phonecalls. Especially when Bucky hadn't turned his phone off of silent since he'd been there and one too many calls had gone to voicemail. He knew he'd be getting an earful off Curt and the other boys once he had made it back to the grounds, but he also knew he'd be quickly forgiven his neglect, given the current circumstances.

As he got closer to the truck, pulling his keys out of his coat pocket and twirling them around his index finger, Bucky took a quick glance back over his shoulder at the figure not too far behind him, making sure they were still following him.

Buck still looked like he'd been hit by a semi truck, blue eyes cast down to the pavement as he diligently followed Bucky on auto-pilot, bruises still stark over his face, albeit slightly faded now, but still evident. Still sore looking. His left arm was cast from the hand all the way up to his elbow, held up gently in a sling over his good shoulder. Bucky had no doubt the other man could still feel the telltale ache in his left shoulder-socket where it had been popped completely out in the accident, features wincing every now and then if he stepped too heavily and jostled himself.

His blond hair was in a messed up disarray, bed-hair born of two weeks of laying in an uncomfortable hospital bed for hours at a time, sticking up in some places and falling softly across his forehead in others. The nurses had helped him up and into the room's private bathroom the night before and had helped him finally have a shower before he got discharged the next morning, an awkward affair that Bucky knew the blond didn't necessarily want to talk about if the blush that had painted his pale cheeks when prodded was anything to go by. Better than having to be given a spongebath though, by a long shot, and Bucky couldn't have agreed more.

He also couldn't help the small smile that pulled up at the corner of his lips as he raked his gaze over the smaller man's body, taking in the soft grey over-sized sweatpants (Bucky's) tightened as much as the drawstrings would allow around thinner hips, tucked loosely into worn Twisted X square toe boots. A good idea in hindsight when there was no way Buck would have been able to get himself into a pair of his usual jeans with the soreness of the bruising up his thigh and over the jut of his hip bone, matching his face in colour albeit a bit more angrier looking.

The nights were a bit cooler than they were a week or so before, so at Bucky's insistence Gale was also draped in one of John's massive Ariat puffer jackets, only one arm able to fill the sleeves while the other hung uselessly at Gale's side. With the collar pulled up around his ears, John felt a sense of pride and slight satisfaction knowing he was wearing his clothes. Everything but the plain white tshirt underneath the draped layers.

Walking over to the passenger side quickly after shoving the key in the driver's side door and unlocking it, Bucky opened the passenger door and swept his other arm out in a low gesture, a smirk on his face.

"After you, princess," he drawled, delighting in the unimpressed lift of an unbruised brow shot in his direction, but no real heat or disdain behind it.

He patiently waited with the door held open, allowing Buck to gingerly hoist himself up into the truck's cab knowing if he tried to assist in any way he'd get sworn at for his trouble, ever the independent hard-headed idiot Buck often was. Once the other man was seated comfortably, only a few winces and sharp intake of breath painfully hissed through clenched teeth, Bucky carefully shut the door and trotted around the front of the truck to climb into the driver's seat. He gave a double glance into the truck bed at his and Buck's bags he had tossed in a little while earlier before he'd gone back in to help with the discharge papers.

The old truck roared to life without much protest, and he couldn't help the self-satisfied little chuckle that escaped him, patting the dash like the vehicle was a loyal old dog at his heels. As much as he'd nearly forgotten about her amongst the chaos, he was happy to be back behind her wheel, even if the leather was peeling just a tiny bit from sun damage. It added more character, he thought.

He looked over at Gale, noticing the younger man sitting still and almost stiff, eyes zeroed in on the dash but glazed over in thought and what was probably left over sedation from the heavy painkillers he was given. His expression was blank, nothing giving away even the slightest hint at what was running through that pretty head of his, and Bucky felt that telltale tightening in his throat creep up again. But before he let it get a permanent grip, he reached forward, grabbing the black felt hat that had been sitting on the dash since the previous day (thanks, Curt) and picking it up before turning and dropping it perfectly over Buck's head.

The other man flinched in surprise, ripped out of his thoughts and his bright blue eyes coming back into focus as he turned to look at Bucky, a confused frown creasing his brow as he brought up his working hand and felt the hat underneath his fingers. He straightened it a few centimetres, eyes looking between Bucky's in a numb sort of questioning expression.

"My hat," he said dumbly, voice quieter and still that hint of lost that had Bucky swallowing back emotions that he didn't want to put a name to, instead letting a bright smile grow from his smirk in the blond's direction, teeth bright.

"Well, can't be much of a cowboy without your hat now, can you?" Bucky smiled, watching every minute change in Buck's expression like a hawk. He was rewarded with a swooping sensation in his chest when he noticed the smallest grin colour Buck's face, eyes flickering away from Bucky's with a small huff of a laugh to focus out the windshield.

"Don't think I'll be much of a cowboy for the next couple weeks, Bucky," Gale muttered. As if in stark reminder, he winced as he shifted slightly in the worn leather seat, obviously jostling one of the many painful areas littering his body.

"Ahhh come on," Bucky joked, leaning forward slightly to grip the ancient clutch and put the truck into gear. "You're still one of the best cowboys around, even if you are bruised and battered to high heaven."

Gale huffed out another light breath of a laugh, lifting his good elbow up to rest it against the open window, hand and fingers dangling on the outside and tapping a gentle beat against the metal of the door as Bucky pulled the vehicle out and towards the end of the parking lot onto the main road.

The next half hour of the drive back to the rodeo grounds was silent, just the monotone hum of the local radio turned down to barely audible from the truck's old speakers and the quick whoosh of another vehicle every now and then, passing them on the highway on the way back to where they'd just came from. The sun had dipped low enough on the horizon now that the reaching expanse of the county they were in painted a picture through the slightly dirty windshield, sky lit up in oranges and reds streaked through by a few stray clouds.

Bucky would hazard glances from the corner of his eyes every now and then at Gale, who sat still and stoic beside him, chin now rested in the palm of his hand against the window, eyes cast out to the scenery that rolled by. Bucky could tell that under the surface there was something much more sinister and harsh squeezing at Buck's heart and thoughts, spiraling down deep into a void that he worried he wouldn't be able to pull the younger man out of, even if he lassoed him like a runaway steer.

At some point, with a nervous swallow, Bucky reached his free hand out, covering Buck's thigh with the expanse of it, feeling the tension in the muscles and gave what he hoped was a comforting squeeze, gentle and barely there, but a reminder he was right there with him all the same. He counted it as a win when he noticed Buck's face turn to him slightly with a soft smile, eyes very obviously still avoiding John's own before turning back to the view from the window. It had Bucky releasing a long breath he hadn't realised he had been holding hostage in his chest. He didn't attempt to remove his hand, and Buck didn't make any effort to shift out from under it. If anything, he leaned into the touch, knee swinging softly towards the gear stick in Bucky's general direction after a few moments. A silent thank you.

Bucky couldn't help the gentle self-satisfied smile that graced itself onto his face.

By the time Bucky turned the truck off the highway and through the big open gates of the grounds, the sun had dipped that much further underneath the distant mountains that everything was washed in a barely perceivable darkness. What was left of the sunset was slowly turning itself to the deep blue of the night, stars beginning to reveal themselves against the quickly fading orange glow.

As the beam of the truck's headlights lit up the dirt road further into the grounds and towards the still set up camps close by the back of the arena, the familiar sight of gooseneck trailers and camper trailers, awnings folded out and a pit fire settled in the middle amongst them came more into view.

They could see the silhouettes of a dozen people, Curt and Dougie and Brady and the rest all chatting away circled around the fire, beers in a few hands as Bucky slowly pulled the truck to a stop up beside Crosby's trailer. It wasn't until he had turned off the engine, hopping out of the cab with stiff knees and moved around to Buck's side that Curt's voice cut through the night and reached them through the other voices.

"Ayyyy, the great Champion returns!" Bucky couldn't help the grin from painting his face as he looked up, mid opening Buck's door and seeing Curt walking in their direction, back lit up in orange from the fire's warmth and arms lifted above his head, beer bottle in one hand.

Buck had only just planted his boots on the ground with a slightly pained grunt before he was swept up in a happy but very careful embrace by Curt, the other shorter man being incredibly cautious as to which parts he touched, but none the less enthusiastic in his greeting. The curve of Buck's own smile, teeth glinting in the half darkness caught Bucky's eye and he couldn't help the weight that lifted from the centre of his chest.

"It's good to see you, Buck. They finally release you from that hellhole, huh? Thought our good ol' Bucky here was gonna rot himself to that chair by your bed if you didn't get outta there soon."

Bucky couldn't help the bashful way he rubbed at the back of his neck at Curt's words, hoping the slight colour that rose to his cheeks wasn't too obvious in the lowlight when Buck shot him a soft glance from his peripheral.

"Wild horses couldn't drag me away, Curt," Buck joked back. It was light-hearted and jovial, appeasing Curt's attention on him, but Bucky could see that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. There was a blank faraway look behind those baby blues, and it made Bucky's chest restrict uncomfortably as he watched as more of the boys made their way over. They all stepped forward to squeeze the blond cowboy's good shoulder or shake his good hand, some like Brady and Jack and Crosby mirroring Curt and pulling Buck into a gentle embrace, ever careful of his injuries.

Once they had all made their way over to the fire's warmth, Curt all but forcing Buck into one of the fold out camper chairs in his usual mother hen ways, everyone took their turn updating him and Bucky on everything they had missed while they had been in the hospital. Buck more-so, considering the first almost week the man had been unconscious for most of the time and had missed more than Bucky had.

Curt took a few moments to admonish Bucky like he had expected at having had his phone on silent for nearly the entire time, but Bucky just waved him off with a cocky smirk. He kept glancing at Buck every few minutes, taking note of every small change in the blond's expression, the way he joked with the others, the small smiles and tilt of his chin when he laughed as much as his broken ribs would allow him to in their process of healing. To any of the others, everything was normal, Buck's gentle quiet nature and injuries the reasoning as to why he wasn't quite himself yet, why there wasn't that normal spark in the shine of his eyes. But Bucky could feel the tension, the exhaustion that was more than just from pain and injury radiating from Buck like he was melded with the man's very mind himself. Could see the way he tucked himself further underneath Bucky's jacket every now and then with a faraway look on his face before he made himself more alert to the conversations around him.

Bucky just sat and boded his time, happy to not have to make too much small talk amongst the other boys as the night further darkened and the numbers on his watch got later and later.

When most of the conversations had died down and a few of the boys had retired to their trailers for the night, a few still milling about with the happiness that both Buckies return had caused and talking amongst themselves, voices slightly slurred from alcohol, Bucky stood from his seat against the wheel of one of the goosnecks and shoved his slightly chilled hands deep into his pocket. Making his way over to where Buck was still seated in the camper chair, staring blankly into the fire which wasn't as fierce as earlier in the evening now.

Leaning down, his lips close to Buck's ear from behind he whispered a low "Come on, Sunshine, follow me for a sec. Got something I wanna show ya."

He smirked when Buck jumped slightly in surprise at the sound of his voice so close, obviously so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed Bucky make his way over. Craning his neck backwards so he could look up at Bucky's face, blue eyes trying hard to focus on him upside down, he frowned in question.

"Come on," Bucky repeated, smile soft and obvious as he stepped to the side a little and held his hand out to Buck in an offer to help hoist him to his feet. The blond almost looked like he wasn't going to move, body language hesitant and lips pursing into a tight line, before he sighed and reached out with his good hand, gripping Bucky's offered firmly and allowing himself to be lifted into standing, a small grimace of pain fluttering across his features at his ribs obviously screaming in protest.

Once Bucky was sure he had recovered, he tugged at their joined hands gently, tilting his chin in the direction of the arena with a small smile. Buck looked at him, still questioning in his gaze before he allowed himself to be lead through the cluster of trailers. He didn't drop Bucky's hand, but instead almost hesitantly thread their fingers together. Bucky couldn't help his heart from soaring as he gave Gale's hand a gentle squeeze in silent comfort.

Like second nature he guided Gale out of the gathered maze of trailers, the sounds of the other boy's voices growing further and further behind them until the arena was not far in front of them, only just visible by some of the smaller flood-lights that were still on around the barriers. When they got closer, and Bucky turned towards the holding yards, he felt Gale falter slightly, his hand pulling back subconsciously but he didn't drop their hold.

Bucky looked back at Gale's face, seeing the blond's eyes focused out onto the sands, expression blank but taut like a frayed guitar string on the verge of snapping, and he slowed his stride.

"Hey," Bucky spoke gently, like he was approaching a ready-to-spook horse. When Buck still didn't look at him, he gave their still joined hands a squeeze and a shake, until Gale finally snapped his eyes back to Bucky's. They were wide and had a look of slight fear buried deep behind, flickering over Bucky's face trying to look for some semblance of comfort. Bucky held their gaze for a few moments, both men having stopped in their journey, and waited until he knew Buck was partially back in the present. "Hey it's okay, I promise. Trust me."

Gale's expression was still one of veiled panic and grief for a few more seconds, before he found whatever he was looking for in Bucky's own face and let his shoulders slouch and relax, breath exhaling slowly with a small nod.

With a comforting smile, Bucky tugged at their hands gently until Gale fell back into step behind him, eyes still glancing over to the middle of the arena every now and then like he was seeing invisible monsters advancing towards them.

Bucky could only imagine what was going through the smaller man's head, still often privvy to his own torturous memories and images from the day of Buck's accident no matter how hard he tried to forget and push them back. Every now and then the picture of Gale's face, bright red blood flowing down one side of it and slack in unconsciousness, pale and looking for all intent and purposes dead kept haunting him. But he stamped those thoughts down, focusing instead on the feeling of Buck's thankfully now warm fingers between his own, the slight sensation of his fluttering pulse.

Making it to the holding yards out behind the bull chutes, Bucky carefully made his way through the maze of yards, keeping a firm grip on Buck's hand as the two men threaded their way in and out between metal gates and runs in the dark.

Gale's voice, hushed and urgent, reached him from behind, and the smile only grew on his face. "Bucky I can't fucking see. We're both gonna fall head over tit if you don't slow-"

"Shhh!" Bucky answered back, only pulling Gale further into the pens.

Gale made an affronted noise, mouth parted. "Did you just fucking shush me?!"

"Sure did, now if you'd just shut your pretty mouth and look."

Gale gave his hand a harsh squeeze in retaliation. "Did you forget the part where I just said I can't see? What the hell am I even supposed to be looking a-"

Buck froze in his following of Bucky, the taller man allowing himself to be pulled to a complete stop when Buck's hand pulled against his as the whuffled knicker of a familiar horse finally reached the blond's ears in the darkness.

Bucky turned, facing Buck so he could catch sight of the smaller man's face in the dim light, and he couldn't help the genuine warm smile that split his face, noticing Gale's eyes focused somewhere off behind him, shock evident and an obvious glint of wetness beginning to form against dark blond bottom lashes.

His lips moved silently, stuck on actually producing any noise, until he glanced up at Bucky, brow furrowing into a look of pain. "John.."

"She's been waitin' for you," John said simply in response, still smiling brightly and allowing Buck's hand to drop from his as the blond stepped past him towards the last square pen at the end of the lane.

Almost as if he was seeing a ghost, Buck walked up carefully, eyes flickering over every inch of the palomino mare's body, taking in every inch of her as she walked up to the rails and shoved her head through and pushed her nose into Gale's chest, still murmuring at him. He couldn't help the way his breath rushed out of him at the contact, good hand lifting up shakily until he rested it on the white of her blaze. She nudged at him again, a questioning sort of move and lipped at the cast around his other arm. A silent question of 'what the hell is this thing? Why do you have this?'

Bucky slowly walked up to stand beside Buck, reaching up and resting his arms onto the higher rails in a casual air of relaxtion, and watched, transfixed as Gale just stared at the horse, hand still on her face, the younger's breathing jagged and coming in short bursts. Shock, relief.

After a few more moments, Buck seemed to come back to himself, a disbelieving breath escaping parted lips and turned his gaze back to Bucky. John could see the tears still evident in the other man's lower lashes, glittering and growing and threatening to fall to the dust underneath them.

"H-how..?"

Bucky smiled at him, resting his forehead against his folded arms and looked at the mare in question. "Curt's been looking after her while you were gone. Made sure she was real pampered, 'til you got back and did the pampering yourself."

"But she.. Bucky, I thought she was.."

Bucky chuckled, low and easy, and nudged his shoulder against Gale's. "What, dead? Nahhh, barely got a scrape on her. Tiny little cut just above the front hoof. Vet didn't even have to wrap it."

At John's words it was like a dam broke from within Buck, and he could only watch helpless as the tears gathered in the blond's eyes finally fell down his cheeks in silvery lines as he squeezed them shut, body bowing over at the waist with his good hand braced against his knee before straightening again. Buck tilted his face to the sky for a few seconds, breathing ragged, a barely audible sob hitching from his lungs painfully.

"I thought she broke her neck. God, Bucky I thought she was fucking dead, I thought she'd broke a leg, and she had to be shot. Fuck I- As soon as I woke up, that's all I could... that's all I could fucking-"

John stepped up to Gale, reaching up and pulling the smaller man against his broad chest and held him there, feeling the small tremors that wracked Gale's broken body. He put a hand against the back of Gale's head, fingers threading through golden strands, hat getting knocked off kilter and falling onto the ground.

"Hey, hey, you're okay. Everything's okay. Baby's okay. She's as tough as her goddamn rider," Bucky shushed him gently, resting his cheek against the top of Buck's head and just allowing the other to cry all but silently into his neck. He could feel the air chill the wetness there and looked up to the stars himself and thanked whatever was watching over them that Buck was still here, that he was still alive and able to be held in his arms like this. He felt his own eyes begin to gather tears at the fragility of the man in his arms, and swallowed harshly against them.

Bucky inhaled deeply, Gale's good hand clutched desperately in the side of his jacket, a warm weight sitting there as he pressed his lips into the crown of Buck's hair.

"Think she came out of it a bit better than you did, though," he whispered as an afterthought, lips curving into a smirk when he felt Gale clench his hand into a fist and thump it into his ribs in reply. He couldn't help the chuckle that rumbled in his chest, only slightly moving back so that he could look down at Buck, his smirk melting into a soft smile at the sight of Gale now looking up at him. Tear stained cheeks and lashes clumped together, a defiant glare but with no real malice directed at him, eyes bright and blue and more reminiscent of the Buck that John knew and adored.

Gale's eyes flickered from his down to his lips and back, frown easing into something much softer and more vulnerable, and Bucky thought his heart would explode at the pure emotion he could see mirrored in Buck's irises. His breath stuttered, smile slipping off of his lips and heart thundering like a freight train behind his ribs.

Everything fell into a syrupy slow motion as they stared at eachother, Bucky's hand that had been gently cupping the back of Buck's head slowly slipping around to cup the other man's cheek, slow and careful, thumb sweeping over the sharp line of his jaw in a barely there caress.

He swallowed thickly, noticing Buck nudge into that hold, eyes lowering back to his lips. He felt like his entire world was tilting on its axis, narrowing down to just the two of them standing out in the middle of the stock pens behind the arena where he nearly lost the one thing he had ever truly cared for more than the feeling of being perched up on a raging bull's back. Even riding a bull made his heart thunder less than it was right now.

Carefully, giving Gale the chance to pull away, he sighed, breath ghosting over the other man's lips. "Buck, I-"

"Shut the fuck up and kiss me John before we both die of old age," Gale whispered harshly, good hand that was gripping into Bucky's jacket tugging now and John couldn't help the surprised smile from lifting his lips.

"Sure thing, cowboy," John laughed silently, revelling in the familiar exasperated roll of Buck's eyes towards him before he surged forward and ever so gently pressed his lips against Gale's, eyes closing against the absolutely overwhelming sparks that ignited in his chest like someone had just lit fireworks behind his sternum.

Gale's lips were soft, just like he'd imagined a million times, pliant and warm and so gentle it stole his breath away, and it wasn't until Buck's good hand reached up and threaded through his dark curls that he allowed himself to deepen the kiss, tilting his head slightly. His lips parted, allowing Buck the access to slip his tongue carefully along his own, insistent and starved but always gentle. He could feel the taut guitar string tension like a mockery of earlier in the night behind Gale's kiss, a long awaited hunger like a man starved and then unleashed among all the sustenance he could have ever wished for.

It wasn't until Buck made a small sound in the back of his throat, a small needy gasp that Bucky allowed himself to pull back slightly, letting his lips linger as he allowed Buck a few more soft kisses before he gasped himself, pulling air into his starved lungs and it was only then he realised that at some point he had stopped breathing all together.

Buck didn't chase, happy and content with what had just happened, but still comfortable to stay wrapped up in John's arms, no sign of regret or fear in any way, and Bucky let his eyes open slowly and wander over the ruined and wrecked expression on the other man's face. Kiss swollen lips were still parted, breath huffing sharply, body still trembling but for entirely different reasons than before now, and Bucky didn't think he had ever seen anything more perfect, more beautiful in his life. Nothing, not even winning the PBR in Vegas could make him feel as elated or wonder-struck as this moment right here, having just kissed Gale fucking Cleven in some random rodeo grounds.

Trying for a few moments to catch his breath, Bucky let his thumb graze over Gale's jaw again in a gentle gesture, watching half lidded blue eyes peer up at him in wonder. He couldn't help the breathless laugh that escaped him, forehead bumping against Buck's, tips of their noses touching shortly after.

Baby knickered from behind them, shocking them back slightly into the present and John laughed again, the mare reminding him of something.

"By the way," Bucky panted, grin curving even further "Curt may wanna demand some compensation looking after your girl. He's down one half of an ass-cheek as of two days ago. She's got a nice pair of chompers on 'er."

Buck realed back, shock evident in his eyes and the gape of his mouth. "She fuckin' what?"

[ikeromantic]

Ikesen Boys React to a Tattooed MC pt 4

Thank you again to @otomedad for this fantastic idea ^_^ This one has Mitsuhide, Keiji, and Ieyasu! Approx. 2600 words of tattoo and MC appreciation!

Mitsuhide

Mitsuhide’s smile was infuriating. You wipe the sweat from your forehead and stretch your aching muscles. After five hours of practice, you were tired, your hair was a tangled mess, and your clothes looked even worse. And Akechi was just standing there, grinning, not a single hair out of place.  

“That was much better, little mouse. Almost passable.” His grin widens. “In another week or two, you might be able to fend off, say, a small rabbit? Perhaps a squirrel?”

You throw a sweat-damp rag at him, which he dodges easily. 

Mitsuhide’s eyebrows arch. “What’s this? Another match? I could never deny my little one.” 

“W-wai-ahhhh!” You hold up a hand to stop him, only for him to grab your hand and send you up and over his shoulder. He holds you there, your head flopping against his upper back, legs kicking uselessly in the air.

“Hmm. I think you’ve lost this round. You don’t seem to be able to get down.”

You seriously consider biting him, but there’s no easy spot to clamp down on. Besides, he’d probably just - 

“If you bite me, I will return the favor.” You hear the laughter in his voice, and feel his breath on your leg.

“Put me down!” 

Mitsuhide does laugh then, a low, wicked chuckle that sends feelings skittering through your frayed nerve endings. “I don’t think I want to, though. You’ll have to convince me.”

You struggle some more, trying to grab hold of him so you can leverage your grip to wriggle out of his. It’s impossible not to be aware of the flex of his muscle, covered by thin linen. The way he holds you, gentle, but implacable. Your pulse is racing and your face is red from more than exertion. I’m just embarrassed, you think, knowing that’s not quite true. 

With some effort, you manage to grasp his clothes firmly enough to pull yourself down, but you feel the loose folds of your hakama slide away from your hips as you do. You freeze, held by the terrible image of Mitsuhide carrying a pantless you, your rear in the air, legs kicking. 

“It seems my little mouse has only further ensnared herself.”   

The low, smooth tone of his voice sends a little shiver over the newly bare skin of your hip, and you fancy that you can feel his hair tickling that sensitive spot. “You - I - this - this is your fault!” It’s hard to think, and you wonder if he’s distracting you on purpose. Teasing, as always.

Mitsuhide chuckles, the laugh more something you can feel than hear. “But however will you escape? Perhaps you could persuade -” He pauses, holding very still.

“Ummm. Pretty please? Put me down?” You stop squirming, hopeful this means he’s done with his current game.

Instead, he shifts his grip on you, and you feel a cool, calloused finger drag against your hip. 

The unexpected touch, featherlight, sends a jolt of heat through you, and you bite back a pleased sigh. There is no way you’re letting Akechi get to you. Nope. No. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing his taunting touch got to you this time. “Mitsuhide -”

“You have been marked. What is this, my naughty little mouse?” 

For a moment, you have no idea what he means and then you realize. He must have glimpsed your tattoo. Your face, already hot, grows hotter still. This was something you hoped to keep to yourself. Especially given . . .

You feel his fingers catch the waist of your hakama and pull it a little further down. “Wait! Stop!”

Mitsuhide pauses, though now you can feel the cool air and his warm breath teasing your low hip. “This is no irezumi kei.” His voice has changed, the teasing replaced by strained curiosity.

“I told you I’m from the future. People have all kinds of tattoos there.” You hope he hasn’t realized what the design is. Please, please, you think, if there is any goodness in the world, he won’t see enough to -

“Little one. This is a -” His voice is so low you don’t catch the end of his sentence. 

You let out a breath, realizing there’s no escaping it now. “Look. I got that a long time ago. It was supposed to be the first part of a full leg sleeve.”

He sets you down gently, his hands lingering at your sides. His eyes are molten gold, and you find it hard to look away. “May I see it?”

 It is tempting to tell him no. To return some of the frustration you feel with his obtuse answers, his hot and cold behavior. But you find that you want to show him. Afterall, who else would appreciate this particular design more? You carefully tug your hakama down to display your hip and upper thigh. There, etched in bright colors is a nine-tail fox. The kitsune leaps from cloud a cloud toward a flower that looks like a cloud - or perhaps it’s a cloud that looks like a flower - and below that, the first hint of a river that was meant to tie the leg sleeve together. 

Mitsuhide’s smile widens and he kneels to get a closer look. 

“Go ahead,” you sigh. “Say what you’re going to say.”

His breath is warm against your skin as he leans close, his hand not quite touching. He stares into the soulful eyes of the inked kitsune, one fox to another, as if it might hold answers for him. When he looks up at you, your heart stutters in your chest. “You somehow manage to surprise me still, little one.” 

You aren’t sure what to say, and honestly, you feel as if you can barely breathe much less speak. It’s not just Mitsuhide’s closeness, or even your vulnerability in this position. It is the expression that haunts his eyes, a flicker of something hopeful, something raw beneath his usual smiling mask. 

“Why did you choose this? This . . . unworthy trickster?” His voice is almost inaudible, as if he too is having trouble breathing.

“Unworthy?” Your eyes go wide. “Kitsune are wise. Tricksters, yeah, but that just means they didn’t lose their sense of humor. They are noble and cunning and they pursue knowledge, even when it’s forbidden, and - and I wanted to be all those things too.” You fall silent, wondering why his comment upset you so much.

Mitsuhide stares at you, his brows arched high, his lips parted. Then he laughs, a paper thin, breathy sound that rises to a low chuckle. “Truly you are something . . . else.” He stands gracefully, his gaze still on your face.

“You too,” you mutter and turn away, busying your hands with fixing your clothes. It isn’t fair how he always tangles your feelings, you think. Looking at you like that, his voice, his eyes, his touch.

“Your tattoo is lovely. As lovely as you are.” He brushes a hand down your arm, a tender gesture. 

You freeze, butterflies filling your chest. His compliment means so much to you, but you don’t know what to say in return. Your throat feels parched and tight. After a shaky breath, you look up, determined to ask him why he teases you so, but he is already moving away, his back to you, the moment gone.  

Keiji

“Sometimes I don’t know why I bother,” you murmur to yourself. The subject and cause of your annoyance crouches a few steps away, all but ignoring you, his gaze turned toward the street just beyond the mouth of this narrow alley. You think you might prefer his silence to his commentary. 

He turns his head slightly to regard you, and you have the uncanny sense that he heard your whispered complaint. Chagrined, you offer him an apologetic smile, which earns you an eyeroll and a smirk. 

You do your best to ignore his reaction, but you can’t help the flush of embarrassment in your cheeks, or the way his regard makes your pulse pound.

A few short minutes later, he gestures you forward as he steps out into the clear street ahead. You follow, a nervous energy in your steps. In fact, you are so nervous that your feet tangle mid-step. 

Keiji catches you before you hit the ground, his warm arms pulling you up in an unexpected embrace. “Careful,” he admonishes you sharply, but you see the genuine concern in his gaze.

“Thanks.” You pull away, self conscious and even more embarrassed now. At this rate, Keiji will never ask you along to anymore of his clandestine missions. You try not to meet his gaze again as you straighten your clothes.

He reaches out, grabbing your hand before you manage to tug your sleeve back into place. “Is that - are you - princess . . .” The sharpness in his tone melts into surprise as he pulls your sleeve back up. 

“Ehehe, umm . . . it’s a tattoo?” The inked lines of three noh masks stare back at the two of you. “I did costuming for theater and I, I liked these designs.” You end on a defiant note, practically daring Keiji to say something snarky.

Surprisingly, he says nothing, just strokes your marked skin with the rough pad of his thumb. The touch sends a pleasant shiver through you, which you hope he doesn’t notice. 

“So . . . can I have my arm back,” you venture after a few awkward moments. 

Keiji nods, but doesn’t let go of you. “Do you know what these mean?” His voice sounds distant, soft and surprisingly tender. 

You nod. “I . . . yes.” Your gaze follows his thumb to the three faces. I got Zō because I feel like she represents the best in women. Divinity and beauty. Wisdom. And then, Namanari because hell hath no fury, right? Holding onto anger makes me a demon. So she’s kind of a warning for me to let it go, but also, like, a reminder that it’s ok to be angry too.”

“And Rōjo?” He looks up, his warm amber eyes meeting yours. 

“To remind me that getting older is ok too.” You shrug uncomfortably, feeling oddly exposed by the confession. 

Keiji studies you, tension in his shoulders and jaw. “It’s nice. Your tattoo.”

Your eyes widen a little at the compliment. “You know you don’t have to fake things around me,” you tell him, half hoping he means it and half sure he doesn’t.

“I said I like it, ok? It’s pretty.” He frowns, a little crease forming between his eyebrows.

For some reason, the all too familiar expression of disapproval combined with the kind words sends little butterflies spinning through your tummy, and makes your heart do a funny little flip in your chest. He has no right to look so cute, you think. Or to say such nice things while his thumb makes little circles on the inner side of your arm. “Th-thanks.”

One eyebrow lifts slightly along with the corners of his lips. “You’re blushing.”

You jerk your arm away, trying to get ahold of your galloping heart. “I am not!” 

He laughs, a sound free of nega-Keiji’s bitterness, one full of a sudden, intoxicating joy. 

This does nothing to help you rein in your reaction, but you find yourself joining in the laughter with him. “Come on, let’s just go meet your contacts,” you say through your giggles. 

“Yeah. That’s right.” He smiles and you feel another flush of heat in your cheeks. One that only grows as he reaches for your hand.

Ieyasu

“Hold still.” Ieyasu’s crisp tone brooks no disobedience. 

You stop squirming and take a deep breath. “Sorry,” you mumble. “It just hurts.”

A faint smile curls the edges of his mouth. “Yes, well, tumbling down a gravel path usually does. You should be more careful. At this rate, I’ll have to accompany you everywhere just to ensure you don’t hurt yourself.”

You feel a goofy happiness at the gentle expression on his face as he says it, though his tone stays sharp. “I’m not that clumsy,” you argue. “I don’t need babysitting.” 

“The evidence leaves that very much in doubt.” Ieyasu tugs your kimono aside, revealing your hip and thigh. There is an angry red patch of skin where the gravel scraped you badly, and his eyes flick over the wound with concern. Then his gaze travels up and you notice his brows rise. 

“What? What is it?” You start to move again and stop as he rests a hand on you. 

Ieyasu frowns, his fingertip tapping just above your injury. “You have a mark. Like a painting but -” He drags his finger over the ink of your tattoo. 

“Oh, that.” You laugh self-consciously. You hadn’t been thinking about the tattoo at all - especially not after your spectacularly embarrassing accident that morning. Tripping over a rock and sliding halfway down a gravel and sand path while out walking with Hideyoshi. And to make matters worse, he’d insisted on carrying you to see Ieyasu for treatment. Thankfully, he hadn’t stayed. You could easily imagine his disapproving expression. Probably more so than the face Ieyasu was making now. 

“Yes. That.” He leaned closer to your leg, studying the colorful image there. “It looks like an octopus. Holding a flower?” Ieyasu’s voice has lost some it’s usual coldness, thawing to an unexpected warmth with curiosity.

You feel another little flutter in your chest and tell yourself to calm down. “It’s supposed to be Akkorokamui holding an anemone. I got it after my parents passed away.” The memory of your intense grief is enough to make you pause. It’s been so many years since you lost them, but it still hurts. A dull, distant ache you don’t notice most of the time. Only on those lonely, long nights when there is nothing to distract you. 

Ieyasu looks up, concern in his wide green eyes. “You don’t need to tell me if it’s too much.”

“No, it’s ok. I can talk about it. That was several years ago and I - I’m alright now.” You give him what you hope is a reassuring smile. “I read that the octopus was a symbol for adaptability. And that Akkorokamui meant healing and wisdom. So . . . I got it as a tattoo, so I would never forget I can handle everything life throws my way. That I will always heal, in time.”

His warm palm strokes your thigh, a gentle touch meant to be calming. The effect on you is less than, sending your pulse skyrocketing. “I see.” He continues the tender caress, though his brows furrow. “But why is it holding a flower?”

“Fragility and strength. Because I’m fragile but I want to be strong.” You take a breath, trying to calm your heart and settle the ache in your soul. Surprisingly, your grief already feels less, as if Ieyasu’s closeness has chased it away.

He nods, looking back down with his thoughtful expression. “I think it’s nice.” 

You can’t miss the flush of red in his cheeks, or his sudden shyness as he pulls his hand away. 

“Too bad such a pretty picture can’t stop you from being a danger to yourself. But I don’t think this will leave a scar on your lov- er, your skin.” Ieyasu’s coldness returns in full force, his eyes as hard as jade.

“Do you really think it’s pretty? I like it but -”

“Of course it is,” he snaps back, already pulling out a tincture to clean your wound.

You bite your lip at the sting, eyes watering a little. 

Ieyasu sighs, his shoulders losing some of their tension. “Sorry. I should have warned you. This will hurt a little.”

“It’s fine. I’m just glad you like me - ah - my tattoo.” 

His eyes widen at your slip in speech, his mouth open. The red in his cheeks spreads to his ears, and something in his gaze wavers. “Well. Even I can admit when someone-thing- is pretty. I’m not blind.”

You feel a giggle rising up and clamp down. Laughing now would not be a good thing. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” he mutters, turning away. You can still see the red tips of his ears.

[bullet-prooflove]

hii!! can i request ts midnight prompt: 21)  You and I ended up in the same room, with Nolan Price? 💕

Tagging: @kmc1989 @topmagtiger @ireadfanfictionontheweekends @flopiboni @evee87

References to How We Met - Nolan reflects on your relationship.

There’s one bed. Nolan was expecting at least twin singles but right now he finds himself staring at a queen sized mattress in a shitty motel room trying to puzzle out his next steps.

“I’ll take the floor.” He says as he props his rolling suit case up against the door.

It’s been a long drive from the city, you’d handled the majority of it while he read and then re-read through the case file in the car. He has to go up against a judge tomorrow, argue jurisdiction because your perp not only killed in New York, he also killed in New Jersey too and they’re being territorial.

“Nolan.” You say firmly as you set your holdall down on the bed. “We’re both adults. I’m not letting you sleep underneath your suit jacket on this very dubious carpet.”

You aren’t wrong about the carpet, it’s sticking to his shoes.

You shower while he unpacks his clothes. He listens to you sing to yourself as he hangs up the drycleaner’s bag containing his suit on the curtain rail. He can’t help but smile at how oddly domestic this whole scenario feels. Though if he were taking you away it would be to a B&B in the Catskills, not this God forsaken place.

Nolan rubs his hands over his tired features, he isn’t even sure why he’s thinking about that. He’s been thoughts like this ever since the night you fell asleep in his office. Things had changed between the two of you since then, you’d brought him an apology coffee, shared a breakfast pastry and from then on he was smitten because he’d caught a glimpse of the real you. The pretty detective who’s just as dedicated to justice as he is.

He’s tucked in bed by the time you leave the bathroom, the latest Dan Brown clasped between his hands. His gaze flickers up as you close the door behind you and his heart just stops because the sight of you in an oversized Six  t-shirt and boy boxers is just the most adorable thing he’s seen in his life. It’s in that moment Nolan realises just how much he wants this, not the sex but the intimacy of being with someone who knows you, who cares about you.

“I didn’t know you were a fan.” You remark, gesturing at the book as you climb into bed alongside him. He can feel the heat of your body rolling off you as you settle beside him, your cheek pressed to the pillow.

“It’s escapism.” He tells you as he sets the book down on the nightstand and lies down beside you, looking into your eyes. “The closest I’ll ever come to being a treasure hunter.”

“Is that what little Nolan wanted to be when he grew up?” You ask him, your lips curving up into a small smile.

It unlocks something deep inside him and in that moment there is nowhere else he would rather be than this rundown motel in New Jersey.

“And an astronaut.” He tells you, shrugging his shoulders. “I had lofty goals from a young age and I was obsessed with space, still am actually. I have a year round pass to the observatory.”

His cheeks colour as he tells you that last part because he realises he’s revealing something he’s never told anyone before. He doesn’t share his private life with his colleagues, he likes to keep the two world separate.

“Your turn.” He says, clearing his throat. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

You purse your lips together for a second before saying.

“This is the first time I’ve shared a bed with someone in years.”

That does surprise him, you must see it in his features because an apricot flush creeps across your cheeks.

“It’s been a long time for me too.” He finds himself telling you.

He’s had liaisons on and off over the past few years but they always leave or he does. Noone spends the night. Somehow the time he’s spending with you right now is far more intimate than any of the sex he’s had.

“Do you miss it?” You ask him. “Being that way with someone else? Being held by them?”

There’s such a vulnerability in you right now, you’re sharing a part of yourself with him and it’s only fair that Nolan does the same.

“Yes.” He says honestly. “The life I lead… it’s lonely.”

You understand that, he can see it in your eyes. The job you do, the one you did back in the Bronx, he understands how it can create a disconnect.

“We don’t have to be lonely tonight.” He whispers. “Not if you don’t want to.”

His arm wraps around your waist, drawing you closer. You feel so good pressed against him, the perfect fit against his muscular form.

“Nolan.” You say quietly, your fingertips ghosting along the line of his jaw.  

“Just let me hold you.” He murmurs, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “Let me show you how much I care.”

Love Nolan? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[violetrainbow412-blog]

The important date [R. L]

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

word count: 5.1k

an: I was very excited to write this. I'm latina and Kuku completely won my heart and I think he's absolutely like a young remus. If you want to read more of this you can tell me and I would be very happy to see a comment or reblog. Kisses!

People who might be interested: @fairysluna @madame-fear @luceracastro @luv4fati

You were quite nervous when you knocked on the door of the modest apartment whose address was written on the folded paper inside your pocket.

You had tried to look your best before leaving the house, but the wind on the way had messed up your appearance slightly and while you waited for a response you ran your hands through your clothes, trying to fix the damage.

After a few seconds no one came out and as you knocked a second time the fear of having gone to the wrong place settled in you. You were startled when the door finally opened and a boy appeared, about your height, with long black hair and whose bare chest was covered in tattoos.

“You aren’t my pizza.”

“Uh, sorry. “I probably went to the wrong house” you exclaimed sadly.

“I don't know if you were wrong, but you can come in if you want,” the boy said, smiling mischievously at you while winking at you and leaning against the door frame.

“You weren't wrong! I'll be there in a moment” a voice spoke from inside. He sounded agitated, but you still recognized him.

The stranger looked at the apartment in disbelief and then looked at you from head to toe, as if he was analyzing the situation.

“Are you coming with Remus?” You nodded. “Okay, so I… Excuse me?”

Without waiting for your response, he half closed the door and then you lost sight of him, leaving you just as confused as at the beginning.

Sirius, oblivious to your sight and hearing, practically stumbled down the hall until he reached Remus' room. He was trying to comb his hair at the same time as the toothbrush rested in his mouth.

“Do you want to explain to me why there is a pretty young lady waiting for you out there?”

“She's my college classmate,” he said in a half-understandable way.

The place was so tiny and there were so many books everywhere that he almost fell when he went to spit the toothpaste into the sink, trying to hurry as much as possible.

The apartment was always messy, in general, but the one who made the least mess was Remus. His only problem was the ridiculous amount of sweaters, boots, and pieces of literature he bought at second-hand places, which had slowly managed to plague his piece of space.

“Are you wearing that expensive cologne you bought last time?” mocked James, who had been in the living room but thought it appropriate to join the conversation. “And you're combing your hair.”

“Is she the one you stay with to study so often?” Sirius insisted, his brain spinning events.

"Yes, sometimes"

“And why did she come here?”

“Because I invited her to dinner.”

"Here?!"

“No, in a restaurant”

Both James and Sirius were slightly taken aback, as there had been no mention of you in any previous talk and it wasn't very common for Remus to do that kind of thing.

“And why didn't you go to her house for her?”

“She said it was on the way,” he responded breathlessly. He was still struggling with putting on his shoes.

“Bad there, Moony. You should be a gentleman and go pick her up at her house instead of keeping her waiting.”

“I would have done it if it hadn't been for the fact that you two idiots forgot to pay the rent that is due today. I had to pass a while ago and the time was barely enough for me”

“Didn't you pay, James?”

“I thought it was your turn!”

“Anyway, that doesn't matter anymore.” Remus got up to search his dressing table for a few golden rings “It's late and I have to go.”

“You can't leave us like this! What's her name? Have you kissed her?”

"He is right. Come on, introduce us to your girlfriend.”

“She's not my girlfriend yet,” he exclaimed, taking a last look in the mirror. He looked good, to have done it so hastily “But I plan for her to be today.”

The jaws of both listeners almost dropped to the floor at that statement and if they were already curious about the stranger's appearance, that had only increased their interest.

“I'm leaving, don't wait up for me.”

"Wait!"

“Bye,” he said, hurrying down the hallway toward the exit.

Sirius and James immediately followed him, but before they could ask anything he had already opened the door.

“Remus.”

"Hi, sweetheart. I’m sorry for the delay,” he apologized benevolently, as he leaned down to kiss your cheek in greeting.

The two curious people managed to see this exchange and then Remus closed the door, but not before giving them a warning look that was responded to with an expression of astonishment and another of pride at what they had just seen.

“How well he kept it, right?”

“Why do you think he didn't want to introduce us?”

“Possibly because you are in pajamas, I flirted with her, and because there are pigs that live in better conditions than us.”

“But he still could have told us something. We are your friends.”

“Give him his space. Maybe it's a nice thing he wants to keep for himself."

“That's why he's been so happy lately,” James reflected.

“Yes, it is likely.”

A knock was heard on the door and the two began to fumble with each other to open it first, eager to be able to see even a moment more of their friend's woman.

But it wasn't them, it was a thin boy dressed in uniform.

“Good evening, Sirius Black?”

“Yes, it's me,” he responded disappointed, taking a bill out of his pocket and receiving the pizza box in his hands while James returned to lie down on the couch.

By this point you and Remus had already left the building. During the way he offered you the full explanation for his lateness, trying so not to get angry with him.

“It's okay, I didn't wait too long,” you reassured him. “I guess those are your roommates.”

“Sirius is the one with the tattoos and James is the one with the glasses.”

“They seem nice”

“They are a little weird, but when you meet them you like them”

With one deft movement Remus placed you on the inside of the sidewalk and both of you took a moment to observe each other. You were wearing a tight white long-sleeved blouse, underneath a strapless dress with a floral print, and you were wearing your comfortable brown leather boots. He, looking completely elegant, in a beige trench coat over a light blue formal shirt and a kind of scarf with lines that combined both colors. For a few months he had been growing his facial hair, which made him look older, but in a good way.

"Where will we go?"

“There is a restaurant a few blocks from here. He looks calm and I thought you might like it. James orders food delivered sometimes and it tastes good.”

“Good” you smiled. You trusted your friend's good judgment in choosing a place.

The truth was that the beginning of your friendship was somewhat curious and you would have to go back a while to understand it.

A few years ago, Remus had his doubts when Sirius and James encouraged him to enter a Muggle university. They had decided after graduating from Hogwarts and moving to the apartment they shared in search of independence and adventure, but the brunette still didn’t have a clear picture of what he wanted for his life. 

Furthermore, he didn’t have as many financial resources as his friends to live comfortably and study at the same time. He allowed himself a year of work to raise money, even without knowing if he would use it for an education or something else, and since in that time he saw that they were both comfortable in what they had chosen, he decided that he could give the Muggles a chance. Although he had some administrative problems, since Hogwarts wasn’t a validated school for those cases, after sending a letter to Albus Dumbledore to ask for help, everything was solved and he was able to enter the philosophy faculty in a modest institution.

Before you, Remus didn't have many friends. He was able to start a conversation with his classmates and function in the classroom, however, he almost always spent his time in his books or at home. Sirius invited him to art school parties but when he attended, beyond drinking and making sure his friends didn't do anything stupid, he didn't do much.

His life had been quiet until you met him a few years later. The link that brought you together was that you had enrolled in an elective sociology class at the university and it turned out that Remus had chosen the same one. Despite being quiet, the boy quickly gained your attention due to the scars on his face and arms, which you still hadn't dared to ask about and he hadn't talked about.

Although you were curious, you tried not to observe him too much so as not to make him uncomfortable, but when he had to present a topic or answer questions it was inevitable to focus all your attention on him.

Remus didn't even notice your interest in him until, as fate would have it, the professor assigned pairs for a project and you were his lucky partner.

During the first meetings he felt out of place and even a little uncomfortable, since he wasn’t so used to spending time with other people outside his circle or studying in company. But he soon began to enjoy working with you and eventually recognized that you were an excellent teammate. You almost always spent it in the library because the atmosphere was calmer, although sometimes you would look for a lonely meadow on campus to lie down and continue moving forward. On one of those occasions you discovered that the boy carried chocolate all the time, because he shared it with you to lighten the hours, and it had become a habit to bring something to eat.

The weeks passed and when you presented the product you obtained the highest grade as well as congratulations from your teacher, with which Remus felt more than satisfied. He thought that once what you had in common was over, you wouldn't want to continue frequenting him, but he was surprised when you started looking for him to have breakfast together and he, to reciprocate, accompanied you some afternoons when you stayed in the library to study or walked with you to the bus stop.

You soon discovered that he was, in addition to being intelligent, kind and that he had many qualities that you liked. Likewise, he saw another set of attributes in you that made him feel the same.

As the weeks passed, you began to get along well and by the middle of the course you could already tell that you were friends. Less than a month after finishing it, you had already fallen in love.

“How is your hand?” Remus asked in the middle of a silence, when you had already gone quite a few blocks.

You had cut yourself by accident a few days ago and when he saw the wound he was quite worried, because it didn't look pretty at all.

“Better, it almost doesn't hurt anymore and the antiseptic helps a lot”

As you said that you raised your palm covered with a big band-aid, as if trying to show him that it was true, and he took the opportunity to capture it with his. Remus had a lot of experience with wounds and wished he could heal them with magic, however, he knew it was forbidden.

"It is good to hear"

He searched you for some sign that you didn't want him to hold your hand but, beyond your flushed cheeks, he found nothing.

You continued walking and talking about some other things until the boy stopped at a picturesque place. A couple of people could be seen through the large glass windows, illuminated by the warm light from inside.

Your hand missed his warmth when he let you go to open the door for you and then you followed him to a free table, with a view of the outside but private enough. All around paintings were decorating and some plants too.

You expected Remus to choose the seat in front of you but he decided that the one next to you was better, with your knees touching under the red table.

“Good evening, welcome,” a young girl, who couldn't be older than your age, greeted you. She was a beautiful redhead and her metal badge said Lily.

After she left a couple of menus, she asked you if you wanted any starters or something to drink, to which you denied.

“I thought we were going to a cafe or something.”

"You don’t like here?” 

“On the contrary, it is too cute. If I had known, I could have worn something better.”

"What are you talking about? You look beautiful,” Remus said, without thinking, and you laughed sheepishly.

“You're not far behind,” your hand went to his neck, where you adjusted a fold “You look like a professor.”

"Is that good or bad?"

“I like the professors. I mean, their style” you stuttered. “They look elegant.”

Although you had never spoken openly about what you felt, both of you had the suspicion that the other person felt the same way. Those moments of indiscreet flirting were signs of this, in addition to the multiple daily actions that showed interest and affection for the other.

Still, Remus felt insecure about himself. The physical marks on him were only the most superficial, since he was too afraid that if he confessed to you about his lycanthropy you would end up being scared or simply believing him crazy. He couldn't talk to you about the magical world and that made it even more complicated.

He didn't have much experience with girls in the romantic sense, but he liked to think that he wasn't doing too badly with you. He really liked you, so he wanted to try as hard as possible to win your heart and hoped that he would be worthy of your affection even despite his various flaws.

When the waitress returned you ordered a glass of wine and Remus simply ordered tea, wanting to be as calm as possible to talk to you. The last thing he wanted was for his statement to be ruined by alcohol.

The moments with him weren't awkward but, honestly, the atmosphere demanded a certain composure and it wasn't until after a while that you started chatting like you always did. You talked about final exams and products to be delivered soon, discussing the topics and making some suggestions that could be useful.

When the girl returned Remus ordered a stew for dinner and you ordered some meat pie which soon arrived. You ate it with pleasure, keeping the conversation when it was appropriate.

“Have you thought about what you will do during the holidays?”

“Probably visit my parents. And if not that, maybe enter a summer seminar”

"Study more?" the brunette laughed.

"It's a possibility. I think it would be too boring if I don't. And you?"

"I don’t know yet. Maybe look for a job, or…”

“Let's take a seminar together,” you murmured excitedly. However, you later added: “I mean, if you want.”

“I might consider it,” he murmured with a tight-lipped smile “So we could spend more time together.”

“It's strange, you know? This semester I have felt so happy studying with you. I didn't think college would be so interesting until I found you in that class."

Remus's heart began to rumble in his chest when he heard you say that and it was inevitable to smile. You liked to see him smile.

“Did I ever tell you I wasn’t sure about going in?”

“To sociology class?”

"To the University"

"Oh really?"

“I thought I could have dedicated myself to something else. In Hog... High School I was a good student and I thought it would be enough to get a job. But James and Sirius entered a college and then I thought I'd do it too."

“Remind me to thank them later,” you joked. If they had not convinced him, you probably would never have met “Will you ever introduce them to me?”

“Do you want to meet them?”

“They are your friends after all, right? But only if you feel comfortable, I wouldn't want to…”

“Okay, that would be great. I just feel a little embarrassed sometimes."

"From me?"

"No! From them. No, don't even think about it from you” he hastened to say and both of you laughed “It's about them. Sometimes they act like idiots, like Sirius did a while ago."

“I thought I was just imagining it, but he's kind of… flirtatious, right?”

"Quite a bit, I would say. I would like it to be limited to girls, but I don't think anyone is safe" he laughed. "But don't worry, he won't bother you anymore now that he knows that you...”

Remus fell silent as he realized what he was about to say and you noticed the sudden interruption.

"That?"

“That you are my friend”

To be honest, the answer disappointed you a little. You had been waiting for any kind of sign or proposal for a while and you thought that statement might have been in the answer. And although Remus already had those plans in mind, you clearly weren't aware of it.

There was silence for a moment as the two of you reflected on the conversation, for different reasons, and you tried to make it less awkward by eating some of your dinner.

“It’s raining,” you said after a while, eager to change the subject “I forgot my umbrella at home”

“We'll figure it out, don't worry,” he said happily, oblivious to the feeling he had provoked in you. You had practically finished your dinner when he asked, “Do you want dessert?”

You nodded at that and ordered a delicious red velvet cake and he, as expected, a chocolate one. After this you tried to talk about something else, convincing yourself that you were thinking about nonsense instead of enjoying the moment with your friend. With the boy you liked. 

At some point he excused himself to go to the bathroom and you were left alone at the table, playing with what was left of food on your plate. You looked around as if expecting to see something interesting, but all you saw was the rain falling outside and a pair of people sitting a few tables away from you. They looked happy and from the way they looked at each other you assumed they were a couple. As you watched them you wondered if that was what people thought when they saw you with Remus, because the way they interacted was the way you did; Is that what other students would say when you spent hours in the library, talking quietly and barely distanced from each other? Did anyone think you were a couple when they saw you laughing lying on the grass at dusk?

You considered the possibility of being the first to confess what you felt and wondered if it would be better to wait. Remus called you sweet names all the time and in the last few weeks he had started to become more physically affectionate; he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, he held your hand from time to time, he even sheltered you in his arms that time you had a terrible morning and all you wanted to do was cry. But did that mean something else or was it just the courtesy of a good friend?

You wanted to continue reflecting on it, but your musings were interrupted by the waitress's voice calling your attention.

"Miss?"

"Yeah?"

"This is for you"

She held a beautiful bouquet of pink carnations with clouds surrounding it, wrapped in white fabric and topped with a ribbon. The sight unsettled you, but out of inertia you extended your hands to hold the gift. It was heavy and gave off a mild smell.

"W-What is this? Who sends it?" 

“The gentleman over there,” she pointed out happily.

For a second you felt nothing but confusion. Had someone been stalking you? You didn't remember anyone you knew when you walked in and receiving flowers from a stranger was ridiculous, because the most you could have imagined was that they would buy you a drink. But when you turned and saw that it was Remus who was smiling shyly at you, you understood what it was about.

“Oh my God…” you whispered barely audible, your cheeks turning red “Thank you, you’re so kind.”

“To serve you” she exclaimed, probably happy to have been a participant in that demonstration of love, and then she withdrew.

Trying to calm yourself down, you turned around to talk to the boy, who was still sitting on the stool in front of the bar. You spent a few seconds looking at each other, him slightly uneasy and you feeling completely blushing.

“Are you not going to accompany me? I have some cake that the boy I was with left”

“You'd have to be a fool to abandon a girl like you,” he muttered on the way to the table. He sat on the opposite side to where he was initially, as if he wanted to maintain the fantasy of being someone else who accompanied you. “Did you like them?”

“They are beautiful, you wouldn't have bothered”

“They have something there” he pointed out and in his eyes you could see some nervousness. You took a paper envelope between your fingers from which you took out a small note.

A modest gift for the most beautiful and interesting girl I have ever met. I feel like you brought color to my life and every day I am happy that you found me, wondering what I did to deserve the grace of such a wonderful human being.

It's been a while since my heart has been uneasy about your feelings towards me and at the same time certain about how it feels about you.

I'm sorry if I'm not that good with words, or that good in general. I just hope I'm enough to win your affection and be lucky enough for you to say yes.

Sincerely, Remus.

The boy watched you with a mixture of anxiety and concern as you read the words, waiting for what your reaction might be. You read the entire note twice, just to be sure it meant what you thought, and then you looked at him.

In your eyes, he had never looked more handsome.

“Say yes?” was the only thing you managed to say. It was the part that intrigued you the most about the note.

“To the question I want to ask you, of course” 

“You're not going to ask me to marry you, are you?” you tried to joke, feeling your heart race with anticipation.

"Not yet. But we can start as girlfriend and boyfriend, what do you say?”

Remus was a very curious guy. He was shy and quiet at times, but when an idea got into his head no force could convince him otherwise: he was determined. And he was sure what he wanted with you.

One of your hands went up to his cheek and your thumb caressed one of his scars, one that went down to touch his lips, feeling free to be able to observe him more closely now that you knew you could do so.

"This bothers you?" you asked sincerely.

"What?"

“That I am touching you like this. Your scars”

"I don't mind. I've gotten used to them."

“That was the first thing I noticed about you.”

“Do you think they are ugly?”

“I think they make you look sexy,” you said honestly again and he let out a laugh that was somewhere between nervous and amused. “They make you stand out.”

You were so close to him that he had to lean just a little to kiss you.

“I don't think anyone has ever said that about them.”

“I really like you, Rem. That's why. And I would like to pretend that I need to think about it more, but I know I would be very happy with you. I already am, but... I want to be with you"

“Is it a yes, then?”

“But first I need to do something” you explained and with the help of your hand, without giving him time for anything, you brought him closer to steal a kiss.

Remus gasped in surprise, but put up no resistance and delighted in feeling the taste of your lips mixing with the chocolate he had previously eaten. You were kind and careful with him, who tried to reciprocate as best as possible. 

When you separated from him, your cheeks were red and your eyes were bright.

“It's a yes”

“Did you need to kiss me to decide?”

“I had already decided, I just wanted an excuse.”

And then Remus laughed again. Unable to contain his excitement, he approached you until he hid his face in your neck, trying to drown out his blush, and you felt tickled by his hair rubbing against your skin. Now the closeness of that way between you was correct, no one could say anything and you had the right to do so.

“I was so afraid you would say no.”

“Have you seen how I look at you?” you murmured in his ear “To be so intelligent you miss a lot of things.”

His breathing told you that he was laughing and then you were silent for a moment. Your hand slowly caressed his side while you traced patterns on his back, although he probably didn't feel them because of the layers of clothing he was wearing. Through it all, you thought about how nice the boy's warmth felt against you. Like it felt meant to be.

“We should go,” he said, when he finally left his room and looked at the time on the wall clock. Closing time was almost approaching. “Is it okay if I call a taxi to take you home?”

“Yeah.”

“I'll go pay the bill and be right back, okay?”

“Let me give you some money…”

"No way. No,” he stated firmly. He got up from his seat and, by the way, now he stole a kiss from you “Wait here.”

You did it obediently and while you did it you took the opportunity to observe and caress your bouquet. They were beautiful and you wondered how Remus had planned the delivery. It hadn't been something spontaneous, he already knew the purpose of the date from the beginning and that only made you feel more like a girl in love.

He showed up a few minutes later and, after thanking your red-headed cupid profusely, you waited for your taxi at a table near the exit. When it arrived you practically had to run to avoid the rain, but that didn't matter to you because while you were doing it the brunette held your hand to prevent any accident.

The elderly driver started the engine after you told him your address and silence reigned for a moment, with only the barely audible music from the radio.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?” you asked, after a few blocks. No one lived with you and it seemed cruel to you to send Remus back to his apartment.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“There is enough space. And you must be tired”

You weren't trying to make a sexual innuendo in your words. You just wanted to make the moment last as long as possible.

Remus agreed without much resistance and upon arriving at your apartment, which fortunately was in order, he was respectful by telling you that he could sleep on the couch if you wanted. He seemed so decent to you that you accepted his proposal, taking charge of bringing him enough blankets and pillows to make him comfortable.

He had already taken off his shoes and jacket when you sat down next to him to wish him goodnight. You didn't think he would look much more handsome unkempt and with disheveled hair than he did at first.

"Thanks for the invitation"

“It's the least I could do after everything today,” you said, shrugging your shoulders.

“Was it a good date?”

“It was a great date” you exclaimed honestly and for the third time that night you approached him to kiss him.

This time you took the time to savor the contact, prolonging it as much as possible and causing a spark to settle between you. Remus quickly learned that your lips were soft and definitely more expert than his, with all of that making him feel a little dizzy. You reveled in the feeling of his large hands holding your waist, not knowing where else it was correct to place them. If you could have, you would have kissed him all night, but you separated only because you knew that the desire existed in you and him, afraid that if you followed your prudence wouldn’t be enough to stop you from making love to him on that sofa.

He looked completely enthralled with you as you watched him and you knew you most likely had the same expression. After all, so many months of longing between you were summed up in the pleasure of that physical contact that you were discovering.

“Go to sleep, pretty,” he suggested “I'll be here in the morning.”

“Good night, Remus. If you need anything, go to my room, okay?”

A part of you wanted him to look for you in the middle of the night, but you knew that both of you were hesitant to make any moves to go to such extremes. The boy just nodded and then, still not convinced, you headed towards your room so you could sleep.

That night Remus dreamed of you and you dreamed of him, with the sound of the rain lulling you, only a few meters away between you, and a beautiful bouquet resting on your nightstand.

You didn't know if that was happiness, but at least that's what it felt like.

[parisiterileymoon]

Angel dust x male reader

Set in the 40s, Im a sucker for a good forbidden romance. (We are all freinds of Dorothy here;])

C/W:mafia, period accurate homophobia, suggestive material(implied fornication), murder, someone gets dragged by the hair, major character death, guns, google translate Italian.

~~

Anthony. His name rolled of the tongue. Anthony. An~tho~ny. When you looked at him, your stomach twisted in knots. You both got out of having to serve in the war due to belonging to the mafia. If anyone found out about your little affaire, you would surely be killed. You looked down to see your beloved Tony curled in the fetal position away from you in bed. "What, was I that bad?" you asked him, only half joking. "Nah toots, I'm just tired. It's...damn what time is it?" "uhhh- how do you not have a clock somewhere in here?" you rolled out of bed with a thunk, pulling on a pair of boxers and looked for your watch. "HA! Found it. Itssss 1:00 AM? Good god!" you laugh, placing your watch back on the floor with the rest of your clothes. All of a sudden you hear footsteps. Not like light and quick like Molly's but heavy and slow like... Henry. Anthony's father. You see, Molly was the only person who knew about you and Anthony. You frantically look around, hopping into the closet. His father bursts into the room. "Anthony, who is in here." you watch your lover panic. "Nobody, pa! I swear! It's just me!" "Questa è una fottuta stronzata Anthony e lo sai, don't lie to me boy!" he begins to look around and his eyes land on the closet. It's as if he can stare straight through your soul. Your palms begin to sweat and tears well in your eyes. Henry pretty much tares the door of the closet off. He pushes you to the ground. "YOU! YOU TURNED MY SON INTO A QUEER" you look at Anthony, sweet Anthony. For a split second you look in his eyes and feel safe. But than Henry kicked you in the stomach and grabs your hair. "PA STOP HE DIDN'T DO NOTHIN'" Anthony cries and drops to the floor, cradling your face. Henry kicks him away from you and begins dragging you outside. "NO PLEASE- PLEASE LET ME GO I'M SORRY" Anthony tries to run after you but his father pulls a gun out of his back pocket "you step one foot closer to me and I shoot you and the fag." "no..." tony falls to his knees. "No pa please..." "anthony I'm gonna be ok" you say, crying. Henry Yanks your hair. "WHO SAID YOU COULD SPEAK QUEER" he pulls you outside and throws you into the mud. He points his gun at you. "No son of mine... No son if mine will be a damn queer. I'm doing the world a favor by making sure you turn no more good men. Any last words?" you look over Henry's shoulder at your lover, screaming and protesting for his father to stop, and you smile at him. "Anthony," you reach out for him "find me on the other side". The last thing you see is your beloved Tony sobbing as he falls for his knees, crying your name. Your life flashes before your eyes as you feel a sharp and unbearable pain in your head. Than, almost like magic, you feel an odd sence of peace. You feel warm and comforted. You see a light. It was almost blinding. Somehow you knew... This... This is heaven.

Would he find you? No. No he wouldn't.

~~

A/N: if you have any gripes, please comment! Constructive criticism is highly appreciated<3

[white-00-7]

The fallen

Lucifer x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

No ones pov:

After y/n explained why she had come down to hell and the super comforting moment she step back then smile as she was then looking around her for her dress "I had a phone in my dress.....and some fae dust. Did you see a little bag made of moon stones and red?"

"Charlie: yeah....we had to change you so that we patch the wound. But why do you need it for?" She ask looking up at the angel as she was taller than her. Maybe 6 ir 7 feet tall.

"I wanted to show you guys earth. Like. Luci he can go to earth if he is summoned and that is pretty rare as all the books with the real summoning circle are at me. And I wanted to see how beautiful free will is for himans. You thought that all people are sinners but is not true my dear" she looks at Lucifer kneeling and touch his cheek "humans are beautiful and they express their emotions with music, art, dance even cooking and clothes. So how does a trip to earth sounds? I may be scolded later but I don't give a fuck" she looks at Lucifer with big puppy eyes just for him to say yes.

Lucifer looks at her and try not to give in but then Charlie make the same face and she sigh and nods his head "We can go to the trip on earth....IF. You take us to some places that are good. Like food and souvenirs ok?"

"I promise. This is gonna be sooooo good. Charlie. You and Vaggie call all the people in this hotel in the lobby. I'll meet you there in 30 ok?"

Charlie nods and takes Vaggie by her hand and witha huge smile and squealing she jumps out of the room. Lucifer laughed softly at that then looks a bit scared at the angel. "What if they recognize us? That we are demons or something? What if Char-Char gets in trouble?"

She place her hamds on Lucifer shoulders and squeeze then a little "Breath in hold for 3 seconds then breathe out Luci. All its gonna be ok. I will make all of us with human appearance on how we looked in our past life and more human without claws and sharp teeth and horns or tail. Its gonna be good. Now go and put on some blue jeans and a white shirt. I am gonna make magic."

She smirks and kiss his cheek then get up and push him out the door then close it. She changed her clothes in a pair of blue short jeans, a white top with long sleeves let her hair loose on her E/C hair loose on her back and puts some shoes on as she then walks to the lobby humming.

In the lobby everyone was excited. To go back to earth? It was a wish come true or to escape a bit from hell. She snap her fingers and everyone was dressed in long or short clothes depending on their preferences and with matching accessories as she opens a portal then wait for Lucifer to come down. Charlie and Vaggie had matching clothes. A t-shirt with 'I'm hers/ she's mine' with arrows to one another and black with red and grey skirts with red shoes. Angel dust had a pink top with a black shorts and high heels boots. Hush had a orange shirt that goes well with his black pants. Alastor had a black modern suit with black shoes.

"Ok so. When we cross over that portal Husk I'll give you some shoes, and for everyone some money to buy what you want except sex toys, booze and drugs. You will have your old look before you died and for the princess, her girlfriend and the king will go with their appearance but without anything demonic. No one will have their powers at more than 10%. Any questions?"

"Angel Dust: You took all my fun by saying no to sex toys and drugs. I wanted new things toots. Ya' lame"

"Alastor: Tell me my dear. Why am dressed like this? It's uncomfortable and the most eyed person." He stare at her with malice as his right eyes twitch

"That is because you came from 1930 right? Right now boys can be with boys and girls with girls open on the street, no more suits only for boys. No long dresses or corsets for girls. You will see"

Lucifer came down with a white shirt and ling blue jeans as she told him to. She smiled at her shyly then look amazed at what she did to all of them "ummmm...is this legal?"

"It is in my world and on free humans will. Let's go!"

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Love Me the way You love Her | Jack Hughes x Reader

warning: language, door slamming, breakup, emotional distress. Cheating?

Summary: Jack and y/n go through an argument. Jack has a past with getting with y/ns bsf. Eva- always there for y/n basckstabs.

A:N- I’m scared that this wont make sense.. anyway here!! First Jack blurb! And it’s an emotional angst!!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

I’m driving back to my apartment. It’s about 11:27 and it’s pitch black. Stars are shining in the night sky. The moon is out, glistening, telling me to finish my work.

Jack is out clubbing, well as I thought. I think he’s out partying with some other skank, and the other devils won’t tell me about it. I’m done. I know it’s just a stereotype thing about hockey guys paying with women, but I’m serious.

I packed a few bags from jacks house that he shared with Luke. I took all of my clothes, my phone charger, my computer, camera, iPad, and all of the charging cords for them and followed by a few blankets and hair straighteners and other hot tools. I packed all of my 103 pairs of shoes. I made sure nothing I cared about was left at the stupid bulging I called home.

I took my pictures I had of me and Jack off the walls and threw them in the ground. I left the place with glass in the wood planks on the ground and the pictures of me and the Hughes family sitting there, waiting to be noticed.

Luke is out with Jack, and I know Jack is out with some girl named Eva. I’m so tired of being parinoid, so I checked his location.

Jack told me he was out at the pizza place with the boys. Boys as in John, Dawson, Luke, Jesper, Nate, and Jonas. I know for sure that John, Luke and Nate are true.

I texted Jonas asking if Jack was with him, he responded with a plain answer, “no. Sorry.” I know Jonas knows what Jack is up to, so I texted him again,

~

Where is he then.

I’m not sure, you’d have to ask him.

That’s a lie, I know you guys talk at practice, just tell me. I want to ask him to get me some food when he comes home, but he won’t answer my texts and calls.

Okay, I’ll let him know.

~

And that’s it. So I texted John. I know John can’t lie to me, so I asked him thorough questions.

~

Where are you?

At the club, Jack and I are heading out to the bar soon.

Is Luke with you guys?

Yes, and so is Bratter, and Bash.

Okay, thx.

Np, but you want me to deliver a message to Jack?

No.

~

Great, so not only did Jack lie to me, but so did Luke. I pull into my aprtament complex’s parking garage. I park in my signature parking spot and I lock my doors as I hop out.

I don’t have the energy to carry all four bags back into my room so o carry only two. I bring in my important stuff, my clothes and my electronics.

I set my things down so I can unlock my door on the 7th floor. I know it’s going to be empty, cold, dark, and un crowded. Unfortunately, I moved all of my stuff into Jacks place, stupid idea.

Before Eva cut into my relationship with Jack, Jack and I lasted about 4 years. I’m pretty sure I’ll cry in the morning. So I unpack everything now.

12:34

~

Text from Buba💗:

where are u?!

Answer my text rn.

I’m driving over.

Are you at your apartment?

Just text me baby!

Are you dead?

Cmon please?

What did I do!

You smashed our pictures, it’s ok. I’ll clean it up later.

~

I left him on read, I’m sure as hell not dealing with him. I finish unpacking, and I jump in the shower. Nice warm water, un opened shampoo and conditioner, unused body wash, a brand new loofa. A new tooth brush and toothpaste. Flossing my teeth, a new hairbrush. My makeup, that I forgot to mention… yeah I brought it too but it’s in my car, I thought that I would be too busy crying to do my makeup.

After my night routine, I realized I haven’t eaten, so I cooked up a grilled cheese, it was delicious. I revrushed my teeth and re flossed and I head to bed.

-4:15-

I wake up to pounding on my door.

“Y/N OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” Jack screams out.

He’ll wake up the neighbors.

I get up from bed, i do t use the lights, i have to make him think im still sleeping, but I crawl on my knees to the door. I look at the crack between the door and the floor, I can see two feet and I know it’s Jack.

“please, baby, I know you’re there. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did, but I love you.”

“That’s bullshit.” I respond, no time to think. I get up from the ground and I ublock the door. Then, within a second I lock it agin. I don’t want to face him right now. I’m in my safe place, my home.

“No it’s not.” Jack says I can hear his guilt in his voice. He knows what he did.

“Eva.” I say as my voice trails off, I can’t help it. I hit my back against the door and I slide down to my butt. My knees up against my chest as I warp my legs in my arms. I sit there against my door, and my used to be love of my life on the other side. I feel my eyes burning, my throat starts to close. I look up at the ceiling light and back down to my red toenails. I start to cry, actually not crying, but bawling.

I cant breathe, it hurts to know my lungs taht I used to catch my breath after going on runs with Jack are being ised.

I can’t stop crying, because I know I didn’t have to cry when I was with Jack.

“I think we should break up.” I maanage to get out from my croaky voice.

I feel Jack put his fist down from the door and he slides down to the same position I’m sitting in. His head agisnt mine, but on the other side.

I hide my head in my knees as I cry, and cry.

“I love you. I really do.” Jack says as he cry’s as well. I can hear him sniffle.

“no, this is the last time i want to hear your voice.” I say, and I get up and slam my bathroom door, letting him know I’m not at the front door of my apartment.

“Please, y/n, stay.”

“This is the last time I’m asking you this, this is the last time. Jack you broke my heart before and I’m not letting it happen again.” I cried out. My tears all over my green tank top, and my pink silky pajama shorts.

“Please.” Jack bellows out, I need him to know if he loves me he’ll let me leave.

Last time he hurt me, I found out he was at a bar dancing with a girl name Sarah, but Sarah was my best friend.

“I’m hurt, Jack just go.”

“It’ll be fixed right? I mean we’ve been through this before! We can fix this!” Jack plead through the door, I can hear the pain in his voice, the hurt in his chest. But i need to rember that he hurt me, and it’s happen before, this was his second as his only chance to fix it.

“no. Jack you got Eva. Go hang out with her.” I cry out. U throw his favorite picture of us together under the door.

It’s a picture of us at the Hoboken Fair. I’m in his arms, his head resting on mine. We both are cheesing, his smile goes end to end, mine is so big you can see my dimples disappear. My eyes in so much love, his eyes set on the camera, I can tell he loves me. I’m dressed in a blue hoodie, that was reeking of jacks cologne, and my shorts were halara skorts.

loved.

It was never love, it was a story that he made up.

He passed under my favorite picture of us.

I was wearing low rise jeans, the ones that go under your belly button, and sit on your hips. I was wearing a small belt, and it had hearts on the pockets that covered my ass. My shirt was a cropped black leather tube top, and I had a really cute shoulder bag on, and Jack was an accessory that clung to my left side. I had my black heels boots on with red bottoms.

Jack was wearing a white striped button down Hawaiian style shirt that was in buttoned and he showed of his abs. Hes wearing my favorite shorts on him, his Nike woven flow shorts in black. He has his favorite white air forces on.

His hair was at his natural curly state, and mine was on a blowout, with curls in a tight half up half down, on top I had braids and I had blue sunglasses that matched Jacks hat.

“You miss our music festies?” Jack asks in a heartbroken tone.

“I’m serious Jack. We need to break up.”

“No. We can fix it.”

“No we can’t.”

“I’ll change, baby I can’t lose you.” Jack harmonized with the deep sound of my fridge.

Jack gets up, his shadow his taller. The door gets heavier, I stand up from my countertop that sits right next to my door.

“I knew you didn’t leave. You do that all the time”

“Jack, I’m not your girl anymore.”

“fine.”

I check the under the door. His shadow is gone, his shoes aren’t at my door. I open the dorr, check if it’s okay for me to sneak out.

Perfect.

I grab my electronics, my clothes, hairbrush, toothbrush, and my shower products. I head to my car. I sit in my drivers seat thinking if a safe place.

Last time this happened, John housed me. This time it’s different.

Jack and I broke up this time. I give my apartment an email:

~

To whom this may concern,

I’m sad to inform you that I am no longer in need of your rentable service. Room 179 on the 7th wing will be open for a new service. I’ll gather my things, what’s left may be used for the next, or be stored, if not needed you may contact me at (your number).

Sincerly,

Y/n Y/l/n

~

I already packed everything, I just need to grab my- actually I have everything. So I drive off and I remembered I left the keys at the front desk before I left. So I truly checked out.

-12:15 PM-

It’s been two days since I left my apartment, I have found myself at my bestfriends house, Liz

Jack called me.

~

“Where have you been?”

“Home.”

“No, your home, is at my house that Luke and I share. It’s your home, you have a bed, a shower, a kitchen, and you have someone who loved you.”

“No, Jack we broke up. It’s not your problem anymore.”

~

Why did I even answer. I’m over him, I need to heal, it’s for me to be happy. I hear a knock on Liz’s door so I open up.

“Y/N! Please!” Jack says as I open Liz’s front door.

“Go away.”

“Please”

“How did you find me?”

“I know you.”

“No, no you don’t.”

I shut the door and I go on my phone to block his number. I delete I’m his contact, and I unfollow him on Instagram, TikTok, and I un add him on Snapchat. I left him loose. He’s gone.

the last time ill ever feel him pain me.

“I just wish you loved me the way you love her!!” I scream at the door knowing Jack is still standing there. Again, I cry.

“I broke it off with Eva!” Jack says, trying to make me consider being with him again.

I rember the photo that Jack loves, the one of us at the fair. Eva took that photo. He wasn’t staring at me, he was staring at the camera- or so I thought. He was actually looking at Eva.

My favorite picture, us at the music festival, who took the oicture? Eva did, the pretty ashy blonde Eva.

“no, it’s always been Eva. I just seriously wish you loved me the way you loved her.”

[apoptoses]

Venice in winter is nothing compared to his homeland, but it’s still damp, oppressive. Outside the sky is a pale shade of grey and the wind must be blowing something fierce, as the little roundels of glass rattle in their iron panes.

But Bianca’s chambers are a hot house. Heat crackles in the fireplace, from the candelabras that dot the walls and tables. Steam curls from the surface of her bath and Amadeo watches the way the wisps of blond hair that surround her face curl with it. She tips her head back against the rim of the tub to look at him. Her cheeks are flushed as rose petals when she smiles, gone pink from the steam.

“You’ve made a terrible mess of my bed,” she says.

And so he has. Having no spare clothing here he’s had no choice but to yank the velvet covers free and wrap himself in them. He’s lying the wrong way, his feet peeking out near the head of the bed. He pushes them into a pillow and grins behind the auburn curtain of his hair.

“And what of it?” he asks.

“Does your master let you get away with such things?”

“No. He beats me terribly. I’m a victim of his punishments almost nightly.”

Bianca rolls her pretty blue eyes. “And you enjoy it, don’t you?”

He does. But she needn’t know that.

This room with all of its delicate things- perfume bottles, silk ribbons draped across her vanity table, Bianca’s little shoes and her combs for her hair and her vases of flowers- it’s not the place for that sort of talk. It’s like being inside a jewelry box. Like being beneath the sea, with the way the steam has collected on the windows and left them shimmering and wet.

Bianca toys with the golden end of her braid, searching it for split hairs. The pearl strands woven into it click softly as she twists and turns her hair.

Amadeo lives in a beautiful palazzo of unruly boys. He sleeps in his master’s strong, imposing bed. He’s been to brothels of all sorts, enjoyed their lurid sort of appeal but this place, this woman’s chamber- it holds such fascination. He watches her in awe as she lifts her feet from beneath the water, rests them on the opposite end of the tub, and he feels as though he’s under a spell.

“You look like a mermaid,” he mumbles.

Water runs down her legs. They’re pale, slender, and Amadeo wonders if he grasped her by the ankle if his fingers would touch where they encircle it. Pressed together as they are, water and soap bubbles clinging to her skin, they look like the appendage of a sea creature. If he blurs his vision the fine golden hair on her legs becomes scales.

“Oh?” Bianca flicks a bit of water at him. It lands on the tip of his nose. “And were I a mermaid what would you be? Some fisherman come to capture me? A prince lost at sea, desperate for saving like Odysseus? Come, wash my back and tell me.”

Amadeo rises from the bed. He leaves the safety of the blankets behind and drags her carved wooden stool over to the side of the tub.

Funny how they’re both naked and yet he feels all the more vulnerable for it. Bianca is otherworldly with her hair swept aside, her head tilted to expose the line of her throat, her shoulder. He takes the wet cloth, rubs the perfumed water into her skin, and wonders what a crude being he must be in comparison.

“Perhaps I would capture you and travel about with you, keeping you on display. I could charge a gold coin just to look upon your beauty,” he says. “You’d make me a rich man.”

He drags the cloth over the delicate ball of her shoulder. It’s white as a porcelain doll, soft in a way none of the other boy’s flesh is. Amadeo massages at her skin and takes in the musicality of her little groan.

“Mm, and would you keep me in a cage? Would you be a very strict master, one who never lets his little captive out?” she teases.

Amadeo nods. “A golden one, so that I might hand feed you through the bars. I could charge another coin for that, I think. Plenty of men would pay for the pleasure of passing you a little bite of fish.”

He washes her scapula when she leans forward, the ball joint at the base of her neck. Her breasts bob in the water, slick with soap, flushed pink with the heat,  and Amadeo can’t resist running the cloth over her clavicle. Down and down until his finger slides into the valley between them where her sternum rests. Her laugh vibrates beneath the bone as she slaps at his wrist.

It’s a half-hearted protest. Splashing just for the sake of getting him wet, and as Amadeo dodges her hand he pretends to accidentally grope her. The entirety of her breast nestles perfectly into his hand.

“You’re such a predictable boy. Would you have them pay to do this as well?” Bianca asks. Her voice rises into a gasp when he catches her nipple between his finger and thumb. “How many gold coins to molest your captive mermaid?”

She’s soft. Not like his master, who’s like caressing one of the marble statues that lines their courtyard. Bianca has warm breasts to squeeze, a roll of flesh that appears above her stomach when she sits hunched and naked like this. Amadeo rubs his palm over the swell of her stomach, his fingertips brushing the gold curls that cover her mound, and curls his other arm around her shoulders to clasp her wet back to his chest.

“None,” he says. “I wouldn’t charge them any, because this I would keep all for my own.”

The wind rattles the shutters of the palazzo. Rain lashes at the windows. It’s freezing outside but in here Amadeo is sweating. It trickles down his back as he grazes her thighs with his fingers. He’s damp under the arms, too warm from the fireplace, from his desire. Just like with his master, he feels monstrous from it. Lesser for the needy thing between his legs. An animal driven by lust.

Bianca struggles in his grasp. Not to get free, to rise up toward his wandering hand. But the position is awkward. Her ankles, perched as they are on the edge of the tub, they don’t give her enough leverage to lift her hips and so she’s trapped there; wiggling like a fish. Amadeo teases at the crease where her thighs meet. He traces it from knee to pubis and back again and listens to the quickening of her breath.

The cleft of her must be slick. She’s probably flushed pink down there as well but he can’t see it through the water, the way her thighs are clenched together.  But that’s alright. He’s submitted to his master, to the workers of the brothels. Amadeo’s not had anyone squirm for him and he’s finding he likes this game. Her shiver when he rakes his nails through her curls sets his blood alight.

He works his finger into the tight crevice where her thighs meet. He seeks out the sensitive nub between her legs and he knows he’s found it by the way Bianca tips her head back and inhales a sharp breath.

Amadeo tries to picture her as a sea creature. What folds she might have here, in this secret part of her. Whether she’d be warm inside or cold, slimy like the belly of a fish. He forces his finger further down through the squeeze of her thighs and teases at her entrance.

It��s torment, being outside of this bath, unable to plunge into her. In the excitement of the previous night he’d finished all too quickly, and it’s embarrassing, really. He’s dying inside to repeat his performance, to do better this time. But he owes her. Pleasure is the only way he can pay her.

Bianca’s hands grip his forearm like a vice. They’re slender, like a doll’s, and he likes to feel small but she’s the first to make him feel powerful. He rubs tiny circles at her and her nails dig into his skin. Glides his finger up and down and watches through the distortion of the water the needy thrust of her hips.

“Amadeo-“ she gasps.

Her knees fall apart. He clucks his tongue at her, stills his hand.

“You’re a mermaid, remember? Your legs should stay together, yes, like that.”

She lets out a whine, clenches her legs back into place. Amadeo touches her again, slow, teasing, and bites back a hiss when she claws at his wrist.

This is new, having someone fall apart in his arms. Taking her apart little by little with his fingertip alone is a rush that goes straight to his head. Like being drunk only better, because instead of a headache there’s a reward at the end. Falling upon her in her great golden bed. Or perhaps just the satisfaction of seeing her shake with pleasure. That alone might be enough.

The pearls in Bianca’s braid click when she tosses her head. Amadeo strokes her, up and down, again and again. Runs his finger along her folds and watches her toes curl at the edge of the bath. He presses at her entrance. Makes as if he’ll let his fingertip in and her toes point with anticipation. Then go lax again when he takes his fingertip away and seeks out the sensitive nub of her again.

“You’re a horrible tease,” she complains.

Amadeo laughs. “I’m your captor, aren’t I? It’s my right to tease. I trapped you for my own pleasure, after all.”

He traces a little circle over her clit. Bianca presses his cheek into the crook of his elbow, as though she means to hide her face.

“Most men would take their pleasure in other ways.”

There’s no hiding herself, though. Amadeo tilts his head, ignores the pain that comes with straining into such an awkward position, and takes in the way she’s panting. The rush of color to her cheeks, how she bites her lip when he touches just the right way. He keeps on that spot, repeats the motion, and he can tell by the way she squeezes her thighs that she’s squeezing tight on the inside too.

“I’m unlike most men,” he says, and kisses at her throat.

Her skin tastes like the perfumed water. Like salt because she too has begun to sweat. He rubs over and over, feels the rush of her pulse, and wonders if this is what his master feels with him. Whether making him squirm, helpless in his arms, makes him feel indomitable as well, and for a second he wishes he could rend her throat with his teeth. Amadeo wants to feel the stitch of her heart the way his master feels his whenever he bites into his flesh and takes his blood.

Slow circles. Over and over he spirals his fingertip. No change in the motion, no teasing now. There’s only one end to this and he means to achieve it as he drops kisses along her neck. Amadeo picks up his speed bit by bit until she gasps. There, there- the words are muttered out over the slosh of the bath, and he listens. Takes her advice even though his forearm is screaming at him, and-

Bianca kicks at the edge of the tub. Her cry sounds surprised, like she didn’t expect to be wracked with this much sensation, and she shakes with it. Her thighs squeeze so tight around Amadeo’s finger he couldn’t slip it inside her even if he wanted to.

And that’s fine. Good, in fact. This pleasure is for her sake and even if his cock is throbbing its need between his legs it can wait. Must wait, he decides. His master would scold him for taking her like a street ruffian not once but twice.

She’s lovely when she goes slack. Bianca’s hair is mussed from rubbing her face against his arm, a gold curl come free near her temple. Amadeo goes to tuck it back for her but she shakes her head.

“My hair will have to be redone entirely.” She plunges her wet fingers into his auburn hair and drags him down for a kiss. Her body is uncomfortably hot, sticky against his. “You’re right, you know.”

“About what?”

She nips at his lip, hard enough to leave it smarting. While Amadeo is busy rubbing at his mouth she rises from the tub like Venus from her shell. Arm covering her breasts, she reaches with the other hand and gestures for him to hand her a dry sheet.

“You’re like your master,” she says.

Amadeo cocks his head. He hands her the sheet without getting up from the stool, suddenly embarrassed of the thing throbbing between his own legs. He aches to throw her to the floor and take her.

“How so?” he asks.

Bianca enshrouds herself in white fabric. One neat movement, so well practiced that she hardly drips water onto the floor, and she’s perched on the edge of the bath rubbing herself dry. Arms first, then legs. She brings her ankle up to rest upon her knee and Amadeo can’t help but stare at the bone white jut of it. She’s pale as his master there. Her ankles never see the sunlight and so he can see the blue veins through her skin, and he wonders how they’d taste.

“Both of you are entirely unlike other men,” Bianca murmurs. Her foot with its pale sole, white as the belly of a fish, lands suddenly in Amadeo’s lap. She grinds her heel down and draws a gasp from him. “Now come to bed, Amadeo. I believe it’s time your captive takes her revenge. You’ll allow me some fun, won’t you? Before I release you back into the waters to swim home to your master?”

The pearls in her braid are loose. He ruts up against her foot and hears them rattle when she tosses her head back and smirks.

Amadeo is hooked. How easily he swings between such extremes. Misery and ecstasy. Dominance and submission. Shame and desire. He’s a being made of contradictions, and as he follows her to her golden bed he thinks he’ll do anything she wants so long as it keeps him here a moment longer. Safe from reality in her jewelry box room.

Safe from his sadness so long as he remains trapped in the net of want.

[kittysarchive]

Let's take it slow, Jay

I'm not a male, I do not know how it feels for you so please correct me.

warnings- for male reader (everyone welcome), smut, hand job, Dom Jay, anal smut, mxm, making out, small cock reader, big cock Jay, praise kink, cuming in ass,

Siting on his large lap, Jay's hands squeezed the plushness of your ass as he deepened the kiss.

Lips chasing each other as your tongues briefly met, you pull apart from the kiss. Breathing heavily, a string of saliva connected your lips.

"So cute" Jay hums, hand lightly griping your chin. Cheekily smiling, with Jays other hand, he easily slides off his shirt. Drooling over his form, Jay helps you shred your own shirt off.

"Need you so bad" You whine out, rolling your hips desperately onto Jay's bulge. Returning the favour, he bucks his hips up, helping you gain the right friction. Only to place his hips back down.

"I want you too baby" Jay trails kisses down your neck. Lightly sucking your skin, he leaves his love bites as you helplessly rub against his clothed member. Unzipping his fly, he pulls his boxers down, enough for his cock to spring out.

Hovering over his lap, you raise your hips enough to fully discard your pants and boxers. Leaving you fully naked. Heat rising to your cheeks, you realise Jay is only missing his shirt.

"So pretty" Jay pushes your embarrassment away. Hands gliding over your chest, squeezing your nipples before trailing down again. His hands make home on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your small, pink tipped and leaky cock.

Squeezing your thighs as you sit back down onto his, Jay rubs his thumb along your thighs. Causing jolts of electricity to run through your body. Just from the touch, from the neediness of your body, your cock fully erects.

"T-touch me" You cry out, becoming frustrated from Jay's slight teasing. Laughing at your neediness, he listnes.

"Where?" Jay teases once more. Forcing your hands to guide his to your cock. Once placing them on your cock, his hand engulfs your shaft. Giving it a squeeze, you whine out.

Cock hidden in Jay's large palm; he starts to pump your length. Fisting your cock up and down, he rubs his thumb over your slit.

"Fuck" You bite your lip hard, hips rutting into his hand. Begging for more. Pumping your length fanster, Jay removes his hand.

"W-what?" You cry out in disbelief. Cock stinging from the sudden loss of touch.

"I'm going to fuck you... You practically begging for it" Heat rising once again to your cheeks, you look down. Only to be met with the view of Jays member. Body fluttering with both nervousness and excitement as you admire his cock. Red, hard, long, mushroom tipped, balls full.... He was bigger than yours, by a lot.

Jays hand trailed around your ass, sliding a finger into your ass. Your body jolts, not expecting the intrusion from there. Instantly trying to mov away, your body doesn't initiate, as you enjoy the feeling.

Whining as his finger deepens, curling in your ass. You wouldn't expect to like it. Adding another finger, he slowly spreads you ass open. Prepping you for his size.

"I-I'm ready" You beg, wanting his cock more than his fingers. You wrap your fingers around Jays own cock. Pumping it as Jay's fingers move out of your ass.

"Doing so good" He pulls his head back in pleasure as you fist his cock faster. Stopping like he did for you, Jay doesn't react. As his hand still lays on your ass, he pulls your body closer to his. Chest to chest, you slide down onto his length.

"Oh..." You moan out. Having barely experienced anything like this...having barely had sex, this feeling almost felt knew to your. Resting your head in the crook of Jay's neck, you raise your hips, sliding down on his cock.

"Just like that" He praises you, keeping a firm hand on your. Giving it a light smakc, you moan at the contact.

"Such a dirty boy" You ass squeezed against his length...you didn't mind being called that. You enjoyed it as much as you enjoyed being praised.

Feeling the need to be fucked, feeling the need to feel his cock, you move your hips faster. Slamming down on his cock. Placing a hand on his chest for leverage, you bring your other hand down to your cock. Giving it the attention it needs as Jay begins to buck his hips up into your ass, fucking you harder. Fisting your shaft quickly, your hips meet up with Jay's thrusts.

"J-jay" You cry out, voice slightly muttered as your head was still placed in the crook of your neck. Jay brings his free hand to the back of your neck, playing with your hair as his hips bruise yours.

"Your doing so good for me.... keep holding pretty boy" Hearing the pet name, your cry out. A mix of a moan and cry, your force your hips down, quicker and faster.

As your hands continue to work on your cock, you feel the need to pee. Balls tightening and a wave of needing to release, you couldn't wait any longer.

"Need to cum" You announce, voice hoarse as your body fights back the release. Slapping your ass hard, Jay's own member was close.... really close.

"Go on" He groans, feeling your ass tighten around his length as you cum onto his chest. Decorating his chest in your milky seed, Jay decorated your ass his hot and thick cum.

His hips soon slow down, causing the squelching of your cum covered ass to die down.

"You did so good....so good" His fingers continue to play in your hair as your body calms down from he wave of pleasure. Feeling his cum drip out of you...his fingers in your hair...cock becoming softer....your body was still hot, hot with pleasure.

[giacos12]

Damn Those Marstons

Jack Marston x Fem!Reader.

Hey, RDR fans! I got into RDR2 a few months back and I literally binge watched play throughs of RDR1. This angsty idea for Jack popped up(because he can never be happy😔) and I just had to write it!

Synopsis: You’ve been with Jack for a few months now. When he asks you to meet his family, you would’ve never thought you would be meeting one of the two outlaws who killed your father.

Warnings: Takes place during RDR1(1914)(Jack is nineteen), alternate universe where the Marston family lives a bit longer lol, John uses his fake name ‘Jim Milton’, a little bit of arguing, just really sad angst.

“Can I tell you both somethin’?” Jack piped up at the dinner table, placing his spoon down into his bowl. Abigail and John immediately looked up at him, confusion written on both of their faces. It was pretty unusual for Jack to get all serious at random. Abigail nodded, “Of course. You can tell us anything, Jack.” She reached over, giving a gentle reassuring pat on his shoulder.

John remained quiet, observing his son. If anything, he was quite on edge, not wanting any bad news. Jack took a deep breath before a smile appeared on his face, “I’ve been seeing this lady. God— Ma, you’ll love her! She’s the sweetest, most loving lady you’ll meet.” Jack’s eyes sparkled as he went on a rant about his girlfriend. Abigail and John were shocked in the moment, but then proceeded to smile. They would be lying to themselves if they said they weren’t happy that Jack had finally found someone.

John chuckled as he looked at Abigail, “Looks like our boy is head over heels! When can we meet her, son?” Jack paused, thinking for a moment.

“How about tomorrow?” Jack answered, looking over at his mother, “If that’s okay with you, ma.”

Abigail laughed, nodding her head, “Of course it’s okay with me! I’ll cook a nice dinner for the four of us! I can’t wait to meet her.”

Jack was ecstatic! He was in his bed, looking up at the ceiling being unable to fall asleep. He couldn’t wait for you to meet his family. His mind was racing until he eventually tired himself out.

In the morning Jack was already at your front door. You opened it with a bright smile on your face, “Well I wasn’t expecting you today. Why do you have the dumb smile on your face? What are you planning?” You walked up to him, Jack leaning down to plant a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“I ain’t planning nothin’! Just… Will you come have dinner with my parents? Today?” Jack blurted out. It was evident he was pretty excited about this. You were taken aback by this. Dinner? With his parents?

You giggled sheepishly, “Geez, Jack. I wish you told me this sooner. I don’t think I got any nice clothes to give a good first impression…” Jack shook his head, grabbing your hands into his, “No need for fancy clothes no nothing. My parents don’t care about your wealth. They care about who you are.”

His words melted your heart. Jack bent down, pulling you in for a soft tender kiss. You always loved how gentle he was with you. Once he pulled away, you stepped back into your home, “Let me tell my mother i’ll be gone for a while. Mind waiting out here while I get ready?”

“Anything for you, darlin’.”

-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-

After getting ready, Jack helped you onto his horse and rode back to his home. The horse ride wasn’t silent what so ever as Jack couldn’t help but tell you how excited he was. All you could do was smile. It was nice seeing your lover get so excited about something.

Once you both arrive at Beechers Hope, he helped you off of the horse. He held your hand as you both walked up the step of his home. Abigail opened the door with a smile, “Why, hello! You must be the little lady Jack has been talking on and on about!” She walked up to you, giving you a friendly hug.

“Cmon now Ma— Don’t embarrass me like that…” Jack muttered, scratching his head and turning away out of embarrassment. Abigail rolled her eyes, “There’s nothing embarrassing about loving a lady! Now come on in! Dinner is almost ready!” She led you both inside the house, the scent of a good meal in the air.

“Where’s Pa?” Jack questioned, pulling a chair out for you to sit in. Abigail sighed and shrugged, “Joh— I mean, Jim went out a while ago. He said he’ll be back. He most definitely doesn’t want to miss out on this.” She reassured Jack.

Abigail sat down at the table with the both of you. She seemed like a lovely young woman. Sweet yet had a fierce aura to her. She questioned you about your home life, how you met Jack, all the basic questions a parent would ask their child’s lover.

You were honest with her. You told her how it was just you and your mother since your father was killed by some bad people when you were a kid. You spoke about how you only had some insight of two of the men who took your father’s life, hoping you wouldn’t run into them again. You spoke about how you met Jack while shopping for books, how the love for literature brought you both together.

Talking with Abigail felt so natural, both of you didn’t seem to notice someone enter the home. Jack smiled, “Took you long enough, sir.” You turned your head and immediately froze. All you could do was stare at the man with scars on his face.

“Took you long enough, Jim!” Abigail got up, gently slapping her husband’s arm. The man looked at you and smiled, “You must be the lovely lady Jack can’t shut up about! Nice to meet ya! I’m Jim. Jim Milton! You’ve already met Abigail…” You couldn’t hear his words anymore. Everything your boyfriend has told you was a lie.

There was no one named Jim Milton in this home. There wasn’t a Milton at all. The man in front of you was none other than John Marston. Jack wasn’t a Milton either. He was a Marston. They all were.

Your vision became blurry, your ears were ringing so loud. You couldn’t think straight. What could you do? What can you do?

You needed to leave.

“Hun? You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost…” You snapped back into reality as Jack held your hands gently, looking at you with concern. You gently pushed him away, shaking your head.

“I need to leave. Excuse me.” You pushed Jack out of the way, but he immediately grabbed your wrist. “Hey hey, what’s wrong? Did we do something? Did I do something?” Jack questioned, obviously really confused and concerned.

That’s when you just snapped. You couldn’t take the pain anymore.

“As a matter of fact you did do something. Marston.” You spat at him, Jack instantly taken aback by your outburst. Abigail gasped, her hands cupping over her mouth. John froze, if anything he was terrified at the fact that you knew who they were.

“Is this what people like you do, Marston!? You kill people who had families to go back to while you’re here living a great life with your family!?” You yelled at John. Jack glanced at his father, confused and utterly shocked.

Tears fell from your face as you shook your head, “You took my father from me. I was just a kid… How come you can live your best life, seeing your child grow up… But my father can’t?” You looked at all three of them before looking at Jack,

“I can’t be with the son of an outlaw. Especially to the outlaw that took my father’s life,” You looked back at John and Abigail, “If you’re worried about me telling others about where you live, don’t. I get nothing out of revenge. Just know that your actions will catch up to you. You can never leave your old life to live a new. It happened to my father, it will happen to you.”

You walked towards the front door, “I hope you all enjoy your lives. Goodbye.” With that, you left the home. You heard the front door swing up, footsteps rushing towards you. Turning around, it was Jack.

“Darlin’! Please, don’t leave. Look, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I know my Pa has done some horrible things— But I swear he’s a changed man!” Jack pulled you into an embrace, “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in so long. I— I love you…”

Jack’s words were sincere. They really were. But you couldn’t shake the disgusting feeling off of you. You gently pushed him off from you,

“Jack. I love you— Well… I loved you too. But I know my father would be rolling in his grave knowing I was dating the son of the man who killed him.”

Jack’s heart sunk. He couldn’t do anything but watch you walk away. What can he even say? It wasn’t long until John came out to check up on his son.

John reached down to place a hand on Jack’s shoulder, immediately getting rejected by him. Jack glared at his father, “Damnit old man, You’ve made my life a living hell. I can forgive you for so many other things you’ve done. But this? I don’t know if I can.”

Jack bumped his father’s shoulder as he walked back into the house. Abigail tried to comfort him, but he immediately shut that down. John and Abigail had a lot to talk about.

It took you a long while to get back home. Your mother greeted you with a loving smile, but all you could do was cry in her arms. She didn’t question nor judge you, she did what a mother does best and held you. Telling you it was going to be okay.

Damn those Marstons.

Damn that sweet loving boy you fell in love with.

And damn your heart for still loving him.

[luvevee]

Idk maybe it's fine to accept Sada and Turo are just really shitty parents who neglected and abandoned Arven instead of pulling the shortest straws in an attempt to make them seem like they were just sad workaholics who got too caught up in their work like a bad hallmark movie

[doctorwhoisadhd]

i think i am actually going to try to go through with the murray gold lead sheets thing

[oatbugs]

non-zero amount of swans and a non-zero amount of lakes.